D. Edward Mitchell 16:00, 14 April 2020 (UTC) Hello World! groupKOS Developer Share —usually UNDER CONSTRUCTION
An Artificial Orb of Light as a Lens of Sentient Knowing
Interacting with diverse people has added more plausibility over the years to a design that won’t leave me alone. Amateur science slowly distilled from psience fiction — PsiPhi, to psiTech.
Then a neurotic friend that could not disclose memories he smuggled out of Area 51 (per his claim), for fear of repercussion, recovered from a month of coma in a miraculous way, and made himself a prophet.
At eight years of age, while loitering on the goat pen fence, a green orb of light came to him, right into his head, all of a sudden. In that instant the boy knew his destiny. He would build great things and understand ancient secrets, but he could tell no one… until the end.
The boy called me, now forty something. After an off and on paranoia-laced intense shared project interest of several years, he called me without paranoia. He described a coil we could build that was what we had discussed for years but could never talk about. Excitement was tangible.
Returning to the professional office in Sedona, I described my astonishment with a phone call just received, and described a special coil. Stammering for words, the practitioner held my gaze with an intent. The term I choose to describe my old friend’s new shared project was ‘time coil.’
Then there was silence. “I’ve experienced a time coil! In Bolder! I had lost-time events on the way home!” the practitioner burst forth exclaiming, suddenly breaking the silence. Her synchronistical shared experience with what is right up there at the top on the esoteric stuff index, was the peak of the excitement on that project beginning, because the old friend had a cerebral stroke and slipped into coma. But I didn’t know that. Months passed.
The entire family tree of the autistic remote viewer came to the barbeque. “A Yankee is visiting Brian! And they’re talking alien shit! And Brian’s doing really well walking and talking after his coma!”
Everyone was most friendly, raised in proper Pentecostal upbringing. The hub-bub and the social challenge of the geek-meets-real-country-folk kind of evening, had left me tired, intellectually vacant, and staring past the back porch lights into the canopy of huge maple trees. However, even the sister and close family that was with us through this disclosure of secrets of an alien-military project cooperative could hardly fathom the topic. That didn’t spook the family. They knew Brian. We were all there for our own reasons and that was not in question. Compliance.
With a head full of detail on how to establish a standing spherical energy field that communicated directly with mind, and a full tummy of barbequed cow, it was time for some quiet. Brian was sleeping. The crowd was laughing and chatting.
Pondering this and that about the design detail in repose on the back porch, a curiosity of what it felt like to be in the randomized pulse-field of the disclosure device drifted by, and with that curiosity came an inner kind of sense that seemed to say, to myself, “Oh sure. The orb feels like the field felt around that glass energy orb of my vision way back when. Forty nine years back when. The vision! OMG! The disclosure is entangled with my vision orb!
Have you seen one of those performances so stunningly captivating that when it ends, the audience is left stunned, swept away into each their own artistic places? Then a slow motion wave of applause begins from what seems to be a crowd reviving from far away, to swell quickly into a thunderous roar of energy bounding back from the crowd!
But a few moments of catatonic detachment were my last few moments of a former life where answers to mysteries of the universe had remained pipe dreams. As one’s eye will scan a person from foot to head, someone that has come into their social arena, so were the points of similarity scanned by mind’s eye. The vision orb. The disclosed eight foot diameter energy orb that interfaced mind to the sentient universe. I did understand.
Feature for feature a vision orb that scintillated patterns of thought, and energized those around in compliant harmony of calm awe, was what Brian disclosed, and how he build it on a clandestine team, how he first met the alien mind telepathically, how the alien knowledge was assisted decades later on a military budget, how he ‘snuck out’ the project details past neuron-dicing (brain memories destroyed) which trick was taught him by his orb companion he preferred to name Grey, or the orb preferred actually.
After but one short moment of stunned silence of mind, tears began to flow. Breathing halted and I could only gasp between deep sobbing sounds that brought my sudden change of attitude to the attention of the family tree. My soul trembled. Most of the holes in my head were leaking profusely.
It is a precious memory now to remember the calm that a diversity of minds that gathered around brought to my breakthrough-moment. This was the field of compliant awe just as in the vision seven times seven years prior. It seems rooted in compassion. They were all completely in awe when I shared that their cousin, or brother, or grandkid, was a prophet of a sort. That he literally explained to me how to build a vision that only an understanding could recall. They all knew Brian. They all realized there was some really deep connection going on with him. This brought us all to a compliance of understanding that there is some grand operator working in the details of our lives that weave a tapestry among our souls. We shared an awe-filled group reverence for whatever life means. Brian tried his best to help me understand over ten days of disclosure in Southern Missouri where he convalesced. And Brian’s gone now. And this last year has been the beginning of final documentation that surfaces needed details for final assembly of early prototypes. It took eight years to understand what the design may be in working principles. Principles are on test.
How a dog may feel should he catch a car by the tire I may appreciate somewhat more, now. But the story isn’t about me, but about the me you portray of me within you, when you read and mirror in mind these exploits as they are self-understood by you.
This story is unfinished. The inner me in you may see the obvious conclusion that many me-s may not see. Which of life’s cosmic locks might your key match?
How does the story unfold this close to the prototype build of the Hexatron? I’m naturally curious.
My human remains by hope in calm awareness that appreciates life more with a few less regrets.
A compliant concern can only suggest in support of the tapestry of lives the ancient orbs are weaving: Turn your key. We are all here with you — connected from within by the awe for life with open mind.