The Dark Night of Soul

Lately I've been thinking about my alien abduction. I see your grimace. More correctly, I understand it. What happened was this. A year and a half ago, I went to sleep. I dreamed. Somewhere in the middle of the dream, something happened. I found myself in my living room, holding a piece of clothing that I meant to sew. My husband watched TV. My son was in his room.

But something was wrong in this scenario. I walked nervously to and fro, kitchen to living room, and back. I peered cautiously out of the window blinds, as if I was expecting something terrible to happen.

It did. Something told me to go check on my son. As I rounded the corner hall, I was shocked into a standstill. There sitting in a chair blocking my way was an elderly 'woman.' Instantly I knew that this human, wasn't, and I tried desperately to run. Just as quickly, the 'woman' morphed into a tall, large-headed, black-bug-eyed, silver-suited alien. It came after me and stunned me into helplessness with a stun wand. I noticed that my husband had stopped watching TV and was curled up asleep on a bed. Just before I lapsed into unconsciousness, I saw another alien materialize and take my husband in his sleep.

When I awakened, I was in terror. My husband had awakened moments before me somehow sensing that something was wrong. I was virtually motionless. And he had to check to see if I was still breathing.

I tried to tell my story but I kept lasping into hysterics. For most of the day I cried, paralyzed by a fear that I had never before known. A nightmare you say? Perhaps. But nothing like this had happened in 40 years of dreaming and having nightmares. Hallucination? Well...I'm not qualified to make that judgment, but it doesn't seem to fit the evidence of my experience. I call this an Alien Abduction because that is exactly what it is to me: I was taken to a place foreign to my understanding.

There is one clue, however, that may shed some light on this dark story. And that's the 'bed' that my husband slept in in my living room. We have no bed in our living room. But every other facet of detail was clear and precise. Except for that one. Had that piece of furniture not been in the scene, I would not have been able to tell that reality from this one.

Let me say that again. Had that one piece of furniture -- the bed -- been missing from the scene, I could not have been able to distinguish that reality from this one. It was THAT real.

This event did not happen in my physical reality. At least, not in the one that I recognize. Unless the aliens are physically real; unless they are able to wipe clean my husband's memory; unless they are able to direct a scene as if it were a play; Or unless this event took place in an alternate or parallel reality. But like Schroedinger's thought experiment suggested, I only know that the other reality exists if I am experiencing it. When I am no longer 'there,' I don't know if it is.

But beyond the speculation of where this event took place, I also had to consider why it happened. As I said, I had been paralyzed by fear most of the day after the event. By the time the evening rolled around, there was a change in me. A change that was forced upon me. I really had no choice. Sometime that evening I knew that I was going to have to go to sleep all over again and face the same trauma as the night before. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it. It was more than humanly possible.

As petrified as I was of reliving that event, something snapped inside of me. I suddenly started to get mad. Livid, even. A raging fury began to well up inside of me like a volcano ready to erupt. It was very new to experience this level of rage. But it gave me something. It replaced in me a piece that had long since been lost to the confines of memory.

It gave me back my power.

Suddenly, I was filled with a fury that can only happen when one is totally victimized by an event. In my rage, I walked the floor all night, hoping that the alien interlopers would return. I wanted them to. I wanted the opportunity to actualize this newfound power that I had discovered in myself. I wanted to be able to stop them.

The aliens did not return that night, and have not returned in anyway that even resembles this experience. But I got to keep the power that I discovered during that dark and lonely time. And I think that is why the whole thing happened. Though I don't understand the why's and wherefore's in detail, I can say that being scared very nearly to death has its advantages. I am able to lay down and have a peaceful night's sleep. Had I not found my power, I would not have ever been able to again.

So I believe this experience happened to me because I am in growth. The path of growth demands that consciousness be expanded to accept more of the unseen and unknown worlds realities that exit simulatenously with our own. It also requires that we go looking into the depths of our Soul to re-discover the treasures that we have buried there.

In Joseph Campbell's THE POWER OF MYTH, he quotes an ancient Roman who said, "The fates lead (one) who will; (one) who won't they drag."


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