Garden Healing Church

Grateful for Healing in Nature – for all of us mind control subjects


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Pleiadian Starseeds?

I just watched a few videos on Gaia TV, interviews with Sebastian Martin.


It inspired me to write my memories of my connection to Pleiadians, in context with other important aspects of my life. It seems our lives were quite different, but they do seem to fit into an overall picture which is encouraging to me.

In November 1999, I remembered leaving my home in the Pleiades. I felt “young” (100 years old?), very well educated , going on a mission with fellow Pleiadeans, watching the Pleiades recede from a rear window, wondering what it will feel like to be gone for a very long time. No Earthly emotions.

We joined a convention of other races in space (the Alliance?), concerned about the Earth, agreeing we couldn’t decide whether to intervene or not until we had more information. (One faction suggested things were so bad, Earth should be destroyed, blown up.)

A group of us volunteered to incarnate here to gather more information. And, while we’re here, try to introduce positive ideas into the social consciousness.

I did not know what I was getting into when I agreed to be born into the heart of mind control. The first time I was tortured, about one day old, I left my body, looked down briefly at the room, then flew up over the clouds and called to my colleagues, whom I assumed had witnessed my experience because it was so intense and we were still psychically connected. I assumed they would agree with me that we should all leave, because the agreement was to stay together or leave together, and this was far worse than I had expected. But my colleagues said that the families they were born into were worth staying for, and they assured me they believed that was true for most of the planets inhabitants.

I was momentarily stunned at their majority opinion, but our colleagues who did not incarnate agreed to provide me extra support, and I accepted this.

For some years, I left my body a lot, until they told me I needed to slow down the frequency. They somehow closed the portal I had been using, and I got used to staying, waiting for them, with sadness.

Soon I quit trying but was so happy whenever the portal opened, always when I was in my bed, before I fell asleep, and I would see the vortex above me (to my right), knew I was leaving, going to see my people, then I would suddenly plop back into my bed, with no memories of what had happened, but deep gratitude, confidence and assurance that everything was going to be okay, and I knew I was cared for.

One day, when I was still fairly young, I came back with a new feeling of huge disappointment. They had told me I had to be patient for an even longer time now, abut that they would be watching and helping me always, but I wouldn’t be able to talk to them for a very long time. And it was even best if I would forget about them in my Earthly personality. And I did.

Through the rest of my childhood and into my 30s, I had no particular beliefs about the other realms. In my 30s, however, I met environmentalist pagans and was invited to their ceremonies in the forest, but I tip-toed away, not sure what I believed.

Years later, I found myself saying that if something we call Spirit existed, It would let me know. And soon I had a healing involving trees talking to me, encouraging me to hug one of them, and then an incredible frequency of energy pouring down through me that I described as feeling as though I’d had a radio inside me tuned to static all my life, and the radio had just been turned off. I struggled to find more words to describe it, using crystalline and clarity. I would never be the same again.

When my son got cancer (later healed), and I realized I had to divorce my abusive second husband (who was my mind control handler), I had a nervous breakdown (highly recommended), and had my first realizations that I had been sexually abused as a child.

The next year I realized I was a “multiple personality,” and moved out to the desert to build a small strawbale home off grid. There, I began years of experiences others called shamanic.

All my years of wondering if something called Spirit existed, I refused to read “spiritual” books. I did not want to have anyone else’s ideas frame my experiences and possibly twist them. And I was flatly disinterested in the subject of aliens.

One weekend, I joined environmentalist friends camping in the desert, where one man insisted I look at the Pleiades through his binoculars. I was talking to someone else and didn’t want to look at sparkly things in the sky. He insisted further, and with much irritation, I looked. To my absolute astonishment I was shocked to feel powerful sensations of home and longing that made me want to cry. I couldn’t hold back and blurted out that I thought I was from there, then immediately slapped my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. I had been programmed by our culture making consistent fun of people who believed in things like this. I continued confused and silent about the experience for years.

As Y2K approached, I became concerned that I wanted to be a more careful documentarian about my strange experiences, so I decided to change my journaling style into something closer to a science journal. Instead of bemoaning my distressing situation of being a victim of sexual abuse, divorced from abusive men, alone and confused, with weird things continuously happening that seemed too much in a single person’s life, I decided to simply document precisely what I had experienced, separate from what I assumed it meant, and separate from my emotions. Sometimes I would write about a different category of spiritual events, where the 3-D world suddenly was shot through with the revelation of other dimensions and beings.

