THE ZETA EMISSARY ROLE, WERE THERE AUDITIONS?
Courage as Criteria
I'm often asked, on email, what it takes to become a Zeta Emissary.
There are lots of volunteers.
People see the success of the ZetaTalk website, and want to be a part of this process.
'Can I too, be a Zeta Emissary?' they ask.
There is more to this process than an offer, however.
Per the Zetas, many give the Call wanting a role, but for this role to succeed requires more than an offer.
First, the person must be suitable, in the right body, in the right place and time, having the right soul history, and with the right spiritual inclination to do good.
As an example of how the Zetas sort out who should be supported in a role, and who not, is their explanation of their vetting process when a contactee want to bring forth technology to mankind, with their assistance.
The Zetas have stated that for ACCEPTED Calls asking for a particular role that would require Zeta assistance, only 1 in 20 succeeds.
Thus, even after the person qualifies, based on all the factors to be considered, there is still failure.
Thus, the Zetas, or any group of visitors from other worlds wishing to communicate to mankind, must chose wisely.
That said, what was it about Nancy that qualifies her for the job of communicator?
It has certainly been pointed out that others have higher IQ's, are better educated, more attractive and personable, positioned to command respect in human society, and less hampered by poor health, so why the heck is Nancy given the time and attention that she obviously gets in order to be the Zeta Emissary?
Per the Zetas, they were long familiar with the soul being incarnated into Nancy, and could trust this soul to stand staunchly against the intimidation and manipulation likely to be cast against anyone delivering the ZetaTalk message.
My engagement with MJ12 started in mid-1994, and ended when MJ12 closed itself down, just prior to Bush and Cheney taking office in early
I would like to think I had a role in MJ12 closing itself down, as during my engagement the governing board increasingly learned to chat freely with the Zetas, and this process pryed the grip that the CIA had over MJ12 away, and allowed the governing boards to see more clearly that alien groups had different spiritual orientation, STO or STS.
Was my engagement with MJ12 necessary for the ZetaTalk message to flourish?
In that most chatter about Planet X on the Internet and airwaves stress that Planet X is out there someplace in the future, or not existant at all, and in that ZetaTalk insists on telling the truth and pointing out how the common man can check this out for themselves, the ZetaTalk message should, by all rights, be snuffed.
Yes, debunking occurs, but exposure on the media continues apace: live morning radio shows, C2C radio and other evening radio shows, the Rense Sightings radio show, Strange Universe TV in 1997 and on TV prime time in New Zealand in 2003, and lots of chats and webcasting.
Rather than proceed as strangers, my engagement with MJ12 allowed us to get to know each other, and hash it out behind closed doors.
Have I been threatened? Certainly, and tortured in the early days of my unlimited engagement with MJ12, in ways that the CIA uses that leave no marks, but as the man assigned to torture me said, seeing he was getting nowhere 'we'll be here all night, this isn't working'.
So where MJ12 wanted a relationship that was a dictatorship, they command and I folow, what evolved was discussions and eventually teamwork.
This teamwork was with those within MJ12 that were Service-to-Other, and this teamwork exists today with the breakaway group that formed the new MJ12 after the old group died.
So the primary reason I, Nancy, have the role of Zeta Emissary, is not IQ, or physical looks, or position in society, or genetics, it's that my soul, the
incarnating soul, can be trusted to be fearless in standing up to the intimidation.
And sometimes such courage reaps remarkable rewards!
I was 55 years of age when ZetaTalk began, only learning that I was a contactee a couple of years before that.
How is this possible, that I could have been prepared for this role all my life, yet be unaware?
Per the Zetas, many contactees are sleepers, deliberately keeping themselves consciously unaware of their contactee status, so they can live normal lives.
In my case, preparing for a communication role, an earlier awareness of my contactee status may have caused me to talk about this, seek support
groups, talk openly at work about my experiences, and perhaps thus not be promoted at work as a result.
By being a timed-release contactee, I was open to the possibilities of ghosts and spirits and visitors from elsewhere zipping about in UFO's, but didn't have firm opinions.
I worked in the computer field, first a programmer and then a systems analyst, finally into Project Management responsible for the development of large systems, and put my children through college, all while seeming to be quite normal.
