Meeting 2 : What's your name?
Meeting: 25th December 2024
Published: 08th January 2025
Meeting: 25th December 2024
Published: 08th January 2025
Hi, I'm Suzan, your slightly apprehensive, often sarcastic, but always curious liaison to the extraterrestrial realm. This is my second encounter with the beings, and let me tell you, if the first meeting was a whirlwind, this one was a quirky little storm of its own.
After my first meeting with these ETs, I found myself obsessing over one seemingly small but increasingly significant detail: What the heck should I call them? I mean, if we're going to be meeting regularly, it'd be nice to address them by something other than "Hey, you over there with the glowy aura." Names, as it turns out, are important. They're a way to bridge gaps, to show respect, and-let's be honest-to make me feel a little less like an idiot yelling into the void. So, I decided to ask them.
When I arrived at the meeting-this time with slightly less stomach-churning free-fall-I was greeted by five of them standing in what I can only describe as a team huddle. They were touching shoulders, forming a circle with a star-like glow at the center. The scene screamed "pre-game strategy meeting," and I couldn't help but imagine them breaking into a synchronized chant.
"May I speak to my ET?" I asked, my voice shaking just a tad. They turned to face me, their movements fluid and deliberate. I took a deep breath and plunged into my question: "By what name would you like to be called?" Cue the first round of "What the hell is happening?" They showed me a series of images: a serene figure meditating, a teapot (yes, a teapot), and a landing platform that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi theme park. My brain went into overdrive trying to decipher their version of charades. Was the teapot a joke? Were they offering me intergalactic tea?
Maybe the landing platform was their mid-stop rendezvous for a cup of tea. I'm sure I will find out at some time. Still, I persisted. "Anything else to help me figure out your name?"
Finally, they stopped the visual bombardment and went for the direct approach. I heard a soft voice in my head, nudging me to just say what came to mind. "Shaka," I blurted out. It felt like a word plucked from nowhere, but the moment I said it, I knew it was right. Their subtle acknowledgment confirmed it. "Why didn't you do that in the first place?" I muttered, realizing a little too late that sarcasm might not translate well across galaxies. But hey, progress is progress. Dealing with a human must take time and patience.
With the naming question settled, Shaka shifted gears, showing me an image of an old caravel-a ship used for exploration in Earth's history. They followed it with a scene of the caravel heading toward a distant tower, which looked suspiciously like the Eiffel Tower.
The message was clear: Shaka saw themselves as explorers, great travelers venturing into the unknown, much like our own historical adventurers. And the beacon? That was us. Humanity had reached a point where we were ready for contact-or at least ready enough to warrant their curiosity. Thinking to myself, "Do they have never-ending batteries?" I'm just thinking of that special device, asking for a friend of course.
As the meeting wrapped up, I felt a mix of relief and lingering nerves. Shaka's revelations, while profound, were wrapped in layers of ambiguity. But one thing was clear: these beings were here to observe, to connect, and perhaps, to guide us in some way. Back home, I couldn't help but Google "Shaka." Turns out, it's a Hawaiian term meaning "hang loose" or "right on," often accompanied by a hand gesture of relaxed camaraderie. I had to laugh-these cosmic travelers had a sense of humor, after all. As I poured myself a glass of wine-unopened, because Shaka's tech doesn't extend to uncorking bottles-I couldn't help but feel excited for our next meeting. What would they show me? What new questions would arise? One thing was certain: this journey was just getting started. Until next time.