Ghost Hunting Part Two – The Ghost That Followed Us Home

The tour guide was only half kidding when she said “We aren’t responsible if any of the ghosts follow you home.”  It brought back memories of The Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.  I could almost hear the sonorous tones of the heavy male narrator’s voice from the ghostly Disney ride override the tour guide uttering the same phrase.  She added cheerily, “but if they do, please call us, we’d love to come investigate!”

No need, the ghostly lady in the back seat wasn’t the first to hitch a ride with us, and I’m sure she won’t be the last.  I can see and talk to the dead, and help them cross the veil to the other side if they are earthbound.  Hub and I were almost home when she made her presence known.  Thin, willowy, but too heavily scarred by sorrow to be called beautiful, the dead lady kept looking longingly at my husband from where she perched behind him in the car.  “My husband?  Where is my husband, and my baby?”  She asked repeatedly.  She was confused, didn’t understand how she was suddenly in this strange carriage, didn’t completely understand she was dead, and far out of her own time.

It took a little effort to get her attention, she was fixated on Hub, mistaking him for her long dead husband.  I reached out, snapping my fingers in front of her face and calling sharply to her.  When I got her to finally look at and respond to me, I got her story in an instant.  Husband and baby both sickened and died.  She wasn’t sure of what, just showed them to me as feverish and coughing.  She answered “Marie” when I asked her name, but kept reaching toward Hub with her insubstantial hands.  Her pain was a tangible presence in the car, she’d died of a broken heart.

“He’s not your husband.  He’s mine.  Your husband and baby are dead, and you are too.”  She turned big, pale eyes to me, uncomprehending.  “You are dead.  You’re a ghost, stuck here on the earthplane.”  I told her.  By this time we had arrived home.  Hub got out of the car, leaving me alone in it after he parked it in the garage.  Just me and the ghost.  Outside the car door, my chickens began to stir and cluck uneasily in their darkened henhouse.  It felt dark and heavy in the garage, as if the lights weren’t bright enough.

“I miss them so.”  She whispered.  “Why can’t I find them?  How did I get here?”  She was full of questions.  I don’t know how other mediums communicate with spirits, but I find it easier and truer if I stick to emotions and images with minimal words.  I show them what I mean.  So you’ll have to forgive me for translating some of those images, emotions and thoughts into sentences.  It makes an easier read and description of something that is sometimes difficult to transpose into words.

I also work very closely with my guides and guardian spirits.  I ask them to come close and aid the spirits I work with, easing their transition across the veil to home.  There in my garage, sitting in my car, I called in my guides and asked them to help locate this woman’s loved ones on the other side.  Marie continued to stare around the car and darkened garage, she was starting to get frightened and tune me out.  “Where did the man go?  Is that my husband?”  She continued to fixate on Hub.

“Hey, Marie.  I need you to listen to me for just a moment.”

“No.”  Indignant.  She didn’t want to listen to some random woman, she wanted to find her family.  I could understand that, but she wasn’t going to find them at my house.  “Why should I listen to you?”  Disbelief, scorn.  She sneered.

“I can try to help you find them, Marie.”  Again she turned those big, pale eyes on me.  Anger showed in them.  “You don’t know my husband.  I don’t know you.  Where am I?”  She was starting to get agitated, the atmosphere in the car darkened more, and it was hard to see out the windows.

When the spirits get upset, the only answer to their fear or anger is love.  I powered up my heart chakra, and offered her pure spiritual love.  I showed her I held only compassion for her and real desire to help.  “I want to help you, I want to try, and my guides want to help you too.”  Her expression of anger slowly melted, as she took in that I meant what I said, and that I wasn’t affected by her anger.

In Reiki II, my class learned a technique called the Bridge of Light.  It is a spiritual energy bridge offered to one who is about to die, or to spirits who have not yet crossed over.  For the dead, and the dying it eases their transition, and connects them with loved ones already on the other side of the veil.  I showed Marie the bridge, and offered the energy to her.  I offered her additional Reiki energy to help her heal her psychic wounds, and to help her retrieve the parts of her soul that she’d lost along the way.

Anger and mistrust dissolved.  “Truly?”  She was afraid to hope.

“Yes.”  I told her.  “And my guides mean it too.”  Marie touched the Bridge of Light with one foot, and her whole being lit up.  She took two steps, and smiled tentatively.  Her lips stretched wider as she followed the path laid out on the Bridge, aided by her own guiding spirits who met her and welcomed her before she’d traveled halfway across.  Her spirit lit brightly as the missing parts of her soul flew home to join her as she fully crossed the veil.

With an nearly audible pop, the atmosphere in the garage lightened.  It had a bright and sparkly feel, and the hens uttered soft coos as they settled back into sleep.  Marie blew me a light kiss and a thank-you as she joined her family on the other side.  I smiled and got out of the car.

“Everything okay?”  Hub asked as he threw the ball for our Lab to chase.  It glows in the dark, so she can find it at night.  I took a deep breath and looked around our yard, then back into the garage.  No ghosts.

“Everything’s just fine.”  I told him.

I’m pretty sure Marie was hiding in this room on the tour.

 

Weird Weekend – Modern Ghost Hunting Part One

Hub and I went on a Ghost Tour last weekend.  I love that sort of thing, and his daughter gave us a gift certificate for the tour for Christmas.  We were lucky it wasn’t raining, but cold and foggy, which gave the perfect atmosphere.

