I am the great-granddaughter of a Presbyterian minister, the granddaughter of a 33rd degree Mason (just learned this past year), and daughter of an agnostic father and “jack-Mormon” (“fallen-away” Mormon) mother.
The former President Dwight David Eisenhower was my grandfather’s second cousin. Ike and Mamie frequently visited my teenage hometown, Paradise Valley, Arizona, but they never communicated with my family, as far as I was told.
What follows is a chronology of my spiritual and religious life. Words in bold will help readers skim.
As a child, I was aware of angels and portals which took me away – very welcome – to other dimensions at night. I could not create the portals myself, but had to wait until they opened, sometimes with many years in between.
Like many children, I spoke to plants and animals, but also participated in healing prayers with them. At age 9, when I first became aware of poverty and injustice, I was consumed with both compassion and the shock that there was so much in the world that had been hidden from me.
Occasionally, I was taken to the Mormon Church and was baptized in it, though I had amnesic events in “children’s church” which made me hateful toward the organization. Later, I was given the choice to go or not, and I chose not to. Until the day of that choice, I was taken to church on Wednesday evenings, where the hallways were dark and we were terrified by stories of demons.
In my teen years, I began a lifelong practice of dream recall and dream interpretation, as well as self-hypnosis.
At age 19, intending to study all the world’s religions, I learned that Jesus had preached for justice and compassion, and against violence, racism, sexism, materialism, and doctrinarism. In that moment, I felt “I know Jesus in my bones” and ended my search.
Married to a “Jesus hippie,” I received a certificate in Bible Studies from Grand Canyon College. My husband, ordained a Southern Baptist minister, was called to pastor for a growing community west of Phoenix near the Palo Verde nuclear power plant under construction, causing conflict for me as I’d had my eyes opened to the environmental dangers of nuclear power through “radical Christian” magazines.
Although I’d decided not to have children, I was convinced to leave that decision in God’s hands, and went off birth control, in two years having two children. (And lost my faith and returned to birth control.)
When we moved so that my husband could attend seminary, I was thrilled to discover “radical Christian” churches working for peace, justice, environmental responsibility, women’s rights, gay rights, and more. Our pastors were a husband-wife couple..
Later, at an ecumenical intentional community called New Jerusalem, I attended my first marches against nuclear power and organized the region’s first peace conference, as well as Third World craft Christmas gift purchases, a children’s clothing exchange, and teacher’s peace workshops in the year that I was there.
Our family experienced numerous miraculous events which saved our lives and others’. One involved a runaway truck on a highway during an ice storm which was given a perfect route to safety by virtue of our stopping the car at a perfect, and otherwise illogical, place on the highway. Another was my responding to a psychic call to find my son when he, age 3, was about to choke on a marble in a hidden place in an unused room in a 4,000 square-foot house – when I was busy with other things – and I neatly pounded the stuck marble from his throat before he even began to panic.
At age 28, I had the misfortune of finding myself ostracized for unpopular ideas at a fundamentalist “home church” which had asked my husband to serve as pastor. After years of discussing divorce, we did it. In the process, he told me “all the members of the congregation” were siding with him to get full custody of our children – because if I believed in divorce, then I wasn’t a “good Christian” and didn’t deserve to bring up our children.
Having been physically and emotionally abused for almost ten years, and isolated with no local friends, I gave up custody of my children and soon declared myself an atheist.
Six months later, I came out of a trance I seemed to have been in for many years, and began the difficult work of regaining custody of my children. It would take almost three year; I had no money, and it is extremely difficult to sue across state lines. However, I had excellent witnesses to my mothering, and I was given full custody. I changed my atheism to agnosticism.
In my early thirties, I received a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Arizona, with a split minor in Religion and Philosophy. As a first-year journalist, I also won a United Press International First Place Award for a radio feature in the Arizona-Utah region for a story on a private religious grade school, in which I contrasted children’s rights to freedom of thought with parents’ rights to guide their children’s ideas.
Miracles continued, some dramatic, including a healing that happened spontaneously in the forest – after I’d begun fighting for the preservation of a sacred mountain of the San Carlos Apaches.
Once, I hugged a tree and felt a powerful course of clear energy fall through my crown and down through my feet into the Earth, after which I felt as though I’d had a radio tuned to static inside me all my life – and suddenly the static was turned off.
I decided then I was a pantheist, but didn’t think much about the radio metaphor, that maybe it hadn’t just been turned off, but switched on to a clearer channel, and I should listen! I continued a very grateful but somewhat clueless seeker.
For some reason, I felt too shy to tell anyone about my spiritual experiences or even pray in any manner that involved words.
When my teenage son was diagnosed with an advanced stage of (a relatively curable) cancer, the advanced stage and my son’s attitude seeming to point to his death, I began to pray for the first time in over a decade. His behavior switched from life-threatening games of “chicken” in front of trains between his chemotherapy sessions to reflective and self-preserving activities, and he was soon pronounced in remission and has been cancer-free for over twenty years
In 1994, at age 42, as soon as my children were on their own, I built a small off-the-grid home in the desert of Cochise County, Arizona, intending to continue my spiritual quest and many days thought I’d be a hermit for the remainder of my life.
