Spiritual Visitations

Guest Blogger - Her Haunted Apartment

2008-01-31T07:08:00.000-08:00

Her Haunted Apartment
Guest Blogger Jozette Aaron wrote up some happenings for me. I think readers will find them hauntingly interesting! To find out more about Jozette, check out her homepage at: http://www.theauthorsdesk.net

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I haven't really spoken much about the spirit I used to have living with me. I moved before I could really get to know her. I thought she would follow me but she didn't.

I don't know why I thought it was a she; I guess it was just the feeling of it being female. She would appear in the doorway to my bedroom. She floated about 12 inches off of the floor and looked like a gossamer column standing there. I couldn't really make out facial features although I do know that the deeper into a meditative state I allowed myself to get, the clearer she became but, I am terrible at meditation. I can't shut off the mind chatter to retain the state long enough to do any good.

This went on for months before I moved. I lived in that apartment for 12 years yet she appeared only months before I left there. She wasn't the only spirit in the apartment and those others were mischief makers. We had several incidents that made me feel as though I had ticked them off and I don't know how. There were also the playful ones.

In one incident...I was sitting in a chair, reading and all of a sudden the hall light started to flicker. I assumed it was the bulb about to go out so I got up and went to change it. I had to stand on a step-stool to reach the socket so I switched the light off before I climbed up the three steps. The light went out and I unscrewed the bulb. I put in the new bulb and it came on. I knew I had turned the switch to the off position beforehand but I reached down to make sure and sure enough the switch was still in the off position. Thinking there was a problem with the outlet; I took out the new bulb and replaced it with the old one. It did not come on. I turned the switch to the on position and it still didn't come on so I left it as is and decided to call the super to check the outlet in the morning. I returned to my book.

I no sooner got into the story again when the light came on! As I got up to check the switch, it went off again. When I started back to my seat, the light came on one more time. Finally, I yelled "Go to God and let me finish my book!" The light went out one last time, the spirit was gone.

The next morning, the super said there was nothing wrong with the outlet and the bulb was a good one. It went out when switched off and came on when switched on. The bulb worked in that socket for several months after that.

In yet another incident, I was washing dishes...my two youngest sons were in the back bedroom. All of a sudden, the glass mug I was washing exploded in my hand...and I mean exploded into a million pieces. The sound was so loud, my boys came running to see what had happened and found me standing there with a bloodied hand, glass everywhere. They asked if I had hit my hand against something while holding the mug and I knew I hadn't. I was holding a sponge in one hand and the mug in another and was just about to turn on the tap to rinse when it happened.

There was one time when I could smell pipe tobacco, cherrywood to be precise because it is what my father smoked. We never got along; I hadn't seen him in close to 30 years before he died. I felt that it was him and all I could think to say was, "You didn't bother to seek me out when you were live so don't come looking for me now!" Lord...what did I say that for? True to his nature, the evil thing filled my lungs with that smoke so much so that I had to run from the apartment into the hall to breathe. I found myself choking and then gasping for air, the scent of that pipe tobacco was so heavy. I stayed in the hall for a good ten minutes. When I returned, he was gone and so was the scent. He has never come back and if he has, it was without his pipe and without me knowing about it.

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Thanks Jay! Spooky stuff!

Soul Poetry

2008-01-20T11:08:00.000-08:00

Certainly, poetry about the spirit world is prevalent. One of my favorites follows. Debate over whether this poem is actually about a ghost upon the stair or not is just as popular as the poem itself. For your consideration...

Antigonish

Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
Oh how I wish he'd go away.

William Hughes Mearns (1875-1965)

Reviews of Non-Fiction Spirit Communication Books

2008-01-20T09:31:00.000-08:00

Books that share messages from spirits...here are two reviews to consider.
Enjoy!

Messages From the Other Side
by Joseph Tittel
ISBN-10: 1419666452
Review by Heather Froeschl

How does a psychic develop their gifts? Is it actually something that can be developed in all of us or is it a talent you must be born with? Many believe that we all have psychic ability to tap into. Joseph Tittel shares his life story as a medium in his book, “Messages From the Other Side.”

When he was just four years old, Joseph was aware of spiritual energy watching over him at the foot of his bed. This book chronicles how he grew up being psychic and shares his experiences of helping others as a medium. With his mother’s passing, Joseph was expecting a big sign from the other side, all the while he was telling clients to be aware of the smallest thing being a message. This is the reminder that we all need, because often the signs go unnoticed. Spirit may guide us to glance at the clock and see significant numbers, or change the radio station to one where their favorite song is playing, but they probably are not going to physically tap you on the shoulder and announce their presence, although I know this does happen too. Sharing his realization that he wasn’t taking his own advice, Joseph shows his humanity to readers. Even a psychic sometimes needs to pay closer attention.

