Consciousness Journal: Remote Viewing the Moon and the Junkyard
The very first thing I noticed when arriving on the moon was the number of space craft in the underground hanger — at least a hundred. The next immediate thought was how much this place looked like a used car lot that one might have seen in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The hanger was a fascinating collection of busted up space hoopties and none of them were exactly the same. However, they were similar in the fact they were covered with the finest of powders — a greyish talcum of unknown age or origin. Even though each ship had a unique origin story, they were all at the end of their service life based on their scorch marks, mottled markings, and patched hulls. Some were hooked up to machines as though they were patients connected to life support. Although there was no map stating ‘You Are Here’, I knew I was in an underground base on the moon.
I was surprised at being on the moon, but not in how I got there. I have been doing remote viewing, or a version thereof, since 1980.
Decades ago, I had spontaneously popped out of my body during an aggressive spanking when I was around ten. I discovered the astral projection book Far Journeys when I was 14 and sharpened my skills. By the time I was in my late 20’s, I had become somewhat proficient. There were still occasions I would get ready for departure, set my intention, and ask for protection only to wake up a few hours later and discover I had a trail of drool on my cheek and pillow. Other times, I would not prep for departure and — pop — I’d be out of my physical body and in some random location. To give you some perspective, I was taking 16 to 18 credit hours in college, slinging subs for my fellow students on evenings and weekends, singing solos in local churches, and trying to hook up with a store regular who was also a dancer at a strip club on the other side of the shopping center. Her proclivity for foot longs kept me interested. All of this to say I did not have a clear goal in my life other than to find interesting experiences and enjoy them.
If my memory still serves, my success rate was probably around forty percent and what I was finding was both damn curious and damn interesting. My aroused Scorpio curiosity would propel me onward. Finding where my friends hid their porn, weed, or anything else they were attempting to hide had a magnetic quality to me. In a peculiar way, my undefined targets seemed to call out to me more than the ones I was tasked to find. Example — I found a lost passport by projecting into it and describing the location.
I have told my friends before that I was infected by the Y-chromosome at birth and it encourages peculiar behaviors. I’m sure you have seen them in those afflicted regardless of your gender: refusing to ask for directions, meandering around town looking for gas just a few cents cheaper, watching TV with eyes closed, and the ever popular eschewing of instructions. Not following instructions usually leads to bad decisions and great stories. This is how I started challenging reality… or at least this one which currently has you reading this story. It began with a simple request; show me something interesting.
For those who are still learning the lingo, consciousness is a ladder with several rungs. I’ll skip the science but as you slow down your brain, the bond between your body and consciousness get more pliable. Nearly all of us have been in that place where you are half awake and half asleep. Realities merge and you can, like Schrödinger’s cat, be here and not here simultaneously. It is also the hypnagogic state where cognitive programming or hypnosis occurs.
This is the state I am in when I am doing remote viewing because I have to range out to a target while still being able to speak into my digital recorder or tell my handler what I am seeing, smelling, hearing and so on. Handlers are good to have around to because your brain is a problem solver — even when it is wrong. A handler can redirect you to keep you on task. When you are inside a physical object, the architecture and energy is indescribably beautiful. They also are a witness to your process so you have another person confirming you aren’t hopping up to drop target coordinates into Google Maps.
One thing I can guarantee you in this process — distraction is inevitable.
What I do most often… the next rung of the ladder, if you will, is known as astral projection. I do not remain conscious of the physical environment around me. I also do not require another party to establish veracity. Frankly, I don’t care if you believe me or not.
This is my form of entertainment and my way of avoiding reality when reality is too much. When on the moon, floating around a spaceship, or watching the Statue of Liberty being built, it is enough to just witness and experience. It is for me at least. And with arthritic changes already beginning in this meat suit, my physical journeys are becoming less frequent. Thanks to 2020, I’ve had time to brush up on my skills.
As I lie down in bed, I begin some deep breathing exercises. The mindset I use to direct Reiki is the same mindset I seek when settling in. Relaxed, but aware. Open to the experience but ready to respond to any concern in both the physical and mental realities. I started a mental practice as a young adult to get to a deeper state of mind. Mentally I descend via a gated elevator, an elongated escalator, and, finally, a sloped stone pathway into a laboratory. I recline into a gratuitously overstuffed leather chair — a catcher’s mitt for my ass one could say. Rather than saying, ‘Let’s go’ with a target and time frame in mind, I knuckle-balled it and said, ‘Show me something interesting.’
Now, I’m standing in a cavernous space hanger tucked under the surface of the moon.
Time becomes irrelevant in this state. You go from a state of not knowing to knowing. You think of a place and you are there instantaneously. And the intake of information is akin to a microprocessor because the data rate changes and accommodates to your cognitive dissonance… or familiarity.