Just the history part made the tour worthwhile, but we made multiple stops at various famous downtown Seattle landmarks.  Like the Smith Tower.

Security guards tell of hearing furniture being dragged across floors above them, even in rooms where there is no furniture.  Shadows are seen flitting across monitor screens, security cameras catching movement on supposedly unoccupied floors.  In both cases, when the guards investigate, no one is on the floor.

We went into the lower level of the Merchant’s Cafe, the oldest restaurant in Seattle.  I immediately felt the presence of many spirits, especially in the bar area and the bathroom.  I saw a lady, dressed in vintage clothing stroll down the hall to disappear into the bathroom.  I followed, snapping pictures, then returned to hear the tour guide saying how a woman is often seen going into the bathroom.  I wanted to say, ‘Yes, I know’ but kept quiet.  The bathroom pics were not that impressive, although a faint orb is visible in one.  I had better luck with the bar.  I got a few funny looks from others on the tour, but I whispered to the spirits that I knew they were there, and I was going to take some pictures.  If they would like to appear in the pictures, that would be much appreciated.   I took two pictures with nothing, then got this one.

I know. Dust motes, it’s the quickest and easiest explanation.  Hub cleaned the lens thoroughly before we left for the tour, and it was closed unless I had it out taking pics.  I did get quite a lot of orb pictures, actually, and they are never in the exact same spot, so I’m quite sure it’s nothing on the lens itself.

I know.  It doesn’t preclude floating motes in the air.  With the three orbs in the picture above, I’m not 100% convinced they have a spectral origin.  These next two though, I’m pretty sure I captured the spirits who inhabit these portions of underground Seattle.

 

They are so bright and shiny, and I was actively communicating with the spirits in these locations at the time.  The only alteration I have made to these two pictures is to crop them to zoom in on the orbs.  The bar picture is completely untouched.

This was only my second time actively trying to communicate with spirits and capture it digitally.  I’ve had great luck so far and I’m looking forward to sharing them with you.  While nothing overt happened to Hub or I on the tour, I did make contact with several of the ghosts in the locations we visited.  Including the one that followed us home.  Stay tuned for that story!

My next time out, I’m going to try and capture some EVP’s.  What ever I get, I’ll be sure and share.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wild And Weird, But What Happened To The Mayan Apocalypse?

Oh the best laid plans…you know the end of that quote.  I had all these plans to get so much writing done on my time off!  Blog posts queued up, WIP work, but darn reality anyway, threw me for a huge loop.

On the 19th, I woke up early to blood spattered all over the downstairs.  No kidding.  It wasn’t exactly a bloodbath, but someone had a big problem.  My 13 year-old male kitty, Jasper, had a ruptured abscess.

I know, ick!  He’d given no sign of having any issues, so it was a complete surprise to me.  I had a crisis and a meltdown.  I thought it was something way worse and I was convinced I was going to have to put him to sleep.  I cried a lot, then my brain kicked back into gear and I was able to get Jasper a little more cleaned up and a better idea of what was going on.  By the time Hub got home from work to help me get him to the vet’s, I had stopped crying hysterically calmed down, and figured out that maybe it wasn’t as bad as I had originally thought.  Note to self:  It’s better to think things through before going straight to “He’s gonna die!”

Kitty came home from the vet’s that night, and I said many grateful prayers while I watched over him.  He was pretty weak the first couple days, and it’s a good thing I did have time off.  He wouldn’t eat or drink on his own.  He would drink water if I gave it to him in sips from a syringe.  He nibbled delicately at the baby food that I presented to him on a spoon, but would turn his head away after a bare half-teaspoonful.  Which meant I was spending an awful lot of time on the floor of my bathroom to keep him hydrated and fed.

Sleeping is what he’s best at.

Now we’re in the home stretch, and he is well on his way to a full recovery.  Yay!  Stitches come out Wednesday and my two weeks of keeping Jasper isolated from the rest of the animals can finally end.  His brother, Sage stands outside and paws at the door, missing his wrassling buddy.  Sister Magic, on the other hand, has appropriated Jasper’s favorite sleeping spot in his absence.  It will be good to finally be able to get things back to quasi-normal.

Then, it was the holidays.  Meh.  I just was not that into them this year, the commercialism seemed overdone and tacky.  I wasn’t even sure I would put up a tree, I was in such a bah humbug mood.  But Jasper on the mend seemed like the best present I could ask for, and I began to feel a bit more celebratory.  So when Hub put up the tree on the 20th, I put up the ornaments.

I did end up decorating the tree once Hub put it up.  Can you find Han Solo and Gene Simmons?

Then, there was visiting with the grandkids.  Let’s just say, I never knew how much fun it was to run and scream and race through the house wielding an inflatable sword while chasing down a three year-old.  It got better when youngest grandson would abruptly slide to a halt and reverse course to dash after me, screaming just as loud.  I let him catch me and beat me up with his own inflatable weapon… a mallet with who on it?  Thor of course!  Joy!  I haven’t had so much fun since I was a kid!  Writing anything was a distant second to running and playing with small children I haven’t seen in months.

But what about that Mayan Apocalypse?  Big Nothing? Or…?