A love interest took me away (for important healing work) from 1995-1999, then I returned to my hermitage and was soon experiencing everyday communications with birds, other animals, clouds, stars, and other elements – and eventually accepted I was in an initiation into shamanic practice, which I gratefully accepted. I began to read books and expected a teacher to appear in my life, but recognized none. I kept on alone.
When powerful healings began to flow through me, I was extremely conflicted about the responsibility, even afraid. So I told no one about it, though healing energies continued to move spontaneously through when needed. (I’ve written complete accounts of them in my book.)
I also connected with many past lives, among them ancient people who’d lived on my land and in Cochise’s tribe in the Dragoon Mountains across the valley. I also received communications from deceased friends, two when they died unexpectedly, with signs witnessed by others.
My acceptance about using these skills to help others has been extremely slow, though I eventually took heart in Christ’s saying, “You shall do all these things [healings] and more,” which I took to mean that humans – perhaps all of us – are capable of, and should develop, not only shamans or medicine people.
I believe we’re all called to open our awareness and live in the multi-dimensional world and discover further how to fully use our human intuitive mystical powers. However, I wanted to do nothing public or in a leadership role.
I also needed to reconcile my heart-felt connection to Christ with shamanic practice – which seemed, in my stubbornly culture-bound mind, contradictory.
Then I found the Jewish Avodah Zarah referring to “Yeshua ben Panther” – similar to the New Testament’s name for Jesus, the “Lion of Judah,” both of which seemed to indicate a shamanic lion-panther lineage.
In 2002, I realized that my lifelong problems with memory, amnesia, and submission to abusive relationships were almost certainly caused by my having been a childhood mind control subject. The first moments of research resulted in powerful emotions of understanding, fear, grief, and relief that finally many, many strange events and memories made sense.
About this time I also discovered that my birth date, 7-7-52 (three 7s), had three amazing coincidences also with the Full Moon – and learned that mind controllers are often aligned with Satanists who choose their victims by signs like these. I became utterly terrified.
In later years, spiritual counselors suggested that my soul may have chosen this date and time for my birth for powerful positive purpose, and today I assume that both theories could be true.
In late 2002, I felt strongly the need for our culture to extricate itself from the mindset of the industrial work week. (Unbeknownst to me, Jose Arguelles would that year publish Time and the Technosphere, which makes a strong argument that the Gregorian calendar is a fundamental aspect of our entire planet’s mind control.) I self-published a moon-week Almanac-Datebook-Journal for Southern Arizona for 2003, which guided users to connect with the cycles of nature through gardening, food gathering, tracking the stars, remembering our local history, and more. It sold out that year, and another larger printing sold out the next.
From 2003 – 2005, “alien” experiences also began to occur regularly at my hermitage, complicating my struggle to discover a simple theology and practice. Assertions from various quarters were that “aliens” (often no type mentioned, and all implied) only want to help us or, from others, seek only to destroy us. I eventually decided they were both partly correct. My years of solitary desert life convinced me we live with a vast variety of other intelligences in our cosmos, from demonic to angelic, and the simple term “aliens” is wholly insufficient to describe them.
Facing poverty and feeling like a “sitting duck” for both aliens and mind control technicians, I decided to leave my hermitage and return to society. While waiting for my home and land to sell, I moved to a friend’s land in the Cochise Stronghold. Because of my past-life connection to Cochise’s tribe, it was gratifying to be there and participate in sweat lodges. Experiences of leaving this dimension, or at least leaving consciousness of it, continued.
When my house sold, I had funds for a few years to do many things I’d never been able to do. I took myself to Hawaii to attend a conference on “aliens and spirituality.” Afterward, I stayed and swam with dolphins for two weeks, having more mystical experiences, including one with archangel Ariel, an hour and a half playing non-stop, alone, with dolphins, and more healings for myself and others.
In my new home in Silver City, NM, I immediately found a spiritual circle, and accepted training in a new healing modality akin to Reiki, but chose not to practice it, uncomfortable with both set rituals and the role of healer.
Following advice for dealing with New Mexico’s laws regarding faith healing practices, I became an ordained minister with the online Universal Life Church, though I never presented myself as a minister.
Later that year, I was also certified as a Transpersonal Hypnotherapist™, a field which recognizes and integrates the spiritual with the psychological and physical. While I did almost no marketing, colleagues referred me to clients who gave strongly positive testimonials. Still shy and uncertain about presenting my life in this context, I allowed my new practice to quietly close, though individuals still come to me now and then.
For years I attended week-long “conscious conferences” in Santa Fe, including one on shamanism. There I met Hawaiian shaman-author Hank Wesselman and was surprised to witness ¾ of a crowd of hundreds of shamanic practitioners quietly attest that Jesus was a major Teacher and Helper for them – an important opening for me.