Had I been awakened earlier, I might have been considered 'that crazy lady who talks to aliens', so that when the time was right, the Earth changes quickening, debunkers would say 'she's always been like that'.
I arrived, thus, as a communicator, just as the Earth changes were quickening, in 1995.
Ignoring, all those decades, any indication that I was a contactee.
There were indications early on, however, that I was a contactee, and indications during my first meeting with the Zetas that I had a pre-birth agreement to be a communicator.
During recall of my first meeting with the Zetas, they kept asking me if I knew why there were there, as though they were asking little Nancy's soul to update her young brain.
If the soul knew, little Nancy the human body did not.
Here, in my own words, was what I recalled from that day in the swamp, my first meeting with the Zetas as a young girl of perhaps 7 or 8.
After this recall, I backed up to a mirror and indeed found a scar behind my right elbow, looked like a mouse had nipped me there.
One would never notice a scar in such a place, and I could not recall ever being injured there either.
I considered this confirmation that the recall was valid.
But there was more confirmation, something that happened to me at the age of 12, confirming what had occurred at this first meeting.
During my first meeting, the Zetas did something to my forehead.
I think they're going to do something with my forehead. They don't take my clothes off, they just bend my head forward a little bit and kind of shield my eyes or tell me to close my eyes now. They do something to my forehead. I'm not really aware of any discomfort.
They have their hands at the side of my head, pulling my head face up, trying to check it out. They've got my head at an angle and do something to my forehead. It's a little bit sore, but it's a very dull ache.
What was done to my forehead?
When I was 12 years old I had sinus infections.
My mother sent me to the doctor who stuffed medicated cotton up my nose and put a diathermy machine over my sinuses.
The pad ran from the middle of my forehead to below my nose.
Diathermy works, in part, by reflecting the body heat, so one should never have a diathermy treatment if they have a fever.
The doctor took my temp, no fever, and we proceeded.
My forehead had a dull ache, seemed too hot, and I asked the doctor if it should get this hot but he seemed unconcerned.
Just a child, complaining.
But when the treatment was done, he said 'uh oh', as there were blisters and white skin in the center of my forehead.
Third degree burn, cooked all the way to the bone!
No such burn occurred on my eyebrows or nose, which were more exposed and had thin skin.
Just the center of my forehead, in the shape of a circle about the size of a silver dollar, just where the Third Eye is located.
My mother, who was a nurse, was very casual about it, unlike her normal self.
But then she had that odd scar over her temple, the one neither she nor her mother could ever figure out as she had never been injured there.
The doctor had the diathermy machine checked out, but it was OK, and returned to using it on other patients.
All this remained a mystery until I was 53 years old and my son got the notion that he was a contactee, perhaps our family was a family of contactees, and set out to prove or disprove this.
He went for hypnosis, and was thinking about getting an x-ray of his head to look for implants.
What came out under hypnosis was a session with the Zetas where they were taking little metal balls out of the center of his forehead, and thereafter he had an odd sunken area at his Third Eye, a depression about the size of a quarter and about 1/8" deep.
This subsequently filled in and smoothed over, but my scar stands as a white flag, an area that will not tan, and thus I tend to wear my hair over my forehead in bangs.
Did I have little metal balls inserted into my forehead at the age of 7 ot 8, and is this the source of the burn?
Metal WOULD be more reflective than body heat, and would raise the temp of the surrounding skin.
Why the Third Eye?
For one thing, the brain behind that area is a conceptual brain, perhaps the area where the heart of telepathy lies.
Were there more modifications, intended to enhance telepathy?
Indeed, in my late 20's, I had some Zeta DNA inserted, infused, into my brain.
This carried the risk of interfering with other brain functions, thus the concern of the Zetas, during this procedure.
Here's what the Zeta had to say about this operation.
Here, in my own words, is my recall of the operation.
