Sirians

Opening of contact. In 1976 Robert Temple returned the ancient Sirius connection to humanity's awareness with his book The Sirius Mystery. Behind it lay the tradition of the Dogon people of Mali, recorded by the French researchers Marcel Griaule and Germaine Dieterlen in the 1930s and 1940s: Sirius has an invisible companion whose orbit takes about fifty years. The tradition also told of the Nommo, water-dwelling beings who descended in an ark amid a great wind. None of this knowledge had been written down. It had been carried in ceremony from one generation to the next, which is a more awkward method of storage and proved the more durable one.

The nation's home world. Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, and Sirians live both on the planets of Sirius A and in the worlds connected with Sirius B. Several peoples operate in the system, humanoids and beings closely tied to water, and they do not all share one home planet. In ancient Egypt the return of this star to the dawn sky marked the flooding of the Nile and the beginning of the new year. A nation whose theme is flow is known, therefore, by the star that announced the arrival of water to humanity long before anyone channelled a word from it.

How does this nation appear? Sirians arrive as teachers of ancient knowledge, as water peoples, as blue humanoids and as the crew of star craft. Contact opens through water, through dolphins and whales, through the sacred knowledge of Egypt, through vivid dreams and through sound. The message does not come whole but in layers, and each layer opens only once the previous one has been lived. This is why Sirian contact often lasts years and may feel like nothing much on any one evening.

Its mission beside humanity. Sirians preserve the ancient memory held between Earth and the stars. Their wisdom flows through form the way water does, without losing what it is: water takes the shape of the vessel without becoming the vessel. The other half of the mission concerns feeling. Many people have been taught to choose between reason and emotion, and Sirian teaching refuses the arrangement entirely. Feeling is not the opposite of knowledge but its means of transport, and beneath the feeling there often rests something the mind has not yet had time to formulate.

How does contact open? Contact strengthens beside water, in dreams, through sound and rhythm, or in the moment a feeling is finally allowed to move freely. Repetition is not tedious to them but a method. The same dream returns three times, and on the third the person finally asks it something.

How can its presence be recognised? Deep blue light, the joining of water and stars and unusually vivid dreams are the signs of Sirius. The most precise mark, though, is that the knowledge does not feel new. It feels returned, as though remembering something you always knew but could never say. The practical test is simple: Sirian knowledge survives repetition. An invented insight fades in the telling; this one deepens.