Aliens in the desert

I arrive in the Sonoran desert at the beginning of November, apparently one of the coolest months but I’m not feeling it. It’s roasting hot, a genuine desert with occasional clouds and clear skies. The heat starts early and builds throughout the day, the afternoon sun is one you don’t stand in for long. As we arrive at the closest village, a village made of adobe mud bricks and one sandy road running its full length, we begin our trek to camp 3 miles away. The desert is barren apart from thorny shrubs that stand about 12-15 inches high and not that tall trees dotted around maybe one every mile or so.

We enter the camp and make ourselves at home in our adobe domes, our home for the next month. We are here for a shamanic retreat and it’s about to change my life.

There’s something great about this place because as I enter the energy, the feeling, the dream I expect unexpected things. I enter into dreaming awake so easily, every time I close my eyes I see geometric shapes that have colour, everyday objects such as trees and mountains, I’m doing this with what seems like no effort on my part and I love it.

In one week I meet aliens 3 times in very different ways, first time I wake up in a dream where the metal footsteps make me go lucid. I’m walking along a metal gangway on a spaceship and I see a group of 3 people and as I approach I believe I recognise one and shake his hand,’ Captain Kirk?’ I say, he replies ‘Adimaral Kirk’ and shakes my hand. He does it with such force and clarity, an unbending intent that seems to be a regular feature of otherworldly beings.

We release hands and I go to clap my hands but they never touch, at that moment I’m propelled into a dark back drop with thousands if not millions of aware dots of light, one consciousness made up of individually conscious beings. I stay for a moment in the never ending scene then I am back in my adobe dome, back in terra firma.