A Message from “The Family”: A Threefold Approach to Fear Mitigation

Mister Rand has been experiencing a great deal of anxiety concerning the fate of gay half-Jewish psychics like himself under the present political system. While to an observer this may seem a dread unlikely to be fulfilled due to the specificity of its parameters, Mister Rand’s fears are generated not by reason but by memory:

  • Mister Rand’s memory of his secular Jewish father’s dread of antisemitic persecution;
  • Mister Rand’s memory of persecution at the hands of his abused and abusive older brother;
  • A memory of the sense of Otherness which caused Mister Rand to hang back from full involvement with life from an early age; and
  • The memory of other incarnations to which he is linked on a spirit and soul level.

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The multidimensionality of persistent, fearful life outlook cannot be ignored without sometimes severe repercussions in the life of the fearful one. In our observations of human existence, it appears to us that the best approach to take for clearing the soul of such limitations is an approach that employs physical, psychological, and perceptual tools in more or less equal measure.

Physical, because the neuromuscular systems bear their own memories of pain inflicted upon them in the sometimes deep past, pain that can respond well to empathic bodywork, tension-relieving exercise, dietary changes, deep breathing, progressive relaxation, sexual play, and certain medications;

Psychological, because even the most rational humans, contemptuous or dismissive of such notions as Inner Child, Inner Parent, and intergenerational trauma transmission, can respond positively to mental fear-mitigation practices such as therapeutic mentorship, mindfulness training, support group involvement, and journaling; 

Perceptual, because the way one views reality can have stress-relieving, stress-inducing, or numbing effects on the sufferer, depending upon the world-view adopted.

(Mister Rand is somewhat embarrassed by our discussing his vulnerabilities so publicly. We remind him, however, that he has complete control of what we say and how it is disseminated. We further remind him that, as his neglect of this blog has allowed his followers and their “hits” to dwindle to almost nothing, it is highly unlikely that what he writes here will spread like wildfire across public media.)

Next Time:  Fear mitigation exercise #1 — Identifying the fears that rule you.

On Seeking Safe Haven

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I’ve spent most of my sixty-five years of life looking for a person, doctrine,  or organization that I could build my life around. I started out looking to my parents to fulfill this role. I found early on that I could depend upon my father to provide us with shelter, clothing, food, and the luxuries of upper middle class Anglo life, but that he was largely unavailable emotionally and could not protect me from my abusive older brother. My mother I found I could depend upon to provide me with delicious meals, delightful books, affection, and consolation, except when her alcoholism and borderline personality disorder symptoms turned her manipulative, vindictive, and sexually abusive.

For years I felt torn between the two of them, and my ambivalence took an odd turn.

Mother put pressure on me to choose her over my father, which—let’s be frank—it wasn’t hard to do, given his loud, gritted-teeth complaints, self-isolation, and demands for absolute obedience. But I liked the fact that he was a writer, and I think I sensed his self-loathing, and I identified with him more than I liked to admit at the time. Now in the bedroom they shared, my father slept on the left side of the bed, my mother on the right. So at night I felt torn. If I slept on the left side of my bed, would I be symbolically choosing my father over my mother? If I slept on the right side of my bed, would I be symbolically choosing my mother over my father? So I compromised: I taught myself to sleep flat on my back, a habit I tend to follow to this day.

Once I entered adolescence, I more or less gave up trying to find refuge in my parents’ world and I sought refuge in my private dream world of comic books, science fiction, fantasy, mythology, and chaste fantasies of joining Robin Hood’s band of Merry Men, or being adopted as innocent school mascot by my brother Anthony’s Air Force Academy classmates. When I became aware of my homosexuality, I began fantasizing about finding a Mister Right, the perfect man who, in exchange for my exclusive devotion and access to my body, would console, protect, and give shape and direction to the rest of my life.

The problem was that, owing to incest trauma, I felt sex was dirty—not just homosexuality, but all sex. I got this feeling from my mother. So I decided that I did not want to be sexual at all. After my father’s sudden death in early 1971, I sought out the sexuality-free surrogate family I’d always fantasized about: I became a celibate Fundamentalist Christian for seven years.

