Hello again everyone. I’ve got a bit of an unusual one for you this time. A couple of family members are staying with me at the moment, and one of them has been having some interesting experiences during the night. In the doorway of the guestroom, specifically.

Doorways are interesting things – they represent a transition from one space to another. And not just in ordinary reality. They metaphorically also create a transitional space between our physical reality and other non-physical realities.

Maybe that’s why closet doors are so spooky.

My family member (who readily agreed that this should be my latest blog post) has been having some interesting experiences for a while now, but they’ve gone up a notch here in my house. It started with seeing a ball of light moving around the doorway one night, then that light moving around a phantom ‘circuit board’ floating in the door another night.

But the most, shall we say ‘exciting’ incident was the night they saw a 5 foot tall figure in a red spacesuit standing in the door, holding a glowing light in one hand and reaching out towards them with the other. I asked if they’ve seen anything since, and just got the reply, “I’m not opening my eyes now.” 😂

So, I went on a journey to find out what was happening. Here’s what I learned.

As I set my intent to learn more about my family member’s recent experiences, I found myself being lowered into the earth on a rickety metal platform suspended by two iron-link chains. I descended for quite a long time, with virtually no light in the tunnel around me. Just a faint blue glow from the surrounding stones.

After what seemed like forever, a small alcove appeared ahead of me, so I stepped off the still-descending metal platform and peered into the darkness ahead of me. I could see something in a crack in the wall at the back of the alcove, so leaned forward for a better look…

…and jumped as I saw a massive eye looking back at me! I mean, this thing was huge! Bigger than my 6’4″ frame. And it was like the bright blue iris was made of crystal.

The eye swiveled away from me, and I had the sense I was supposed to keep going further down the tunnel I’d been descending a moment before. Turning back, I saw the metal platform was long gone. Never an elevator when you need one.

Which is when the rocky floor of the alcove gave way below me. I found myself falling into a smooth rocky tube, with just a trickle of water flowing along the walls. Think waterslide. With an 85-degree drop. And a few loops. Good thing I hadn’t had breakfast yet!

After a thankfully short trip, I was flung out into the bottom of the main tunnel, splashing into dark, murky water. A gentle current pulled me out of the tunnel and into another, larger chamber.

A chamber filled with a giant foot.

Crawling up out of the water onto the shore in front of the massive foot, I looked up, and up, and up… my eyes taking in the shadowy form of a humanoid form well over 100 feet tall. The only discernable feature up at the top was, you guessed it, the giant eye I’d seen earlier.

“Uh, hello!” I called out as I waved up at the giant.

“Hmmm,” it rumbled back down at me. More of an acknowledgement than a question. “I am The Being,” it said after a moment.

“Right, okay, that doesn’t explain as much as you might think,” I replied, confused. But I pressed on. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the experiences my family member has been having lately?”

The Being let out a low, rumbling laugh, then said, “I see many things.”

Fair. Slightly creepy, but fair.

And then a rectangular doorway just appeared in the ground beside The Being’s foot, dull blue light spilling out of it.

“You will find your answers here,” The Being explained.

Not needing to be told twice, I walked through the door and into a pitch-black darkness. Summoning radiant light into my left-hand as a make-shift lamp, I saw I was in a narrow tunnel. But this one was different. There were cobwebs everywhere, and I could see… yep, skeletons in rectangular alcoves lining the walls. It seriously looked like a set from an Indiana Jones movie.

I swear, I spent more time in this journey just wandering (or sliding) through tunnels than any other. It definitely left the impression of having wandered far from our ordinary reality.

After a few minutes, I came out of the maze of tunnels and saw a square reflecting pool about 20 feet across, with four Egyptian columns at the corners. The interesting part was how it was floating in blackness, just connected by a thin bridge to the end of the tunnel I was standing in.

As I walked across the thin bridge, I noticed an old man crouching by one of the columns. It seems he heard me too, because he called out with a thin, wispy voice, “Yes, yes, come!”

I realized it wasn’t just his voice that was wispy as I approached him. He had long, wispy white hair and a wispy white beard. And his thin body barely filled the dirt and dust covered overalls he was wearing.

Sitting down beside him, I leaned back against the column and just observed him for a moment. Maybe it was the surroundings, and the fact he was fidgeting with some tools on the floor, but he sure looked like a crazy old archeologist.