At an “Oil and Water” conference of Indigenous and mainstream academics, in 2007, I was singled out of the crowd of hundreds and given personal encouragement from two Native medicine people. One came to tell me about a traditional Native story, which had for years made me fearful that I was attracting predator energies from the other side by acting like Rabbit (“Don’t eat me, Hawk!”); the Native man, who I’d not told my private worry, initiated the conversation and advised me that the story actually had a different, supremely encouraging ending – exactly what I needed to hear.
I also re-met psychologist and shamanic practitioner Ralph Metzner who encouraged me to write a book about my spiritual and “alien” experiences.
In 2008, I traveled for two weeks to various sacred sites in Peru, where I experienced more healing events, and also spoke with Native people about “aliens,” specifically those who built the humanly-impossible massive stone structures. They said “De claro…” [of course] when asked about aliens in our histories.
In 2008, I self-published RattleSnake Fire: a memoir of extra-dimensional experience about my lifelong mind control, psychic, shamanic and “alien” experiences, and my work to self-heal. The Foreword was written by Ralph Metzner, and the book was well praised (“a tour de force…important historical document”) and resulted in national and local radio, television and personal appearances around the Southwest.
I continued to war with my desire to be of spiritual service versus my critical judgement of others who claim to serve but appear to do little good and sometimes do much harm. Aware of my own judgements, I feared subjecting myself to judgement from others. Besides, I felt I still had to contend with occasional mind control and other “demons.”
Mysterious scars frequently showed up on my body when I woke in the morning, including once a mark that looked like a healed thyroid surgery scar, and other times bruises, Taser burns, “scoop marks,” and more.
Worst, more than once I found myself seeming to be under someone else’s control, as I acted totally contrary to my conscious intentions and best interests – and was fully aware in the moment that my conscious brain was silently screaming inside at my inability to control my actions. Events like these brought me back to terror, suicidal thoughts, and diminished ability to concentrate on work to make a living.
Grieving and fighting suicidal urges, I used my shamanic practice and relationship with Yeshua to strengthen myself and continue healing from mind control and the multiple personality disorder upon which it is based.
I created a website, ParadigmSalon.net, to document my experiences and support others experiencing the same.
In 2013, still looking for other useful things to offer the world (anything but overtly spiritual service!), I renewed my 1989 certification as a Permaculture [ecological] designer, and began consulting on home and garden design, which I believe can result in spiritually uplifting and healing environments for people, as my own garden has been healing and grounding for me.
Unfortunately, at the Permaculture training, I experienced a very strange night-time event in my tent, finding myself wrapped tightly in a sleeping bag from which I had a hard time extricating myself, and then finding myself having been turned 180 degrees inside my tent – the same night that others heard a humming motor above the trees of our campsite.
For the next six months, I felt sabotaged every week before a workshop I’d scheduled, waking with more bruises, burns, and unexplainable total exhaustion and inability to think straight, and was distressed to feel forced to quit consulting – “for awhile.”
In February 2014, I was moved by a history of Martin Luther King‘s civil rights activism, based, of course, in religious faith. I saw the parallels between his work for Black Americans and what I want to accomplish for mind control subjects, so I asked for guidance on what to do next.
Then, I read the introduction to Black Elk Speaks, in which Black Elk describes his early spiritual experiences, how he kept them a secret, like me, and told how his “demons” wouldn’t leave him alone. Terrified, like me, he became isolated, like me, and his community thought him angry and strange (maybe also like me). Eventually, seeking help, he told his experiences to his elders, and they recognized his situation: the “demons” would continue to hound him until he accepted his calling.
I immediately recognized the similarity to my recent decade-plus and finally accepted that I would answer the calling I’d first heard during my hermit years in the desert. But what, exactly, to do?
On the Full Moon in May 2014, I was awakened in the night to type for hours, drafting this account of my spiritual life and an outline of work I could imagine. I continued writing and editing almost non-stop for a week.
As I developed this site, I experienced tremendous peace and energy, realizing that in bringing this important part of myself “out of the closet,” I was healing at least one more part of my multiple-ness.
Since mind control is based on fracturing the personality, I realized that keeping any part of myself intentionally hidden reinforces my fractured state. As I wrote and publicly reclaimed this spiritually dedicated part of me, I felt yet more of me “come together.”
Now, a year and a half later, December 1, 2015, I realize I’ve continued to drag my feet – and continued to wake with strange marks on my body and to feel “beat up” by mysterious forces in the night – whether alien or mind control or both, I can only theorize.
Meantime, I continue to work with Yeshua and other Helpers and with the guidance of a curandera. I pray my efforts to understand the mysteries of our multi-dimensional world, as well as the terrors of our technologically and religiously mind controlling culture, will eventually bear fruit and help others on their frightening – but hopefully, ultimately enlightening – paths.
My life of activism, business consulting, art, and more can be found at jeaneisenhower.com.