“This scheme to thrust forward and establish a human control over the destinies of life, and liberate it from its present dangers, uncertainties, and miseries, is offered here as an altogether practicable one, subject only to one qualification—that sufficient men and women will be willing to serve it. That there is no foretelling. It is clear that the whole growth is dependent upon the appearance of those primary groups, sustaining and spreading its fundamental ideas. Those ideas have to become the mental substratum of constructive effort. If those ideas can find sufficient vigorous, able, and devoted people for their establishment, the rest will follow.”
—H.G. Wells, The Open Conspiracy/What Are We to Do with Our Lives?
In the 1970s the little-known researcher Alvin Lawson clearly mapped the parallels between a typical alien abduction experience and a modern hospital birth: a naked, paralyzed human lying on a table, surrounded by strange “masked” entities and poked with strange instruments. It was also Lawson’s research that demonstrated how individuals taken at random, with no memory of being abducted, were able to recreate an abduction experience under hypnosis, one that closely matched the accounts of people who believed they were abductees. The suggestion of this body of evidence was that the alien abduction “experience” was somehow universal—like birth—and/or archetypal.
A few days after I returned to this material in the hope of finally completing the work, and doubtless related, I had a dreaming experience in which I was lying in a bed and unable to move. All around me, I could sense figures moving. I could only see their legs out of the corners of my eyes. I felt intense fear, but I was aware that what I was experiencing was only a tiny fraction of the terror that would assail me, if I let myself become fully conscious of what was happening. The thought occurred to me that if, as had happened for Strieber, I was to realize the beings around me were not even human, it would be more terrifying than I could bear. It was as if I was allowing myself only as much “body terror” as I could comfortably endure without losing my mind. At the time, in the dream state, I guessed that what I was experiencing was maybe 5% of the full body memory.
Later, upon waking, it occurred to me that one likely interpretation of the dream was that I was, through an unconscious reenactment process, reliving my birth, or immediately post-birth, experience and finding out just how much terror was trapped in my body as a memory-affect of that primal event. Alien abductions, then, as a psychic experience at least, may be a way for an individual psyche to re-experience and release (and integrate) that terror and so clear up a space within the body for the psyche to land in. Conversely, perhaps the experience of the psyche landing in the body—which happens incrementally, not all at once—inevitably causes a reactivation of the same terror which first drove it away, into the heavenly realms of dissociation?
A few days later, I picked up Louis Proud’s Dark Intrusions and re-read the descriptions of my own sleep paralysis experience which I had given him for his book. I reproduce them in part below, with emphasis added.
My experiences of sleep paralysis have almost always entailed the irrefutable certainty of a non-human presence in the room.
Since I was never under the impression of there being a fully physical or even visible presence, however, the presence might best be described as a conscious energy field. Not that I ever opened my eyes to look; that was never an option. My bodily reaction to the presence was invariably one of terror and, as such, the last thing I intended to do was try and see the being. It was quite overwhelming enough merely to experience its energy field as a form of “psychic sensation.” I don’t know how else to describe it. I was aware of a consciousness outside of my own, immeasurably more powerful, and focused on me in such a way that it was akin to a kind of psychic assault or “ambush.” The being or presence was not hostile; far from it. It seemed to be interested in me not in any predatory manner but rather almost in a [proprietorial] way, almost as with the attention of a lover, or perhaps a loving but ruthless parent? [Emphasis added]
As I recall I had a series of very similar experiences—I might say “visitations”—during a period of a couple of years when I was in my late 20s. Since I was quite deeply influenced by Strieber’s Communion at that time, I tended to see my experiences in the light of Strieber’s own accounts, and this may have influenced or even distorted my impressions somewhat. I definitely had a sense that the being—if such it was—was “ancient,” wise, and extremely powerful, and essentially benevolent. On at least a couple of occasions, I experienced it as female (I knew nothing of the Old Hag syndrome back then). And although it sounds rather fanciful now, I had a sense more than once that it, she, was “my own soul,” or as close as made no difference. Anima visitation?
There was nothing subjective or vague about the experience; at the time there was no more doubt in my mind that something very real was present than there would be if a burglar had come through the window, wielding a crowbar. Yet as I say, there was nothing visual about the experience, nor was there any sound, smell, or even an ordinary sensation to speak of (i.e., of being touched). Whatever senses were alerted related to consciousness itself, not to the ordinary five bodily senses. And yet, it was above all a bodily sensation that alerted me—what Strieber called “body terror.” Rather than an awareness of the presence causing the terror, however, it was as if my own terror informed me as to the being’s presence. Somehow, my body knew instantly that some unknown form of energy was present, and it reacted with a kind of animal terror. My mind, on the other hand, observed this physiological response with a measure of detachment and, of course, of fascination. I felt something like love emanating from the being, and even felt something similar in myself responding to that love. But there was a seemingly unbridgeable abyss between us—that of our individual physical or energetic configurations. We were quite literally worlds apart.
To read full essay, order Prisoner of Infinity: UFOs, Social Engineering, and the Psychology of Fragmentation