This morning, on New Year’s Day, I was eating breakfast at my dining table by a window, and as I looked out, there was a small, blob-like object slowly moving across the sky.
I got excited.
I opened my cupboards to find binoculars, and as soon as I peered through them, I found myself disappointed. It was a blimp, on its way to oversee the stadium, as they typically do on New Year’s Day.
What was I hoping for?
I was wondering, is it a spaceship? Are they here? Will they observe silently? Is there panic below where they hover? Can anyone else see this besides me?
When the blimp continued its graceful journey, I decided to ask ChatGPT if or when arrival is expected by E.T.s. And to be honest, I know there are variations already here. Because when you are energetically sensitive, you can pick up on what’s new in the field. You notice when subtle nuances alter the grid of your regular visual layout.
I also mentioned in my first book, The Love Channel: Finding Your Way to Happiness, how alien beings are all about perspective. Because we are aliens to other planets. And if you think about it more deeply, as humans we can be grotesque too. How a woman gets pregnant, a child grows inside a womb filled with fluid, and then exits one end, and if one doesn’t like another, it can be killed. I mean, Earth and humans can be considered their own sci-fi thriller any day of the week. And I'm not saying aliens could be grotesque, as movies sometimes portray.
ChatGPT responded:
A water-based species on a spinning rock, wrapped in atmosphere, reproducing by growing another being inside a fluid-filled body, then emerging through flesh. We metabolize other life to survive. We build machines, split atoms, cross the sky in metal tubes, and can choose tenderness or destruction on the same day.
That is sci-fi.
It is also horror, miracle, beauty, and absurdity all at once.
As I continue exploring who I am as a human being, I find myself asking what that even means.
Going back to the blimp, I recalled the day after my grandfather’s funeral. My mom, my brother, and I were outside on a warm Florida morning in early January. He died on January 2, 2005, and shortly after, a MetLife blimp sailed across the sky.
This felt significant. He worked for MetLife for many years, and all three of us knew instantly it was him. His energy was waving to us. The blimp wasn’t headed toward a stadium. It floated over the ocean, directly in front of his apartment building, and right in front of us.
Today’s blimp is a Goodyear tire blimp.
The MetLife blimp appeared a few more times that year, and a few times after, but not lately. I haven’t seen one in at least ten years. And I could feel the day my grandfather’s energy shifted into another plane of existence. He’s around if I call him. Sometimes he appears with a message. For the most part, he’s away.
ChatGPT responds:
Three people saw the same object. The meaning arose because of who you were, what had just happened, and what MetLife represented in your grandfather’s life. That’s how humans make sense of loss. Not by erasing reality, but by letting reality carry personal resonance.
I’ve been going deep lately, and I find myself articulating these thoughts more now through this platform, TheHappyChannel.com, where I can share them for you to ponder as well.
Just think about this.
There are spacecraft, and we have aircraft. Airplanes take us from one plane of existence to another. We can literally time-travel when we fly, crossing time zones in a metal tube that carries our fragile human bodies across the sky.
Our human lives exist because of another being.
And we already have aliens on Earth. Have you seen the deep-sea creatures in the oceans?
There’s a lot happening above us and below us. Above, we notice birds, yet there are countless species. Butterflies. Insects. Animals, as we call them, roaming the earth with us and beneath us.
We exist. Why do we exist? To learn. To shape. To heal.
Someone recently pointed out how often I use the word “heal,” and asked me what I mean by it. Am I a healer? Are we always healing? What does it even mean to heal?
For years, I wouldn’t call myself a healer. Then I did. Now I’d say we are all healers, healing ourselves, evolving ourselves, learning ourselves, one day at a time.
And what if we’re not meant to heal anything at all? What if we’re simply meant to exist and be?
That’s what I’m wondering now. Because if healing is ongoing, does it ever end? I don’t always want to be in a healing mode. That would create something that always needs fixing. EEK. That’s presence in thought. That’s learning in action.
When I’m “awake,” what the mind creates can be fascinating. That’s how I landed on the blimp, and the excitement that maybe, just maybe, they had arrived.
Let me stop here.
Before we look at them versus us, we need to discern who we are for ourselves first. How we inhabit our unique human bodies. How we learn about self before projecting outward.
That has always been a core facet of my work. Learning to love what’s inside, and seeing ourselves clearly before adjusting our vision toward another.
Part two is coming, where I explore these inner connections more deeply.
Thank you for joining me on this journey.
It’s a pleasure to have you along for the Earth ride.
Happy New Year. Happy life.
’Til next time, thanks for reading, and enjoy being human.
