THE NIGHT ENKI NAMED HIMSELF ~ Maui, Recognition, and the Nature of Telepathic Truth
By Janet Kira Lessin
with Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D.
After many years of searching for answers, searching for people who understood the terrain I had been navigating since childhood, and trying to find a framework large enough to hold what I had experienced, my life took another decisive turn in 1997, when I was forty-three years old and came to Maui to live with Sasha.
By then, I had spent decades trying to understand contact, memory loss, telepathy, reincarnation, consciousness, the beings who moved through my life, and the persistent feeling that a purpose lay behind experiences I could perceive only in fragments. Sasha and I had found one another after long and very different journeys, yet our interests converged around many of the same questions concerning consciousness, extraterrestrial contact, human origins, ancient history, and the beings remembered as gods.
Living together in Maui gave those questions a new center of gravity because, for the first time, I was building a life with someone who not only took the larger inquiry seriously but wanted to pursue it with me.
THE WHITE ROOM
During those early years together, I had a vivid lucid dream that remains one of the most emotionally powerful experiences of my life. I found myself entering an extraordinary white room that immediately reminded me of the mysterious room near the end of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Everything around me was so intensely white that the boundaries seemed to disappear, and I could not determine where the furniture began or even where I was supposed to sit.
Then I received a familiar kind of direction, not necessarily through audible words but through the unmistakable communication that had accompanied me through so much of my life. I understood that I was supposed to sit down.
I hesitated because I could not see anything beneath me and was afraid I would simply fall to the floor, but the reassurance came again with that calm certainty I had learned to recognize: just sit; you will not fall.
Eventually I trusted the communication, lowered myself into what seemed like empty space, and felt a seat beneath me. After a time, I became aware of a presence beside me.
“WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME WHO YOU ARE?”
I had felt presences throughout my life and had communicated with guides and other intelligences in ways that often left me with more questions than answers, but this time the old desperation rose again.
I had spent so many years wondering who stood behind some of these encounters, who had accompanied me, who knew me so intimately, and why the answer always seemed to remain just beyond reach.
So I began asking again. Why won’t you tell me who you are? Who are you? Why have you been with me all these years without simply telling me?
The question carried decades of frustration, curiosity, longing, and exhaustion. I had searched so long, and I wanted the answer.
Finally, I swear I felt something like a sigh, and then the answer came. “I’m Enki.” The recognition that moved through me was immediate and overwhelming.
Rather than shocking me, the answer produced an enormous sense of relief because something inside me responded before I could analyze it intellectually. Of course. Of course it was Enki.
The communication continued with the understanding I had always known, even when I could not consciously retrieve it. Yes, it is me. You have always known. I have never left you. I am always by your side.
Even writing about that experience now brings tears close to the surface because the emotional force of the moment came not from meeting a stranger but from recognition after a very long period of conscious separation.
From his perspective, there had apparently been no separation at all. What had been missing was my access to the memory of the relationship.
IT DID NOT FEEL NEW — IT FELT REMEMBERED
That distinction became one of the encounter’s most important lessons.
I had spent years asking a question that some deeper level of myself may already have known how to answer.
The information had not necessarily been absent.
Janet had been unable to reach it.
When the answer finally came, it did not feel like new information entering my awareness for the first time.
It felt remembered.
The response carried the same logic that had followed me through so much of my life, where guidance remained withheld until a larger timing allowed it to emerge.
The repeated message I had received for years — “it’s not time” — suddenly made more sense.
TELEPATHY IS NOT A CONVERSATION IN WORDS
The Enki encounter also clarified something I have struggled to explain: telepathic communication doesn’t operate for me like two people exchanging sentences.
The words I use afterward are translations.
During the experience itself, meaning arrives through a much richer field that can include thought, emotion, recognition, imagery, intention, memory, and what I can only describe as vibratory resonance.
The meaning often comes as a complete whole before language divides it into separate pieces.
When I say that Enki told me, “I’m Enki,” or “I have never left you,” I am translating into human language what arrived through that much larger field.
The communication was not merely verbal. It was recognition.
TRUTH HAS A RESONANCE
Within these expanded states of consciousness, truth feels fundamentally different from ordinary spoken communication. In everyday life, we hear words and then decide whether we believe the speaker.
