Thursday, February 18, 2021

Grandpa Called Star People Our Ancestors, “They Meant Us No Harm”

Richard Wagamese, a Native American storytellers from the Wabaseemoong First Nation in Northwestern Ontario, writes, “My people tell of Star People who came to us many generations ago. The Star People brought spiritual teachings and stories and maps of the cosmos and they offered these freely. They were kind, loving and set a great example. When they left us, my people say there was a loneliness like no other.” 

Stephane Wuttunee, a Plains Cree and French Canadian author and storyteller, notes that when it comes to understanding the extraterrestrial phenomena, Native American culture gives far greater attention to the seeking of the spiritual understanding of things. Growing up, Wuttunee learned about the Star People around campfires and during traditional ceremonies. They were never a people to be afraid of.

• Dr. Ardy Clarke, a Cherokee/Choctaw and Professor Emeritus at Montana State University, also grew up being told about the Star People from her family and elders. She has written multiple books entitled: Encounters With Star People, Untold Stories of American Indians documenting stories of encounters between extraterrestrials and Native American Indians.

• Clarke tells of a man named Darren who tells the story of his grandfather who, in the 1940s, witnessed a spacecraft landing in New Mexico around the same time as the Roswell crashes. His grandfather and some of his friends came across an alien wandering the desert. They hid the alien from government soldiers. The alien died and they buried him.

• Darren says that when he was young, he saw an alien come to his grandfather’s hogan, or house. Darren didn’t recognize the being as an extraterrestrial, but told his grandfather that there was a stranger outside. The stranger was tall with dark skin and dark eyes. His clothes were brown and form fitting. He had on a strange pair of boots with pointed toes. He wore gloves and a tight elastic hood over his head. The stranger told his grandfather that he was part of a ‘small exploring party’, and had gotten lost when his geo-positioning equipment had quit working. So Darren and his grandfather took the stranger into the canyon and back to his craft on the other side of the ridge.

• After that encounter, whenever Darren’s grandfather told stories he would begin with ‘it happened before the Star Man’ or ‘after the Star Man.’ My grandfather said that when he was a boy there were many stories about Star People, but this encounter had been only the second time he had ever seen one. He mostly talked about how they were ‘our ancestors’ who had visited Earth from the beginning of time. They were friendly and meant us no harm. “They come to remind us to keep everything in harmony”, his grandfather told him. The Star people also brought animals and plants to earth, and would come back and check on them.

• Darren described the space craft as dull silver in color, with no windows and a door that melded with the craft when closed. Darren was warned not to touch the craft. When Darren and his grandfather got to the craft other extraterrestrial men came out to greet them as friends. The Star Men bowed to his grandfather, and they stood there and talked. When the beings boarded their craft, Darren and his grandfather stood at a distance while the craft moved upward. Amazingly, it didn’t even stir the dust on the ground below.

• Darren said that the Star Man appeared two more times when he was much older. The second time, his grandfather gave the Star Man a gift of a pouch with turquoise stones which pleased the being. The final time he came, his grandfather was in his 80s and sick in bed. Late at night, the Star Man appeared suddenly without warning. He walked over to my grandfather’s bed and knelt over him. After a moment or two, he walked out. His grandfather told him that the Star Man came to say they were waiting for him. Three days later, Darren’s grandfather died at the town clinic.

• Just hours before he passed, his grandfather told Darren that the Star Men would be coming for him. After his grandfather’s passing, Darren would often work in the workshop behind his grandfather’s hogan. Recently, Darren arrived at the hogan to find the pouch with the turquois rocks sitting in the doorway. “I think it was my grandfather’s way of letting me know that everything was okay with him,” says Darren. “I have no other explanation.”

Richard Wagamese, who was one of Canada’ foremost authors and storytellers from the Wabaseemoong First Nation in Northwestern Ontario, once wrote, “My people tell of Star People who came to us many generations ago. The Star People brought spiritual teachings and stories and maps of the cosmos and they offered these freely. They were kind, loving and set a great example. When they left us, my people say there was a loneliness like no other.”

Another example from Canada comes from Stephane Wuttunee, who is a Plains Cree and French Canadian author and storyteller. He has explained that his perception and understanding of the ET phenomena as a Native person and its global implications comes from having been partially raised within the culture itself. He has made it a clear point to mention that they “give far greater attention to the seeking of the spiritual understanding of things.” He heard about “distant relations and Star People living amongst the stars many times, mainly around campfires and during traditional ceremonies. Far from being anything to be feared, Star People was just another term I grew up around.”

Stories of the Star People are well documented in Native Canadian and Native American lore, and in this article I will share a story, as I’ve done so many times before, from the work of Dr. Ardy Clarke, a Professor Emeritus at Montana State University who is Cherokee/Choctaw. She has been researching the Star People and collecting encounters between them and Native Indians for many years. She also grew up being told about the Star People from her family and elders.

She’s written multiple books documenting her research. This particular one is taken from her book, “Encounters With Star People, Untold Stories of American Indians.”

The Story: In this particular story, Clarke spoke to a man connected through a mutual friend, on the Navajo Indian Reservation, named Darren. Clarke spoke to his aunt, who was the one who told her of his extraterrestrial experience.

I am not the first in my family to see the Sky Gods. My grandfather told me that one time a spacecraft landed over in New Mexico and some Indians hid an alien.”
Said Darren.

He said it happened “Back in the 40s. It was about the same time as Roswell.”

