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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 – 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.

Spirits Are Everywhere

Really

There are spirits all around you.  Your own Guides, your loved ones who have already passed (human and animal by the way) want to be near you and look in on you.  My first dog, a big, shaggy black beast is always near me; he has quite clearly told me he would very much like to come back soon and live with me again.

The city of I live in has a rich history, and many old buildings with layers and layers of stories in their walls.  It is not hard to find a wandering spirit on any given occasion.  It’s been my experience that if they know I can see them, a few common reactions occur.

The Scary Dance

They try to scare me.  If the being is carrying a lot of heavy energy and emotions, the only way he or she knows how to communicate is through anger, hate and fear.  Also, they can often get a reaction out of the living by sending out such heavy vibrations.  If they have enough energy, they may manifest:  a form, moving an object, sounds.  Spirits are sometimes a little like dogs or small children; any attention, even if it’s negative, is reinforcing to them.  It makes sense too.  Heck, if I could see and hear everything that was going on around me, but everyone ignored, or walked through me, I’d probably get annoyed and start throwing things too.

The “How I Died” Movie

Especially if the death was traumatic, they want to tell me about it.  Make that show me.  I’ve been shown being drowned, stabbed, shot, suicide, and being surrounded by family members saying goodbye.

Afterlife Message Service

“Tell my family…”  As much as I would love to pass on every ‘I love you, I miss you, I’m okay’ the reality is often the family isn’t even present on the earth anymore to give a message to.

For those who have passed over, and even for those who haven’t the message is the same:  They’re okay.  They still exist, their personality survives even though the body may be long gone.  And they love you.

Time To Go Home

What I can do for spirits is offer to help them cross the Veil.

There’s lots and lots of ways to conceptualize this, ‘going into the light,’ ‘crossing over,’ etc.  Basically it’s when a spirit that is bound to the earth releases that binding and steps into the next realm, the true home of our spirit.

Spirits that are stuck here on Earth cannot move on for any number of reasons, traumatic death, unfinished business, an inability to let go of life, the list goes on and on and on.  It includes the ties of loved ones among the living who refuse to release the one who has passed on.

Not all of them want to go.  Some are fully aware that they’re dead, that home waits on the other side, but they want to stay attached for a time.

Crossing the Veil releases that binding; it is always by the being’s own free choice.  I don’t ‘make’ a spirit cross; I only point the way, although sometimes that process of pointing and explaining can get quite involved.  My Guides assist; they help by calling in the earthbound spirit’s own Guides and loved ones who show the bound spirit the way home.

Some of the most wonderful crossings I’ve ever seen are those of the darkest entities I’ve encountered.  These beings are filled with pain, fear and hopelessness and frequently project quite intense feelings of hate or anger.  When they cross the Veil, they release all of that heaviness and become once again their true, light selves.  It’s almost like an explosion of love and joy; the whole energy of the room changes, going from dark, prickly and uncomfortable to almost unbearably beautiful.

All photos are taken by and under copyright to ME!  Please ask permission before use.  Thank you!

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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Friends In Unexpected Places

I’ve worked in a few hospitals, and as you might imagine, they are just full of the spirits of the deceased.  People pass suddenly, people pass silently, and people pass into spirit surrounded by their loved ones at the end of life.  Some move on right away, but some stick around for a while.

One night I went off to take my break.  Since all the other break/sleeping spots were full of napping co-workers, I chose an empty room and stretched out on one of the beds.  Not something I normally did, nor something I repeated after this night.

He rose up out of the floor as soon as my head hit the pillow.

“That’s my bed.”  He hissed, crouched at the foot.  His hands reached and clutched at the covers, but he stayed hunched down on the floor.  I could only see half his face, long and grey, with wispy, flyaway hair.  His eyes were incredibly sad.

“That’s my bed.”  He repeated, with more conviction now.  “Get out of my bed.  It’s mine.”  He seemed to be struggling weakly, and with this odd doubling of my vision, I was suddenly seeing two scenes.  The darkened room as it was, with the covers still neatly tucked and pulled tight, and overlaid on that, a vision of a rumpled bed.  With exposed sheets pulled down over the end of the bed, and my hissing friend on the ground, tangled in them.  His legs were so wound up in them that he couldn’t get up.  I tried reasoning with him; it had worked before with other spirits.

“Look, I just want to rest here for a bit.  I won’t bother you, and I’ll be gone soon.”

“No, it’s my bed!”  He was adamant, and now looked petulant.  “I want to get back in it!”

I sighed, and got up, wandering off down the hall.  “Fine, it’s your bed.  I’ll leave it to you.”  I told him.  But as I walked off, he looked frankly puzzled.  A few minutes later I was back in the room, there wasn’t another place to go rest and take my break.  I dragged a chair over to the window so I could prop my feet up.   I slouched down and told the spirit curled on the floor,  “Okay, it’s your bed, but I need to rest and this place is it.  So, I’d appreciate it if you’d be quiet and keep to your bed.  I’m going to nap!”  So help me, he shut up, still with that puzzled look on his face.  The rest of my break passed uneventfully.

I didn’t talk with my co-workers about my encounter in the room at the end of the hall, but one night the discussion of ‘worst death you’ve ever seen’ came up.  Yeah, late night talk brings up some morbid subjects, but I was so new I had nothing to contribute.  Not so my fellow late-nighters.  One described finding a patient on the floor, tangled in bedding.  She pointed and said, “It was in that room at the end of the hall.”  Of course it was.