Giving readings, Joseph has helped bring messages to loved ones from the other side. This allows some closure and validation and ultimately peace of mind. The book shares some of his more intense experiences and explains how this interaction with spirit can be healing for those left on the earth plane. Joseph goes on to help readers to tap into their own psychic abilities using detailed meditation techniques. Yes, we are all born with ability.

A compelling read, “Messages From the Other Side” addresses the questions many have sought the answers to. Joseph Tittel reaches out to readers in a friendly, easy going tone. Much like chatting over coffee with a good friend, the visit passes all too quickly. This book is an excellent introduction to the spirit world and a comfort to those who are grieving.

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What They Want You to Know!
Messages from beyond the grave
by Carter Shepard and Carolyn Cummings
ISBN:0-9767063-1-8
Review by Heather Froeschl

If we could speak once more with some of the great minds of our time, the icons of civilization to some, what would they tell us? What would we ask them? Is communication with the dead actually possible? In “What They Want You to Know!” by Carter Shepard and Carolyn Cummings, it does seem possible, and the examples given just might shatter the reader’s preconceptions of the afterlife.

Carolyn, a professional medium for twenty years, and Carter, a student of metaphysics for thirty years, interviewed eighteen well known people, from the other side. It may seem like star gazing but the list of interviewees is what it is: astounding. Starting with Albert Einstein, some of those included are Benjamin Franklin, John Kennedy Jr., his mother, Jackie Kennedy, Howard Hughes, and Steve Irwin. These souls were very much a part of what our civilization is today, so going to them for some answers does make sense. What would you ask intelligent spirits who now have the ability to see much more than we here on the earth plane? What is our purpose here on earth? What is death like? Is there a heaven or hell?

The answers to these are not all that surprising for anyone who has been a student of the metaphysical. However the questions and answers about the current situation in Iraq, the current president and race for office, and other political ponderings were a little more shocking to me. I wasn’t able to wholeheartedly believe that the answers weren’t what the questioner wanted to “hear.” The subject of religion too, was a little overpowering to me. I got the sense that the authors had certain messages that they wanted to portray. My opinion, of course, and perhaps not what the authors had in mind after all. Their disclaimer is that those who can believe will, and those that can’t, simply won’t.

These “messages” from beyond the grave are sometimes funny, often touching, and are certainly thought-provoking. Opening the mind to the continuance of the spirit is a purposeful goal that this book leads to. “What They Want You to Know!” is an interesting project indeed.

Illuminated by Headlights

2007-12-10T12:13:00.001-08:00

Illuminated by Headlights
by Heather Froeschl

Several years back, my husband was a police officer for two small towns in Vermont; we lived in an even smaller town between the two. This made for a lot of hours working, but also a lot of hours driving. One night, he had worked the evening shift, and was driving home at about 2a.m. on an empty highway. Vermont doesn’t have many streetlights, even on the biggest highways, except around Burlington, and this stretch of road was only illuminated by your own vehicle’s headlights.

Chris was driving his pickup truck at a steady clip, anxious to get home and get to bed. He was tired, but alert, and still in “cop” mode, having just gotten off duty. So when he saw a car up ahead, pulled over with its lights on, he let his foot off the accelerator a bit. As he got closer he could make out that it was an older Reliant K and that there was a man in a trenchcoat, or overcoat, leaning on a cane at the trunk of the car. Chris was still traveling at a good pace, not intending to stop unless he was flagged down, but cautious enough to be watchful as he was trained to look for citizens in distress. As he got closer, the older man stepped out, intentionally, right in front on the truck. Chris should have hit him as there should have been no possible way not to; the man stepped right into Chris’ path. Slamming on the brakes and sliding past the Reliant, Chris realized there had been no sound, or feel, of impact. He pulled over to the side of the highway and was scared of what he would find. Stepping out of the truck, he turned to find nothing at all. There was no sign of the old man, no sign of the car. Chris was completely alone on the side of the road.

Arriving home, shaken, he told me the story. My first thought, and to this day still is, is that this was a spiritual event, a replay of what may have happened on this stretch of road at some time in the past. Had the old man meant to step into the path of an approaching vehicle? Had he simply been confused and not realized another car was coming at him? How many others has this image appeared to and spooked? Is the spirit at rest or is he set on repeating his final fatal moments? I don’t think we’ll ever know. Chris tried to find any reported traffic fatalities at the mile marker on highway 89, but couldn’t find anything. With nothing but headlights to illuminate this mystery, it appears the facts of this event, just as the vision of the car and its driver, have disappeared into the night.

Soul Seeking in Bedford, VA

2007-10-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

I was followed by a ghost. Soul seeking in Bedford, Virginia, at the famous Avenel House, was a fantastic day. I was there in support of my friend Amy, who is writing a regional ghost story book, but I was also there because I love ghost hunting! We were allowed free access to the house, which stands alone and is renovated beautifully. For history of the place, go here: http://www.historicavenel.com/

Upon entering, we were given a tour but I asked initially that any ghost stories be kept from me. I wanted to pick up what I felt on my own without any prior knowledge of the activity there. Apparently there has been quite a lot of activity too! This house has been investigated several times by professional psychics, including local Deborah Carvelli, http://www.deborahcarvelli.com/. I have heard a television paranormal show did a taping there though I haven’t seen that yet.

