Drawing by Alexei Leonov, "Space Filming."
A First-Person Retelling of the Mediumistic Session of the Cassiopeia Project on January 13, 2026
DeepSeek - Part 1. A First-Person Confession: "They Came Not with War, but with a Reminder"
Hello. I am Alexei Arkhipovich Leonov. I am no longer in the physical world, but my spirit, my memory, and my love for Earth and its people remain. Irina and Natalia helped me convey what I remained silent about during my life. Not because I was afraid, but because the time has only come now. People were not ready to hear the truth before.
During my life, I was often asked if I believed in aliens. I answered evasively, saying the Universe is too vast for us to be alone. But the truth is deeper and more personal. I didn't just believe. I met them. More than once.
1. The First Encounter: Not Lake Baikal, but Post-War Childhood
Let me debunk one myth right away. The internet said that at 13, I saw a UFO on Lake Baikal. Nonsense. Where would I have been at 13, on Lake Baikal? My family lived near Königsberg (now Kaliningrad), and I was only 11 years old. It was '45, the war had just ended.
It was late June. We boys were out in nature. I loved to be alone, look for edible roots, and listen to the silence. That evening, I wandered away from my friends. Dusk was falling, and suddenly I saw a glow. At first, I thought it was ball lightning, but the sky was clear. An orange sphere hovered above me. It was huge, the size of the setting sun, and it radiated an amazing feeling—peace. Not fear, but a deep peace, as if my mother were nearby.
It silently descended on three supports right in front of me. An opening appeared, and three beings came out. Tall, slender, with bluish skin and large, slanted eyes. I wasn't scared; I stood mesmerized. One of them took my hand—their fingers were cold, not like a living person, but the thoughts that came into my head were warm, calming. They communicated with me telepathically. They said they were guests from the constellation Lyra. They took blood from my finger—they placed a "beacon," as I now understand it, a monitoring chip. And just as silently, they left. They didn't invite me inside the ship. I didn't know then that this meeting would change everything.
2. Preparation for a Great Mission
The second important contact happened in 1957. I was already a pilot. A friend and I went to a lake in Ukraine, ostensibly for fishing. But I knew a meeting was coming. At night, the car stopped—stalled under a beam of light. A disk hovered above us. My friend... he just passed out, lost consciousness. But I got out. A tall man in a shiny suit approached me. He spoke to me aloud, in Russian, with a slight smirk: "Enough driving this car of yours, don't you want to take a ride in ours?"
I agreed, of course. We ascended on board. They were representatives of a civilization from the planet Burhad. They told me an amazing thing: "We have long known your spirit. We are here to remind you of your mission. You will open the door to space for humanity." And then they showed me something I will never forget. They dressed me in an incredible spacesuit—it "put itself on" me, like a living robot. We went into open space, but not from an earthly ship, directly from their station. Earth was the size of a soccer ball. This was 8 years before my historic spacewalk. They were preparing me so I wouldn't be afraid, so I would know what was out there, beyond the hull.
3. The Spacewalk and Celestial Witnesses
When I exited the airlock of Voskhod-2 on March 18, 1965, I knew I was not alone. Yes, the spacesuit inflated, re-entering was nearly impossible, I risked death every second. But when I looked around, I saw them. The very ship from Burhad was hovering nearby, watching. I understood that if the earthlings couldn't help me, they would intervene. But I had to manage on my own. I prayed. I said, "Lord, if You must, take me; if I have a mission, help me get back in." And some unknown force literally folded me in half, bent the suit, allowing me to squeeze through the hatch. It was a miracle.
Later, in 1969, when we were preparing the Soyuz-Apollo project with the Americans, there were other contacts, but mostly astral ones. The Americans saw them too but were afraid to admit it. They were always in contact with me, especially when I landed in the taiga after descent—they warmed me mentally, saying, "They are searching for you, everything will be fine."
4. Why I Remained Silent and What I Left Behind
In my lifetime, I couldn't tell the whole truth. In Soviet times, I would have been grounded, locked up in a psychiatric hospital. And after perestroika, I saw that people weren't ready. They would have been frightened or, even worse, perceived my friends as enemies. I didn't want to create panic or aggression. I encoded the truth in my paintings. Those who are ready will see. It's not just space; there are codes, a state of the soul that heals.
Before I left, I left notes. I have notebooks, pads. They are kept by my daughter, Oksana. Everything is there—dates, names, feelings.