On the eve of Y2K, I burned all my journals from the 80s and 90s (unfortunately). And began my science journals. (Today I have three large boxes of journals, which I’ve summarized into a database with over 1,100 lines describing events or select parts of complex events.)

Powerful experiences unfolded in the coming years, with spirit animals, natural animals, angels, Jesus, Isis, orbs, UFOs, aliens, and people I assume were government agents. It seemed too much.

Finally, I went to the library and brought home the maximum number of books allowed on one subject – almost all of them about aliens – and I began to read what others had experienced.

It would be many years before I recognized that I had disability to interact in other dimensions because I had become so familiar with other realms by leaving my body so often during childhood abuse.

One morning I woke with a surgical incision on my neck that seemed to have been done with the very highest technology, likely alien. (Five years later a nurse practitioner noticed it, and asked when I’d had my thyroid surgery.)

Eight years after realizing I was a multiple personality, I would realize I was also a mind control subject. It was Earth shaking to me, and I wrestled with my life purpose and whether it would be better to not be alive, so as not be an asset to people abusing other people so terribly.

By happenstance, I reconnected with an environmentalist-pagan acquaintance, who came to live with me, and help me believe I had a purpose in staying alive.

When we were deciding whether he would come live with me, multiple signs delighted us, including us waking throughout the night in our camp and me repeatedly seeing the Pleiades over his head.

Over the years, I came to realize he was continuously distracting me from my spiritual and meditative life, so I wondered whether he was yet another handler, and I asked him to leave, and he did. He had also interfered with my livelihood, I was in debt, and someone seemed to be sabotaging all my efforts to get work. I was also feeling like a sitting duck for alien and government harassment, so I sold my home and left (as if I could escape them).

I had experienced small grays, very tall ones with military bearing, ones that took me up in a beam and moved me through two portals, ones that took me up into a huge triangle ship along with my pagan partner, and one Draco with military bearing who immobilized me, put a device to the back of my head and made me unconscious. I had also been stopped on the highway, lost two hours of time, and had something implanted in my vagina. And with two guests visiting my pagan friend and I, we witnessed a UFO shot down and listened to the reconnaissance mission as it passed by on the highway. (My home was not too distant from Fort Huachuca, a major Air Force intelligence base.)

I had no context for understanding these varied experiences, and was afraid to tell anyone. (I had been consistently called a liar by my mother after I had talked about my sexual abuse at the age of four, so I was careful to always tell the truth and afraid to tell a truth that no one would believe.)

However, when I read Whitley Strieber’s book Secret School, a book about his memories of being in some sort of training on another dimension, I decided to write him. After a year he wrote me with an emotional story about having intended to contact me immediately, but some sort of mind control was stopping him. Soon after, I was interviewed by him and Jim Marrs.

A local Native shaman visited and offered himself as a teacher by way of a gift of a white eagle tail feather, but my mind control seemed to freeze me so that I could not say a word, and he and his wife eventually drove away.

After I sold my home and had money, I would attend consciousness conferences and be surprised to have Native people approach me and tell me things I had been wondering for years and needed to know. In one case a group of Native women seemed delighted to see some other-dimensional beings traveling with me over my head.

In medicine journeys as well as mundane life, I frequently had Native women on another dimension drop into or emerge from inside me and take over for a short while.

A European shaman and renowned consciousness researcher, Ralph Metzner, offered to write the Foreword to my book if I would write it, as he had been encouraging me to do, so I did, and he did. (My book was well praised, but has been “shadow banned” on Amazon, and all the reviews of my book have disappeared.)

Also at consciousness conferences, I seemed to have been recognized by people involved in mind control. They never initiated contact, but when we passed in a hallway, they stared and I could psychically hear their mental wrestling with how to act as if they hadn’t recognized me.

After a YouTube video about my book went modestly viral, views suddenly stopped, and the numbers in the thousands began running backward. It was clear the controllers did not want me to communicate.

In September 2009, I had a vision of a translucent egg-shaped ship approaching Earth, just letting me know it was nearby and wanting me personally to know that. I was too afraid to think of anything too good happening for me, so I held it in a place of wonder, but not belief.