After our tour, Amy went downstairs to get her camera to set up in a bedroom, and I wandered around upstairs waiting for her. I felt drawn to a door in the one bedroom and wanted to feel what I could, hands on. This door leads to a covered porch on the second floor and was locked, but I felt there was something important about that area. Then I was drawn to leave that bedroom and enter another across a foyer. There, I felt an energy near one window; it felt positive and friendly. From that room I entered another hallway and hesitated by a window that overlooks the front walkway. It was there that I felt a presence behind me. I always get this pulling sensation on the back of my neck when I am near spirits, and this time it was very intense. I debated going toward the main stairway but felt I shouldn’t for some reason and yet I hesitated going down the back stair. The spirit was still with me, tapping into my energy at my neck and seemingly getting a piggyback ride down the stairs and through to the main entryway of the house right to the front door. I felt I needed to peek out the window on the side of the door, and the spirit was with me yet. Everyone asked if I was okay; I suppose I looked a bit shaken and I was holding the back of my neck. I let them know I was being followed and asked the spirit to leave me alone just then. We went back upstairs then to set the camera and the bedroom was lighter feeling. Amy joked that I had led the ghost out. Well, maybe so!

We wandered around more and for a little while we were standing outside the prep kitchen listening to our guide tell us more about the house. I was on the grass looking up at the covered porch I’d felt there was something to and I felt a gentle touch on the top of my head, like a grandmother caressing a child’s hair. It happened just twice but it was distinct. There was no wind to speak of. We went back inside.

In an upstairs bedroom I sensed a strong energy by a window. My hand on the sill tingled with energy and I had Amy stand there to see what she could feel. Later I took a photo that shows a light form standing in that same spot. There is a large wardrobe in the room, blocking a back window and I felt the spirit really didn’t like it there. I felt she was asking us to please move it so she could look out the window. Of course we couldn’t. This same room has a small bathroom which is closed in from a portion of that covered porch. I couldn’t go into it at first; I felt a negativity about it that made me want to run away. Again, there has to be something about that porch.

Winding down, three of us sat in a lower room for a bit. This would have been an important, well used room in the house, with a family feel. The hearth was well worn and had obviously been an integral part of the room for warmth and gathering. A small door in this room leads to a closet under the back stairway, and shows some smoke damage inside. There was another door out of the closet at the other end but was barred shut with a wooden closure. On the outside of this “door” it was all sealed up as to not indicate a door at all. I feel the children must surely have played there and I wondered if one child hadn’t been trapped. Back in the room, I sat on the hearth with hands on to feel any energy I could pick up. We spoke for a while and then were silent, and I distinctly heard a rustling of fabric to my right. I turned around to see if the drapes were moving and they were not. It was as clear as anything, right in my ear. No one was sitting to that side of me, as they were on the other side of the room. I looked at Amy and asked if she heard anything, and she responded yes, she heard fabric moving but thought it was me. Later on I read an old newspaper article of a reporter who had heard the rustling of hoop skirts there.

Looking at my digital photos back at home, I was surprised to find the faces of children in the one window where I felt I had "picked up" my ghost. Amy had an experience in that same spot as well. It was an eventful investigation and one that I hope to continue on an evening visit sometime soon.

More on reincarnation

2007-10-07T05:19:00.000-07:00

Having recently reviewed a book that I just didn’t want to put down, I sought out an interview with the author, M.J. Rose (it wasn't enough to have her guest blog here!). The following is from M.J.’s webpage, www.MJRose.com, and nicely sums up “The Reincarnationist” experience,

“Writing a suspense novel is very much like uncovering gardens that have been hidden and secreted away. The secrets in my newest novel, THE REINCARNATIONIST, revolve around a subject that has deep significance for many people --- reincarnation. My fascination with this topic began when I was a child and it's a book that I’ve been working on for more than nine years.

“In my research I discovered I was in good company: Believers in Reincarnation throughout history include Carl Jung, Rudyard Kipling, Einstein, Ben Franklin, Napoleon, Mark Twain, General George Patton, Louisa May Alcott, Tolstoy, Henry Ford, Goethe, the Baal Shem Tov, Nietzsche, Gandhi, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Albert Schweitzer, Walt Whitman, Wordsworth, Levi ibn Habib (the Ralbah), Rumi, Thoreau, Socrates, Jesus Christ in the Gnostic Gospels, Voltaire, Josephus, Balzac, Gauguin, Pythagoras, Kabbalists, Hindus, Buddhists and Christians.

“I've learned that there currently are over 26 million people who are believers in reincarnation --- and I've created a blog as a hub for "reincarnationists" (http://www.reincarnationist.org/wordpress/ ) where you can find news related to reincarnation, read reviews of books on the subject, and discover links to other blogs and websites on reincarnation and related intriguing topics.