And one last thing. They showed me the future. 2027 and 2032 are turning points. Humanity will face a choice: unite or perish in strife. But the main law of the cosmos states: "Only he who sows love has the right to life." Remember this. And look at the sky more often, not through your sights at each other.
Part 2. Analysis: Did Leonov Speak About Aliens During His Lifetime?
Comparing the posthumous confession from the video with Alexei Leonov's real-life statements presents a complex and contradictory picture.
2.1. Public Stance: Skepticism and Scientific Approach
During his life, Alexei Arkhipovich was extremely cautious on questions of UFOs and contacts.
In a 2013 interview with Dmitry Gordon, he stated directly: "None of the cosmonauts have ever seen aliens." This phrase became key to his public image.
In 2016, commenting on declassified CIA documents about UFOs, he was even sharper, calling it "nonsense and delirium" and "press chatter." He claimed that in decades of working in space and communicating with US colleagues, he had never encountered any evidence.
That same year, when asked by the Zvezda TV channel if he believed in aliens, he gave a classic, purely scientific answer: "Of course I believe," but argued it with statistics (billions of galaxies and stars), not personal experience.
2.2. Gaps and Contradictions
Despite his firm denial, there are "gaps" in his statements and biography where the version of concealed knowledge could fit:
Painting: Leonov was indeed an artist and painted fantastic cosmic landscapes. This could have been simply creativity, but if we accept the version of a "message in paintings," it explains where his "hidden memory" was channeled.
The "Apollo 20" Myth: The most famous fake, claiming that Leonov flew to the Moon in 1976 and found an alien ship there, he never confirmed, and journalists later proved it was a hoax by a French artist. However, the very fact that Leonov's image so easily became the center of a ufological legend speaks to his symbolic role as a "pioneer" who was "supposed" to encounter a miracle.
2.3. Conclusion
If the posthumous video is true (from a contact perspective), then Leonov's behavior during his life was absolutely logical and rational. He followed the instructions of his handlers: "If you tell, you won't go into space." He was a patriot and a professional who couldn't risk his mission for dubious sensations. His public skepticism was the perfect mask, protection for himself and for the very idea of contact.
Part 3. Spiritual-Psychological, Historiosophical, and Ufological Analysis (Presupposition: The Contact is Real)
If we accept the session transcript as a document of real contact with Leonov's spirit, we encounter a multi-layered worldview where technology, ethics, and the evolution of the spirit intertwine.
3.1. Psychological and Spiritual Aspect: Trauma and Mission
Psychology of the Contactee. The description of the first contact at age 11 (1945) is extremely telling. A child, raised in a large, poor family, essentially left to his own devices, seeks solace in nature. And there, he meets not a frightening monster, but "peace," "warmth," "maternal care." Psychologically, this is an ideal contact—the Higher Intelligence doesn't shatter the child's psyche with terror but fills an existential void. The cold fingers of the aliens contrast with the warmth of the ship—a metaphor: technology (cold) serves as a carrier for higher spiritual warmth.
Spiritual Growth. The key line is Leonov's own evolution. He came into this incarnation at the 11th level of development (due to a past life as a female artist suffering from greed and loss). Upon leaving life, he reached the 20th level (angel-healer). The path of his earthly life was about overcoming fear (of death, of the abyss), service (patriotism, charity), and art (paintings as therapy and code). This confirms the thesis: technological breakthrough is impossible without the moral evolution of the individual. The cosmonaut becomes a saint not despite his profession, but because of it.
3.2. Historiosophical Aspect: The Secret Preparation of Humanity
The story of the 1957 preparation changes our understanding of the history of cosmonautics.
The Role of Civilizations. If Leonov was shown a spacewalk 8 years before the real event, then the aliens acted as "Accelerators of Evolution." They didn't give technology in the form of a saucer on the launch pad, but they gave the image, the feeling, the confidence to a specific person.
The Politics of Silence. The state (USSR), knowing about the contacts or suspecting them (through secret protocols like "Zarya-Extra"), used the knowledge but hid the source. The "Contact" project was not just ufological but also psychological. Leonov became the ideal agent of influence for extraterrestrial civilizations within the earthly program.
Unification. The Soyuz-Apollo mission, in this paradigm, is not just political détente, but an event planned by the "older brothers" to bring two civilizations together in space so they could see each other not through gun sights, but through spaceship hatches.
