“The simple truth is now approaching overwhelming acceptance in the physics community: the shape of ancient Gods and their bodies is rather well described in the way plasma bodies form among stars. For example the film “Thunderbolts of the Gods” describes how interstellar plasma bodies and dynamics literally fit the description of God in many traditions. Try a google search on “plasma universe” – you will see pretty much no scientist today would deny that plasma has a body, and that spiritual ideas about divine Gods pointed rather well to living and apparently self organizing (self aware?) plasma fields the scale of stars.” (Source)
Astrology ? That would make a lot of sense. Stars and entire star systems as conscious influences on mankind. The Pleiades ? The “Pleiadians” often appear in channellings. Ignored and even derided in some quarters, such channellings remain extremely compelling. Just contents from the subconscious ? But what is the subconscious ? Pleiadians as star system consciousness, or are the channellings from inhabitants of surrounding planets ? Or both ?
Chaco Canyon ? The Maya ? Were they in communion with these galactic intelligences ? The large conscious structure of the Universe ? Star Trek brushes past some of these possibilities – some would say we are well versed in the actualities of talking to stars (angels) … hence Dan’s page.
But here there is also danger. In our sexually repressed times (Reich) parts of the New Age have cornered the market for New Age Mysticism. I’ve done it all myself (pre-2006). Tripping and blissing out on rarefied forms of the New Age that now appear incredibly abstract in the face of Winter’s and other’s teachings that know the physical actuality of these things. The mind goes into a shock. That place separated from the world where it could retreat to, to indulge private fantasies, is revealed as the little island that it really is. Winter’s ship is moored in the bay of this island beckoning me aboard.
But, sadly, something wants to stay separate on it’s little island. No where man in his nowhere land. Somehow safe and resigned from life’s pains and joys. But something does not make sense. The sanctuary was never really safe at all but allowed the bad things to happen. Being separated from the Universe meant that the cosmic forces could never really fully intervene to help. The forces were always “voices” distant and echoey. Providing a snack here and a snack there, but a full meal was never devoured. The sustenance was never fully digested and the growth never thrown into action. It seems I’m being offered a second chance. I was cruelly barred from entering the ship many years ago. It was not my decision. Now I have to listen and listen hard.