They are not trying to show us what they are.
They are trying to show us what we can handle.
And even more precisely:
The first language of contact is not form.
It is trust.
Common Ground
One recent evening, as I was getting ready for bed, I became aware that “the others” were present. The message was clear, but calm. No urgency. No alarm. Just awareness.
I was given a telepathic alert to their presence, told to focus on the corner of the room. “In the corner. The closet.”
(To be more accurate, and not the word they chose, the “closet” is a wardrobe. I understood the intent.)
As suggested, I looked toward that space. That’s when my perception changed. Instead of seeing something physical, something defined, I saw an overlay. The space was filled with a pattern, geometric, familiar, and, in the initial viewing, completely baffling.
What I was looking at, suspended in midair, expanding and contracting almost like a balloon, resembled the screen image of a Mahjong game I had been playing just a few minutes earlier.
Trying to reconcile the imagery and the message “they are here” was a bit challenging. But the image was so familiar I recognized it instantly. And that’s what mattered. Because whatever was present was trying to show itself in a way that wouldn’t overwhelm me.
In previous contact encounters, I have been told a visual would be too frightening, and they have purposely avoided visuals. What has also been implied is their state of being. I have been told they do not inhabit a corporeal form, and that the form they do have, or have adapted to, would be perceived as threatening.
I objected and was given a demonstration of our auto-pilot fear response to illustrate their point. Even if we might have agreed to disagree, this seems to be their attempt to find a middle ground. So, this, to the best of my knowing, is a first-time attempt at giving me an image to represent their presence.
As such, I was presented with something already in my visual memory — something neutral, recent, and non-threatening — as a kind of interface.
At the same time, there was movement. Not like an object. Movement like breath. The space the image occupied seemed to expand and contract rhythmically, like something was pressing forward into perception, then easing back again. It seemed to come closer to me and then retract.
I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. It wasn’t solid. It was a design, shapes, symbols, and form, not a figure. But it fully occupied that corner of the room and obscured the closet/wardrobe. It had presence.
I was so overwhelmed by the experience that it made me tired. Thinking about how whatever I am engaging with is already in contact with my mind, and has the ability to present me with images I have viewed, it can see through my eyes. I needed to disengage from that contact to reconcile the information. I’m still working on that.
What I am (and have been encountering for decades) interfacing with is attuned to us in ways we cannot fathom. And I suspect the intention is to help us expand our awareness to be able to interact on a conscious level. At least that is how I view it, and what the ongoing exercises in reality modulation and shifting seem to imply.
The intelligence — plural or singular, I have no way of knowing, except that it has indicated an ability to access others when trying to relate specific information — with whom I am connecting behaves in a way that is purposeful and adaptive.
I consider the interaction life-enhancing and awareness-expanding. I continue to learn and grow more curious with each encounter.
A Different Kind of Communication
We often assume that if non-human intelligence were to make contact, it would appear clearly, visibly, in some kind of physical form. A body. But that assumption comes from a human expectation. What if contact isn’t about showing us what they are, but about finding a way to meet us without triggering fear?
As has been demonstrated for me (by them), fear closes the channel. It overrides perception and activates the body, full fight-or-flight, part of our hardwired survival code. Fear ends the interaction before it can begin. So instead, something else happens.
The intelligence adjusts. It selects imagery from within our own mind —ذهن—our memory, our visual language— and uses it as a bridge. The intention is not to deceive, but to stabilize the moment. To keep us present. To keep us engaged.
In this case, the Mahjong-like pattern was recent, recognizable, emotionally neutral, safe. And that safety allowed the interaction to continue.
The Quiet Intelligence Behind It
What stood out most wasn’t the visual, even though it threw me off balance, seeing the space it occupied and trying to quickly determine what I was seeing and how it could make sense. What struck me was the effort behind it.
There was an awareness of my ability to interpret that image as non-threatening. An understanding of what would startle, and what would not. I remember hearing the telepathic cue:
“They are here now.”
“In the corner of the room. Look at the closet.”
What I saw seemed to gradually infuse itself into the space. It modulated. What that implies is the intelligence interacting with me is not simply observing us. It is learning how to relate. And in doing so, it reveals a different model of contact entirely, one that is not invasive, not performative, but responsive.
Relational.
The Realization
In that moment of presence, one insight settled in clearly: They are not trying to show us what they are. They are trying to show us what we can handle, as each navigates this at the level they are prepared for, activated, and aware. And maybe that’s where real contact begins, as it has for centuries, carried through the teachings of shamans across Indigenous traditions.
As consciousness evolves and expands, we begin to engage with others in the field, and step into a learning curve that has always been there, waiting.
Oracle Card: The Non-Threatening Interface
Similar to what I witnessed. My view was in full color.
Meaning:
Contact adapts to your capacity. What appears familiar may be a bridge, not a coincidence. You are being met where you are, in a language you can receive without fear.
Keywords:
Translation • Calibration • Gentle Contact • Perceptual Bridge • Trust
Wisdom:
The signal does not force recognition.
It becomes recognizable.
Some forms of contact arrive as a shift. Although that shift may be subtle, it is unmistakably intentional.
My interactions, beyond the relationship with the nightlight, usually arrive with a telepathic prompt. Word cues include: “they’re here,” “pay attention,” “listen.”
It has taken me time to understand my experiences, and even longer to find the language to describe them. There isn’t always a clear framework in the moment.
Sometimes the meaning comes later, after sitting with it, or after another encounter reshapes what I thought I understood. Each experience adds context to the last.
Perspective adjusts.
Awareness expands.
What once felt unfamiliar begins to take on coherence.
That process is ongoing. And it’s something I’ve come to trust, because I’ve lived it.
Contact isn’t a race.
It is an invitation to expand our knowing. To remain focused and grounded, to determine a pace that is manageable, and to prepare to learn a thing or two about reality that challenges the current worldview.
Conscious Living & Wendy's Coffeehouse 