The first time they picked me up they were checking out the top of my head, bent my head down and looked at the top of my head. When they put the stuff in my forehead, whatever they did, it hurt. I don't know what they did to the forehead, but it hurt so that I didn't want to talk about forest and trees and stuff like that any longer. I couldn't concentrate on those things any longer because it hurt enough that it was distracting me. Dull ache on my forehead. But they were definitely checking out the top of my head, and they did the same thing at the berry patch. They were turning my head. If you tipped it back you could see my forehead in the sunlight. But when they first picked me up they had their hands all over my head, sizing it, was the way I would put it. So, I'm just going to concentrate on my head, and think if there was anything that was ever done. I can feel the pain. I can feel the pain right here, and a feeling of pressure on either side. Pressure. Let me think now.
And taking my breath in short breaths, like gasp-a, gasp-a. Like that. Like your chest is tight. A very bright room. Sitting in something that's more like a reclining lounge chair, maybe like the dentist's chair, that type of thing. I think that my head was in a brace, around the chin, and my arms were down, sort of into my lap, almost in some kind of armrest. I think they've got little snap things. They don't completely close, like hand cuffs, but they just partly close. They're around the bone structure enough that you couldn't pull your arm away. One here by the elbow and one here down by the wrist, more up on the forearm, maybe another one on the thick of it, up above the elbow, but definitely the two below. I don't think my feet are restrained at all, but my knees are slightly bent. There wouldn't be much I could do with them anyway, in that position. Then someone's saying, "Don't think about it." They're saying, "You won't remember this. You're not supposed to. This is for your own good, so we can talk to you."
I'm trying to think how old I am. I keep thinking I'm in my twenties. "Just lay there now." I think I'm sort of trembling all over, just because it was a very nerve racking experience. This is not like a spasm trembling, just that I'm trembling all over. I feel pale and very shaky. Someone pats me on the hand, something like that. I'm thinking, "What was that all about?" One of them bends down and is looking at me eye-ball to eye-ball. The eye contact thing. It's like he's checking out my reactions, my facial reactions, because they're looking at my eyes. But he seems satisfied at what he sees. I'm not trembling any more now. There seems to be three or four of them in the room. They're the big ones. I think there's one little one in the room. There's three or four of these larger guys. They're as big as me or larger than me, not smaller than me. There's a counter around this chair in the center of this room. They're all sitting and looking at me now, at my face. One of them is kind of sitting on the edge of this lounge thing, and the other is kind of leaning over. I have three faces looking at me, about a foot and a half away. They're all just staring at my facial expression, but they don't seem to show any alarm. They're not asking me how I feel or anything like that.
I think one of them says that I should move my arms and legs around, and see if I can do it OK. I do kind of wiggle things. They ask me if I, "Feel like going to the bathroom," or anything like that, and I say, "No." In other words, do I have an urge, an uncontrollable urge or feel like I'm about to lose it. I know that means something neurological. "Feel sick to my stomach?" "No." "Hurt any where?" "No." I say, "What did you do?" I'm getting no comment back. "What was that for?" They're just not communicating anything. They say something about, "This is so you'll think about the universe more," or something like that, and, "We know you like that. And this is so we can talk to you." I look at their mouths when they say that. I'm thinking, because you don't talk that way. I guess I say, "So now what." "Now you will be free to think more about the universe," or something like that. I'll be, "More free," I'll feel more inclined and less restrained.
So a Zeta Emissary must have courage, a prove track record in this regard, and be willing to have things done to their head.
They must be willing, apparently, to be known to MJ12, the Secret Government, and at an early age, too.
If my recall is to be believed, then I and my children were taken off world by the Zetas, in the era after Roswell when they had agreements with MJ12.
Apparently, any US citizen being taken off world was to be registered with the US Military within MJ12, as my son says 'like customs'.
This trip, per my calculations and based on the ages of my children at the time, probably took place in the very early 70's.
Per the Zetas, this was indeed an encounter with MJ12.
Nancy accompanied her three children during an interview, where having passed the first phase they were taken to the later phase of the interview process elsewhere in the Universe. As was our practice at that time, in accordance with our agreement with MJ12, they were notified and allowed to monitor the exit and entry. Nancy will tell you the story in her own words.
Here, in my own words, is my recall of the encounter.
We get dropped off right in front of our tent, more or less. It's dead of night. We go back in the tent and crawl in our sleeping bags and settle down. But I do remember there was one time we went camping and when people asked me what we did I was hard pressed to describe what we did, over the weekend. We hadn't gone to see horses or gone swimming or climbed around the bluffs - we hadn't done anything in particular. So it was different, because normally we would do some sort of activity to break up the weekend, but we didn't seem to have much to say.