Oh Mayan Apocalypse, you were hyped and feared, but where were you?  No asteroid slammed into the Earth, no massive pole shift rearranged the continents and, to my utter disappointment, no aliens appeared in the skies above.  Worst of all, NO zombies!  So what was it all about?

It doesn’t matter what everyone else said.  In short, the Mayans said this was the end of one age and the start of another.  Sure other ages had ended in cataclysms, but this one was different.  This one was about a spiritual change.  You can read about it yourself, in this interview with a Mayan Elder.

There were lots and lots of expectations and predictions about this date.  What was I expecting to happen though?  Nothing so Earth-shattering.  But I wanted to observe the solstice and the galactic alignment as a sacred day, so I took the 21st off.  (And I wanted to be home, just in case there were zombies!)

The winter solstice is a time of rebirth, renewal and sparking the sacred fire of creativity, and I treated it as such.  I did a little something that day of everything I want to achieve in the coming year; writing, gardening, eating better and exercising, taking better care of myself and opening myself to greater spiritual growth.

It worked.  I felt the shift within, and I felt my meditations, my awareness step up to a new level.  I felt that influx of energy from the universe and knew that everything I wanted was within my reach.  More, I realized that the only one holding me back was…me.

I’m not saying I’m suddenly this perfectly aligned, spiritual being.  Ha!  The one thing about this date that got left out of all the hype:  December 21st marked the shift, the end of one age and the start of the next.  It was never about instant enlightenment or instant change, but about one cycle ending and another one beginning.  ‘Beginning’ being the operative word in that sentence.  We are at the very start of something wonderful, but all change comes with a measure of chaos and upheaval.  This next cycle is about raising our consciousness, about tapping into all those wonderful abilities that are latent or sporadic and bringing them fully to fruition.   We have a very long way to go, but I feel confident we can all get there.

I found this meme making the rounds on Facebook:

I take great joy and hope from watching old, outdated systems of thought and behavior die away to be replaced gradually with ones involving more humane treatment of our ecosystems and ourselves, greater awareness of Spirit, and greater realization of just how powerful we really are.

How did it go for you?

Weird Weekend – Paranormal And Technology

I’m not a ghost hunter, and I confess I have a hard time watching paranormal investigative shows.  It seems like all you get is a bunch of people running around either shrieking, or saying  “Did you see/hear that?”  Conversely, I do enjoy scanning YouTube for clips put up by the multitude of paranormal investigation groups around the country.  Something entirely different, in my opinion.  These are groups devoted (for the most part) to serious study of, and recording, paranormal phenomena, and are not for-profit or ratings driven.

I have not been out with an official ‘ghost-hunting’ group; I get plenty of encounters on my own, but I have to confess to a curiosity and desire to travel with one of these groups.  They have a lot of gadgets and devices that can record, measure and otherwise detect paranormal activity.  I have no idea how these work.  Something that seems to be on the rise though is photos of ghosts where nothing is seen to the human eye.

I found this collection on YouTube:

The advent of security cameras, both motion-sensitive and continuous record, has brought us videos of objects moving, flashing lights, and unexplained shadows while establishments are closed, locked and unoccupied by the living.  Like this example of a ‘ghostly head’:

I particularly like this one, from Hampton Court Palace.  They even talk about him on their website, they’ve nicknamed him ‘Skeletor.’

Creepiness, right?  Or just a tour guide in period costume?  I think it interesting that the Palace website is vague about exactly what it is.  According to the website, however, this is a fairly active area for ghosts in general, with public and staff reporting sightings or encounters.

Sometimes they move things, as in this rather dizzying video posted by Mass Most Haunted of their investigation at the Lizzie Borden House.

Could they be faked?  Sure.  Could some of them be genuine?  I think so.  I leave it to you to determine which you find the most plausible.

I’m not much with a video camera, but something I’ve always wanted to try is EVP.  EVP stand for Electronic Voice Phenomena.  In short, you take a recording device, ask questions and then hear voices on the playback.  It used to be done with reel-to-reel and cassettes, but now digital voice recorders are used, also they are heard on playback from video recordings..

These were captured at the Chapel on the Hill in Sedona, Arizona.

Have you done any ghost hunting?  Have you ever captured something weird on video or in a picture that you didn’t see when you were recording?  What’s your scariest encounter?

Weird Weekend – Reincarnation

 

That word conjures up a lot, doesn’t it?  Have you ever discussed, or considered that you may have lived a life, or many lives before?  Some are vehemently opposed to it, for religious, non-religious or scientific reasons.  Some believe it’s a lie of the devil.    Others point to the fact that there are more people alive today than in the past.  Their rationale follows; if we’re living over and over again, why would population numbers rise?

The question is often framed as:  Do you believe is reincarnation?  Or:  Is reincarnation real?  Very loaded questions.  If you ask the first, well, the answer is predicated upon the belief system of the person being asked.  A devout Christian will likely answer in the negative.  A Buddhist will give you an absolute affirmative.  Both are following spiritual belief systems, both have very different views of what happens to a soul after physical death of the body it inhabits.

