Remote Viewing Session Log
Date: October 24, 2024
Time: Approximately 10:00 PM

I’ve always been fascinated with Mars. As humanity directs its focus toward reaching this neighboring planet, I felt it was fitting to attempt a remote viewing session with Mars as my focal point. My hope was to see beyond the snippets of information released to the public—a slow trickle of details that hint at a richer reality we’ve yet to fully explore.

NASA’s recent disclosure about massive reserves of water just below the Martian surface has fueled the imagination of many. Where there is water, it’s possible—if not likely—that life can be sustained. This discovery opens the door to thinking not only of microscopic organisms but of larger, organic lifeforms, maybe even plant life.

With these thoughts in mind, I settled into my usual meditation posture, centered my focus, and gradually began stepping down my consciousness. I let my awareness draw inward, deepening as if moving through layers of perception. Soon, a channel opened before me, like a funnel forming a pathway, and I felt as though I were being drawn through a wormhole. A vision of Mars became vivid in my mind, and I felt as though I was looking down on the red planet from a satellite view.

A Bird’s Eye View of Mars

Hovering above Mars, I could see a vast landscape filled with plateaus, canyons, valleys, and hills. I scanned the terrain, observing crater after crater, each etched into the Martian surface by ages of erosion. One crater, in particular, drew my focus—a large depression worn down over time, with a water flow gently trickling down its sides, forming a substantial lake at the bottom. Along the banks of this lake, there was brush—a mix of dry, partially dead plants and some clinging to life in the arid environment. It was a scene of resilience and adaptation, as though the landscape experienced cycles of life and death, where vegetation would flourish, fade, and return with each season.

The sight of actual vegetation on Mars was exhilarating, yet it didn’t stop there. As I continued to scan the landscape, I noticed larger forms: trees. I saw very tall trees resembling mountain sage, their towering forms standing as a testament to life’s tenacity on this seemingly barren planet.

To my right, I sensed a presence—a guide of sorts—and I asked, “Are those trees?”

“Yes, Ezekiel, those are indeed trees. Mars has trees,” he replied.

The validation sent a wave of amazement through me. Trees on Mars! It defied the dry, desolate image we’ve held of the planet for so long. I felt I was uncovering a new chapter in our understanding of this world.

The Crater City of Light

Continuing to explore, my attention was drawn to a cliffside area within the crater. Here, carved naturally or perhaps deliberately into the rock, was a large cavern, glowing with light. As I focused, I saw a city of light within the cavern, radiating an energetic glow outward. This city, with its architecture seamlessly blending into the rock face, reminded me of the ancient cliff dwellings found in the deserts of Arizona. Such a location would offer protection and insulation in Mars’s thin atmosphere—a practical adaptation for survival.

The city’s energy was palpable, as though it were alive with activity. I felt a distinct sense of intelligence and purpose in this place, a civilization that had carved out a home on Mars long before our Earthly missions even dreamed of touching its soil.

A Closer Look at the Martian Landscape

Drawn closer to the surface, I allowed my consciousness to descend, as though I were walking along the banks of that lake within the crater. As I looked around, I could see the Martian sky—a deep blue shade shifting toward purple, with hints of dusty red along the horizon. It felt like dawn, the early hours just as the planet’s sun was rising.

The land around me was breathtaking in its stark beauty. Vast cliffs and towering plateaus surrounded me, their edges jagged yet graceful. The air itself, though I wasn’t breathing it directly, seemed to carry an impression—thin, like the high-altitude air on Earth, but breathable. It was less abundant in oxygen, yet life had clearly adapted here in a way that seemed almost familiar. There was water, there were plants, there were trees, and there was a sense of quiet resilience.

The Atmosphere and the Presence of Life

From this close-up vantage, I could sense that the atmosphere on Mars, though sparse, could still support life—an arid desert environment with cycles of renewal and dormancy. The scene before me contradicted what we’ve long believed about Mars. Life, organic life, was here. I could feel its vitality even in the harsh landscape, as though the planet itself was a cradle nurturing these resilient forms.

This vision was interrupted suddenly by barking dogs in the house, calling me back to full awareness. I had to rise from my meditation to take care of the situation, grounding myself once again in the familiar surroundings of my home.

Reflections on the Session

This session was both surreal and enlightening. It offered a view of Mars that went beyond what science and exploration have yet confirmed publicly, hinting at a world with potential for sustaining life, possibly even civilizations. The recent discovery of water beneath Mars’s surface hints at these possibilities, but as a public, we receive such revelations in small, controlled increments. Perhaps there is much more to Mars than what we currently know or are being told—a world of trees, vegetation, and ancient cities carved into cliffsides.

This experience has left me with a profound curiosity about what lies ahead for our understanding of Mars and the universe. Until then, I carry with me the memories of that Martian dawn, the city of light, and the trees standing proudly in the crater, defying everything we thought we knew.

This concludes the session. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey to Mars.