Ah, synchronicity! Damn you, Carl Jung! Or is that thank you? I'm all corn-fused now. Anyway, here is a link Mikec posted on another thread. It's the same talk Chris posted, but in video form. This is to the first of four parts, which has links to the other three.
Shamanic Approaches to the UFO Pt. 1/4 Video
I had only heard the first few minutes, in fits and starts, before posting my thoughts above. After watching all four parts of the video, I am amused at some of the words, concept, and analogies I used up there. McKenna had used the same ones in the same context long ago. Then Mikec posts a link to the same talk on another thread. Hmm. Something is going on here.
One of many things that struck me in McKenna's talk is the notion that ufo experiences often seem to contain a built-in aspect that makes them unreportable or at least unusable to the researchers who might be interested in them. My own experiences fall into that category. I'll describe that chapter in my life in general terms.
Twenty or more years ago, I decided it was time to let my spiritual quest and experiences simmer while I did something else. Let it brew without constant stirring. I decided it was time to take a serious look at the UFO realm, and maybe get a handle on what it was all about. Like many, many others I naively assumed I could read a few good books on the subject and give it some serious thought, and in a year or so come to my own sensible conclusions about what was going on. Of course I was pulled immediately into the rabbit hole and have yet to find my way out. The book Communion began leering at me in the supermarket checkout aisle. When I got a copy of it from the library, I kept it face down when I wasn't reading it. I read two of Budd Hopkins' books, and started sleeping with the lights on.
Suddenly, in the middle of the summer, I began to have my own weird experiences. I had seen strange things before, but this was my own personal wave and appeared to be anything but random. Each experience was just on the edge of sensible reality. Once I saw a bright light "hovering" above the town I was approaching on the highway. I had no doubt it was something artificial, but there was no way I could report it without sounding like an idiot. I was driving west in the evening, about dusk, so Venus was back there somewhere behind the thick overcast. It wasn't venus, a helicopter, or a balloon but who would believe it? (I went back two nights later when the weather was clear, and venus was quite a ways away from the location of my mystery light and behaved as it should when I drove around the curves in the road leading to the town, unlike my mystery light, and so on.)
The best sighting in this series was on a beautiful summer night in a small city, when a friend and I saw a craft of some sort at close range, at treetop level, slowly and silently cruising past (a block away) with an array of lights that would be impossible for any aircraft I am aware of. We couldn't make out the shape, but there were elements of its appearance that seemed to be intended to disguise the thing as an airliner. A silent airliner 100 feet up, going about 50 mph, and displaying a set of lights that made absolutely no sense. Wow! That was weird. And what were we doing when we saw this thing on a quiet weeknight? Well, we were on our way from one bar to another. Neither of us was anywhere near drunk, but we were in fact bar hopping. Case closed.
This sort of thing went on for weeks, getting more and more "up close and personal" along with scaring the crap out of me a couple of times. Then one day as I pondered the fact that nothing about this batch of experiences added up to anything that made rational sense, it occurred to me that someone or some thing was screwing with me. Just like a human teasing a cat, a form of torment I was guilty of in my youth. The more I thought about that, the more it seemed to fit. That was the end of it. The experiences stopped as suddenly as they started.