I know that is a bit abstract so let me take another run at this. It seems most people remember the show Quantum Leap and that is a damn good metaphor. If that doesn’t work for you, take a book you are reading, flip about a third of the way forward and start reading. First few times, it is disorienting. But, there are people, landmarks, or situations that are familiar to you. You grab onto that and then extrapolate the rest. Yes, there is a mental dexterity required but repetition is your friend. I had set my physical intention, my mental intention, and tah-dah, I’m on the moon. Or, more specifically, under the moon.
Imagine a hanger that is big enough to turn a 747 around. There was a solid, stone floor that was smooth but not shiny. The walls and ceiling were of similar material — a glazed rock that showed the occasional pock mark or striations of some process. Imagine a tile made from igneous rock that had not been glazed or fired. The floors, walls, and ceiling had a technology for recessed or ambient lighting I did not understand. I saw no appliances or light sources but there was ample light to move about the hanger. That being said, the place seemed to be in a night mode. The lighting was subdued.
I looked at each ship as I passed it. One looked like an Eagle from Space 1999. Several had the traditional saucer shape but each one had different configurations, colors, or appendages. One was nearly identical to the shuttle, NCC-1701/7, Galileo from the first Star Trek series. I couldn’t decide if Hollywood was a conduit for exposing the population to extraterrestrial ships by desensitizing us via movies. Later, I thought that there were extraterrestrial engineers who harvest our ideas and build those imagined ships for the same purpose.
I was marveling in the familiarity and the differences of the designs. I even remember reaching out and touching a ship to prove to myself I was really there. There was a curious tactile sensation of pimpling or very small blistering similar to the skin of an orange. I also got an emotion. Sadness. I would discover years later that there is a type of breast cancer that makes the human skin feel like an orange’s skin. I still don’t know if the sadness was from the ship or if it was an echo of the cancer research I would be doing a decade later. I was contemplating the possibility of the ship actually being alive when I rounded the nose of the craft and encountered my very first alien life form. It was a reptilian.
Have you ever been in a wreck? Time slows as though your brain is trying to process so much information at once that it elongates the incident timeline to allow for all the additional data. Another way to say it is I was drinking from a psychic fire hose.
I was startled. He was startled. I was surprised that he could see me in a non-physical state. He was surprised that a human was down here as this was not the human’s area. There was an adolescent quality to him as he struggled with the data rate too: Who is this human? How did he get past security? Why is he not in physical form? I am going to get in so much trouble. Oh No! He can hear me!
I hope to hell he was not a true adolescent because he was easily seven foot, maybe eight foot, tall. His musculature was very well defined. If you took a Hulk doll and put a crocodile head on it, you’d be nearly spot on. He also was wearing a thin suit that was almost painted on. Again, every muscle was easily defined. We both were just standing there — shocked and observant. The stasis was broken when he thought he was going to get in trouble. I had a mental image of a reptilian teenager getting spanked by his dad and I chuckled. Boy, did that piss him off.
I knew he was going to lunge towards me before a single muscle twitched. Of course, I turned and ran like I had hell hounds on my tail. After a couple steps, I remembered I was in my astral body and went immediately to the moon’s surface. I don’t know why I knew he couldn’t follow; I just knew.
I did not stay long on the surface of the moon as what I discovered was disquieting. I understood now that the ships below were in different states of recovery and repair because the surface of the moon is a junk yard. So many questions began to fill my young adult mind. Nothing I was seeing made any sense based on what I had been taught. Yet, here I was.
I don’t know if it was glass or if it was steel but I saw building after building broken and crumbling. It reminded me of the pictures I had seen of Pompeii or Mount St. Helen after the volcanic explosion. Perhaps the structures were artificially created and placed here. Perhaps it was made from the materials on the moon. But it looked like something IKEA would make with straight lines and minimalist influences. Some were crushed. Some were shattered. A couple looked as though there had been explosion. I thought to myself, I want to see an exploded building. I blinked and I found myself hovering over a pyramid.
The pyramid base seemed many times bigger than The Great Pyramid of Giza. The entire top half and one side of it was gone and its stones were scattered across the surface. Most were close by but some pieces were tossed quite far and were the size of cars and houses. The only place I can compare it to on Earth would be Puma Punku. My guess was that a battle had taken place tens of thousands of years ago and thanks to the near vacuum of space, it looks at thought it took place maybe a 100 years ago. I had the feeling I was at a crime scene and a grave yard simultaneously. Again, another wave of sadness came so I left.
In the three decades since my first trip, I have made other trips to surveille the surface and have come away with wonder and bigger questions. There are many other architectural items there that I have also seen here on the surface of the Earth. And while I have come away with more questions than answers, the quality of my questions have grown exponentially. And I like stretching my thinking process even if it makes me frustrated. There may come a day that Earth’s history is upgraded to how the Earth fits into the history of the solar system or why there are pyramids on Earth, Mars and the moon, but given how people have responded to the changes wrought by 2020, I’m sure we won’t get that particular upgrade real soon.