The people with whom I worshiped were good people, genuinely trying to live by Jesus’s teachings of love and forgiveness. Although my self-betrayal ate away at me, the love and acceptance they showed me had a healing effect on me. They gave me a refuge from the storm of my life. But in the end I left the church, and Fundamentalism, in large part because I felt I had been putting on an act. Though I was indeed celibate for most of the seven years I was with them, I now know the difference between celibacy, born of lifestyle conviction, and sexual anorexia born of abuse trauma. And I was not the only one who left. Several years ago I discovered that the pastor of the last church I attended had been gay, and had committed suicide because he had not been able to reconcile his faith with his physicality.

All this took place many decades ago. Today, at 65 years old, five feet seven inches tall, and 290 pounds, I am far from healed; I like to joke that I have more issues than National Geographic. But I have a renewed faith in Divine Love, from Whose womb I was born and to Whose womb I shall return, and for Whom my homosexuality is a natural species variation, not a monstrosity or a curse worthy of damnation. And I have been fortunate in meeting numerous fellow travelers, straight, gay, in between, and undecided, whose kindness has consistently reached out to me in dark times.

So if you are tempted to give up who you are to get love, don’t give in to that temptation. Start asking for help, and keep on asking until you start getting it. It can and does get better, but only if you refuse to let your abusers win. •

On Giving Up Theology

MAJORTRUMPS.XII.TheHermitI tend to continually compare my idealized inner picture of the world as I feel it should be with the reality I perceive around me. As a result, I am usually disappointed, because physical reality has its own rules and patterns that often do not square with my idealized inner picture. In an attempt to discover and understand these rules and patterns, I have spent most of my life exploring different philosophies, religions, and lifestyles, hoping to find one that would feel like home.

The Good Boy

As a child, I thought by being “good” according to my familial value-set, I would be rewarded with the love, safety, and belonging that I craved. When that didn’t work, I asked my Dad to send me to a psychiatrist, because I felt something was wrong with me, and if I just fixed it, everything would be smooth sailing from then on. That didn’t work, either.

Bible College

My father died suddenly, and I had a psychological snapping experience: I converted to Fundamentalist Christianity. I found a community of Bible-believing Christians who were really trying to live their faith. I did my best to follow the rules, which entailed giving up sexuality, dressing conservatively, and accepting the doctrine that I was bad through and through, a sinner deserving of eternal punishment in Hell. I even went to Bible College at my pastor’s urging and with my family’s money. But in the end, I found that no matter how hard I tried, the Fundamentalist doctrinal system was not for me the doorway into the unconditional love I’d been craving. I would pray and pray and confess sinful thought after sinful thought, but I never felt the love of Christ we sang about in chapel.

Coming Out

After that, I got into looking for love big time. I lost weight and sought out other gay men. I figured as long as I stayed slim, placed enough personal ads, and had sexual encounters in which I put my partners’ sexual needs before my own, the Universe would reward me with a longterm lover. I did find a lover, Alex, and we were together for two years, working as psychics, before his sudden suicide put an end to our earthly relationship. But if truth be told, having a lover did not satisfy me either. Almost as soon as Alex and I had moved in together, I had started gaining weight again in an unconscious attempt to put a shell of protection around myself. Inside I was still convinced I was ugly, unloveable, weak, bad, and a failure at being a man. Furthermore, I had failed to save him, so I was a failure as a partner as well.

Opening To Channel

After my lover’s death, I tried to practice, and expand upon, the the spiritual system Alex had channeled. I began doing trancework myself, and gradually, as I got better at opening my heart and mind to spirit, I felt a measure of that peace I had been seeking as long as I stayed in trance. But you can’t stay in trance twenty-four hours a day and function in physical reality. When I wasn’t channeling, I still found myself miserable, lonely, and scared.

Twelve Steps

After bulking up to over 360 pounds, in 1998 I got into a Twelve Step program for compulsive overeaters. I followed that system’s rules and procedures, and worked the Twelve Steps, a series of introspective spiritual surrender exercises. Suddenly, I started for the first time sensing a Higher Power’s benign presence around me, and lost half my body weight in 2 years. So there I was, thin again, and guess what happened? Despite my spiritual progress in the program, I still felt ugly and unloveable inside. So I left my Twelve Step program, and, increasingly tormented by the fear that the Universe was just an unconscious meat machine with no Divine Love, no survival of consciousness after death of the body, and no inherent purpose, I started overeating again. I ended up regaining all but around 60 pounds of the weight I had lost.