A few nights later, my new friend found me, as I was trying to nap in one of the break rooms.

“You saw me, you talked with me.  No one does that.”

There would be no sleeping this night; grumpy spirit had turned into chatty Kathy.  He wanted to know how, and he wanted to know why.  He would find me most nights that I worked, even if it was just to pop in and say ‘hi.’  He told me he found talking to me “comforting.”

Several times I told him, “You know you’re dead, right?  You are stuck here in this hospital, and you don’t have to be.  You can go into the light, move on; you can go home.”  He refused.  At one point, I asked him, why not?  Then, he did something completely unexpected.  I was lying down on a couch, and he moved so that he was standing at my head.  Very gently, he placed both his hands on the crown of my head.  It went instantly cold.

“You’re the only light I see.”  He sounded a little sad when he said it.

It was a very odd moment for me.  He wasn’t trying to harm me, he wasn’t trying to do anything at all, but I could sense he’d become fond of me.  In that odd instantaneous communication that sometimes happens between a spirit and myself I saw what he meant.

He couldn’t see the light; he didn’t know which direction was home.  I was the one bright spot in his afterlife because I was the only one who acknowledged his continued existence.  Any other living person ignored him, either willfully or because they just didn’t see him.  I knew then, that it was incredibly lonely for him, and it broke my heart.

“I am not the light you are seeking, I’m just someone who knows you’re still a person and is not afraid to talk with you.”  I told him.  “It is your choice to go, or to stay here, but you do not need to be this lonely and sad.  You can go home, you can go into the light and be with your loved ones again.  But you have to turn and look for it.  Your loved ones will be there to help you find your way.”  We had this discussion a few times over the course of the months I worked there.  He was afraid, initially, to look around.  Being stuck on a hospital floor was boring and lonely, but it was at least an existence, of sorts.  To try and search out the ‘light’ and ‘home’ that I spoke of was an unknown, and scary.

The reasons a person gets stuck on the Earth plane are as varied as human existence.  While it is true that everyone has spirit guides, it is also true that conditions here in the physical realm can cause them to lose sight of you.  Any number of mental or physical conditions (drug abuse, depression, are just a couple I can think of) can make it difficult for those in spirit to find or connect with those they love who are still incarnate here on Earth.  In an ideal world, when a person’s body dies, their guides and loved ones in spirit are right there to help them with the transition.  But, as we all know, death (and life!) situations are not always ‘ideal’ and a spirit becomes Earthbound.

That’s where I come in; as a psychopomp, it’s my ‘job’ to help get the Earthbound unstuck.  Working closely with my guides, once I’ve established contact with a spirit I can reconnect the Earthbound spirit with his or her own guides and loved ones.  The best way I can think of to describe this is, I ‘light them up’ energetically.  This energy goes out like a beacon that draws in helpful spirits and guides.  I should emphasize that this is always at the Earthbound’s choice, and I have some very powerful guides and allies who ensure that everyone plays nice.

My night-shift friend did eventually find his way into the light, he waved happily as he crossed over.  The love and light he projected in thanks was beautiful.

Have you ever feared or dreaded something, only to find once you were on the other side of it, it wasn’t frightening at all?  What used to scare you, that now is dear, or familiar?

 

 

Is It A Ghost?

I’ve run into two types of paranormal activity associated with the spirits of humans who’ve died.  First, there are the earthbound spirits I’ve been detailing so far; these are beings who cling to life, and the earth, and have the intellect to interact with those of us still incarnate.  These are what we usually think of as ghosts.  However, not all apparitions are necessarily aware of us humans on the Earth plane or trying to communicate with us.  Some of them may not even see us or react to our presence, but go about their actions as if we were the ones not there.

Commonly known as residuals, these are powerful emotional leftovers of events or trauma that took place in a particular locale.  Residuals replay over and over a scene that is seemingly ignorant of current surroundings.  For example a phantom stagecoach is sometimes seen crossing the 57 freeway in Southern California.

 

I encountered a residual haunting when I walked through two men fighting.  I was visiting a county fair that had an old farmhouse on its grounds.  I didn’t have any of the typical sensations of a nearby spirit.  The day was bright and sunny and my friend and I were having fun poking around the old house.

 

We came into a large open room, a gathering space not a bedroom or kitchen.  There was no furniture, only windows, a fireplace and a chandelier.  I walked into the center of the floor to peer up and get a closer look at the dangling lamp.  Between one moment and the next several things happened at once.  I became very nauseated, dizzy and lightheaded.  I couldn’t see my friend but two men stood facing off against each other.  It was as if I was between them but they couldn’t see me.  They were arguing.  I could hear the yelling but couldn’t understand their words.  They were close to each other, pushing and then grappling.  Each man carried a gun and they fired almost simultaneously.

The cramping and nausea had me nearly doubling over and I really was feeling like I was going to faint.  I called my friend over and she had to help me out of the house.  Once outside, the nausea evaporated along with all my other symptoms, and never returned.

“That was weird.”  She looked at me, concerned and I told her what I’d seen and felt.  We both shivered not knowing exactly what had happened.  We continued to explore the fair but stayed far away from the old farmhouse.

What sort of ghosts have you encountered?  Was it a true haunt or a residual?

What’s your scariest paranormal experience?