Soon, I seemed to have been made a guinea pig for various government experiments, especially in frequency weapons. I woke up with taser burns, biopsy scoop marks, strange bruises, joints out of place, and eventually an inoculation with Lyme Disease (an event from which I came back to consciousness earlier than the doctors expected, and heard one man tell another that this would kill me slowly).

I became disabled, quit my job, was unable to pay for a doctor to help me understand what I had, left my new home, and lived in an RV for five years, camping in Nature.

As a nomad, I realized I was still being targeted with various experiments and harassments wherever I went.

Nevertheless, living in Nature for five years, on Social Security, not working, I had time to think about my life, and remember the positive parts about it, including the mystery of why I thought I was from the Pleiades.

My mind control had included suggestions to never believe anything good could come to me, so it was a big struggle to remember the positive things that have come to me throughout my life:

Coming here to do good and relay information to others.

Having spontaneous healing and channeling flow through.

Having been healed myself when in despair and not expecting help.

Some of my experiences I’ve never known for sure whether they were from my helpers or my controllers – experiences like downloads that force me to stagger to the nearest chair, dreams about spaceships, beams of healing energy, and the emergence of an inner warrior who can immediately and easily dismiss an evil spirit intent on threatening me. None of these things did I desire. Possibly because of my mind control, I wanted it only to be average and normal, definitely not have to be associated with extraordinary things.

Because I’ve been socially sabotaged, isolated, and lied about for decades by family and handle-husbands, I’ve been very uncertain about how I’m supposed to accomplish anything. Because my angels (Pleiadian colleagues?) keep healing me, I believe there must be something I’m supposed to do, but I do not understand how to accomplish anything, given my situation.

Currently, I have my professional/activist website, separate from my mind control website, separate from my Garden Healing Church website, which I just sat down and wrote as if channeled one day, and haven’t done very much with. I keep my mind control stuff and my spiritual stuff separate from the rest of me. Because easy because of my MK and being a “well designed” multiple and four fear of being called crazy. I did finally put links between them a few years ago, but I never tell anyone in my main group of friends and acquaintances about what is in the other sites.

Why? Having been isolated and sabotaged and discredited, it’s hard to be vulnerable with information other people simply don’t believe.

Also, my efforts to communicate so often result in punishment.

Also, I hesitate to state anything with certainty when we live in such an environment of lies. I don’t want to be wrong.

(The videos I watched were part of Gaia TV’s Cosmic Disclosure: Pleiadian Agenda with Josh Golembeske.)

JeanEisenhower.com


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“The Rebel Jesus” by Jackson Browne

rebel jesus screen shot

If you’ve never heard it, here’s a youtube version:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tr1d0ivyTTk

This is the time of year we pull out a favorite song to perform for a couple of months wherever we can get away with it:  “The Rebel Jesus” by Jackson Browne.

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I say “wherever we can get away with it” because the lyrics are beautifully radical, just like Christ.  Here they are:
“The Rebel Jesus” by Jackson Browne
The streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants’ windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes
Will be gathering around the hearths and tables
Giving thanks for all God’s graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesusjesus_016They call him by the “Prince of Peace”
And they call him by “The Saviour”
And they pray to him upon the sea
And in every bold endeavor
As they fill his churches with their pride and gold
And their faith in him increases
But they’ve turned the nature that I worshipped in
From a temple to a robber’s den
In the words of the rebel JesusWe guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus

jesus meditatingBut pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgement
For I’ve no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In this life of hardship and of earthly toil
We have need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel Jesus.

 

Blessed Holidays, Everyone.


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No longer a shamanic practitioner

imagesI mean no disrespect to shamanic practitioners, but I have just become aware of how unproductive, and maybe spiritually vulnerable, that attempted practice has been for me.  Yesterday, I stood at my alter, before an overwhelming clutter of totems of various animals that have played a significant role in my life, many totems of some of them, and felt a cacophony of guilt in my head for not being more disciplined about staying in connection with each of them, as is supposedly my responsibility if I want to accept their gifts.  But I have failed in that responsibility again and again.

Yeshiva - (I meant to write, and thought I wrote "Yeshua," but I wrote this interesting derivation!  Wonder where that came from….

Yeshiva – (I meant to write, and thought I wrote “Yeshua,” but I wrote this interesting derivation! Wonder where that came from….