Similarly the question of ‘real’ is going to depend on the views of the person answering.  To someone who thinks the concept of the soul is nonsense, or just superstition, asking if reincarnation is ‘real’ will only gain you rolled eyes and perhaps a snort of derision.  People who only consider scientifically verifiable facts as ‘real’ are unlikely to spend much time pondering the reality of the soul, or it’s disposition after death.

What if ‘belief’ was not necessary?  What if this world that we think of as ‘reality’ is only a stage for learning life lessons?  What if ‘real life’ is really on the other side of physical death?

I was listening to the September 11, 2012 podcast of Coast to Coast AM recently.  The guest that night was Rich Martini, an author and filmmaker who has looked at past-life regression cases and the experiences people have between lives.  He has a film and a book called Flipside, where he interviews hypnotherapists trained by Dr. Michael Newton and examines their cases.  Dr. Newton developed the Life Between Lives hypnotherapy method to help people access their soul memory.

After regressing 7000 people, a number of consistencies arose in the stories of what happens after death.  A meeting with loved ones and spirit guides who comprise your soul group, a review of the life just lived, planning the next life to be lived, and making agreements with the others in the soul group on who is going to play what parts in the upcoming incarnation.

Mr. Martini frequently used the analogy that life on earth is like performing a play on a stage.  Everyone in your life has a role to act out; as in a well-plotted story, the villain has a purpose as much as the good guy, who frequently learns a valuable lesson through the conflict.  Who plays the good guy and who plays the villain is something that is predetermined before birth in the between life stage, and roles are often swapped in multiple lives.  We are given the stage, but not a script.

So many other questions arise.  What about good and evil?  Why do some people do bad things?  Why, if we ‘choose’ this life, would bad things happen in it?  The answer is 42 (thank you, Douglas Adams, where ever you are now).  The answer makes no sense, because you don’t really understand the question.  It can be very hard for those of us on this side of the veil to understand why bad things happen, however once on the other side, these reasons become clear.  We only really understand when we are between lives.

Personally, I have had a past life regression that had a dramatic impact on me.  I went with a friend one day, about twenty years ago to a group regression session.  A little background:  since I was a little girl (like 3 or 4 years old) I had this horrible fear of dying in a submarine.  I had recurring dreams about it.  On my first visit to Disneyland I flat refused to get on the Submarine Voyage until my parents pointed out the submarine never actually submerged.  I can still remember tearfully asking, “It never goes under water?”  Only that reassurance convinced me it was okay to get on the ride.

Fast forward to my past life regression.  I found myself in a German U-boat that was sinking fast from a near miss.  The crew was in utter chaos, shouts in German, blaring alarms and flickering, fading lights filled my vision.  Nothing could stop our descent to the bottom, and soon we were in pitch black.  The hull crumpled after we hit bottom, we had enough time to realize we were all going to die.  My last thought was of my wife and son, left behind, and I could see them waving goodbye to me.  It was at this point the group leader brought us out of the regression, and I was still in the midst of dying and remembering my family.  To put it simply, I lost it.  I sat up, crying, sobbing and hysterical.  I brought the whole group to a standstill, the leader had to come over to help me, and my friend was looking at me like I’d grown a second head.  I know you don’t know me, but I don’t get hysterical.  You can’t, when you’re working with animals that might kill you.  I don’t have panic attacks, and I certainly don’t break down in front of groups, I hate having that sort of attention directed at me.  Yet, there I was in full meltdown.  Fortunately, the group leader was experienced enough to help me out, and I calmed down.

I have never had a submarine dream since.   I can look at submarines now without feeling short of breath, where previously, just seeing them in pictures or a movie would make me feel like walls were closing in and I couldn’t take a deep breath.  That whole irrational phobia has simply evaporated.

Was I once a German sailor on a lost U-boat?  I would love to take another regression and see if I can find out more details.  Do you think you have lived previous lives?  Are you interested in finding out more?  Have you had a past life regression session?  Check out Wikipedia for a really good article with lots of links about real research into past lives, and regression therapy.

Weird Weekend – Werewolves? For Real?

You’re out hiking in the woods on a late summer evening.  The full moon is rising above the distant hills.  You can’t see it, but its brilliant silver light spills between the boles of the trees and the world around you is moving light and shadow.  The only sound is the rustle of your feet through the small green plants lining the forest floor and the wind sighing through the branches above you.

Off to your left, a bush shakes violently, and with a spray of leaves a massive creature leaps out onto the path in front of you.  It hunches on all fours, before slowly unfolding to a two-legged stance that towers over you.  The last thing you see as it lunges at you are its wolf-like jaws parting.

I confess.  I love the idea of being a shapeshifter.  Seriously, how fun would it be to be able to change into another creature?  Better than being dead, and still walking around.  If I had a choice between becoming a werewolf and becoming a vampire, well, I’d be werewolf all the way.  Frankly I don’t care how lively a vampire is, they’re still just a pretty zombie.  Enamored as I am of the werewolf mythos, I have always relegated it to the world of make-believe, or at least that it exists purely on the spiritual realm.  But what if it wasn’t?

I found this website, The Beast of Bray Road.  Linda Godfrey details on her blog and her websites about large creatures with manlike bodies and wolflike heads in rural Wisconsin and Michigan.  Multiple sightings, encounters, even a movie was made about these beasts, and Animal Planet talks about them.