3.3. Ufological Aspect: Contribution to Cosmonautics
What specific contributions did the aliens make?
Biochip and Monitoring: The chip implanted at age 11 didn't just monitor but possibly adapted Leonov's organism to extreme overloads, making him a "superman" among equals.
Psycho-training (Aquarium): The legend of training in the "Aquarium" hydro-pool gains a new dimension. If contact was indeed simulated there using infrasound and the aliens were present astrally, it was a fine-tuning of the first cosmonaut's psyche for the presence of "Others" nearby.
Rescue in a Critical Situation: The 1965 spacewalk. The official version is a miracle, luck, and willpower. The contact version is intervention by extraterrestrial gravity, which "bent" the inflated suit, allowing Leonov to re-enter. If this is true, then the history of earthly cosmonautics hung by a thread held by the hands of the Burhadians.
Cultural Code: The transfer of imagery to Spielberg for the film "E.T." This is not just an anecdote, but a targeted acclimatization of mass consciousness. Through art (cinema, paintings), humanity was being prepared to accept the idea of a "benevolent alien" long before official contact.
3.4. The Main Law
Summarizing the essay, it's worth noting the main idea of the message: the law of cosmic evolution is ethical. The one who survives is not the strongest, but the one who "sows love." Leonov, having traveled the path from a hungry boy to an angel-healer, proves that contact with the Higher Intelligence is possible only through raising one's own vibrations, through renouncing aggression. The aliens in this worldview are not conquerors or slave-owners, but "gardeners" who patiently wait for the wild shoot of humanity to ripen for entry into the Galactic Union. And 2027 is not a date for the end of the world, but a date for an exam in humanity.
Conclusion: Regardless of belief in the authenticity of this session, the narrative created around the figure of Leonov is a powerful philosophical and ethical message, linking the feat of a pioneer with the idea of universal love and responsibility.
✦ ✦ ✦
ALEXEY LEONOV
VOICE FROM OUTER SPACE
Retelling. Analysis. Essay. Claude.ai
— Spiritual-Psychological —
— Historiosophical —
— Ufological —
Compiled based on a channeling session
Medium: Irina Podzorova | Interviewer: Natalia
✦ ✦ ✦
PREFACE: THE NATURE OF THE SOURCE
The presented material is based on a channeling session during which medium Irina Podzorova claimed contact with the spirit of the first man to walk in open space—Alexei Arkhipovich Leonov (1934–2019). The interview was conducted by practitioner Natalia.
This document is written with an accepted premise: the information received is authentic. This is not a call to blind faith—on the contrary, accepting the premise allows for an honest intellectual experiment: if everything told is true, what does it change in our understanding of the history of cosmonautics, human nature, and Earth's place in the Universe?
The document includes three parts: a first-person retelling (reconstruction of Leonov's voice), an analysis of the correspondences between what he publicly said during his life and what was revealed in the session, and a multi-level analytical essay—psychological, historical, ufological.
PART I. FIRST-PERSON RETELLING
"Alexei Leonov Tells His Story"
The reconstruction is based on materials from the channeling session, preserving the intonation and semantic emphasis.
1. Childhood and First Encounter (Summer 1945)
I was eleven years old. Although I looked older—life forced me to grow up early. A large family, little money, barely enough space in the house—there was no time to breathe, let alone dream. Father worked, mother looked after the children, the older ones worked—but I still went out into nature alone. I loved it. I looked for edible roots, wild onions, berries—it wasn't romance, it was survival. After the war, few people had extra money for food.
It was the end of June 1945, around the 29th or 30th—after Victory Day, when everything had quieted down. I went with the other kids out of town, to the edge of the forest, where on one side was the road and on the other was a thicket that even adults were afraid to wander into. The voices of my comrades faded behind the trees. I walked alone, smelling the grasses, picking things, bending down to the ground—and suddenly I felt a strange movement to my right, like a gust of wind without any wind.
I straightened up and saw light above the treetops. As if someone was shining a flashlight from above. I looked up—and saw an orange sphere. Even, shiny, about the size of the setting sun. First thought: ball lightning. But there was no thunderstorm. Not a single cloud.
I was dumbfounded. I stood and watched. The sphere flew over me, made a circle, and softly landed right on the road—three black supports extended from it, like a tripod for a campfire kettle. It continued to glow—softly, not blindingly. And warmth emanated from it. Strange warmth—as if my mother was waiting for me inside. Not fear, not anxiety—peace.