And I had tremendous guilt about not acknowledging Yeshua more, whom I consider my spiritual leader, my tribal chief – but I hate the images of him painted in our culture by obnoxious evangelists and corrupt doctrine-writers, so unlike my image of him as the counter-culture, anti-materialist, love and peace prophet.  And since the foundation of my programming was done in churches with all that other religious iconography and his “name” – JEEZ-suz – being used (American South rendering of the Greek translation of his Hebrew name).  (And I’ll save for later the story of how a “Christian” church helped my abusive husband take my kids from me for two years.)   So my picture of Yeshua has him in a lotus pose, in saffron robes, flowers in a necklace, surrounded by lotus flowers, his heart open, wounded and shining, a crown of thorns on his head, a halo, a hand sign of peace, a gesture to the heart, and a look of calm sincerity.  (It came from a magazine cover, and I’ll appreciate if anyone can help me with the source – I’d like to credit it and the artist.)

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I also like this portrait of him. His counsel regarding prayer: “Pray alone.” I like that. Feels most real to me.

So yesterday, I stood before my altar, hands at prayer pose, namaste, feeling very real with him, confused about who I am and how I’m doing, a racket of other voices – or my imagination of them – telling me I’m a bad shamanic practitioner and I can’t keep up any discipline.  Suddenly, I realized I didn’t have to.  Yes, I’d really believed I was strong enough to accept the shamanic initiation invitation, and I’d told myself, “Once the doors are opened, you can’t shut them” – and that’s true – but I had assumed that that meant I had to use those shamanic practices to keep my bearings in that world.  Suddenly I realized that, even though I was invited, and that means the doors have been opened, I don’t have to play by their rules, i.e., shamanism.  Yes, I’ve had many amazing, sublime shamanic experiences, but I don’t feel the need to sit in counsel with animal spirits.  I believe the animal spirits, trees spirits, insect spirits, and all the elementals and devas and intelligences of every sort in this Ocean of Spirit can come to my aid, and they will when called, but I will take my counsel in prayer with Yeshua.  And I realized all those totems were way to much visual noise.  I kept a few things to remind me of special events, but those very few are scattered now around the house.  My eagle feather hangs in a tree, where it probably likes it better.  And Yeshua is uncrowded in the center of my wall.

Oh, my Lord, I can’t tell you what an energy rush that was to remove everything!!  Once I began, it was like an avalanche:  many, many items now sit out in the sunroom awaiting separation into piles of gifts, piles of things to throw away, and things to sell.  (I’m not assuming these things are wrong for someone else, and thereby am recycling them for someone else’s life lessons.)  The clearing in here is palpable!

Last night, we talked about some things I’d thought we’d never be able to face, but we did.  We hardly slept last night,  both racked to our souls, and today we both feel clean and clear and dedicated to love and creative living.  What a relief!

At one point I sobbed, “I feel like I’ve been in a balloon, tossed around in a harrowing storm for 21 years, and I just touched ground safely.

Another image appeared of an abscess lanced, gaping open, being flushed out.  Relief.

~

March 9, 2016:  I still relate, for the most part, to this blog, though I don’t close the door on the possibility of returning to the practice in a new form.  Not yet.


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Shamanism, Mind Control, Christ, “Aliens,” and Me

This post – and 140-some more, providing a history of my evolution in spiritual understanding and healing – can be found at paradigmsalon.net.

What is shamanism?  How do I relate to shamanism?  Is shamanism dangerous?  How does it relate to mind control?  Am I a shaman?  Am I dangerous?  Where does Jesus fit in?  Who are “aliens”?

imagesFirst, What is shamanism?

Shamanism exists across all cultures under different names, but the Siberian word has come to stand in for our contemporary understanding of the global, cross-cultural practice.

In all cultures, a few people (some estimate 2% or fewer) seem to have greater ability than others to perceive energies and intelligences in other dimensions and are often encouraged by their tribe to spend time in this practice of perception for the good of the people.

(The exception is for those born into a society hostile to or afraid of other dimensions, in which case, the shamanically-inclined person’s perceptions will be discouraged subtly or violently, i.e., those born in the United States.)

The natural shaman who is allowed to explore his or her facility will devote the majority of his or her life to learning to perceive more clearly, learning to protect him or herself from dangerous energies or intelligences, learning to communicate with useful and benevolent intelligences, and learning how to apply what they learn to help their tribe.  They will be an important source of knowledge to the tribe, for instance on growing and harvesting food and medicines, knowing of food game migrations, knowing the approach of strangers or bad weather, and healing for various illnesses, physical, emotional, spiritual, and social.

