The Cosmic Grandmas and The Ant People

Weirdness and Wonder in Sedona, AZ

I like the title of this post for a band name, or maybe two. But here in Sedona, AZ, these are not bands, they are my new (telepathic) friends. The Cosmic Grandmas and the Ant People.

Huh?

Yep. As a bona fide Sedona resident now, I’ve fully entered the way of the Weird, aka Wyrd*, or a multidimensional way of life that includes enhanced spiritual ways of being and connecting, via HSP (meaning Higher Sensory Perception), to non-human “people.”

I experience Sedona as a bowl or nest of crystal and red rock, amplifying all things higher-dimensional, and my casita is pretty much in the middle of it, right next to the Airport Mesa vortex. It’s rather heavenly just being here….but soon I found trouble in paradise.

*I’m reminded of a book I read in my 20’s, highly recommended, titled The Way of Wyrd:

Sent on a mission deep into the forests of pagan Anglo-Saxon England, Wat Brand, a Christian scribe, suddenly finds his vision of the world turned upside down. The familiar English countryside is not what it seems: threatening spirits, birds of omen and plants of power lurk in this landscape of fallen terrors and mysterious forces. With Wulf, a sorcerer and mystic, as his guide, Brand is instructed in the magical lore of plants, runes, fate and the life force until finally he journeys to the spirit world on a quest to encounter the true nature of his own soul.

What kicked off my latest mis-advanture (I’m no longer living in Goldie, but still going on vanscursions with Heather, and will be taking longer trips alone) was a visitation of small black ants in my new casita. Ugh.

At first it was just a few, but then I awoke to a swarming trail into the kitchen, covering a cereal box and a plastic jar of honey. Seeing the black teeming piles evoked deep dread, because I still associate swarming insects with a childhood form of torture I experienced that I call “The Bug Tank.”

While trapped in the underground military laboratory (MILAB) near Yakima, WA USA between ages 3-6, I recall being covered with something sweet like syrup or honey, and placed into a big clear tank full of bugs, spiders, ants, and other stinging insects. The terror I remember on the first occasion was so high I passed out, but sadly, this was repeated, and eventually I grew desensitized: child soldier training, from structured traumatic dissociation. Healing from all kinds of traumatic abuse often involves re-exposure later in life, which brings opportunities to work through the flood of feelings that come up, so we can develop present-day mastery. As mentioned in the last post, I call these “Post-Traumatic Triumphs.”

First seeing the casita antrusion, I regressed and panicked. Thankfully, I texted my new landladies to ask for help. They came over and immediately set to work cleaning up and sealing tiny ant openings, while I took myself out to breakfast at my new favorite omelette spot, Sedona Crepes, and calmed down. My landladies live next door, and are a sweet retired lesbian couple who are also incredibly strong and resourceful, and care about me being happy here - like good grandmothers!

Chewing the most flavorful roasted-spicy home fries of my life, I relaxed and pondered, why is this happening? What is the deeper significance of this? Is there a bigger spiritual ‘message in the mess’ of an ant visit now?

Heather soon joined me for brunch, and reminded me that the ants were here first, this is their land, and we can learn to live in concert with them, which I agree with (in principle). But I can’t live with swarms of them on my food!

I thought about how I had recently joined a new online community called The Galactic Ship, where people talk about UFO’s, Extraterrestrials (ET’s), and Intraterrestrials (IT’s), among other topics. Through the “Ship,” I happened upon a series of posts related to a conference I plan to attend this month in Denver called the Galactic Spiritual Informers Connection (GSIC).

The conference mission:

We reveal  the uncensored, true history of our planet and solar system, showing the PROOF of our Extraterrestrial brothers and sisters.

My eyes zeroed in on a series of posts describing The Ashai “Ant” People of Terra (Earth).

Ant People!

I found a series of photos others had posted:

Figurines of Ant People? Can anyone translate?

I also found two YouTube Ant People stories from a secret informant called “JP” who allegedly works for the U.S. military, and is regularly sent on galactic missions to meet ET’s and IT's. I listened to them both, fascinated! Even if you don’t find the scenarios credible, the stories are fun to listen to.

Episode 1:

JP Update No.14 - Visits to King of Ant People and Ancient Moonbase

This is an image JP posted on his instagram page to represent what he saw:

Episode 2:

JP Update #32 - Ant People Move to New Realm after Ant King Transitions & Sleeping Giant Awakens

What a different type of engagement of the military with Ant People JP describes, compared to a horror movie about giant ants I saw with my family as a young girl in Yakima, when I was around 4 or 5 (‘74 or ‘75), called “Them!”