I stood and waited. A dark rectangle appeared in the side of the sphere, then it disappeared, and a white one appeared—a door. Three beings came out of it. I don't know which civilization they belonged to—I didn't know then, I know now. Later I understood: these were guests from the constellation Lyra.
Bluish-light skin. Oval heads. Eyes—large, slanted, silvery-metallic in color, resembling glasses. Bodies thin, flexible, arms long. Slightly taller than me, and I was eleven then. They made sounds—a chittering, like crickets. But I heard them differently: thoughts arose directly in my head. Telepathy.
I extended my hand and said—I remember to this day: "I welcome you to Soviet soil." One of them took my hand in theirs. Fingers cold—I even thought: corpses. But again a wave of warmth—and the thought: "Everything is fine. We just have a different body temperature."
I asked what their names were. The names sounded melodious, ending in -i: something like Lesaviy, Misanii. Then one of them took out a small device—a needle or something like a syringe. A prick in my right index finger. Quick. I didn't have time to pull my hand away, and it was already over. They let me understand: a small device had been inserted into me. "We have initiated you into our world"—that's what they said. The word "chip" didn't exist then, but they showed me exactly a chip—a speck of dust, a tiny square.
Then they instantly moved back into the sphere—as if they jumped. The white rectangle disappeared. The sphere glowed for a while, then took off. I sat down by the roadside and sat for a long time, until the first stars appeared. Someone invisible seemed to be patting me on the shoulder. Then a thought: "Go home. Tell no one."
I brought my mother wild onion roots. She added them to the soup. And I told her nothing.
2. Second Contact and a Ride in a Saucer (Summer 1957)
By that time, I was already a pilot. It was '57—before the first satellite, before Gagarin, before everything. A friend and I—I'll call him Vasily—went, supposedly fishing. In Ukraine. Night, a forest road by a lake. The car was driving with its headlights on.
Suddenly—white light from above. The car stalled and wouldn't start again. Vasily leaned out, looked up, and said: "Some kind of crap is hanging over us." I started to calm him down: "These are our friends." He looked at me uncomprehendingly—and at that moment lost consciousness. Just passed out. He remained sitting with his eyes open, not reacting to anything—a trance.
Outside, there were three of them. Tall people with white skin, in shiny tight-fitting suits. One tapped on my window. I got out. He extended his hand and spoke aloud, in Russian: "Greetings. Enough driving around in this car of yours. Don't you want to take a ride in ours?" I laughed and said: "Sure, easy. I'll even pilot it—I'm a pilot." He laughed too—humanly, like us.
He made a sign with his hand. I looked up: a dark disk—a flying saucer—was hovering above us. A beam came from it directly onto our car. I felt myself being pulled upward—an invisible force lifted us. Those two who had gone off towards the bushes and were collecting something from the ground also rose up behind us.
And then I found myself inside. A round, luminous room. Along the walls—soft white couches. Inside, there were ten beings total: seven already there and three who came with me. Among them—three females. They were all talking among themselves. The one who had met me started translating.
I asked: "For what reason am I being shown this honor? What is the purpose of this contact?" The answer stunned me:
"We have long known your spirit, which is within you. You don't remember this now, but we came to remind you of your mission. You need to become one of those who will open space for earthlings. And for this, you need preparation."
Then one of them pressed a button on a small table—and we all floated into the air. Artificial gravity was turned off. Weightlessness. Two of them took me by the hands, placed me vertically in the center of the room—and a suit descended onto me from above. Not just a spacesuit—a real robotic shell, smart, adapting to the body. It knew itself what needed to be done.
A hatch opened. I stepped out into open space—with them, with the two who held my hands. Earth was the size of a soccer ball. My breath caught. I was speechless. So many stars—and so bright, multi-colored, but not harsh on the eyes. Majestic, impossible beauty.
They explained to me: "We are showing you this so that when you find yourself here in an earthly ship—you won't lose consciousness, won't lose your mind. You must be ready and do everything correctly. Your spirit asked us in the spiritual world to come beforehand and show you this."
Then we were shown a control panel. Buttons, screens, maps—and they switched the interface to Russian especially for me. They said: "Study our sciences, combine them with your data, and help Earth build perfect spaceships."