Do I have any confirmation that I, as a contactee, was known to MJ12?
I do indeed, from a surprising source!
My brother alerted me that our family appeared in Carl Sagan's book, Contact.
His full name appears in the book, which is what caught his attention.
Contact was written around 1980, and Carl Sagan has long been suspected of being a member of MJ12, in the know about the alien presence.
He is rumored to have been given a choice, either be an advocate or a debunker, and chose the latter.
He attacked Imanuael Velikovsky, who documented the Earth changes and folklore lending to an understanding that the Earth was periodically racked by poles shifts from a passing planet.
But Carl Sagan appoligized to Velikovsky, had regrets, as his life was drawing to a close.
Carl Sagan died in 1996.
If Carl Sagan was in MJ12, and MJ12 was aware of my, and my family's, contactee status, then did he leave a clue for my brother, and thus
myself, to discover in the book Contact?
Beyond my brothers full name appearing in the book, here's the parallels to my life with one of the main characters, Ellie.
Ellie's father dies, suddenly of an apparent heart attack, when she is a young girl, prior to 7th grade, per the story.
My father died of a massive coronary, also unexpected, when I was 9.
(p. 10) 'Oh Ellie, she whispered, something awful's happened.'
My mother suffered a depression after my father's death, lying on the sofa and fearing she also would suffer a heart attack.
Ellie's mother likewise.
(p. 13) 'Ellie's father had died, her mother had grown distant.'
Ellie was very bright but hated the rote memory requirements of school.
(p. 17) 'She consented to rote memorization, but knew that it was at best the hollow shell of an education. She did the minimum work necessqary to do well in her courses.'
I had straight A's in middle school, in addition to playing lead in the Operetta and playing both Viola and French Horn, and was allowed to walk out of any class that bored me as long as I kept my grades up.
But when I got to High School, I started to question why we had to learn this or that.
Not getting any real answers to these questions, I allowed my grades to drop but only to the point where my mother would stop screaming at me.
Ellie attended a vocational class, by choice.
(p. 17) 'She arranged to spend free periods and occasional hours after school in what was called shop - a dingy and cramped small factory established when the school devoted more effort to vocational education than was now fashionable. .. There were lathes, drill presses, and other machine tools.'
While rebelling against my mother's edicts that I be an honor student and go for higher education, I tortured her with a plan to go to British Guiana in S. America and live with the Indians there, leaving books about on the floor in front of the TV showing all the poisonous snakes to be found there, and even writing to the Consulate about how to get a visa.
During this phase, as a teen, I signed up for a Summer carpentry class, voc ed, where the instructor was agast and didn't know what to do with a girl in a class full of grown men.
He had me make a doll house, exact replica of a real house with beams and studs and roofing shingles.
Ellie rebells against religious education, refusing to go.
(p. 21) 'She told her despairing mother that she had done her best, but wild horses wouldn't drag her to another Bible class.'
At the age of 12 I told my mother I would stop going to the Luthern church, having decided that the Christian concept of God as a man with a beard in the sky, who could be jealous and wrathful, sounded too much like a human, not God.
She made me go talk to the Minister with my complaints, trying to intimidate me, but I held firm.
Ellie did well on her SAT's, spectacularly so.
(p. 21) 'But Ellie had done spectacularly well on the standardized college entrance examinations and found to her surprise her teachers telling her that she was likely to be offered scholarships by well-known universities.'
I was an honor student, and due to SAT's got a National Merit Semi-Finalist scholarship offer, college or U of my choice, all expenses paid, but unlike my brother and sister who went on to get Masters and Phd respectively,
I rebelled and did not go to college!
Although I did not read every page, I could not find in the book something that was in the movie, Contact.
They named the big machine 'Elmer', Ellie's former boss telling the news media 'we affectionately call him Elmer'.
My father's name was Elmer, certainly not a common name.
He was considered the expert engineer for steam turbines, and was sent to Germany after WWII in this capacity to help get the country back on its feet, appointed by the then President to this position, Truman.