DVD template dollMany shamans are those who suffered at least one serious trauma at a young age; it caused them to leave their body and thereby experience the multi-dimensional world beyond the mundane.  For this reason, at least one tribe that I’ve heard of, when in need of a shaman, creates one intentionally by inducing a trauma on a young child in a carefully proscribed way: they separate a child of speaking age away from the tribe but within hearing distance in a cage where he or she is kept for a few years, cared for in a minimal way, but never spoken to or spent time with other than necessary.  The child can hear the tribe, but cannot interact and so eventually begins to spend more time separating psychically from the mundane and social life of the tribe and turn his or her awareness toward the larger cosmos.  This larger world, of course, includes other dimensions with other intelligences that they begin to interact with and with which they develop strong relationships.  Eventually the tribe retrieves the child and reintegrates him or her with honor back into the tribe, but the young shaman is never again like the rest.  For the rest of his or her life, the shaman will perform the daily work of seeking and delivering information and skills the tribe needs for survival and well-being.

Shamans generally communicate most effectively with intelligences in other realms when in an “altered” state of consciousness, which they self-induce by way of drumming, rattling, dancing, and sometimes using plant medicines.  From the standpoint of those trained in church settings, with hymn books, “Sunday clothes,” choir robes, and certain proscribed decorum, especially of First World America, these methods may seem superstitious and perhaps frightening.  This is, of course, a matter of cultural indoctrination.

How do I relate to shamanism?

The United States of America, of course, is not a culture that appreciates shamanic wisdom, but rather is hostile to it.  So when I, as a young child, had interactions with child-like angels, went into portals at night (which came to me, though I could never open them on my own), and spoke with plants and animals, I learned quickly to keep these things secret, and soon decided to put them out of my life.  Of course, when I began school, there was no time to investigate further with a schedule of American “education” and entertainment – probably designed so – and I soon “forgot” about my experiences.

I also remember the time I was told by beings who seemed like my family on other dimensions that I wouldn’t see them for “a very long time.”  I was devastated and pleaded for them not to go away.  They assured me it was necessary and they’d be watching over me, but I wouldn’t be able to be with them again for a long time.  The unspecific “long time” was additionally distressing, as I had nothing to look forward to.  They insisted I trust them and do my best on my own, promising they’d watch over me.  (I recognize, with this story, that I can’t entirely blame America for discouraging my shamanic awareness; it might have been required anyway, for some reason I do not understand.)

As an adult I continued to experience occasional “non-normal” events, much less frequently, but still very amazing.  I kept quiet about them, and this inclination was reinforced when I witnessed the mockery dealt to those who told of experiences like mine.

In 1994, at age 42, when my own children were on their own, I moved to the desert of Cochise County, Arizona, where for half of each week, I spent my days without clocks or calendar, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired, watching sunrises, sunsets, weather, animals, and the landscape changing with the seasons.  I read and wrote about whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and spent every sunset outside.  The other half of the week, I attended graduate school for creative writing, and lived on student loans, which allowed me this indulgence.

teepee under oaksAfter a year, I left the hermitage but returned in 2000, uncertain what I would be doing, but willing to live (simply, with no mortgage and few other expenses) on credit cards – for at least awhile.  The freedom I gave myself seemed to open doors, and I was soon experiencing a wealth of non-normal events, which a friend put words to:  a shamanic initiation.

Is shamanism dangerous?

That’s like asking if the world is dangerous.  Yes, depending on what you do in the world or the other realms.

Some shamans don’t use discernment, get conned, and connect with evil or troublesome intelligences on other realms and are subsequently known as bad shamans, bad ministers, witches, brujos or brujas.  (Good ones are known as shamans, good ministers, curanderos, curanderas, also brujos or brujas, witches, and many other names.)

How does this relate to mind control?

Bad shamans, I assert, can also be created by others – similar to the tribe’s method for good purposes, but this is done by controllers for potentially very dark purposes.

This, I believe, is a barely understood aspect of the darkest sort of mind control (MK), in which the subject is trained in psychic skills for other’s purposes, not for the good of the tribe.

Milder forms of mind control are of course also practiced broad-scale on the general populace, but I’m writing here about the darkest aspects of a most intense version of MK practiced on selected individuals, which involves the creation of amnesic super soldiers, couriers, spies, assassins, and sex slaves – and among them individuals with enhanced psychic abilities for remote viewing and more.