Then he pulled up, still crouched, and showed me an earthworm that he was holding in a set of tweezers.

“Yes, yes, you see there? Yes, very interesting,” he said, rushing through the words. It’s like he half-knew I was there, but was so distracted with his work that he was talking to himself as much as to me.

“Um, yes, that’s very interesting,” I said, watching the earthworm wriggle. “Who are you?”

“Me, me,” he muttered as he started patting his overalls with his other hand, evidently looking for something in one of his pockets. “I’m the Collector.”

The Collector. And The Being. Lovely. With clarity like that, I can almost retire and let this shamanic stuff take care of itself.

“I was told you might know what it is that my family member has been experiencing lately.”

“What?” he said, looking vaguely in my direction and holding up the earthworm again. “Oh yes, yes, yes, I can do that.”

And then he started pulling the earthworm towards him, and I had this momentary fear he was going to eat it. But he seemed to pick up on that and smiled as he pulled a glass vial out of one pocket and carefully tucked the earthworm into it. “Oh, don’t worry, don’t worry, I collect things. Nothing to fear.”

“So, about these ‘visitation’s my family member has had lately,” I reminded him. “Who are these spirit entities?”

The Collector looked at me directly for the first time, his watery old eyes giving me a piercing stare. With a smile that seemed to dare me, he asked very clearly, “Are you sure you want to know?”

My instinct said today wasn’t the day to go down that particular road. And I trust my instincts.

“Okay then, can you tell me what they want?” I asked, both curious and feeling a little protective.

“Oh, yes, yes. They are curious. Yes, curious,” he responded, back to his rambling, half-aware behaviour. “This person is new to them. They want to see how this person will react. It’s an experiment to them. They are very curious. They don’t mean any harm.”

This is when I realized why the Collector had been waving the earthworm around in my face. It was a metaphorical part of the answer. Apparently my family member has attracted the interest of some curious entities. Entities that may see humans much like we see earthworms. Give the earthworm a little poke and see how it responds.

Even if they don’t mean any harm, these evidently aren’t compassionate spirits like my guides. Compassionate spirits don’t experiment on other beings. And, human-to-earthworm… that’s one hell of a gap in power. In short, beings to be cautious around.

“So what can my family member do about these entities?”

“Tell them to stop. Or behave themselves. Or ask the spirit guides to help,” the Collector rattled off quickly as he stood and started walking towards the thin stone bridge I’d crossed a few minutes before. Leaving all of his equipment strewn on the ground in front of me. Absent-minded archeologist much?

I wasn’t sure how much a human would listen to an earthworm, but our intent is a powerful force in reality. And we all have our own spirit guides, whether we know them or not. It’s one of the things I find the most comforting about the universe – we’re never on our own.

I was about to stand and follow the Collector, but suddenly the column gave way behind me and I started falling backwards.

Right into a giant hand.

The Being.

Sprawled out in the palm of it’s hand, I looked up to see the giant crystalline-blue eye looking down at me.

“So, are you one of these entities the Collector mentioned? Experimenting on my family member?”

“Hmmm,” it rumbled. Which I took to mean yes.

“Well, can you tone it down with my family member?” I demanded. “They didn’t seem to mind the glowing lights, but it’s going over the top now.”

The Being was silent for a moment, and then replied, “Not for you to decide.”

And that’s a very good point. Except for a few extenuating circumstances (like when someone isn’t able to make decisions for themselves), it’s not for a shamanic practitioner to decide what other people need. Or don’t need.

But each person has the authority to decide that for themselves. And the Collector had given me a couple of tips to take back to my family member. They can either ask, or demand, these entities behave differently, Or if they give me further direction to intervene on their behalf, I can have a follow-up chat with The Being, or whoever else.

At that moment though, I just nodded in understanding at The Being. Who swung his arm out wide… and dropped me back in my physical body.

He’s polite if nothing else.

Well, that was unexpected. And rather interesting I think. It certainly highlights that we’re far from alone in the universe. It’s also a reminder that, whatever comes our way, we have a degree of agency in our lives.

Ordinary reality is messy, by design I think. But in non-ordinary reality we have the sovereignty to decide how other entities interact with us, and how we respond to them in turn. And we always have the support of compassionate spirits. We just have to ask.

Until next time,

Eric, your shamanic guide… into the unknown.