I believe this movie was used in my mind control programming, and it terrified me. It starts out with an unconscious little girl who was filled with acid by ants. Even watching the trailer now is disturbing to me.

🙄

But what if actual Ant People exist in a larger, sentient form than my little black housemates, and they are not our enemies? What if some of that programming was designed to keep me from making a connection to insectoid ET’s or inner earth beings who could actually be helpful?

Honaki Cave Hike

Heather told me about a Sedona landmark that is rumored to be connected to indigenous tribes who mentioned the Ant People, called Honaki Cave (“Bear House”). We took Goldie and Sparky out there one hot day (so far all the days here have been hot except one or two - I love it!), and I hiked around the area, looking for a spot to meditate and try to connect with Ant People.

Sparky took off down the trail, happily wearing his new southwest-themed kerchief…

Telepathically calling back, Hurry up mom, let’s go! (This is a common message from Sparky.)

I donned a sunhat, geeky and effective, while Heather lit Palo Santo and meditated against a beautiful tree.

Soon I’d passed Sparky up, but he found his way sure-pawedly…

At 13 years old, Sparky is blossoming in the desert! Must be the chihuahua in him.

Conversation with a Bee

A ways into the hike, something rather magical happened!

A little bee flew right in front of my face, then landed on a rock in front of me on the trail. If I took a step, I might squish him (it seemed like a him)!

“Hello, little bee, I’m Anastasia and this is Sparky,” I said aloud. “May we proceed up the canyon?”

The bee said (telepathically), No. He didn’t move.

Bummer!

I glanced around, thinking I’d find a spot to sit down, since it seemed our hike to the cave was over. Then I noticed a glade of tall grass bending over, almost as if to hide a secret passageway. When I turned back to look at the bee, he was gone!

I brushed aside the grass and indeed, a dry creekbed opened before me, snaking up the side of the hill! It was glorious.

I think the sentinel bee redirected me to this lovely dry waterfall!

I picked up Sparky and hiked to the top, sat down, and started playing my drum. The hot red rocks felt divine on the backs of my legs, baking in a healing energy. I sang to the vegetation around me, naming trees, cactus and brush. A light wind swirled around, and I felt a presence of memory in the space, as if I was simultaneously in the present, alone, and in the past, when this was a rushing waterfall, with others around and a joyful energy. I sensed (or was told?) that this had been a very happy and romantic place for the people who lived there once, who thought sitting near the falls was auspicious for love. These were images from the top.

A view from the top of the dry falls, and King of the hill doggie

I stayed for a while, and time seemed to stand still, luxuriating in the heat and pungent desert pine scent. Then, when things seemed complete, I picked up Sparky and headed back to find Heather and Goldie. And that’s where the Cosmic Grandmothers spoke up!

Teasing from Cosmic Grandmothers: Being Granted My Native Name

I have sensed etheric Grandmother energy before, but rarely. I spoke of them in this recording in 2018, during a talk I gave at a Women’s Retreat of Sex and Love Addiction called “What is Sober Sacred Sexuality?” I remember that day, arriving to a beautiful ocean-front camp on the Olympic Peninsula, when I got out of my car and sensed them immediately: a collective group of ancient spirits, feminine, wise, loving. Back then I began to cry, and said angrily to them in my mind,

Where have you been???!!! I needed you!!!

They told me they couldn’t get to earth due to negative interfering energy, except rarely. This gathering of over 40 women pursuing sexual sobriety, love and health generated a positive energy and opened a portal for the Cosmic Grandmothers to communicate through.

Oh!

After I left the retreat, I couldn’t hear them again, until this day in Honaki, when they showed up and one called to me with admonishment:

Quit clomping down the trail like a big horse! You’re squashing all the plants!

It was them, the Grandmothers, only this time they sounded more robust, and full of merriment. I heard them talking to one another about me!

She does stomp around the desert like a horse, look at her! She’s like a big Clydesdale!

Indeed, yes. This will be her native name: Clyde.

I had that odd feeling of being talked about when you are right there, but also felt giddy because their attention was a bath of deeply warm love, like the red rocks on the backs of my legs. I would accept any name they wanted to give me, and it was true - carrying Sparky with my drum on my back, I was clomping around awkwardly.

Tuff Stuff Clyde, another called out. That’s her full name.

I felt seen. As a little girl, my family nick-name had been “Tuffy.” I’d had to toughen up, surviving so much, and I felt that they were acknowledging this fact. Bolstered, I knew I could go back to the casita and face the black ants again, face whatever came next in this uncertain advanture. What a gift!

❤️