By KEN KORCZAK
Author’s note: This is Part 2 of my ‘consciousness projection’ to Denisova Cave in the year 40,000 B.C. To see Part 1, please go here:
ADVENTURES IN CONSCIOUSNESS: DENISOVA 40,000 B.C.
Now, here is a very brief summary for those who have not read Part 1 of this story:
>> Using consciousness enhancement techniques described in Part One, I was finally able (after 1,500+ failed attempts) to project my sentient awareness back 40,000 years to a location just outside of Denisova Cave in Siberia.
>> My goal was to enter the cave because it is known to have been inhabited by Neanderthal and Denisovan peoples, and I wanted to meet, observe & interact with these now-extinct species of humanity.
>> I was unable to enter the cave because it was blocked by a powerful “shamanic charm” designed to keep out intruders. The blocking charm was placed by a hybrid Neanderthal-Denisovan shaman.
>> In the vicinity outside the cave, I am stunned to meet up with the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman himself — the very entity who is enforcing the protective barrier.
I now pick up the narrative at the point of my first meeting with this powerful Shaman.
HOW DO YOU COMMUNICATE WITH A NEANDERTHAL?
So, you know, what I have discovered on my many exoconscious journeys is that going in with a simple plan lands me in a situation more complicated than my original intent.
For example, the pre-preparation intent for my project was:
“I will travel back in time 40,000 years to Denisova Cave to meet the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman who is enforcing the blocking charm to protect the cave.”
Well!
Suddenly, I found myself suffering from success! Standing not 20 feet away from me was the very figure I had hoped to encounter. But what now?
I had no plan for establishing communication. Obviously, I did not know the Neanderthal spoken language — or even if they even had a spoken language!
Furthermore, consider that I am a man of the 21st Century, and this ancient Neanderthal hybrid is a denizen of 40,000 B.C. — and he is literally a distinct species of human being.
I mean, forget about the massive cultural difference between, say, a tax attorney working in Manhattan and an aboriginal tribesman living a hunter-gatherer lifestyle in a remote region of the Amazon rainforest.
I’m an ordinary primate, a Homo Sapien white guy, a retired journalist residing in the year 2023. I might as well have been an alien being from another galaxy vis-a-vis a Neanderthal-Denisovan of the year 40,000 B.C.!
On the other hand, I held this key notion:
While I and the Neanderthal were “alien” to each other in many profound respects — both of us are “children of the earth” who share a common history, a common planet and, indeed, we share DNA.
THE UNIVERSAL PSYCHIC VERNACULAR
All this said, I and others who have journeyed into the “astral realms” (or other realms) come to understand that the standard vernacular of the universe is almost never spoken language but communication by means of mind-to-mind thought transfer.
I dislike terms like “psychic communication” or “mental telepathy” because they seem antiquated to me and invoke the dreaded “woo-woo.”
But let’s face it; thought transfer/exchange is how communication between two distinct Individuated Units of Consciousness in our vast universe usually finds common ground — even if that only is to share basic concepts and meanings that allow for at least some minimal exchange of information.
Such was the case when I met the alien reptilian being I wrote about HERE. We communicated on a “thought-and-concept” level, not in spoken language.
But now let’s get back to Denisova Cave.
TWO MORE SHAMANS EMERGE
Thoughts like these were running through my mind as I stood on that craggy slope of Denisova facing off with the Neanderthal Shaman — then there was an astounding development!
After sizing me up, the Neanderthal-Denisovan turned away and looked back at the snowbank from which he had just arisen. Presently, the surface of the snow began to shift and boil again!
I observed in electrified fascination as two more figures emerged from the snow. They came forth in the same manner as the shaman had just done — they arose from a horizontal position as if they had been reclining flat on their back beneath the snow, rising straight up.
Once they cleared the snowbank, the pair then tilted upward on their heels and came to a standing position. Both of these two new “members of the party” were nearly identical to the first Neanderthal-Denisovan. They were veritably triplets!
A psychic-intuitive notion flowed into my mind suggesting that what I was dealing with here was not a single Neanderthal-Denisovan shaman — but “A Trinity Being.”
Side Note: On my many consciousness adventures throughout the Multiverse, I have occasionally met other Trinity Beings or what I sometimes call “Triads.” It’s essentially three beings of any type that work in concert as groups of three, and as if their minds are melded. To read about one of these tri-group entities I have met — The Triad of the Nine — see my story here:
So there I was, a lone figure in a far-off realm confronting three “beings” whom I had no idea were friendly or hostile.
THE SHAMAN STAFF TO THE RESCUE
As I said in Part 1 of this story, when my eyes fell upon the shaman staff cradled in the hand of the Neanderthal-Denisovan, nuanced waves of emotions pulsed through my consciousness.