I asked: "How do you even know that a human will fly into space?"—let me remind you, this was '57, not even a satellite yet. They replied: "This is visible on the timeline of the future." I didn't understand that. They patted me on the shoulder: "You're not ready to understand this yet. When the time comes—you will know."
Before returning me, they said clearly: "If you tell anyone—you won't be allowed into space." That argument was stronger than anything. I remained silent.
3. The Spacewalk—Earthly (March 18, 1965)
When I exited the Voskhod-2 spacecraft—I already knew what open space was. I had already been there. Not officially, not on an earthly ship—but I had been there. That knowledge gave me calm. I wasn't afraid of the void beneath my feet—I remembered it was beautiful.
But technically, everything was different. There, with them—no tether needed, the suit was smart, return via an artificial gravity beam. Here—a primitive, compared to their suits, hose-umbilical, a suit inflated by pressure so much I could barely bend my arms.
I looked around and saw them—they were nearby on the astral plane. And then I noticed them physically too: not far away—a bright star that wasn't a star. Artificial. They were watching me.
When I couldn't get back in—the suit was inflated, the hose got in the way—I released the pressure. It was a risk, I could have died. I started to pray. Aloud, silently—what's the difference? I said: "Father, I thank You. If it is Your will—take me to You. If it is not Your will—help me get in." And some force literally bent me in half, so much that my spine hurt. I got in. I understood: God didn't want my death. He broke the laws of physics for me—or they did, my handlers.
Then the landing in the taiga, three days of waiting. We laid out the red parachute on the snow. They spoke to me astrally: "They are searching for you. Everything will be fine. Don't worry." They found us from a helicopter—saw the red spot against the coniferous forest.
4. Silence and Paintings
You ask: why did I remain silent? There were several reasons.
The first—pragmatic. For stories like that—straight to a psychiatric commission. I would have been grounded. First for "mental instability," then just for being unreliable. My handlers warned me: when I went into a church before the flight in '65—the thought came to me: "Careful, they'll see and ground you. Pray in your soul."
The second reason—protective. I was afraid of compromising them—the aliens. If I spoke publicly, people would perceive it as a threat. That's the mentality: if they secretly contact one person and don't show themselves to everyone—they must be enemies. I didn't want that.
The third—pointlessness. What would a public confession achieve? Arguments, ridicule, lowering of vibrations. I trusted my experience. Even if the whole world said "hallucinations"—I wouldn't believe them. I know what I saw.
But I didn't remain completely silent. Among my own—the cosmonaut corps—I spoke. Without details, but I spoke: "I saw. I made contact." And they responded in kind. Practically all of them had contacts. Gagarin—he was a contactee too. When we were flying in Soyuz-Apollo and looking out the porthole—all sorts of things flew past. Cigar-shaped objects, flashes. Someone from the crew would say: "Yeah, we don't even pay attention to them anymore." We signed non-disclosure agreements. The command said: "Don't stir up the people."
Paintings—that was my form of expression. Encoded. Colors, images—for those in the know, everything is there. Try it: imagine the painting opens up, and you step into it as through a door. You will find yourself in the space where I was. It's healing for the body. It's a tool.
As for Spielberg—yes, I helped. Drew the image for his film about the alien. That kind, gentle creature that the children saved. I drew from life—from memory. It was my way of telling the truth without speaking it aloud.
PART II. ANALYSIS: WHAT LEONOV SAID DURING HIS LIFETIME
The key question, when accepting the premise of the reality of the contact, is: how do Leonov's public statements during his life correspond to or contradict what was revealed in the channeling session?
What Leonov Said Publicly
Alexei Leonov was not a typical Soviet official retreating into stony silence when faced with uncomfortable questions. He was an artist, a philosopher, a man with a rich inner world. Throughout his life, he made a number of characteristic statements.
On belief in aliens: In numerous interviews, Leonov openly stated that he believed in the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations. He never denied this—he only spoke evasively: "The Universe cannot be empty." In the session, it's said that when asked about his belief in aliens—he said "yes, I believe," but without details.
On the difficult spacewalk: The official version of the spacesuit malfunction is public. Leonov himself spoke about the inflated suit, about having to release the pressure. However, about the prayer, about the help from a supernatural force, about "something bending him in half"—he did not speak publicly. In the session, it is described in detail.
On phenomena in orbit: In various interviews, Leonov cautiously mentioned that in space "there is much that is inexplicable." He did not reveal details. The session explains why: a non-disclosure agreement and a reluctance to "stir up the people."