Another version of Bigfoot, right?  Possibly. But then again, what is Bigfoot?  Lots and lots of theories have been put forth, including that these are dimensional creatures, able to shift back and forth between our reality and others.  I find these reports interesting, but I have no definitive views either way.  I heard Linda on Coast to Coast one night, and the sheer number of sightings was impressive, reported by people from all walks of life.  I do think our world is wider and wilder than most people think, and the idea that these wolf-men might actually exist is absolutely intriguing.

Not long ago, I heard David Paulides on Coast to Coast AM.  He was discussing his book, Missing 411, which describes mysterious disappearances from national parks.  Mr. Paulides has a long history in law enforcement and investigation, and I listened to him detail case after case of people who have gone missing under extremely unusual circumstances.  It was a memorable show, but what really stood out was when he described a little girl who went missing.  When she was found told of being carried away by a ‘big wolf’ who ‘picked her up in his arms.’  He ‘gave her berries to eat’ and ‘ate her hat.’  Many of those recovered described similar encounters with large beasts.  Again, intriguing, compelling but not definitive.  I think I’ll have to pick up Mr. Paulides book and get the full story.

What would you do if you ran into a werewolf?  Would you want to be bitten?  Do you think it possible that some form of this creature could exist in our world?

I would love to hear your thoughts!

Weird Weekend – How Real Is The Paranormal?

It’s all just in your head.

You have a very active imagination.

You should pay attention to the real world and not a bunch of made up ‘stuff.’

I use the word ‘stuff’ here because the actual word involved male cattle and their end products.  I get that a lot of my interests are found on the fringes of normal.  I love a good conspiracy theory, and I read books that many would dismiss as pure fantasy.  I’ve been told everything above more times than I can count.  If you read back through my blog you’ll see that I’ve had plenty of encounters with the otherworldly.

When does a first-hand account matter, and when is it dismissed?  Is the only evidence necessary that which we see or feel?  Does something have to be measurable by current technology to be valid?

What happens when science starts to catch up to theory, or myth?

Have you heard of Michiu Kaku?  He is the co-founder of string theory which is said to bridge the gap between classical and quantum physics.  Dang, I sounded smart just there, didn’t I?  I’m not much of a physicist, so I rely on sites like this one to help me through.  Parts of string theory rely on the existence of other dimensions than the four we are used to; height, length, width and time.  I have to ask, if there can be extra dimensions, why couldn’t there be worlds, or intelligences that exist within them, just as we exist in the dimensions of the ‘real’ world?

Do you want to automatically say No?  Why?  Do you see the possibilities and also wonder?

What if our myths, legends and religious tales stemmed from breaks in those dimensional barriers, and those other beings crossing over?  What if some people here on Earth were able see through those dimensions, to the worlds beyond?

Have you seen a ghost?  What if tales of things such as demi-gods, werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal creatures like centaurs and dragons were glimpses into dimensions just next to ours?  Are people who report, and consider such things merely delusional?  Why have such stories persisted through the centuries?  Have you seen something you couldn’t explain, and didn’t report because you were afraid people would think you were crazy?  Will you share it with us here?  Were you peering through the walls that separate those dimensions we’ve not yet learned to measure?

Welcome to Weird Weekend

Source: http://sheldoncooper.org/

When I was in grade school, I was the weird one.  Were you?  I was the one who read too much, asked the questions that made the teacher stammer, and was always out of step with what was hip or cool because I was too busy thinking up new stories, wondering which superpower I’d most like to have, or watching a spider spin a web.  I pondered if there really were aliens, or gods, or ghosts like the ones I read about in books, or saw chasing me down my upstairs hallway.

Did I mention I read way too much?  Is there such a thing?  I was reading Robert Heinlein and Anne McCaffrey when most girls my age were reading Nancy Drew or Judy Blume.  Robert E. Howard’s Conan and random copies of John Norman’s Gor series also found their way into my collection at an early age.  I’m grateful my parents never really knew just what was between those pages.  I loved the show ‘In Search Of’ hosted by Leonard Nimoy.  I was fascinated by ancient myths, and the legend of Atlantis.

 

 

 

Today, my interests find multiple outlets, and since writing is one of them, I’d love to share with you on the weekends, some of the things I love most about the supernatural, paranormal and extraterrestrial.

The paranormal is a close, personal friend.  As a psychopomp I help release earthbound spirits, as a Reiki Master-Teacher I offer energetic healings to my friends, family and loved ones.  I really enjoyed sharing these experiences through this blog, and loved reading your remarks and comments.  Like my dog-training Wednesdays, though, my paranormal postings need some expansion, hence the Weird Weekend.

Today let me introduce you to two favorites of mine in the book world:

Graham Hancock, author of Supernatural:  Meetings with the Ancient Teachers of Mankind, Fingerprints of the Gods, The Message of the Sphinx and many more.  I really enjoy Graham’s writings; thought provoking, challenging and controversial, he also hits on my beloved topics of ancient civilizations, other dimensions and realms, and so much else!  If you’ve ever wondered if there might be something to the old legends of Atlantis, or floods.  If you’ve puzzled over the remnants of what seem to be anomalously high tech ruins such as the pyramids, or the lost cultures of Central and South America, then you will want to read Graham Hancock.  He proposes that an unknown, advanced civilization flourished ages ago, at the end of the last ice age, and then backs it up with solid, scientific evidence.  I’ve never been disappointed in one of his books.