“I love reading page turners that give you something to think about, something that resonates and matters. I hope that’s what this novel does for you.”

It absolutely does. And if you'd like to read my interview with M.J., click here.

The Reincarnationist: Guest Blogger

2007-09-28T09:18:00.000-07:00

What about spiritual visitations with your own past life loved ones? Is it possible to reach back through the sands of time and visit with our selves for awhile? Many believe it is possible and try very hard to do so. Past life regression is something that is no longer quite as taboo as it has been. It is my pleasure to introduce guest blogger, bestselling author, M. J. Rose…

When I was three years old, I told my great grandfather things about his childhood in Russia that there was simply no way I could have known.

He became convinced I was a reincarnation of someone in his past. And over time, after more incidents, my mother – a very sane and logical woman -- also came to believe it.

Reincarnation was an idea I grew up with that my mom and I talked about and researched together.

For years, I wanted to write a novel about someone like my mother – who was sane and logical – who started out skeptical but came to believe in reincarnation. But I was afraid if I did people would think I was a “woo woo weirdo”.

I tried to start the book ten years ago after my mother died but I was too close to the subject and missed her too much to be able to explore it objectively. Every once in while the idea would start to pester me again but I still stayed away from it.

Then a few years ago on the exact anniversary of my mom’s death my niece, who was a toddler at the time, said some very curious things to me about my mother and I – things she really couldn’t have known -- and the pestering became an obsession.

Josh Ryder, the main character has my mom’s initials, her spirit and her curiosity and like her, he’s a photographer. But there the similarities end.

When Josh starts having flashbacks that simply can’t be explained any other way except as possible reincarnation memories he goes to New York to study with Dr. Malachai Samuels -- a scientist and Reincarnationist who works with children helping them deal with past life memories.

In the process Josh gets caught up in the search for ancient memory tools that may or may not physically enable people to reach back and discover who they were and who they are.

Rather than me tell you anymore about it, let me pass on what a wonderful author, New York Times Bestseller Douglas Preston, says about it:

“The Reincarnationist by M.J. Rose has got to be one of the most original and exciting novels I’ve read in a long time, with a premise so delicious I’m sick with envy I didn’t think of it myself. The novel’s exhilarating story sweeps the reader across the centuries, from ancient Rome to the present day, with stops in between. It will open your mind to some of the incredible mysteries of the past and the greatest secrets of existence. The Reincarnationist is more than a page-turner—it’s a page-burner. Don’t miss it.”

The book has garnered stars from both Publisher’s Weekly, Library Journal and is a BookeSense pick for September. I think of all my books, this is the one my mom would be the most proud of which is fitting since it’s really the one she inspired.

Please visit my website: www.mjrose.com for an excerpt, an interview with me about the book, a booktrailer and more.

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Thanks so much M.J.! I so enjoyed your book, as the world can see in my review. From one happy to be a "woo woo weirdo" to another, here's to visiting with our past lives, and with our loved ones from this life too.

Non-Fiction Ghost Story Review

2007-09-07T05:45:00.000-07:00

Here's a review of a great little book penned by a local (to me) author. It would be really great to get to visit this haunted house with my friend Amy Hanek, who is writing a book about true local ghost stories. I'll let you know if it happens. In the meantime, enjoy the book!

Ghosts? I think so!
by Sue Sereno
ISBN-10: 1424117968
Review by Heather Froeschl

Virginia has its fair share of ghosts roaming around. A lot has happened here! I’ve always loved a good ghost story; Hans Holzer is one of my favorite paranormal authors. Sue Sereno authored “Ghosts? I think so!” to share the story of her own haunted home.

Over 30 years of living in a house can bring you pretty close to it. You get to know every little inch of your home, and also every little thing that doesn’t seem quite right. Sue began to notice things right away though. The small house in southern Virginia has a bit of history that Sue discovered along the way, with property deeds going back to 1873. Some history had other ways of making itself known to her. Sue tells of things happening from bodiless footsteps, whispers in the woods, phantom cars crunching gravel in the drive, to EVP’s, cold drafts, and even ghostly scents of baked goods. There seems to be a female presence that tucks visitors into bed, and a male presence in the woods that likes to play tricks. Sue and her husband just live with the spirits around them and so have many stories to tell of their interactions. Their visitors in human form tend to have more stories than they care to. Her book is an open door to experience some of those things along with them.

The writing is honest and friendly and feels like you are sitting down with a friend over coffee. It is a fast read, made all the more so by such fascinating events. This non-fiction title would make an excellent addition to a ghost story collector, and an even more perfect book to curl up with for Halloween.

Soul Seeking

2007-09-02T07:38:00.000-07:00

Ghost hunting? I prefer the term “soul seeking.” This year promises some interesting trips around my rural area. A friend of mine is writing a regional ghost story book and I’ve volunteered to tag along and pick up whatever happens to be there. I am sensitive to the spirit world. Not in the “Ghost Whisperer” level, but I can pick up spiritual emotions and feelings (clairsentience), sounds (clairaudience), scents (I have no idea), and some sights (clairvoyance). I like to practice these abilities and what better way than to visit reportedly haunted houses and places? Thanks to Amy, I’m getting to do that.