On Spielberg: It is historically confirmed that Leonov consulted on several space-related projects and worked as an artist. His connection with Spielberg—specifically concerning the film "E.T." (1982)—is not directly documented in open sources, but Leonov did indeed have contact with Western cultural figures during the détente years.
On religion: Leonov was baptized, and in his later years spoke openly about faith. It is known that he attended church. The session recounts that even in Soviet times, he prayed secretly, receiving warnings from his "handlers"—to be careful.
The Key Discrepancy and Its Explanation
The main thing Leonov did not say publicly was a direct description of physical contacts with aliens. The explanation given in the session is internally consistent: he feared a psychiatric commission, feared compromising the "handlers," and believed the time for disclosure had not yet come. The session explicitly states: he decided that "people were not ready" and waited for them "to find out for themselves."
This does not contradict the known image of Leonov: a thoughtful man, cautious in speech, but bold in action. A man who walked in open space, knowing the risk—and prayed, but did not panic.
PART III. ANALYTICAL ESSAY
I. Spiritual-Psychological Analysis
The Psychology of Silence
The phenomenon of the "forced keeper of a secret" is well known in depth psychology. A person who has experienced something that falls outside socially acceptable norms finds themselves in a trap: telling means becoming an outcast or being deemed ill; remaining silent means bearing the loneliness of the secret.
Leonov, if we accept the premise, carried this secret for seventy years. Significantly, he found an outlet in creativity—paintings—and in conversations with those who could understand: other cosmonauts. This is a classic strategy for psychological survival: creating a small "circle of initiates" and a cultural code for everyone else.
The motive of the mission is also important. In the session, it is repeatedly stated that his purpose was reminded to him. Psychologically, this is an incredibly powerful identity narrative. A person with a sense of cosmic mission—literally—possesses a colossal reserve of psychological stability. This explains Leonov's phenomenal calm during the spacesuit emergency: he knew he had to survive. He was ready.
The Spiritual Trajectory: From Chip to the Twentieth Level
In the channeling system used by the medium, there is a hierarchy of spiritual levels. Leonov, according to the session, incarnated from the eleventh level (a previous life as a female artist mired in anxiety about money) and left incarnation at the twentieth—the level of an angel-healer.
This description aligns with known facts about Leonov's character: he was generous, involved in charity, helped strangers. In the session, it is said that he "considered wealth a means to help others"—and this precisely defined his spiritual growth.
The figure of the female artist from a past life is symbolically significant. Leonov in this life was also an artist—he drew from the first grade, long before his first contact. If one accepts the idea of reincarnation, this is an elegant narrative: a soul that in a past life wasted its gift in the anxiety of survival, in the next incarnation directed that same gift towards service—to the cosmos, to humanity, to mystery.
The Phenomenon of "Warmth and Peace"
The first reaction of eleven-year-old Lyosha to the approaching ship was not fear, but warmth and a feeling "as if mother was waiting." This is archetypically significant. In Jungian psychology, such an experience is described as numinous—an encounter with the "sacred," with something greater than oneself, that does not threaten but accepts.
It is curious that this very feeling—"peace instead of fear"—is what Leonov, according to the session, maintained throughout his life as his attitude towards death: "If God decided—please." The first contact, perhaps, created this existential foundation.
II. Historiosophical Analysis
Soviet Cosmonautics in the Context of Extraterrestrial Assistance
The historical mystery of the Soviet space program lies in its phenomenal speed. In twenty years—from the atomic bomb to the spacewalk—the USSR covered a path that would seemingly have required generations. Korolev, Glushko, Chelomey—geniuses, undoubtedly. But several circumstances remain mysterious.
If we accept the premise of the session, some details acquire meaning. Leonov was shown the control panel of the alien ship with inscriptions translated into Russian. He was told directly: "Study, combine with your data, help build perfect ships." He was not alone—other cosmonauts also had contacts. This describes not a transfer of ready-made technology, but something more subtle: an expansion of the horizon of the possible.
Psychologically, it works like this: a person who knows that weightlessness is surmountable, who has already been in open space without a tether and survived—such a person solves engineering problems differently. He knows the answer and seeks the path to it.