 

Tiwanaku, Bolivia. Those temple steps are 30 feet wide, each one a solid piece of rock. Source: http://www.crystalinks.com/tiwanaku.html

 

In the fiction realm, if you don’t know her already, let me introduce you to Jacqueline Carey.     From the first pages of Kushiel’s Dart, I was hooked.  Lush and decadent, reading one of Ms. Carey’s novels is like sinking into a vast, intoxicating cloud.  Vivid imagery, rich characters and beautifully intricate plots will lure you in and never let you go.  Her main character, Phedre no Delaunay is sold into a pleasure house at the age of 5, and rises to become friend and advisor to her queen as well as one of the most celebrated courtesans of the realm.  Do you like your fantasy richly detailed and extra spicy?  You will want to check out Jacqueline Carey.

No blog exploring the paranormal would be complete without mentioning Coast to Coast AM hosted by George Noory.  George Knapp, Ian Punnett and John B. Wells also host through the month.  If it’s weird, you’ll hear about it on Coast to Coast.  Often times, they’ll break news that I won’t hear on my local stations for days, or even weeks later.  Colony Collapse Disorder in bees?    Heard about it on C to C.  Aliens?  Did you want to talk about Roswell?  Or Rendlesham Forest?  Just keep listening and you’ll eventually hear it all.  Conspiracy theories?  The Face on Mars?  Jim Marrs and Richard C. Hoagland are frequent guests.

I am geeky enough that I download the podcasts to listen at my leisure.  I even managed to make it on to the annual Ghost to Ghost Halloween show last year, telling about one of my ghostly encounters.

Are you looking for something out of the ordinary?  Are you interested in things most people claim could never be?  Tell me what you want to know about, let me know what fascinates you about the supernatural.  What have you heard go bump in the night?

Dead Girls Love My Husband

I haven’t posted about ghosts in a little while, and thought I’d share this encounter with you:

Hub and I went out the other night to a friend’s birthday party.  It was being held at a club downtown, and the building is well over one hundred years old, lots of history and of course, ghosts!  We got there early, and went upstairs and I looked around to see if any spirits were nearby.  Hub took one look at my face and knew what I was doing.

I immediately got a hint of a female floating some ten or fifteen feet away.  Her hands were on her hips, she had bright curly red hair, and looked disheveled.  Her layered dress wasn’t very clean, and her face had the bumps and lines of woman who has lived a very hard life.  She glared at me from across the room, and while to me, she seemed to be floating, from her perspective, she was standing next to a fire place.  She was projecting a stubborn determination.  The building had been remodeled since her time, but she only knew the floor she stood on, and the fireplace she stood by.  Her arms crossed and she rubbed her shoulders and upper arms, she remembered being cold, and it was still affecting her.  I said “Hi.”

“Yeah, what do you want?”  She was surly, she didn’t like being talked to.  She sneered and glared at me.  I felt her anger like buzzing vibrations against my skin, that then focused on my forehead.  “Want to stare at the dead whore?  Is that it?  Well this is my place, and I ain’t leaving it!”  Her emotional vibrations began to give me a headache.  She did not like people intruding on her space, did not like that I could see her.  She resented being dead, but she also resented that some of the living could see her and treated her like a circus freak.  She only wanted to be left alone and she wanted nothing more than to push my attention away.

“Alright.”  I pulled back, and actually turned my head away from the spot she hovered in, rubbing the center of my forehead, which was still twitching and vibrating from intensity of her anger.  Hub noticed and asked, “Are you getting anything?”  “Yeah,”  I answered, “But she’s not very happy.  She’s over there.”  I gestured and described the redhead and the fireplace.  “She doesn’t really want to talk.”

“Oh really?  Why not?”  Hub wanted to know, and looking over he addressed the spot where she was still glaring.  “We just want to talk a little.  Nothing wrong with that, right?”  I watched as a new look came over her face, surprise, and her anger started to melt.

“Who’s that?”  She wanted to know.  “Is that a man?”  The spirit was suddenly interested.  “That’s my husband.”  I told her.  Anger vanished and now she sparkled.  She didn’t exactly become beautiful, but she did put on a smile and said. “A man!  It’s been a long time since I talked to a man.  Well, hello handsome!”

I don’t know exactly why this is, but dead cannot always see the living; maybe they’re too caught up in the memories of their lives.  This was the first time I’d experienced a spirit not-seeing, then seeing a person next to me.  Perhaps it was just a matter of her following where my attention went.  Watching her transformation though, made me laugh, and I  had to tell Hub what she’d said.  I tried to mimic the lilt she put into her voice, which made us both laugh again.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?  That’s the polite thing to do, you know.”  She demanded.  I presented Hub, who waved and said “Hi.”  He then asked me what her name was.  “Ruby.”  She answered.  “He really is handsome, how’d you get so lucky? What a catch!”  This really was a first for me, a ghost cooing over my husband.  I described Ruby’s exclamations, and praise, which made us both laugh, and him glow.  “Even the dead girls love me!”

Ruby’s whole attitude changed, especially when Hub joked with her flirtatiously.  “Oh, I like him!”  She forgot about her anger, but she still didn’t really want to talk to me.  When I tried to offer to help her cross to the other side, she refused.  “Nah!  I’m okay here.  Tell your cutie pie I said good bye.”  Then she faded from my sight.  Naturally I passed on her farewells, which made us both laugh again.