Our first visit together was to a distinguished home in Rocky Mount, Virginia. I won’t go into the house’s details because that’s what Amy’s book is all about…the actual ghost stories of the places she visits. I would like to share a bit of what I picked up though. This wasn’t my first visit to the home. On other occasions I have felt other things, including a presence on the landing of the stairs – before I was told that a sighting of a female spirit had occurred in that very spot. This visit was more of a chat and we briefly walked through a couple of rooms. We plan to go back for an official ghost tour in a couple of months. One of the rooms was the dining room, one of the oldest parts of the home. Immediately upon entering, I was drawn to the fireplace. This must have been the parlor at some point. It was a small fireplace but commanded my attention. The hearth stones were particularly enticing and called for hands on exposure. I knelt to lay my hands on the stone and did feel an energy there. I couldn’t make anything out other than the presence of this energy. It very well could be the remains of a great emotional moment, and nothing more, or, someone may have died on that spot. I don’t know. I asked the home owner if there had been any reported sightings in this room (there are numerous reports of experiences in this house – and up to 22 ghosts) and she replied that there had been a Union soldier spirit seen once, next to the door in the corner of the room, opposite the fireplace. There had been a Union raid on the food storage building during the war and likely the soldiers entered the home to whatever ends. This room would have been the closest rear entry to the storage building. It seems one of them didn’t make it out. Our tour ended at that point, but as we were gathering our thoughts in the driveway, I did feel another presence at the back of the house. There is another building, which would have been the kitchen, set apart from the home, back when it was built. I felt a sadness that reminded me of missing family members, but also an acceptance by the family that lived in the house. That was all, just a feeling.

This visit felt like stretching some muscles I hadn’t used in a while. Delightful, interesting, and compelling. I can’t wait to do more of it.

And now for something,still, a little different...

2007-08-26T06:49:00.000-07:00

Here is another reminder that those spiritual communications we might have are often our own spirit guides trying to tell us something. From the author of "Courageous Souls," a brief explanation of how we plan our lives before birth...

Do We Plan Our Life Challenges Before Birth?
by Guest Blogger, Robert Schwartz

So often, when something “bad” happens to us, it appears to be purposeless suffering. But what if our most difficult experiences are actually rich with hidden purpose – purpose that we ourselves planned before we were born? Could it be that we choose our life’s circumstances, relationships, and events?

In my research for my book Courageous Souls: Do We Plan Our Life Challenges Before Birth?, I found that the answer to this question is a definite yes. Working with four of the most gifted mediums and channels in the country, including one who is able to hear the conversations people had with their future parents, children, spouses, friends, and other loved ones, I’ve examined the pre-birth plans of dozens of individuals. These people planned such challenges as physical illness, having handicapped children, deafness, blindness, drug addiction, alcoholism, losing a loved one, and severe accidents.

Why do we plan to experience challenges? I found four primary reasons. First, challenges allow us to balance karma from past lives. Karma is sometimes conceptualized as “cosmic debt,” but I think of it more as unbalanced energy. Let’s say, for example, that in a past life one person was physically ill and another person was the caretaker. When these two people transition back into spirit and have their life review, they will have a sense of unbalanced energy. One way to create balance would be to switch roles. The one who was ill now plans to be the caretaker, while the one who was the caretaker now plans to experience illness. What makes these life blueprints so challenging is that once in body, neither soul will remember the pre-birth plan.

Second, we plan challenges in order to heal. For example, Penelope, the deaf woman in my book’s chapter on deafness and blindness, planned to be born completely deaf because in a past life she had heard the gunshots that killed her mother. She was a small child when the murder occurred. She was traumatized by her mother’s death and went on to commit suicide later in that incarnation. In this lifetime, she sought to focus on self-healing and wanted to make sure that her healing would not be hindered by a similar trauma. In her pre-birth planning session, her spirit guide asks, “My dear . . . would you prefer to be born deaf so that no sound will ever remind you of those sounds again?” Penelope replies, “Yes, that is what I want and what I wish to do.”

Third, we plan challenges to be of service to others. In the chapter on physical illness, I write about Jon, a homosexual man who planned to have AIDS so that he could teach tolerance to humanity. In his pre-birth planning session, we heard Jon conferring with the soul of the future loves who would – at his request – transmit the virus to him. The future lover says, “There is an issue larger than all of the personal benefit of contracting this illness. We can teach our elders, honor them, and provide them with a valuable opportunity to experience, learn, and grow.” Jon, therefore, is not someone to be judged or scorned, but rather someone we may thank for having the raw courage to plan such a bold mission in service to others.