In the state I was in during this experience, meaning and resonance seemed inseparable. I did not experience a statement first as a collection of words to evaluate intellectually. I experienced the underlying frequency of what was being communicated.
For me, truth has its own resonance, just as fear, love, recognition, concealment, and intention each carry their own distinctive quality. In that state of consciousness, deception would require something far more complicated than simply choosing false words because the underlying vibratory condition of the communicator is part of the message itself.
That is why the identification felt so certain to me. I did not reason my way toward Enki. I recognized him.
MAUI, SASHA, AND THE LARGER SEARCH
That experience took on even greater meaning because it happened after I came to live with Sasha in Maui.
For years I had searched largely from within my own experience, gathering memories, meeting witnesses, exploring consciousness, and trying to understand what the beings in my life had been showing me.
Living with Sasha changed the context because our relationship brought together my experiencer history, his background in anthropology and consciousness studies, and our shared work on the Anunnaki.
The encounter with Enki did not end my questions. It opened new ones. If he had truly been with me all along, then what part had he played in my earlier contact?
How did that relationship connect with the hybrid program? What was the relationship between Enki, Ninmah, and the larger structure of my simultaneous existences? How much had my higher self known that Janet had been prevented from remembering?
The answers did not all arrive at once, and some still have not, but the recognition itself became another piece in a pattern that had been unfolding throughout my life.
NINMAH, JOY, KIRA, AND SIMULTANEOUS EXISTENCE
As my understanding expanded, I also came to experience Janet, Joy, Kira, Ninmah, and other expressions connected with my greater self as simultaneous existences rather than as personalities sharing one body or a simple sequence of reincarnations moving one after another through linear time.
Each has her own form, memories, ideas, relationships, perspective, and vibratory frequency, while some may not even occupy the same dimension.
The greater self, as I experience it, can sustain all of these existences while ordinary awareness remains focused primarily within one of them.
My awareness, however, can sometimes shift. The closest analogy I have found comes from the film Being John Malkovich, although I do not experience myself as entering another person from outside. When the focus changes completely, the other existence becomes front row and center, and while I am there, I experience myself as that being.
The bodies do not need to merge, and no one needs to possess anyone else. Awareness shifts while the greater totality remains intact.
THE TOTALITY NEVER FORGETS
This is why I have come to believe that forgetting belongs to local consciousness rather than to the totality itself. Janet can forget, while the greater field of consciousness does not.
Experiences that appear lost may remain completely preserved outside ordinary access until the timing changes and awareness opens.
That understanding gives a new context to the Enki encounter because the recognition I felt in that white room may have emerged from a part of the totality that had always known him even while Janet spent years pleading for an answer.
The relationship had not begun that night. The conscious recognition had.
FROM ENKI TO CONTACT
The experience also became part of my larger understanding of Contact because it reinforced my belief that nonhuman intelligence cannot be reduced to beings traveling physically from one place to another.
Some Contact is physical, while some appears telepathic and some occurs through altered states, lucid dreams, dimensional environments, shifts in awareness, and forms of consciousness that do not fit neatly inside our current scientific models.
The Enki encounter belongs to that larger spectrum. I experienced him as a distinct intelligence, yet the communication reached me through a state in which thought, feeling, vibration, memory, and identity overlapped far more completely than they do in ordinary waking life.
That experience helped me understand why Contact and consciousness cannot be separated.
“I HAVE NEVER LEFT YOU”
The message that remains most emotionally powerful for me is not simply the name. It is the reassurance that followed. I have never left you. I am always by your side.
After a lifetime of searching, forgetting, remembering, questioning, and wondering who had accompanied me through so many experiences, the answer carried continuity rather than introduction.
That is why the memory still moves me so deeply. I was not meeting Enki. I was remembering him.
Perhaps that is also part of the larger process humanity itself is moving toward, because what we eventually call disclosure may not feel like the arrival of something completely foreign. For many of us, it may feel like recognition.
It may feel like remembering relationships, histories, and dimensions of consciousness that were never truly gone, because the separation may have existed primarily in our awareness while the connection remained present all along.
© 2026 Janet Kira Lessin & Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D. All Rights Reserved.
Minerva Monroe — Researcher/Contributor