Not every spirit wants or is ready to move on, Ruby clearly wasn’t.  I don’t try and force them, or make them cross over, in fact, I’m not sure I could.  It’s always at the spirits own choice.  Ruby didn’t put in any more appearances, and we left later on without any more ghostly encounters.  But Hub was more than pleased that he’d finally spoken to a ghost.

Helping Spirits Get Home

Sunny's favorite place

I’ve always been in contact with ‘the other side.’  To varying degrees, true, but the ability to perceive it has always been there.  I had never heard the term ‘psychopomp’ until just a few years ago, while taking my Reiki II class.  It was then that I also found out that I am a psychopomp, although I can’t say I was surprised.  Every place I’ve lived, and most of my workplaces have had resident spirits, and during my time there, that resident spirit has moved on.

Ghosts like me; several have told me they’re ‘drawn to’ me.  My friend and teacher explained it like this:  being a psychopomp means there’s something in my energy signature, or aura, that is a big bright shiny beacon to spirits.  I’m easy for them to ‘see’ both earthbound spirits, and those on ‘the other side.’  I work very closely with my Guides, who have taught me how to use this shininess to help those who are stuck here.

I’d never been to my friend’s apartment, and as soon as I walked in my skin started to crawl.  It’s a tactile sensation that brushes across my shoulders and arms, even my face; depending on the spirit’s energy this can be pleasant, painful, ticklish…it varies.  This time, it felt prickly, warm and angry.  My shoulders tensed and I felt a tingling line trace up and down my neck.  This place did not have a happy feel.

“How long have you lived here?”  I’m sure my tone came out sarcastic and critical, because I was thinking she’d been there too long already, an emotion that was coming through from the spirits I was sensing.  We’d already talked about paranormal subjects, and I knew she was open to them so I didn’t hesitate.

“You know there’s at least one spirit here, right now?  Have you been having any problems?”  She was taken aback by my directness,  “Well, yes!”  She sounded both relieved and exasperated.  I asked if I could walk around and get a feel for the place.  The bedroom was a windowless corner in the basement apartment, and the fulminating presence made the room even darker.  Passing my hand in front of the doorway was like touching a wind made of deep anger.  Oh, she is pissed, I thought.  Out loud though, I told my friend,  “It’s in here, she’s in here.”  Still standing in the living room my friend only nodded and then told me, “I can’t sleep in that room, I can’t hardly stand to be in it, it just gives me the creeps!”

“Really?”  But I knew she was telling the truth, the bed was piled with clothes and boxes.  “So, you sleep, where?”  I asked.  “The couch.”  She waved her arms at the large, comfy looking black leather loungers.   “Look, we’ve gotta go, or we’re going to be late.”  The spirits were amping up their energy in response to my psychic poking around, and neither one was happy.  It spilled over onto my friend and she was anxious for us to get out.  It was a few weeks later that she asked me to come over and see if I could do anything.

There were two spirits sharing the apartment with my friend, and they were not getting along at all.  One was attached to my friend, something she addressed in the ensuing weeks, but the other was attached to the residence.  This resident spirit was a woman in her 40’s who showed me images of the sun, and beaches, when she finally calmed down.

But right now, these two were like feuding roommates, and my friend was caught in the middle.  She was practically vibrating in response to the tension being generated between the two spirits.  The spirit attached to my friend was primarily concerned that I would try to separate him from my friend; he was very protective.  I reassured him and asked him to move back and away, then I turned to the other one; at that time all I could determine was that the spirit was female.

She was in the doorway of the bedroom, wailing and complaining.  “This is my place!  He can’t push me around like that!  He is all over, telling me what to do, and this is my place!  My room!  I can’t even keep him out of my room!”  I let her go on for a few minutes, tried to get her to calm down and couldn’t.  She did not want to listen, just wanted to make everyone else around her pay for her misery.  So I separated them.

I made it clear that either could chose to move on at any time, I showed them the veil and invited them to cross.  But when both quite rudely refused, I told the woman,  “You cannot continue to fight, here, and upset my friend.  So for now, go to your room and stay there.”  My friend had some sea salt, so I sprinkled a line across the doorway to the bedroom and told the woman.  “Stay in there, or cross the veil.  It’s your choice, but stop fighting with the other guy.”  I was equally firm with the male spirit, he could move on, or remain near my friend, but he could no longer antagonize the female spirit.  The sea salt would keep him away from her as much as it would keep her in.

I knew though, it was only a temporary fix, and that the salt wouldn’t hold them forever.  I didn’t intend for it to.  I told my friend I’d come back soon and we’d all have a longer chat.  Sure enough, she reported a few quiet nights.  When things started back up, they weren’t quite as angry, but both were definitely still present and generating intense emotions.

I went back, and walked into my friend’s unused bedroom.