Our nation’s intelligence agencies have been highly interested in psychic powers for many decades, at least.  And many adults who were made subjects of mind control experiments as children recall being tested for psychic skills.  (I don’t have this particular memory, but I remember little other than MK intake and nightmares afterward.  And I have noticed profound psychic events most of my life.)

If those intelligence agencies could train an army of psychic spies, of course they would.  But they would need to make the psychic/shamanic spies totally loyal to them, and amnesic.  The subjects’ shamanic skills might not even be known to the subjects and would be totally in service to the controllers.

I believe the process they put us through – mind control, or MKULTRA – included a perverse variation on the ancient, but apparently rare, tribal practice of creating shamans, only they isolated us and tortured us brutally, so that we’d be both amnesic and totally subservient.

It seems to have worked well enough, judging by the number of people who believe they’ve been used as psychic information gatherers for most of their lives, with memories of remote viewing (some of my experiences) and even some with memories of conducting spiritual warfare on behalf of others.

The army of MK subjects is aging now, and our control may be breaking down.  With age, mental structures – including amnesic barriers – begin deteriorating.  Memories that were supposed stay hidden begin to arise, and the controlled ones begin to put together pieces of what happened to them.  Then, controllers have to weigh the risks and benefits of keeping them in service.  They may still have value, may still perform their duties regularly enough, but they need reprogramming more and more often.  I believe I’m in this latter category and that the frequency of physical wounds left on my body are evidence of this.

Some of us are also talking and educating others.  That creates more work for someone in the system to discredit us or divert our communications efforts.  If we become too much trouble, then they apparently kill the individual.  But if they can manage the downsides without too much effort, they can continue using their assets (representing decades of investment).

While I’ve begun understanding all this, I’ve begun reclaiming my shamanic skills for my own uses.

Am I a shaman?  Am I dangerous?

No, I’m not a shaman.  I’m a common “shamanic practitioner” (meaning simply, at this point:  I pray daily and spend time listening and recording).

I have occasionally been used to heal a number of people, receive messages from people who’d died unexpectedly, and other shamanic tasks.   I didn’t try to do this and sometimes resisted, but spirit nudged me and I allowed the actions to flow through me.

I pray I’m not dangerous as a potentially controllable shamanic practitioner, but I don’t know for certain – which is why I quit working with activist groups and quit offering psychic, shamanic, and healing work (which I did for a very short while).  It’s even why I quit my own private shamanic practice for a while: occasionally, I’ve thought it best to try to live only in the mundane world.

(Silly me.  Once the extra-dimensional doors are open, it doesn’t seem possible to close them.  Or else our other-dimensional helpers simply need us on this plane Unknown-2

and won’t leave us alone – as shaman Black Elk described in his biography.)

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Taser burn (second-degree, removing skin) that appeared overnight, November 29, 2010, photographed two days later.

So I still wake up with evidence on my body that tells me that something was done to me in the night for which I have absolutely no memory:  two Taser burns, four or five incidents of two or three obvious “scoop marks” or biopsies, many bruises including apparent injection bruises, lacerations inside my vagina, apparent implants in various locations, and mysteriously healed and obvious surgical and other scars – a total of well over one-hundred physical marks since I began recording them a decade ago (see photo history on this site).  Plus many incidents of “missing time,” being conscious but immobilized, sensing vibrational/dimensional changes, being shot with energy beams, and even surrounded by strange fog forcing me to stop on the highway (one of three times).

I’ve tried not to assume the worst about this, that I’m being used by others for bad purposes.  When I have assumed the worst, I’ve sought help, found none, and then wanted out of this life – but I feel very certain that that’s not best for my soul, so I stay and eventually come out of my depression.  And I try to keep an open mind to other possibilities while also enjoying life and being a useful member of my community.

A positive explanation for all these marks is that they’re left by spirit family who, for whatever reason, can’t communicate with me because of my personal and our cultural mind control or other reasons, and actually all these things (or some of them) are for good, though I can’t understand now.  But I have no support for this other than my own wish for a positive interpretation.

Where does Jesus fit in?

58d2d41dd980effea93bdd5a21a5dac5I’ve read a few times that there’s no historical evidence for the existence of Jesus, and I’ve read that there is.  I don’t know.

do know that I’ve had extremely positive experiences a few times in my life when I contemplated his teachings and also when I’ve called on him – even in thoughtless, terrorized shock – for protection.  At those times I felt, not only that Christ was a powerful inter-dimensional being who could be called on for help, but that I know him on other dimensions, have known him for many lifetimes, and we’re kin.