Letting Love In

Last November, at 302 pounds, I finally gave up the idea that any single system of philosophy or psychiatry or theology or spirituality was going to save me from my internal pain. I realized, finally, on a deepest gut level, that I had been embracing systems in an attempt to gain some control over my life.  So one day I threw up my hands and said to Divine Love, “I give up my illusion of control over my life and death. I open my heart to You fully. I realize that all the love and safety I had been seeking in a constantly and inexorably changing physical reality is only found in You. Please fill me with Yourself.” Then I went about my normal business.

But a few weeks later, something unexpected happened. While leading a group of clients in a Heart Chakra meditation, I suddenly had the first of a series of spiritual experiences that left me breathless with a genuine, transformative awareness that Divine Love is real—and not only real, but unconditional, for It is complete in Itself and needs nothing from me, only seeking my good. And the Love felt familiar—it felt like home. I thought, “How could I have forgotten You’ve been there with me all this time and I never noticed?” It was that real. Again, the high did not last for more than a few months. But in the course of it I started a love relationship with another gay man. When the Divine Love high wore off, all my incest trauma crap came rushing up, and I was forced by my escalating terror to terminate the romantic aspects of my relationship with him. I thought, “How could I have been so stupid as to think my so-called Divine Love experiences were real? The atheist materialists must be right. Spiritual experiences are just brain farts with no inherent meaning.”

Love and Flesh

celloatSarajevoIt’s been several months since my breakup with my lover and my fresh cascade of self-disappointment. I’ve calmed down a bit, and have realized a few things. Just as I had tried for years to immerse myself in systems and communities so I would not feel ugly and lonely, I had been trying to stay in the high of my visions so I wouldn’t have to feel the pain that physical reality often triggers in me. I had become, in a sense, addicted to spiritual bliss. I was using spiritual bliss to numb my pain and keep me in a protective shell where nothing could touch me, exactly the way I had once used sugar. I was trying to use spiritual bliss to protect my heart chakra from pain.

I realize now that my visionary experience of Divine Love last fall was not a brain fart, or withdrawn because I am a sinner. I know that that Love still exists whether I feel it or not. And because It is Truth as well as Love, Love refuses to be used by me to close my heart to my own pain and the pain of others. Love knows that, ultimately, I am safe; and that, ultimately, I will learn to keep my heart open to It even when I feel lost and abandoned. And I do not have to learn in isolation. Divine Love is expressed not only in visions, but through people, animals, and Nature as well. Recognizing Divine Love in the world around me is now my stated goal, and my prayer.

How have you experienced Divine Love? I would like very much to hear your story. •

On Casual Malice

A few days ago an act of casual, impulsive malice on my part caused a possibly irreparable rift between me and a dear, emotionally vulnerable friend. The impulse to hurt this person’s feelings did not come from the Devil; it came from a part of myself that I consistently refuse to acknowledge and give safe voice to, a part of me that some call the Shadow, others the Wounded Child, still others the Beast Within.

ImageAs an abuse and neglect survivor with PTSD, I prefer to think of myself as an abuse victim in recovery, not an abuser. And in general I do not go out of my way to hurt people. But my coping mechanism as a child in an alcoholic incestuous home was to be the Good Boy, which meant shoving under the surface all my unacceptable feelings and thoughts: jealousy of my mother’s preference for my baby brother; rage toward my father for his scary emotional aloofness and abandonment of me to the care of my pedophile mother; loathing of myself for my sensitivity, which my culture termed girlish—and bear in mind that in the gynephobic 1950’s, when I was a child, the worst thing one could say about a boy was that he acted like a girl. So as a child I became a compulsive eater, using sugar to shove my bad feelings down as deep as they would go. Later I became a compulsive self-castigator, criticizing my every thought and move, turning my anger upon myself because I could not feel safe expressing it toward those whom I felt had harmed me.

Needless to say, these tactics did not give me more than transitory relief from the storm inside me. It is a well-known metaphysical principle that if you wish to make a spell or sacred object more powerful, hide it out of sight. This is one of the reasons sacred objects are found buried all over the world, and sacred Paleolithic art, aimed at attracting game to the hunt and fertility to the community, was created in nearly inaccessible caves. Stuffing shadow with food or sex or overwork or gambling or alcohol or heroin or any other numbing substance or activity merely makes that shadow stronger, so that when it resurfaces, it does so with a power impossible to contain completely by an act of will alone.