Mixed in with those emotions was an intimation of a potential hopeful circumstance. I detected an opportunity.
It was the shaman’s staff!
I realized– the staff was a nexus — a point of connection! That’s because, as it happens, I also have years of experience working with a shaman’s staff of my own design, an instrument with which I have formed a deep psychosocial-exoconscious connection.
The story of how I chose and developed my personal shaman’s staff is a long one, so I’ll leave those details on the table for now, except to say that I received instructions to create, configure and empower my staff from a Ouija board contact who identified himself as “Gefraim” and a “master customized staff design specialist.”
A shaman’s staff is not “just a stick.” It’s a highly intricate thought tool that serves as a physical avatar representing higher energy forms sourced in the nonphysical or spiritual plain (for lack of a better term).
Verily, a shaman’s staff is a bridge between worlds.
It’s an implement used to connect the spiritual realm with our physical realm so that certain tasks can be accomplished — in my case, mostly orb channeling and energy work, but also directing specific thought-intent energies.
In this case, I felt that I could mentally manifest at least the concept of my shaman staff and project its energy to the staff implements held by the Neanderthal shamans. In that way, I could build a bridge to facilitate a communicative bond.
THE SHAMAN-TRIAD HAD SOMETHING TO SHOW ME
Now:
My initial plan had been to negotiate an entrance into Denisova Cave, but that quickly evaporated as I came to understand intuitively that the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman Triad had other plans for me.
Astoundingly, I came to understand they had been expecting me!
All three now moved closer to my position and surrounded me. I soon found myself inside what mathematicians call “the centroid” which is the “center of mass” of an equilateral triangle.
I keyed in on the energies of the Neanderthal’s staff leveraging the thought form energy of my own shaman’s staff.
The immediate effect was that any fear or nervousness I might have had about my powerful ancient cousins quickly evaporated. In fact, an indelible notion had been seeping into my awareness that these three Neanderthal-Denisovans were indeed just that — my cousins!
Amazingly, it was a feeling — a sense, a notion, a knowingness — that these individuals were somehow long-lost members of my own family!
That’s right!
My heart warmed to them. An empathetic conception seeped into my comprehension as if by osmosis. It urged me toward an intimate psychometric symbiosis with my “new friends.”
Whatever the case, one thing was now certain: This Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman Triad intended to take me somewhere. They were determined to show me something that was of supreme importance to me — but it would not be inside Denisova Cave.
THE TORTURED NEANDERTHAL
Standing at the center of the Triad, I opened my Third Eye and Heart Chakra and flowed it through my thought-form staff as I tuned into the shimmering Mana radiation flowing from each Neanderthal staff.
I laser-focused on my “acuity of place” so that I could remain centered as I observed our location scene shift, waver, alter and transform. When the scene solidified, I found that I had been transported to a high region of the mountains.
I stood now, along with my three companions, on a broad shelf that jutted out from the side of a mountain. It was roughly a crescent-shaped area about half the size of a football field.
Soaring above was the jagged, craggy peak of the mountain. Looking out from the shelf formation was a breathtaking panorama of a broad, forested valley below that ascended what seemed like a dizzying height of 10,000 feet.
A series of broad mountainous shoulders descended in slopes that nestled into one other as they rolled off into the vast distance. A disk of pale sun graced a vibrant turquoise-blue sky and sent lemon-yellow light cascading across the spectacular landscape below.
Turning back now to the interior of the shelf, the Neanderthal-Denisovan Triad beckoned me to follow them. We walked toward a strange sight — and this would be one of the most astounding experiences of my entire life.
As I moved closer, I clawed at my intellect to integrate what I was seeing!
There was a small copse of rugged Siberian Stone Pines. On the edge of this small group of trees were two larger Stone Pines that stood out a few feet from the bunch.
I first thought I was looking at some kind of hammock made of thick, furry animal skins strung between the trees. As I came closer, however, I saw that it was a man — a big, burly Neanderthal — who was tied by his feet at one end and his wrists at the other.
Like a human hammock, his body hung in an agonizing curve with his face toward the ground. His hands and arms were strained above his head. The arch of his back & spinal column seemed drawn to the point of breaking. The pain must have been unimaginably intense and excruciating.
The strung-up Neanderthal was wearing a thick covering of long-haired fur that looked to be made of the reddish pelt of a grizzly bear. It was difficult to discern where his own tangled mass of reddish hair left off from the hairs of his bear coat — all were intermingled with thick, matted, congealed blood.
Mixed bodily fluids of saliva, mucus and blood had coagulated and frozen across his face, beard and hair. The furry tangles surrounding his head and on his shoulders were an unholy mess of clotted clumps and gore-encrusted tendrils of shaggy ichor.