“You were really rude!”  The woman, who called herself Sunny, complained as soon as I sat down on the bed.  I’m not sure if Sunny was really her name, or just her favorite thing, because a big, warm sun always accompanied images of her.  “You threw salt at me!  Rude!”  She was right.  I don’t like pushing spirits around, but I’d been short on time; they’re still people and deserve to be treated with respect.  I focused on slowing down and giving Sunny my full attention.  “You weren’t exactly listening to me, or helping the situation, but you’re right, it was rude and I am sorry.  I really am here to help.”  I told her, while I looked around my friend’s bedroom, it was dark, and the air felt tight and hard to breathe.  Sunny’s presence swirled around me, and my skin and face tingled.  She was angry still, but at least now she was willing to talk.

“Help, how?  Why?  I was happy, lying on the beach…” Sunny filled my head with warm golden days, and I saw her as she last remembered herself.  She had curling gold hair shot with grey, and the slightly leathery, perma-tanned skin of a woman who has spent a lot of time in the sun.  She saw herself lying on a towel, gazing out across the water; an older, but still trim bikini-clad body lay with toes pointing toward the shore.  I heard the music she was listening to; a crackly radio played the Beach Boys, Led Zepplin and Boston, and I felt the heat of the sun as it hung low in the sky, sinking into the west.  Sunny spoke again.  “Then she moved in, and he’s here, and everything’s gone to shit!  Why’d he have to harsh my high?  I just want to lay here in the sun.”  She drifted a little, losing herself in her memories of life.

I reminded Sunny that she was dead, and she snapped back.  “Yeah, I know!  This is it, I’m stuck here in this apartment.”  She was bound to this place for some reason, and so spent her time lost in her happier memories, until jarred out of them.  She was constantly disturbed by my friend’s male spirit, and so made her displeasure well known, because it kept her from her dreams of life and the beach.

“You do not have to stay here, Sunny.  You can move on, go home.”  Sunny just scoffed.  “What, go to heaven?”  She rolled her eyes.  “Right!  Just leave me alone, let me go back to the beach.”  She drifted around the room, retreated into the back of the closet and sulked.

Sometimes, they need to be shown; they don’t know there is a home to go to.  I asked my Guides to bring the veil in closer.  But where is home?  What is the veil?  I don’t know, really I don’t.  They are convenient terms and labels I use to describe places and states that are difficult to put into words.  As I have experienced it, ‘home’ is the place where we reconnect with Spirit, capital ‘S’ Spirit, the Big One.  Heaven, Valhalla, ‘the other side’, ‘into the light’ take your pick, I use ‘going home.’  The veil is what separates ‘home’ from ‘here.’  I see it as a large, shimmery wall that feels soft, like fur or cashmere and kind of tingles when I touch it.  When I ask my Guides to bring the veil in closer it makes the veil more apparent.  I don’t know what the physics of it might be, but it makes the veil and what’s beyond it more discernible, to me and to the spirit I’m talking with.

When the veil appeared, Sunny focused her attention on it.  “What is that?”  Her emotions were a blend of fear and awe.  It was beautiful, but she didn’t know what to expect from it.  I did my best to show her, that she could cross the veil, go home, and she would no longer be stuck here.  “You can lay on the beach forever if you want, and never be disturbed again.”  I told her.  She only scoffed, and retreated further into the closet, more fearful now than interested in the veil.  She turned her attention away from me, sinking back into her summer dreams.  I asked my Guides to see if they could find any of Sunny’s loved ones who were in spirit, or her Guides, and reconnect them with Sunny.  At that time, they could not, she’d been disconnected and lost in her memories for so long my Guides could not immediately locate Sunny’s Guides.

“Here’s the deal Sunny, you can do whatever you want.  Go home, or stay in this closet, it’s your choice.  Take your time to think about it, and I’ll have a chat with the male spirit, and ask him to leave you alone.  You’ve been here so long, you don’t know if you want to move along, that’s okay.  If you change your mind about crossing the veil, I’d like to offer you something to make it easier for you to find.”

In Reiki II, I learned an energy medicine technique called the Bridge of Light.  This is an energetic bridge between the earth plane and home, made using Reiki.  I then ask my Guides to bring any of the spirit’s loved ones or Guides to the Bridge, to help when the spirit decides to cross.  I offered the Bridge of Light to Sunny; she looked at it with suspicious curiosity.  “You can cross at any time, or never.  But, please, for my friend’s sake, tone down the heavy, scary vibes.  I’ll ask the male spirit to leave you alone, tell him you don’t mean any harm.”  I stood, and brushed at my arms and legs, sweeping away clinging energies.  “Are we good, Sunny?”  She turned her back on me, but nodded in assent.  Her emotions were quieter now; less angry, more speculative.  She sank again into her own thoughts, fading from my view, and the mood in the room lifted.  Even though I’d left the lights off, it suddenly seemed brighter in there.

I checked in with my friend, and Sunny a few days later.  My friend was happier because her invisible roommates were no longer fighting, and Sunny was more curious about the Bridge, but still wary.  I was pleasantly surprised then when a week later Sunny came and visited me.  She’d decided to cross the veil and had come to say thank you, and goodbye, disappearing into a dark gold sunset.

I waited a few weeks, and then asked my friend how things were going at her apartment.  “Quiet, it’s been amazingly quiet.  I’ve been very happy!”  There was no more emotional turmoil from her spirit roommates, and she could no longer feel Sunny’s presence.  The last thing she said was the best news I could have heard.  “I’ve been sleeping in my bed for the last two weeks!”  She declared happily.

 

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