Tuesday, December 14, 2010
December 10, 1935
I visited Gjoa Haven in Nunavut, and I spoke with an elder of the Inuit tribe. My tour guide was with me and he served as the translator during my conversation with the old man. Below is the account of what the Inuk elder told me.
Let me tell you a story that happened on one of my trips across the glaciers where I found the best spot to view the “dancing spirits”. They’re called the 'Aurora Borealis' by those who live far from these icy lands.
I live among the tribe, and it is one of our customs to breathe the spirit of the skies into one's heart and mind. As such, one has to smoke the 'conjurer' at the moment when the ‘dancing spirits’ begin to light up the skies.
The ‘conjurer’ is said to be the best kind as it is grown and harvested from the land of the ‘green weeds’ due south from here. I carefully prepared the dried leaves as the sun went down. And as the ‘spirits’ started to appear in faint wisps of green, orange and blue, I began my ritual.
I sat down cross-legged, lighted the ‘conjurer’, sang the prayers to the 'sky spirits', and then closed my eyes as I inhaled deeply to welcome the spirits.
I gently exhaled and then opened my eyes to watch the swirling smoke rise up to the beautiful sight of the ‘dancing spirits’--those gentle streams of luminous light, waving and flowing, hypnotic and psychedelic.
Then suddenly, I felt a strange 'being' hovering beside me, around me, above me. I can hear his voice within my head. He seems to use words from my mind to tell of his visits to other worlds. He tells me that he belongs to an ancient tribe from another star that have mastered the ways of travelling far unto other planets.
He tells me that he is here, on this night alone, to watch the 'dancing lights'; he chanced upon me on this spot where I sit, that has the best view of the spirits dancing across the skies.
Watching the ‘dance of the spirits’ is his ritual too, he says. He studies them, but he goes far, unto different planets to see different ways in which the spirit dances; different colors, different manners, different emotions. On other worlds he says, the ‘spirits’ dance angrily and violently, and some dance too faintly. But this one he says, is the best one he's ever seen. “It is just right”, he whispers along with the hush of a gentle breeze.
I have a wonderful world, he tells me. And my simple life, he wishes he had--a pure bliss of innocence in oneness with the planet upon which everyone is a visitor.
As the dancing spirits intensified in hue, color, and movement, the voice fell silent. I continued to smoke and gaze at the ‘dancing spirits’. I knew the ‘worlds-hopper’ was watching silently along with me.
I smiled at the sheer beauty of the dancing spirits for what seemed like an eternity.
As the ‘dancing spirits’ started to wane, he bid me farewell, and thanked me. Adding that he rarely talks with the 'locals'--the planetary locals, that is.
The 'conjurer' helped, he tells me (I see him giggle in my mind’s eye as he says so) for it gives him assurance that no one will believe me if I tell anyone about this encounter.
In Context: Exoplanetary Bow Shocks