I felt numb with shock, yet a determined internal force of purpose allowed me to move closer to this tragic figure. But my shock multiplied a thousand times over when I looked into the face of this tortured Neanderthal.
That’s because I instantly recognized him — with 100% certainty and total clarity …
… This man was my father!
ONE MOON
He was not the Homo Sapien father that I once had in my own life back here in Minnesota. I came to understand this as supplemental data flowed into my consciousness.
Much of this data was coming my way thanks to my new-found cousins, the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman Triad. All the while, I maintained my connection to their three shaman staffs via communicative integration with my own thoughtform staff.
I comprehended that this was a reincarnation situation.
To make a long story short, it seems that I had a past life in the era of around 40,000 B.C. I was the son of a Neanderthal clansman — this very agonized individual now hanging before me in a grotesque and brutal manner.
I could perceive that “my father” was not yet dead, although he had lost consciousness. A dimming ember of life and awareness still glowed within him — but even this was tipping on the cusp of extinguishment.
But why had I been brought here to witness his final moment?
I turned to my Neanderthal Shaman Triad cousins and beseeched them for answers. All three of them returned my inquisitive look. They gazed upon me with their luminous eyes and broad, heavy-boned faces.
I felt a sense of nurturing brotherhood, family warmth and support of purpose coming from them. It was unlike any other quality of belonging that I have ever experienced or knew could exist.
The answers I needed kept flowing in. Data forms — quanta-packets of information— were injecting themselves into my “virtual brain.” Although there was no spoken language, the Shaman Triad conveyed a gestalt into my mind that I will roughly translate as:
“One Moon. You must bring your father home.”
When I heard that name — my name!— One Moon! — my sphere of consciousness began to swirl with a sense of wonderment that I find utterly impossible to describe here with mere written words. But the facts are:
- In my previous life as a Neanderthal, my name had been One Moon — and for a specific reason. I was called One Moon because I had lived only 30 days as a Neanderthal baby and died as a one-month-old infant.
- I was born on the night of the New Moon. A sickly baby who could not properly digest my mother’s milk, I eked along through a full set of moon phases. On the day of the Full Moon two weeks after my birth, my life was already half over.
- As the Full Moon then waned and transitioned back to the darkness of the New Moon, my vitality faded and winked out of physical reality manifestation in that era of ~40,000 B.C.
Now get this:
I also received this data point pertaining to the culture of this specific tribe of Neanderthals and Denisovans:
According to their belief system, a newborn baby is not granted the status of “life” or “legitimate being” until he or she lives through one full cycle of the moon — about 30 days.
Compare this to other belief systems which have different ideas for determining the beginning of life. For example, the Jewish Torah (and the Biblical Book of Genesis derived from it) states that what constitutes “being alive” is determined by the presence of “breath.”
“Yahveh formed the man from the dust of the earth and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living nefesh” (the first breath). (Genesis 2.7).
In other words, Life began for human a being when God breathed the “breath of life” into him or her.
Other Scripture suggests that “life ends” when “breathing stops.”
Of course, many Christians today argue that life begins “at conception.” Among others, they quote this verse from Scripture:
Psalm 139:13 “For you formed my inward parts; you covered me in my mother’s womb.”
Whatever the case, I learned that the Neanderthals had a different standard for defining a “legitimate living person,” and that was surviving at least one full phase cycle of the moon.
A newborn, therefore, is not given a name until they survive their first moon cycle. In my case, I had just made it by the skin of my teeth! Even though I died on my 30th day — it was enough!
I was a Neanderthal! I was a tribesman! I belonged! I had survived!
I was granted the sacred honor of a name!
One Moon!
SENDING FATHER HOME: CALLING THE PSYCHOPOMP
So, the Neanderthal infant, One Moon, died 40,000+ years ago. His soul would exit that frail, defective body after a brief existence and it would reincarnate — who knows how many times? Hundreds? Thousands? More?
Whatever the case, one of those reincarnations would be me — an ordinary white dude born in 1959 in a small northern Minnesota town on Ground Hog Day during a blizzard.
As I stood on that high craggy mountain shelf in 40,000 B.C., I embodied two iterations of my Oversoul — Ken and One Moon. We were as one.
I was Ken One Moon.
And I was ready. I knew how to “take my father home.” It was a matter of calling forth the appropriate psychopomp. A psychopomp is defined as:
A creature, totem animal, spirit, angel, deity or daemon whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls from Earth to the afterlife. Their role is not to judge the deceased, but simply to guide them.
Again, I am thankful that I came into this situation with significant practice with what I call “amateur shamanism” in which I occasionally attempt to call forth totem animals, elementals or nature spirits of many varieties.