My grandfather said that he and some of his friends came upon the alien wandering in the desert. They realized he was one of the Sky Gods and they hid him from the government soldiers. He died though and they buried him.


Saturday, February 13, 2021

'The New Normal' Documentary

Amazing but frightening documentary that investigates The Fourth Industrial Revolution, what the 1% has to gain and the rest of us are about to lose.

The filmmakers have a website They hosted the documentary on Vimeo (another censoring platform) but it has been taken down.

Download 'The New Normal' documentary:

Saturday, January 9, 2021

Self-Inflicted Shamanism – Choosing the Path Least Traveled

“Paying all due respect to the world’s shamanic traditions, we shall not refer to them any longer but instead explore our own position in relation to the time and place we live in as modern shamans.” ~Antero Alli

Traditionally, shamanism is not a choice. You don’t choose the shamanic path; the shamanic path chooses you. This is because existential thresholds must be passed. A Dark Night of the Soul (or two, or three, or four…) must be overcome. An initiation from an ego-centric to a soul-centric perspective must be achieved. Besides these grueling steps, much pain must be self-actualized and transformed into healing energy (medicine).

But, there is a way to choose the shamanic path despite oneself: self-inflicted shamanism. I say “despite oneself” because one must either be crazy, masochistic, extremely introverted, or all three, to want to choose such an arduously Promethean undertaking. As Nietzsche infamously stated, “He who delights in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.” The self-inflicted shaman goes one step further, responding with this: “Nay. He is both, a beast and a god.”

It is important to understand that shamanism is a sacrifice of independence into the fierce jaws of interdependence. It’s a surrender to the cosmic overwhelm, a giving into solitude and meditation wherein one is annihilated and then put back together again (by Universal Law itself) into a healthy and healing force of nature.

If, as Joe Lewels proposed, “we need shamans, and if society doesn’t provide them, the universe will,” then the self-inflicted shaman takes on both the role of the universe and society, emphatically becoming a force of nature, in order to provide the art of shamanism to an otherwise shamanless world.

As Terence McKenna said:

“It is of the first order of importance to remember this, that the shaman is more than merely a sick man, or a madman; he is a sick man who has healed himself, who is cured, and who must shamanize in order to remain cured.”

As such, a person inflicting themselves with shamanism does so in order to remain cured. They purposely enter into sacred wounds in order to remain healed. They deliberately seek out insane realms in order to remain sane. They knowingly shamanize in order to self-actualize.

A self-inflicted shaman inflicts shamanism upon himself. He dives into the abyss. He jumps into the fire. His leap of courage tantamount to foolishness. Only in hindsight can he see how there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. If he should survive being annihilated, if he should survive becoming ashes, he will have gained a dangerous prestige, a humor of the most-high, and the famed Philosopher’s Stone, which is a metaphorical artifact of existential alchemy without equal.

A self-inflicted shaman lies prostrate at the feet of the universe, a deep wound, a broken heart, a pulsing vulnerability. She sits at the feet of the cosmos in full disclosure. Everything becomes her teacher. Her secret is in dangerously stretching comfort zones and risking the slings and arrows of vicissitude in order to self-overcome for the benefit of the human tribe.

Self-inflicted shamanism is not for the faint of heart. It’s a complete surrender to universal interconnectedness, where the independent ego becomes an interdependent tool for soul-craft. It’s the absolute willingness to become an instrument of Infinity. It’s the renunciation of innocence and the sacrifice of blissful ignorance to painful knowledge. It’s the utter release of the conditional for the unconditional, of attachment for nonattachment. Black and white blurs into middle gray. The sacred and the profane are smeared out into Rumi’s field, beyond wrongdoing and rightdoing, beyond good and evil.

What remains is a vehicle for transporting transformation, a vessel for the dissemination of mercurial change. The self-inflicted shaman is a dynamism of self-overcoming, overcoming the outdated self in order to discover the updated self, overcoming the ordinary world in order to discover extraordinary worlds. The orthodox is trumped by the unorthodox.

The self-inflicted shaman inflicts herself with astonishment. She is stricken by wonder, afflicted by impermanence, and wracked by the death-rattle of a life well-lived. She is terribly overthrown and deliciously overwhelmed. As Diane Ackerman said, “Knee-deep in the cosmic overwhelm, I’m stricken by the ricochet wonder of it all: the plain everythingness of everything, in cahoots with the everythingness of everything else.”

After the cosmic overwhelm, after the surrender to otherworldliness, after the delivery of transformation, the self-inflicted shaman emerges with a mystery-of-the-most-high, a magic elixir, a mythical experience. And now the single task of shamanism in general, and the raison d’etre of becoming a self-inflicted shaman, is the delivery of this sacred knowledge into the hearts and hearths of the human tribe.

In the end, it is what we do with our powers that makes or breaks our self-inflicted shamanism. Do our powers coincide with the universal order of things? Are they moderate, holistic, and nonviolent? Are they flexible, healthy, and robust? For as Antero Alli surmised, “The real test to our shamanic tendencies is not in our ability to enter into the mythical but in how we return to our humanity and what we do with our powers.”

Read more articles by Gary ‘Z’ McGee.

About the Author

Gary ‘Z’ McGee, a former Navy Intelligence Specialist turned philosopher, is the author of Birthday Suit of God and The Looking Glass Man. His works are inspired by the great philosophers of the ages and his wide awake view of the modern world.

This article (Self-Inflicted Shamanism – Choosing the Path Least Traveled) was originally created and published by Waking Times and is printed here under a Creative Commons license with attribution to Gary ‘Z’ McGee and