So why am I not a “Christian”?  I used to be.  I even used to be a Christian minister’s wife.  But I’ve had horrendous experiences with Christians, particularly in assisting my husband in wresting my children away from me for no more reason than that I believed divorce was acceptable.  So today I have a visceral revulsion to the sight of pews in a church “sanctuary.”  (I got my children back after two years.)

I consider Christ’s teachings and the Christian Church to be entirely separate things.  After all, the Church was begun by the same government that for over 300 years used murder and torture to repress his followers; so it’s obvious to me that the Roman Church was the beginning of a massive disinformation campaign to attract would-be followers of Christ and trap them in religious routines.  Protestants tried to get away from it, but each break-away group has been infiltrated and controlled in a similar manner.  Even my last church, purportedly an independent “home church” where the dozen members would meet and take turns in leadership, was diverted in its intentions by a controlling couple who not only tried to take my children away from me, but did the same over a few years with two other divorcing couples, along with putting down any discussion of social justice (a major teaching of Christ’s) as “divisive.”

When I finally realized that rejecting the Church and rejecting Christ were two different things, I had to figure out how Christ fit into my shamanically-evolving life.  For instance, would he accept my efforts to connect with and learn from power animals as well as him?

yy12Here’s my conclusion to date:  We live in an ocean of spirit, highly populated with good and bad, benevolent and evil beings, many in-between, evolving, stupid, not-so-stupid-but-not-helpful-enough-to-bother-with, and everything in between.  Perhaps it swirls like an infinitely intricate yin-yang design.  On the benevolent side is Christ as the leading light, teaching, prophesying, offering to save us and help us everyday; on the other side is everything we call evil, including mind control.

Here’s where my theology breaks from the masses:  Even though Christ is an infinitely intelligent being, and infinite in powers, he doesn’t personally, magically do everything asked of him by his followers.  I see his existence as much more natural and organic than that.  As the largest tree in the forest doesn’t “do everything” for itself, but is served by birds, insects, fungi, moss, mammals, rain, etc., so Christ is served by other connected intelligences who serve our needs as go-betweens on Christ’s behalf.

Some people call the go-between intelligences the Holy Spirit or angels, others call them devas, faeries, elementals, and even aliens.  I try to ignore the language because the cultural cartoons associated with the words get in our way of deeper, subtler understanding; cartoons are probably part of our cultural mind control, used to mock and disempower otherwise very empowering truths.

So I imagine an infinite field of intelligent energy, among which Christ is supreme, at least at this arm of our galaxy, at least for me and those of us who choose to align with him.  When we direct energy and requests his way, the same way a tree root directs a need toward fungi in the soil, the communication is heard and responded to via a series of interactions, not a simple two-part process; and our needs are met in the multi-dimensional world in a similar manner as needs are met in the natural world on the material plane, via many interactions with many parts, intelligences, or beings.

As a shamanic practitioner, communicating in the multiple dimensions, I petition Christ first and last.  Often, he seems to respond by sending a particular person, angel, situation, or spirit animal (or physical animal) my way.

I used to feel very conflicted about this, as though I were hedging my bets, not being loyal to The One – though The One is All, many say.  Then I attended a shamanic conference and witnessed three-quarters of a roomful of a hundred-and-fifty shamanic practitioners raise their hands to the question “Who considers Jesus Christ a major help among your spirit helpers?”  That gave me permission to trust my vision of this world as a great network of evolving intelligence, inside which I could align myself with Christ, but still be connected to all that was also aligned with him, which is a huge net of Life on many dimensions.

And then I read about the Avodah Zarah, a Jewish text, in which Christ was called Yeshua ben Panther – a very shamanic-sounding name!  (Similar to “Lion of Judah” and “Lion of God,” other Biblical names.)  And I recalled Christ saying that we would “do all these things [healings, he was speaking of] and more” – exactly what shamans do!

While Christians may pray to Christ each day, their practice is usually based on following proscribed doctrine – words delivered by others – which tell them how to live in this material world.  I, on the other hand, have very little doctrine, and that which I have I’ve developed from my own personal experience.