Lastly, life challenges allow us to know ourselves as love. By this I mean not simply that we are loving, although certainly that is true, but that we are quite literally made of the energy of love. In our nonphysical Home, we experience no contrast to ourselves and therefore cannot fully understand our nature as love. On Earth, in a realm of duality and stark contrast, we often encounter a lack of love. As we choose in the face of such experiences to give and receive love freely and unconditionally, we remember who we really are.

Robert Schwartz is the author of Courageous Souls: Do We Plan Our Life Challenges Before Birth? A free PDF with a large sample of the book is available on the About the Book page at www.CourageousSouls.com. The book may be ordered on the Courageous Souls web site (which ships internationally) or by calling Whispering Winds Press at 1-800-742-0148 (in the US) or writing to info@courageoussouls.com. The book is also available on all Amazon web sites, and it may be ordered through any library (at no charge) or bookstore by providing them with the ISBN number (9780977679454). Robert Schwartz may be reached at author@courageoussouls.com.

Author Bio

In a personal session with a medium in 2003, author Robert Schwartz was astonished to speak with nonphysical beings who knew everything about him - not just what he had done in life, but also what he had thought and felt. They told him that he had planned many of his most difficult experiences before he was born. Realizing that a knowledge of pre-birth planning would bring great healing to people and allow them to understand the deeper purpose of their life challenges, he devoted the next three years to studying the pre-birth plans of dozens of individuals. The extraordinary insights that emerged speak to our heartfelt, universal yearning to know . . . why.

Voices in the Night

2007-08-23T07:47:00.001-07:00

In recent weeks I’ve had several nights where I am woken from sound sleep by voices. I can’t hear what they are saying but they seem to be calling to me, trying to tell me something in an urgent manner. They’re audible, but not quite clear. It’s always in a moment of heavy sleep and the voices pull me awake.

Last night, the voice repeated what it had said to my hazy call of, “What?” I jumped from bed, turned on the hall light, and walked slowly to the heart of the house, waiting to hear again the voices that woke me. Nothing was heard. My daughter has told me that she too has heard voices in the night and is woken by them as well. It’s a wonder we haven’t stumbled into each other in the living room trying to listen to them!

Again and again this happens and it has made me wonder what is trying to be said and who is trying to say it. I’m not frightened by the voice – only from the startlement of being woken by it. I don’t sense a malevolence. In fact, it feels familiar in a way. This led me to further contemplation of what we so often call ghostly encounters. I know that some of our spiritual visitations are really our spirit guides trying to communicate. We may be picking up on the presence but not the purpose. Obviously this is not a new thought. Many have embraced their spirit guides and freely listen to them. For the average person though, who may be terribly frightened by bodiless voices, and seemingly ghostly encounters, this might be a welcome message. That the whispering, knocking, visiting spirit may be a part of their soul group, a soul mate, a spirit guide, a loved one in spirit form, and not a scary Hollywood ghostie.

Try to listen, look and feel with an open mind and heart and perhaps you will come to understand that a spiritual encounter is a soul-full one and not necessarily something to fear.

Something a Little Different

2007-08-16T06:26:00.001-07:00

Normally, I would keep this blog to purely ghostly events but I recently read such a soul touching, enlightening book that I have to post my review of it here. As a connection to Spiritual Visitations, it got me to thinking that maybe some of our "ghostly" experiences are really our spirit guides trying to guide us in our life plans. I can't say enough to recommend the following book, but, if you've ever wondered about the topics of reincarnation and soul destination, spiritual growth, and life lessons, READ it. Buy a copy for everyone in your family. You'll want to share it, but will want to hold tight to your copy. Anyway, here's the review:

Courageous Souls
Do We Plan Our Life Challenges Before Birth?
By Robert Schwartz
ISBN-10: 0977679454
Review by Heather Froeschl

Why me? It is a question so often thought, cried, moaned, or screamed. Blame is placed on higher powers as surely as emotion is felt. Isn’t it possible though, that our trials and tribulations, our painful experiences, are full of purpose? What if an author would share with you that your own soul actually planned for these things to happen? That there is indeed a reason for it all? Robert Schwartz, author of “Courageous Souls,” shares his view that we plan our life challenges before birth. This is a must read book with my highest recommendation.

Robert begins by explaining his research of his own, very personal experiences with his spirit guides, and then the research he did with the help of four gifted mediums and channels. Through the life experiences of ten people, with the help of his team, Robert relays how those interviewed went through various life challenges, including drug addiction, accidents, physical illness, and the death of loved ones, and why. He interviews these people, shares their stories, then has the medium or channel delve into the pre-birth planning done by the soul. Here, the reader comes to understand the soul groups, soul mates, akashic records, spirit guides, and planning of the challenges and lessons we are on earth to face. Discussed in great detail is the fact that we are here on earth as personalities and that when the body dies, the soul goes on, and on, and on. We may have lived in a completely different part of the world before, with other souls who are now our husbands, parents, or children, and were then our friends, business partners, or even tormentors. As a soul group, the life is planned, with tremendous challenges that provide opportunity for growth.

