I drew this fish in scuba gear long ago when I read the following quote by the Canadian media master, Marshall McLuhan:
“We don’t know who discovered water, but we know it wasn’t the fish.”
McLuhan’s statement got me thinking about fish and their watery world, and how it relates to what I’ve experienced.
Water permeates everything in a fish’s world. It is above the fish, below the fish, even within the fish. When he is removed from his home, the fish flip-flops around frantically, gasping for air. If he is kept out there too long, he dies.
Which brings us to a question: If something is everywhere, how can you ever really see it? You are blinded by the saturating consistency of your environment.
What if the fish, however, could be taken outside his world and not die, but have a good look around?
That is what happened to me, which will be detailed later in this book. I got removed repeatedly from my world, and was allowed to look back into what I thought was reality. I became a fish out of water, but with awareness. At first, survival was paramount, but when I found I didn’t die, and the experiences continued, I calmed down and looked around at worlds I never thought existed.
This is why, in a humorous way, the fish in the water-filled scuba tanks tied to a helium-filled balloon symbolizes my journey. It has become a personal logo–a visual representation of what happened to me and how I essentially felt.
I personally like fish. I have always found them to be fascinating creatures, perfectly built for their environment. But a fish flying through the air above his watery world isn’t really a fish anymore.
He becomes something else–something new, something different.
Never the same again
I believe a fundamental shift is coming into our existence, and the essence of it is basically what I went through: a force coming to awaken us to the worlds beyond what we think is real. These experiences will demand a deeper logic in order to to deal with them. A logic and an understanding way outside what we’ve applied routinely in the past. I remember being so definite about what was real, and I told people so. But after the outside-my-ocean trips, I could never be that definite again. The worlds I saw were without end, the divine had no defining limits, and the experiences were often beyond words. (That’s probably why I use so many pictures.)
Then, when I went back into my old world, it was never the same. The strange outside trips forever changed me. They transformed how I saw things and reacted to them. All my relationships shifted. People around me hadn’t changed; I had. My intentions and purpose had been altered. I just wasn’t the same person. I saw everything and everybody in a new and different light. My reflection in the mirror, staring back at me, wasn’t the same person either.
I’ve always felt an overwhelming melancholy for the people who surrounded me during that tumultuous period in my life. This stuff didn’t happen to them. It only happened to me. They stayed the same, seeing things the same way, when I didn’t. This caused a division that has never healed.
The rift between the world of my associates and mine increasingly become wider and wider, and they said so: “You need to see a therapist. You need to be in a mental institution. You’re crazy!” I was easily labeled with simple statements that were treated as obvious fact. And the worst: “You’re evil, and we must stay away from you to be safe.”
In my attempts to cope with it all, I lost everything. I went from having a huge family to being shunned. I went from being worth millions to looking at my open hand with a quarter, a dime and two pennies. That was all I had. My circumstances only became compounding evidence that they were right and I wasn’t. In their minds, they were following God’s will, and I was flat-out running in the opposite direction.
But, beings beyond this world gave me a promise that someday in the future I would be of help to them and others.
Many, many times, that promise became only a whisper written on crumpled paper tumbling in an erratic wind. Many times, I’ve though all was lost.
Then one day, the promisers who gave their word so long ago, showed up again and said, “It’s time.” I thought they had forgotten me . . . but they hadn’t.
The long wait is over.
The flying fish is back and telling the rest of the school to get ready to leave the water
This is a partial listing of the titles of some of my stories:
- UFOs in the backyard
- Nine-foot-tall alien guarding the sidewalk
- Secrets in plain sight
- Surface Change/Deep Change
- Echoes from the future
- Ernest’s earnestness
- Some people call them angels, I prefer the name bastards
- Playing a rigged game
- The most destructive element to status quo thinking
- Death Clusters
- Alien mind-sucking parasites have left earth
- Hundreds of people waiting for a UFO landing
- The collapse of belief
- The saddest thing I’ve ever seen
- Into the tangent – a sudden and completely different change in direction
- Love juice and other tricks
- Conspiracy theories I’ve known and loved
- 3 Prophecies, Two Hunches and One Wild-Ass Guess
- Dissolving The Membrane Between Dimensions
- We Are Not Who or What We Think We Are
- Transcending the Impossible
- Games We Play With Ourselves
- Caught between impossibilities
- Looking into the unknowable
- Cigar-shaped thingamajigger
- Lights on the mountain at 30 below zero
- UFO the size of a super Wal-Mart
- I liked you better when you wasn’t trying to be human
- The Big Unraveling – They are going to do it to themselves
- Reverse Amnesia
- How I became an ax murderer
- This hell was cold and infested with giant spiders
- Stuck in an inter-dimensional loop
- Not your typical Sunday sermon
- The end of the great pretending
- Not your typical home invasion
- My black and white world forever gone
- An invisible UFO
- Geometric shapes built from clouds
- Importance in asking just the right question
- Waking up inside what I hoped was only a nightmare
- Meeting an old dead friend
- Yanking me out of my body
- Finding the Secret Sauce
- Energy wells and dead bodies
- Building consensus among the criminally insane
- What the hell is a Merkaba?
- Oddest weather I’ve ever seen
- Sending someone into hysterics isn’t my idea of fun
- Sometimes the only option was a comforting lie
- Alien tour bus
- Contradictionland: where should, could and must work is replaced by never works
- Deceptive voices
- Facades of goodness
- A really stupid conclusion everyone jumps to
- Reading the deeper stories
- Things you wouldn’t think are conscious – are
- Living in liminal space – the transitional space of in-between
- Strange combinations created during transitions
- The really weird stuff: storyline generating fields
- The myth of perfection
- Changing paradigms, shifting dimensions
- Archetypal structures
- Where countries, cultures and corporations are treated as a single individual
- This life is addictive and we are all addicts
- Pattern Reading, Principle Extraction and Underwater Yodeling
- Clown School
- The other route home
- The ultimate choice
- Heard it though the vine
- When God is a weak kneed weenie
- Another place and another time he would have had me killed – and he did
- Removing the entrenched
- Deception drenched experience
- How I inadvertently started a church
- Getting answers I didn’t expect from questions I never asked
- Some would rather run, die, attack or kill than change a defining belief
- Seduction by the clueless
- Flaking out on a future agreement
- Some of us are presently choosing a dead end future
- My absurd connection to 9th century Mexico
- Seeing a multiplicity of expression through either/or eyes
- Crucial indicator: the manipulation of dependency
- Maybe a bullet will take the pain away
- Pulling on strings that never end
- Giving hypocrisy a bad name
- Attention shoppers! – Evil possessions on isle 5
- Multiple pasts and multiple futures focused on now, the pinch point
- Endless parade of leaders all pretending they are not lying
- And so on . . .
All focused towards the following idea said 3 different ways:
1 The game we’ve all been playing is permanently ending, and a completely new one is beginning – a game with different rules and reasons for play.
2 The story we’ve been performing is coming to a close replaced by another story from a completely different script.
3 We will begin to recall a forgotten past and have to assign new meanings to who we are and why we are here.
. . . and I could say it many other ways.
This book is finished.
© 2015 Kurt Hanks