I’ve done a lot of work with mentors and healers over the years. Through my Twelve Step programs I have opened successive chambers of my heart to Divine Love, and in my art therapy work with the Solace Crisis Intervention Clinic in Santa Fe I have taken major strides toward acknowledging the terror and pain of my inner self. But I can still be blindsided by my shadow, and in the case of my relationship to this dear friend, the unrequited sexual attraction I felt for my friend, my unconscious social and professional competition with my friend, and my growing emotional dependency upon my friend, changed to resentment when—and I am loath to admit this publicly—a series of tragedies in my friend’s family made my friend unavailable to me for much of the summer. So I posted several snarky and suggestive “jokes” on my friend’s webpage, despite the fact that my friend’s family (including a 12 year old niece) would have access to them; and I posted a comment on the webpage of a Meetup group my friend had organized suggesting edits to the website opening page that lessened recognition of my friend’s role as founder in the interest of “helping” the current facilitator of the group to achieve more public recognition (a recognition that worthy has never sought).

ImageIn deep grief and pain over the loss of beloved relatives, my friend—with uncharacteristic verbal and emotional violence—severed relationship with me. My friend had been under so much emotional pressure that finding my posts on the website was too much to bear with equanimity. So I, who hate to think that in me lies the potential to abuse others, have had to face the fact that under the right circumstances, my Shadow can arise and take control, suborning my empathy, muting my memory of shared kindnesses, and unleashing in me my repressed desires for revenge against my childhood caregivers. I have had to face the fact that, while I never intended to devastate my friend, I had intended to punish my friend a little bit for not meeting my infant needs—punish my friend just enough that my friend would pay more attention to me. I underestimated my friend’s emotional alertness and vulnerability.

Did I plan to hurt my friend, as my friend has accused me of doing? No. My posts were action of impulse, and I “forgot” or minimized the possible alienating effects of them as soon as I had made them. Am I responsible for the intensity of my friend’s grief and rage toward me? No. I had underestimated my friend’s vulnerability, and had had no inkling of the possibly far-reaching effects of my actions. But my shots, having been fired, cannot be taken back. They found their target. And the result has been disastrous.

However unintentioned the scope of the wound I have given my friend, and however intermixed with other wounds my friend carries from other betrayals and abuses, I have lost the privilege of our friendship. And I’m sorry. •

The Emperor’s New Clothes: A Message from “The Family”

The Emperor Essence, the Manifesting Doer.

The Emperor Essence, the Manifesting Doer.

In physical reality, things change. This is both the gift of physical reality and its curse. Only in physical reality (and its immediate support structure, thought reality) can sadness, grief, pain, fear, hatred, anger, and envy be experienced, for only in these realities is the consciousness so frameworked that it can only with difficulty maintain awareness of its immortality and abundant nature.

Such awareness limiting frameworks are necessary in order to keep the self focused in space-time. For spacetime is the most highly energetic of all realities, and thus takes the greatest concentration to focus upon. The plane of the One, on the other hand, where there is no differentiation and no change, is utter stillness and calm. The only effort required to focus upon the plane of the One is to simply let go completely.

Wandering through space-time, the self encounters many individuals who enrich and challenge its assumptions about reality. Such a person was karl Deke Von Uhl, a gentleman of Mr. Rand’s acquaintance who last night began his transition from identification with his physical self: that is, he died. The vectors that helped him die were AIDS and cancer, and he was attended by his longtime partner, Todd Parker.

Why do we mention these men here in this context? Mr Rand did not, after all, know either of them well. Mr Karl he had known in Santa Fe as a client and then, much later, as a friend; Mr Todd he has not met at all. Yet last night’s transition triggered in Mr Rand a desire to know why, given all Mr Rand’s experiences as a psychic and channeler with worlds of the unseen, he still fears death? And why, when he has sensed Mr Karl’s energies around him, more alive than ever albeit not physical, part of himself is still saddened?

Grieving the death of a loved one is not a betrayal of spiritual insight, but a natural human animal reaction to loss of continued experience of the loved one’s voice, touch, scent, breath, body. Wedded as he is to a noble animal body, Mr Rand is outfitted with an ego whose job it is to keep him in spacetime long enough for the balance of the multiverse to be maintained. One of the tools the ego employs towards this end is sex. Mr Rand thought that Mr Karl was very sexy, and although there was never sexual contact between them, for Mr Karl was partnered and had sexual tastes differing from those of Mr Rand, Mr Karl embodied the Tarot Essence called the Emperor, the most physical of all the faces of the Divine. And Emperor Essence individuals have the root chakra as their central chakra, which means that sex is usually very important to them. More than sex, Mr Karl was passionate about the sensual beauty of life: his lover’s body, the power of music (he was a professional musician), art, literature. The ugliness of life he also found beautiful, and embraced.