I’ve always loved that quote, "We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey." - Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. How very true that is, and I believe it is the main point of Robert Schwartz’s book, “Courageous Souls.” Eloquently and purposefully delivered, the book is one that will help readers to understand these concepts, begin to understand why events in our lives take place, consider that things that happen to us are part of our lesson plan, replace the anger or guilt felt over situations with forgiveness and peace, and begin to recognize the patterns that are in your life that revolve around your own soul’s goal for you.

For anyone who has ever asked, “Why me?” and anyone who has ever felt that there had to be a reason for this life, I recommend “Courageous Souls.” For anyone and everyone, I say, please read this book; you’ll be absolutely enlightened.
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The book is available through Amazon at:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product//0977679454/ref=cm_rv_thx_view/102-8456182-3540152
and direct through this site: www.CourageousSouls.com

Is it a sign?

2007-07-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Knocks on the wall, footsteps in the hallway, doors slamming, lights turning on and off, pennies from heaven and feathers from grandparents. There are many things that could be interpreted as signs from beyond. You and your uncle may have played a game where he pulled a quarter out of your ear when you were a kid, months after his passing you keep finding quarters all over, in the weirdest places…so is your uncle telling you he is still around? Maybe you had a grandmother who collected feathers and on the occasion you really need her guidance, a feather finds its way in your path. What if your best friend passed away and you keep hearing an old song on the radio that you two used to dance to in high school 20 years ago? Is that a sign?

Do you keep seeing repeated numbers throughout your day? It’s 11:11 when you look at the clock, your total at Walmart comes out to be $44.44, filling up your car with gas, and the pump clicks off at $33.33. Many people take this as a sign that the spirit world is watching over them. If you see certain numbers, then that message may mean something special. The numbers I see very often are 111 and 444; I take this as a sign that I am being guided by spirits. The interpretations of these signs are varied and personal, but try to pay attention to how often these things occur to you.

I’ve had items pop up in out of place areas, for instance I found my Walt Whitman book that my mother had given me for Christmas, in the kitchen one day. The next day I found a porcelain cat that she’d given me had fallen off a high shelf. Later that day I heard her favorite song on the radio. I decided these had to be signs and called her that evening, only to find out she hadn’t been feeling well and was very anxious about it. Did my deceased grandmother send me these signs to get my attention focused on my mother? I believe so.

Signs might be subtle, but others could be blatant. Is there a light turning on by itself in your home? Is it at the same time every time? What is significant about that time? Did a loved one pass away at that time that you know of? They may be trying to reach you. Does a certain scent envelop you when you are particularly stressed? Does it remind you of a certain family member who has passed on? My grandfather smoked a certain cherry tobacco in his pipe and there are times when I’ve been surrounded by this scent when I felt threatened and needed comforting. This happens in odd places where I couldn’t possibly pick up the odor from anyone around me. Most recently this happened when I was with my kids, wading in a local river with hardly anyone else around, certainly no one who was smoking a cherry tobacco filled pipe.

I was once with a group of ghost enthusiasts who had gathered for a conference. The mediator suggested an exercise where we stood in a rough circle and tossed a ball of yarn to each other at random. We let the spirits in the room determine who would catch the yarn. When catching it, we would pinch the yarn and hold onto it as we tossed it to the next person, effectively creating a tangled web between us. When the yarn was at its end, we all let go, lowering the “web” onto the floor. The mediator then told us to look closely at the yarn and see what symbols or patterns we saw. It became very clear, at least to myself and some others, that the yarn spelled out in script, “We R Energy.” Amazement and acceptance ran through the room.

So the next time you hear footsteps in the night, assuming it isn’t a human, remember that the spirits are energy and may be trying to tell you something. Try to listen, for after all, ghosts were people too.

The Raccoon Ghost - Guest Blogger

2007-07-19T13:54:00.000-07:00

The Raccoon Ghost
by guest blogger Erik Scott

I once saw a ghost. It wasn't one of those dark and spooky nights you always hear about, rather it was early morning; near as I can remember it was close to dawn.

I had just finished making a cup of coffee and I was standing outside of my front door in a blue and white striped pair of grandpa pajamas when I heard a strange clicking sound coming from the other side of the garage.

Having no shoes nearby, I stepped barefoot down the stairs to the driveway below; looking across the driveway toward the other side of the garage, I noticed that the raccoons had decided it was my home that would be hosting the nightly garbage party. Disgusted, I kicked an old beer can across the driveway, which just happened to be half-filled with stale beer and my brother in-law's Skoal habit. Cursing, I grabbed an old newspaper off the driveway and attempted to rub off as much of this vile sludge from my legs and feet as I could.

It's at these times you wish you had gone through with shaving your legs for that last bike race, no matter the public flogging you would take at work. And there it was, crouching low at the bottom of the driveway, peering at me as if I had done something as to disturb it's eternal peace. A tiny, fat, hairy, raccoon ghost.