I have some photographic evidence of my efforts. Here are just two examples:
NOT HIS LION BUT THE STURGEON
There is one major element of the scene on the mountain shelf I have left out, but I will tell you about it now.
About 50 feet away from where my Neanderthal father hung in ritual sacrifice, there reclined a gigantic lion. It was of a species I did not recognize.
This magnificent cat was like a hybrid of an African lion and a Siberian tiger. It was huge — about 20 meters long from nose to tail. It reclined “Sphinx” style and kept a cool gaze on the dying form of my father.
It came to me that this was my father’s totem animal. This caused me some confusion at first. That’s because it was my notion that my father’s lion was waiting there for the death of his counterpart so that he could conduct him into the afterlife.
But if that was so, why did the Shaman Triad bring me here to carry out the task instead?
I once again appealed to the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman Triad for answers. I asked them why the totem lion could not fulfill the function of psychopomp. Again, the answer was not verbal, but I will roughly translate the reply they gave me as this:
“The lion is not a creature of the river or water.”
I instantly understood what they meant!
Drawing on my knowledge of mythology, I recalled Charon. He was the ferryman of Greek mythology. His job was to transport the newly dead across the River Styx or River Acheron which divides the worlds of the living and the dead.
But I also understood it was not I who would be acting as “The Charon of the Neanderthal.” Rather, what I was being asked to do was to call forth the proper psychopomp — an entity of my choosing.
Without a microsecond of hesitation, I selected the sturgeon. What better creature to carry my Neanderthal father across the Homo Neanderthalensis River of the Dead?
As you may know, the sturgeon is among our most ancient and longest-surviving species of freshwater fish. The earliest fossils of sturgeons date to the Cretaceous Era. These are, in turn, descended from an earlier form of the species of the Jurassic Period, 174 to 201 million years ago.
The sturgeon is abundant here in my home state of Minnesota. In fact, my nephew holds the record for the largest river sturgeon caught in our state.
Whatever the case, the very instant I began to compose myself to initiate a ritualized calling of the Sturgeon Psychopomp Guide to the Dead, a gargantuan Earth-shaking rumbling erupted. It was vibrating the very base of the mountain itself!
I looked out across the vast chasm of the valley and was stunned to see a colossal wave spanning the horizon. It was enormous on a planetary scale! It was as if a moon-sized asteroid had crashed into a distant ocean and was now sending a water-wall shockwave 25,000 feet high careening across the surface of the globe!
The immense rampart of water rushed toward us with ferocious speed. This seismic mega-tsunami was a bruising, angry purple with shades of kelpy green. Its thousands of square miles of vertical mass were striated with shining webs of frothy white sea foam that marbled across the surface — boiling and seething like plasmatic facula on the surface of a raging supernova!
Searing, brilliant lightning bolts erupted and struck the top tier of the wavefront while exploding across the sky — seeming to reach the very ionosphere itself — only to crackle down again in millions of articulations like sprawling oak tree branches made of pure electro-plasmatic energy!
A roaring wind and thunderclaps of astronomical decibel levels sent shock waves of sonic energy powerful enough to pulverize giant granite boulders, turning them into instant powder!
I cried out from the depths of my being: “What have I done!”
Then, amid the apocalyptic water wall, I saw not a sturgeon — but an unbelievably gigantic MOSASAUR the size of 50 battleships! It was surfing powerfully amid the center of the approaching onslaught!
Just as I was about to fall into despair because of my idiocy, my heart soared with joy as I saw the form of an ancient Jurassic Era species of sturgeon hurling itself with powerful strokes alongside the mosasaur. The giant sturgeon navigated the explosive mega-wave as if it were the wingman of its saurian companion!
I lifted my voice into the shattering tumult and cried out:
“GRANDFATHER STURGEON!”
“TAKE MY FATHER HOME!”
I had no more time to think. The humungous mega-wave rushed forward and swallowed the massive 10,000-foot-deep valley below as easily as a barracuda snaps-up a smelt fish.
The planet-killing sea swell then slammed into me, the Neanderthal-Denisovan Shaman Triad, my dying father, his totem lion and swallowed the entire mountain itself.
My flimsy “nothing body” was instantly atomized!
My consciousness was flung apart and blasted into individual photons stripped away from the subatomic particles of my mind matrix. All were scattered in an infinitely wide dispersion field across the ether of the universe.
Back in the year 2023, I came awake in my bed with an electric jolt.
I was home. I had returned to Minnesota.
I got up and looked out the open second-floor bedroom window. I felt soft, cool air coming through the screen. Outside, I could hear the calming organ notes of frogs and creek-creek of crickets.
Floating serenely in the night sky was a freshly minted crescent moon.
All was well.
NOTE: For further stories about my “Adventures in Consciousness” and a lot more, please see: KEN-ON-MEDIUM