Mr Rand admired these powerful life energies in Mr Karl as much as he admired Mr Karl’s physical form. And so, since Mr Rand has always struggled with loathing of sexuality and physicality, the few interactions he had with Mr Karl always imbued him with fresh sense of enthusiasm for spacetime experience.

In the last weeks of Mr Karl’s earthly experience in his body, Mr Rand was privileged to offer Mr Karl spiritual and emotional support through Mr Karl’s transition process. In this Mr Rand was balancing his inability to offer such support to his lover Stuart “Alex” Lucker, who left physical reality by his own hand in 1988. Mr Todd was happy to allow Mr Rand access to Mr Karl and last night thanked Mr Rand for his encouragement.

Where is Karl Deke Von Uhl now? He is in the process of expanding the awareness of himself from physical reality through thought reality and into the causal plane or physical planning state, where he will become aware of his entire life just completed and will review how that life added, or did not add, to the balance of his experience as a whole. When Mr Karl has completed this process, he will choose whether to adopt a new physical persona or to remain in the nonphysical (or both). Should he choose to adopt a new physical persona, Mr Karl, the Emperor, will take on a new set of clothes, whether it be in the physical universe Mr Todd and Mr Rand presently occupy or some other. And so the multiversal balance will continue to be fulfilled.

Yet for Mr Todd, and for Mr Rand to a lesser extent, there is grief; and not only for them, but for hundreds of other individuals whose lives Mr Karl touched and challenged and enriched. So although Mr Karl did not complete the great works of writing he envisioned as his purpose, he left many fine writings behind him; and more than this, he gave a visceral life-affirming love to many who knew him. And so in no sense can Mr Karl’s life just past be considered any kind of a waste.

And so, Mr Karl, warrior and poet, live long and prosper; and in the light reaches thou shalt become music until the Earth summons you back into Her embrace once more. And we thank you for sharing. •

On Fear: A Message from “The Family”

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Fear is the nursemaid of hate. Fear is the child of understanding only part of the whole picture. Fear is the lover of anger; each feeds the other. Fear, as one of your science fiction writers has stated, is the mind killer. Why, if the multiverse arose from a Void of Love and Light, does fear play a part in physical reality?

Fear is necessary in physical reality because (1) incarnated consciousnesses possess finite brains that find it very difficult to encompass a full understanding of the Greater Self, in whom we are each ever and always safe; (2) because beings with physical bodies need biochemical assistance in order to survive in the everchanging reality of hardedged spacetime; and (3) because physical reality is a young reality that is still learning about itself. This is how we see it.

Mr Rand’s fears are always the same: fear of falling down a bottomless well, in the dark, where no cries can be heard and where no love penetrates, forever and ever. This translates into such lesser fears as fear of poverty, fear of low status, fear of abuse, fear of humiliation, fear of death. But in fact Mr Rand’s fears boil down to fear of abandonment by the Divine Lover of souls.

 

The fact that such abandonment cannot and will not ever happen to Mr Rand is beside the point. The physical brain lays down channels of information processing as it ages, and Mr Rand’s fear channels are well laid down. To balance such learned fear, it is useful to begin laying down new neural pathways of trust and love. And this is best done through a combination of meditation, emotional expression, and physical action.

By meditation we do not necessarily mean formal meditation as practiced in various of your religions, although all such practices have merit in reducing fear. Meditation can be as simple a practice as sitting in the chair and feeling the sunshine warm your skin while you sing a lovely song to yourself. Or lying on the soil and feeling it beneath your feet and hands and knees; smelling it; hugging the earth and imagining yourself as an infant lying upon the chest of your loving parent. Meditation is any practice that takes you out of your focus upon past or future, for that is what fear is: expectations of pain born from past experience, or expectations of pain born from the fears of those around you.

Talking to oneself can also reduce fear. Saying, “I accept that this is how I feel at this moment,” and focusing upon the fear, gently softening around the fear (rather than distracting yourself from the fear through food, television, alcohol, and such diversions) so that it begins to recede. Saying to oneself, “Today I have food, clothing, a place to shelter from the elements, friends, and a sweet black cat named Urdwill” can help bring one’s attention back into the present, where it belongs.