Recently I’ve renewed my dedication to devote a great deal of my time to prayer and communicating with Christ and other intelligences in the other realms, and my communications are most successful when I alter my consciousness and focus my attention into other dimensions using the shamanic practices of drumming and rattling, but that’s not always necessary.  The right heartfelt attitude is enough, but the rituals are important focusing activities.

Who are “aliens”?

First, as I’ve said many times, “aliens” is too big a concept for the word to be useful – like using “marine life” to describe everything from algae to whales to human’s submarines.

I’ll use the word, though, to indicate all intelligence not bound to this mundane, three-dimensional planet, i.e., extra-terrestrial and/or extra-dimensional beings.

Many of them are reputedly “good,” supporting our evolution, while some seem to be at the very least challenging our evolution or, at worst, imprisoning us and controlling our minds, and maybe even harvesting genetic material.  I don’t know, but others have risked everything dear to them to assert such “crazy” ideas, and I hate to say that I also seem to have evidence all these things as well.

My experience with “aliens” does not include any that seem like the typical small “grays” with large, slanted, all-black eyes.  Rather, I’ve been unfortunate to have been terrorized by the types called Reptilians on EarthReptilians, even though until they became conscious to me, I’d thought the tales were unfortunate disinformation meant to discredit the whole field regarding aliens.  I’ve also seen over a dozen UFO’s, sometimes with others as witnesses.

Many researchers have documented connections between mind control and aliens, Reptilians in particular.  And while I’ve not read much of their reporting on the subject, I’ve developed my own theory, admittedly vague (vagueness is my inclination while trying to understand multi-dimensional reality with a three-dimensional mindset – seems only honest, given the limitations of language).

My vague theory is this:  I believe that, among all the alien intelligences interacting with Earth, most are benevolent, akin to anthropologists, researchers, observers, diplomats, teachers, and prophets, and to other mindsets, angels.  But there also exists other intelligence, more self-serving, among them the Reptilians, akin to pirates, corporate resource raiders, and to other mindsets, demons.

This is the “exo-political” viewpoint.  (The word exopolitics was coined by Alfred L. Webre, JD, author of Exopolitics and former Jimmy Carter White House appointee, who called my book “an important historical document”).  He writes, “We live in a highly populated cosmos.”

(Some even say no aliens are actually evil, as “All is God,” but they are only provoking us to greater spiritual awareness and development.  I have a very hard time with this idea, having experienced childhood sexual abuse as part of my fracturing and mind control, but sometimes I truly feel this real possibility – that “It’s all okay.”)

Conclusion

anima_mundiOur already-complex, Earth-bound political views need to be expanded beyond this Earth, and thereby made even more complex (sorry to put on the pressure!), in order for us to understand our multi-dimensional reality and situation.

Until we do that, we are all mind-controlled, to greater or lesser extent, to limit our vision and laugh at anything larger, and thereby miss understanding who we are and where our dangers and our powers lie in the larger cosmos.  In accepting this simplified version of life, we remain terribly vulnerable and unable to appropriately address any of our social, environmental, political, psychological, and spiritual issues.  And indeed the world does seem incredible “stuck.”

So, even though this world wants to laugh at “aliens,” laugh at “Jesus Christ” (made such a mockery on television and in movies in particular), and perhaps roll our eyes at shamanic practice, I have to say:  I was forced to overcome my own personal aversions to all of these and was then finally able to open my mind to the reality of Christ and all the other intelligence in the cosmos.

It was difficult because I then also saw the dark energies surrounding us, and me.  Christians have tried to “save” me (again), but I’ve chosen to align with Christ in my own manner, on my own two humble feet, not under the authority of another minister.  I’ve been working (more consistently since my last dark three days) to strengthen my connections to Goodness and to break the bonds of mind control.

Like everything in life, the struggle continues.  There’s no easy fix.  (Shamans must continue to protect themselves daily).  And with each day, generally, I become stronger.  Sometimes I’ve wanted to give it up, the struggle is sometimes so difficult, but those days pass, and I find I’m stronger yet each time.

Most days, I live quite happily, a formerly “closet”-shamanic practitioner, coming out.  Sometimes I’d prefer to avoid the term shamanism, so loaded with cultural misunderstanding, but for others, the word says it perfectly.  So here I am:  A minister, writer, activist, and someone who relates to spirit in a manner we call shamanic.

Jean Eisenhower
Silver City, NM
August 9, 2014