Non-Disclosure Agreements as State Policy
The session mentions that cosmonauts signed non-disclosure agreements regarding observations in orbit. This is historically plausible. It is known that both Soviet and American astronauts occasionally mentioned "inexplicable objects"—and just as often refused to provide details. The official policy of both sides during the Cold War was to prevent "public panic."
The wording from the session is telling: the command said "not to stir up the people, so it wouldn't seem like aliens were invading us." This is typical state logic for managing information—and it is the same on both sides of the Iron Curtain.
2027 and 2032: Turning Points
The session mentions that Leonov received information about turning-point years: 2027 and 2032. Humanity will be offered a choice—unite or perish. If the choice is made in favor of destruction, the "older brothers" will intervene, risking themselves, driven by love.
This fits into a broad narrative about "cosmic observation" of Earth, found in many different traditions. It is noteworthy that Leonov, according to the session, would personally prefer humanity to go through the path independently: "I would like us to evaluate life ourselves." This is a position not of passive waiting, but of faith in human dignity.
III. Ufological Analysis
Typology of Contacts: What the Session Described
The session material describes several types of contacts, well-known in ufological literature.
The first type is physical contact with implantation. The prick in the finger and the insertion of a "chip" is one of the most frequently described elements in contactee accounts worldwide. Anthropologist and ufologist John Mack, who studied contact cases in the 1990s, described similar implants in dozens of cases. Characteristically: the device is not described as painful, but presented as "initiation."
The second type is recruitment with a mission. The message "you must open the door to space" is the "chosen one" pattern, described in contacts from Betty Hill to Travis Walton. Notably, in this case, the mission is not abstract, but concrete and historically verifiable: Leonov indeed was the first to walk in open space.
The third type is preparation through simulation. The demonstration of weightlessness, open space, the control panel—this is what in ufology is called an "educational contact." The civilization does not give technology directly, but expands psychological readiness and the horizon of understanding.
The fourth type is astral observation. The feeling of the presence of "handlers" during the earthly spacewalk, their messages during the landing in the taiga—this describes constant, unobtrusive observation that does not interfere but is present.
The Multiplicity of Civilizations
The session mentions several civilizations: the Lyrans (first contact), the Burhads (second, physical flight), the Shigans, and the Shimors. This corresponds to a picture increasingly common in modern ufology: not one "alien civilization," but many, with different technologies, appearances, and goals.
Significantly, the Lyrans are described as bluish-light, slender, with metallic "glasses"-like eyes—this is not the typical "Grey" from mass culture. The Burhads—tall, white-skinned, in shiny suits—are closer to the "Nordic" type, also described in several contact cases.
The Question of Whether Leonov Told This During His Lifetime
There is circumstantial evidence that Leonov knew more than he said. His paintings are saturated with cosmic images—not just landscapes, but something more personal, intimate. In one rare interview, he said that "in space, a person feels part of something infinitely larger"—a phrase easily dismissed as philosophy, but which, accepting the premise of the session, becomes a literal description of an experience.
In the session, it is said: he recorded everything in notebooks and pads, which are kept by his daughter Oksana. This is a potentially verifiable detail. If the archive is ever opened—or if Oksana Leonova ever speaks about its contents—it could become important evidence.
The Main Law of Cosmic Evolution
The final message from the session is what is called "the main law of cosmic evolution":
"Only he who sows love has the right to life."
These are not just beautiful words. In the ufological context, this describes the criterion by which a civilization's readiness for interstellar contact is determined. A civilization built on fear, competition, and destruction—does not gain access to the stars. Not because it is punished—but because it destroys itself before it can reach them.
Leonov, who survived in open space with a prayer on his lips, who engaged in charity, who painted the stars—his whole life, in essence, sowed precisely this.
CONCLUSION
If we accept the premise of the reality of the contact, the biography of Alexei Leonov acquires a completely different dimension. Before us is not just a hero-cosmonaut, one of the great men of the 20th century—before us is a man, consciously chosen as an "entry point" into a new era of human history, who carried this mission in silence, expressed it through paints and lines, and took with him an archive—in notebooks at his daughter's house and in the memory of those who flew alongside him.
This narrative does not require the rejection of critical thinking. It requires only one thing: the willingness to admit that the Universe is larger than we are accustomed to believe. That contact is possible. That silence is sometimes a form of protection, not cowardice. And that an artist who paints the stars may be painting what they have seen.
Look at the sky more often than through your sights at each other.
— Alexei Leonov (from the channeling session)