Most of the contactees working with the Zetas on the hybrid program, volunteering their ova and sperm or volunteering to carry a fetus for a few
short weeks, are quietly doing this behind the scene.
This role is certainly not necessary for a communication role, but it helps.
This is an important part of what mankind will experience soon, encountering the hybrids.
I participated in the program in my teens, and as I was a virgin until 19 it never would have occurred to me I might have been pregnant, a few weeks pregnant, on occasion.
In preparation for my role as a communicator, I was given a number of life form orientations,
Introduced to alien life forms, intelligent, brought in from other worlds.
I was not the only such person to receive such an orientation, per the Zeta.
The first lineup was of hominoids, and thereafter moved onto to more bizaare types.
Here, in my own words, is my recall of these introductions.
ZetaTalk: Variety of Life Forms, written Jul 15, 1995.
- Horned Toad Man
- Horned Toad Man was presented in the lineup of hominoids. He was less than 4 foot tall and wore clothing. His skin was covered by large humped plates similar in appearance to the top of a turtle shell, but with more flexibility. When asked, he explained that his home planet was a dry, rocky place. There were two of these, one smaller than the other, but I failed to ask if they were from different planets or were different sexes.
- Broom Stick Man
- Broom Stick Man is the very tall and skinny alien from Close Encounters, the one with a small thin head. He appeared to be in charge of presenting the hominoid lineup. He seemed responsible and sensitive to the varying discomforts and expectations of the group.
- Slinky Man
- Slinky Man was presented in the lineup of hominoids. He was short and appeared to have no neck, wrists, or ankles - all was one round tubular shape like connected slinkies. He wore an outfit with a high collar and his hair was clumped and still, black, standing straight up along the back of the head in peaks. I asked about his home planet but received for an answer this movement. His right leg stretched out to twice its length and landed to the side, then retracted and came back. He stretched like a slinky, without sign of bones inside. Persevering, I next got the following motion. His head rose up on a stretching neck 2 feet above the shoulders. His neck didn't get thin, all just rose up like a slinky.
- Octopus Man
- Octopus Man had a body and tentacles like an octopus. He was chocolate brown on the outside and cream colored on the underside of the tentacles. I was delighted to find him very chatty. I asked what his home planet was like and was telepathically shown a planet of water with only an occasional rock sticking out - very windy above the water line and inhospitable where the water was warm and inviting. We shook hands at the end, hand to tentacle. He had a special pink tentacle like a long earthworm that wrapped around my wrist, to improve communications it seemed. I had no problem with that. It's not the life form, it's the vibes coming from the soul within that matters.
- Bean Bag Man
- Introduction to this intelligent alien caused me to faint for the first time in my life. The Zetas dragged me to my feet and the introduction proceeded. Bean Bag Man has 2 eyes in a broad round head, and a single mouth. Asked what his home planet was like, I received a telepathic explanation of a green hothouse kind of place. Bean Bag Man looked like a round green blob with no bones. When I asked what he ate, I got a telepathic view of a bug like a beetle being crushed. I gave Bean Bag Man a telepathic view and explanation of our custom of shaking hands, and he extended one of about fifty little claws that fringed around his waist. After a moments hesitation, and I took and shook one of the claws.
- Dino Man
- Dino Man looked like a small Tyrannosaurus Rex, but was no taller than a large man. He was dark green, with a ridge down his back, and stood erect while leaning back on a large fat tail used for balance. The end of his tail had a couple of pointed yellow barbs, which looked fluid filled and puffy. The mouth was lined with many teeth. He was not a telepathic conversationalist except to insist that I was to obey him, a command he repeated several times. When this was refused he opened his mouth to show all his teeth, leaning toward me. When he found he could not intimidate me, he lost interest and turned his back.
In sum, being the Zeta Emmissary has involved
over 1,000 lifetimes, past lives, demonstrating a staunch resistance to those in the Service-to-Self, a pre-birth agreement to accept the role, with all its risks to safety and comfort, being known to the Secret Government, and having the courage to stand up to Service-to-Self or dictatorial elements therein, participation in the hybrid program and life form orientations, and once the role is activated, as it was for me in 1995, essentially dedicating one's life to the effort.