This is not to say that planning for the future is bad. Fear can be a sign that your bodymind knows there are repercussions about to be experienced by you as a result of your failure to plan. But it is important to bear in mind that physical reality always contains within it the element of chance (The Fool in the Tarot deck), and that ultimately no one can control all the events of a life.

So what can one do to live peacefully in a world where pain, sorrow, and grief can exist? One way that is often avoided by Mr Rand is the way of physical consolation. Putting on music, soaking in a bathtub, receiving a massage, asking for a hug, creating beauty through making art or digging in the garden, taking a gentle swim in a public pool until one’s body is pleasantly fatigued—all these actions can help reduce fear, depending upon the forms your fear takes and the surroundings and events that tend to trigger it.

One of the worst aspects of anxiety attacks is the sense that one is completely alone. Yet independence was never the plan for physical reality. Even in the great light reaches, such as the plane of reality we call the plane of light and sound, independence is not possible. The way of creation on all planes is interdependence—asking and receiving; loving and being loved; giving and getting; communicating one’s needs to others until one’s needs are met. Your Jesus said, “Ask and keep on asking and you will receive. Seek and keep on seeking and you will find. Knock and keep on knocking and the door will be opened.” That is how he spoke in the Aramaic of his day, and that is how the Greek writers of the New Testament wrote down his words.

Warnings From the Shadow

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Many years ago a client informed me that I had given her an inaccurate psychic reading. The reason, she said, was that a malevolent extraterrestrial had clouded my perceptions, causing the reading to fail.

Even if one believes, as I do, that psychic abilities and a spiritual reality exist, there are a lot of less dramatic reasons why a psychic might screw up a reading. Wanting to please a client too much is usually mine. But I also have a horror of misleading people, so naturally this phone call disturbed me.

What disturbed me even more was my client’s allegation that invisible aliens can control human minds. This has become a popular doctrine in the New Age community worldwide. ET influence has been offered as an explanation for illness, fatigue, accidents, depression, relationship difficulties and prosperity setbacks. Self-proclaimed ET representatives offer community, identity, excitement, peace and spiritual rescue to those willing to embrace the truth of the UFO underground.

All of this is an uncomfortable mirror of things I was taught when I was a Fundamentalist Christian in the seventies. In those days it was Satan and his demons that I was taught to beware rather than manipulative ETs, and the identity offered me was that of membership in the ranks of those saved by grace from the Last Judgment.

Both doctrines offer the same seduction. Both view the world “out there” as essentially malignant, and view the world inside us as invaded by evil. Both doctrines offer me the promise that someone outside myself can heal me, whether it be a Messiah or a “de-corder” removing my “ET implants.” Both doctrines promise to save me from the pain of being merely human by giving me a new, cleaner, more spiritual, higher identity as one of the reborn or one of the starborn. And both doctrines relieve me of the responsibility for facing the rage and sadness rooted in my childhood which, unreleased and unresolved, is the true cause of my dysfunctions.

It’s all reminiscent of what sociologists call millennial fever. We are still in the first years of the new millennium. A thousand years ago in Europe, on the eve of the year 1001 in the Christian calendar, paranoid doctrines increasingly proliferated. In those days, the invisible enemies were considered Jews, heretics, and demons. Jews, it was alleged, went about poisoning wells at night; heretics sought to seduce the theologically uneducated; demons crouched on one’s bed under the moon and tempted the flesh to rebel against the Creator. The world, the preachers back then said, was coming to an end. Evidence for this was the rebelliousness of youth and society’s increasing immorality, ecclesiastic corruption, and the proliferation of war, disease, and natural disaster. Watch the skies, people were told, for the Lord would soon appear in His glory to rescue the world from End Time horrors.

Now it is polluters, feminists, gay people, pro-choicers, immigrant “entitlement-takers”, crack dealers and bad ETs we are taught to fear in the night. Now it is good ETs we are taught to search the sky for. But both doctrines are fueled by the same unconscious, unresolved traumas.

Maybe it’s because I am an incest and PTSD survivor in recovery that I resist so strongly the notion that invisible ETs can take over my mind. But I don’t think so. I stand by the truth that intuition, reason, and emotional experience have proven to me: that it is I who cast the shadows that seem to pursue me.