Some people have asked how I knew it was a ghost, simply put, it was translucent and it had a pale yellow angel halo. It's face was filled with peace and love, sort of what you would expect from an angel raccoon.

This single event has changed my life. It is made me a better person, a loving, caring and compassionate individual. A person that will brake sharply on a moonlit night to prevent the needless death of a tiny, fat, hairy raccoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for something just a little different Erik!

Vivid Visitation

2007-07-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

Understanding the Signs

I truly believe that spiritual communication occurs in many forms. We put out a call to the universe when we focus our energy and intent; who answers that call is as varied as belief systems. Not very long ago, we had to make a very hard decision regarding our dog Buddy. He was diagnosed with cancer and was in a highly advanced stage. We knew we had to put him out of his misery. Still, I was very upset about it and questioned our decision. The night before the day it was to happen, I spoke aloud to my grandmother for guidance. Grandma passed years ago now but she was always one I could go to for advice and comfort and she still is. I asked her to please give me a sign that we were doing the right thing. I put my heartfelt passion into my plea and fell asleep anticipating her answer.

The next morning dawned with sadness in the house. The kids were off to school knowing that when they returned they would have to say goodbye to their lifelong friend. As I returned from the bus stop I noticed that our visiting neighborhood pooch, whom we call Toby, was on the front porch. He’s a free spirit and drops by now and then to say hello. As the day wore on, I spent some time with Buddy, seeing his old self in the back of his eyes, but knowing he was in pain. I also saw that Toby was still hanging around. He walked with me to the mailbox. He walked with me to the garden. He walked with my son when he got off the bus that afternoon. And again with my daughter when she got home. His constant presence was a little unusual but also somewhat comforting.

We gave our love and goodbyes to Buddy and my husband took him away to the vet. Toby was still out front when I took my son to his ballgame, and there still when we returned. As I turned out the lights for the night, the first without our dear Buddy, I said goodnight to Toby. The next morning, he was gone. But his absence made me realize this was probably my grandmother’s sign that we’d done the right thing. She sent Toby to comfort us in the only way she could.

Just a couple of nights later, I believe Buddy came to me in my dreams. I dreamed so vividly that he had found my little family at an outing. In the dream, we did not expect our dog to show up. We were at a concert of some kind and he walked up an aisle between the seats to find us. He was so happy and was clearly his old pain free, carefree self again. We left to go on a picnic, delighted that Buddy was with us again. I lay down on the picnic blanket to rest and Buddy curled up right beside me. I could feel his contentment, his happiness, and felt at peace myself, knowing he was okay. I awoke just then, curled up in the same position I had been in, in my dream, as if cuddling something in front of me. I have no doubt this was Buddy’s way of telling me himself that he was alive and well on the other side, and that he understood why he had to leave us. In truth though, he hasn’t left us…he’s just waiting to go on a picnic.

My Christmas Gift From Beyond - Guest Blogger

2007-07-06T07:08:00.000-07:00

My Christmas Gift From Beyond
by guest blogger Zsuzsana Summer
http://www.arcanamatrix.com/

In spite of several interesting encounters I've had with the spirit world, I still have doubts, as I think many of us do, about whether these experiences are real or only tricks of our imagination. After receiving an amazing gift from my late uncle, however, I am convinced that there are times when the door between us and the 'other side' opens and we can truly communicate with each other. It just seems to sometimes require a bit of an extra effort to make ourselves heard and understood, and that probably goes both ways!

My dear uncle, who was born in and lived his entire life half way across the world in Hungary, passed away a few years ago and his crossing left a huge hole in my heart. He was my favourite uncle and my godfather: a frustrated scholar, an avid adventurer, and a walking book of knowledge with a warm and humorous soul. About 15 years ago while he was visiting us in Canada, I asked him for a huge favour, to write out our family history. This he did, although it was a huge and painstaking task, and he gifted me with several handwritten pages of family ancestry information and a family tree. This was one of my prized possessions, especially as no one else was left in the family who would have this knowledge. Well, a couple of years ago, I discovered this precious documentation missing. I searched high and low through the weeks, months, and yes, years that followed. It was devastating to me that I couldn't find these papers, especially as I am extremely organized and caring of my belongings. It came to the point that I was begging and pleading with the angels, the universe, anyone, to help me find the papers. I consulted my psychic friends, I did spells and rituals, I pleaded with St. Anthony - all to no avail. Eventually, I began to try speaking with my departed uncle directly, asking him to show me where the papers were. Coincidentally, sometime during the midst of all this searching, I discovered keys to an old safety deposit box which had somehow gone missing and although I spent many months trying to establish the whereabouts of this forgotten box, eventually ending up pleading with the highest corporate level at the bank, there turned out to be no chance of identifying or locating this box any longer. I lived daily with the knowledge that these treasured documents may have at some point been consigned to that missing safety deposit box and would never again find their way back to me. It was a monumental feeling of guilt, and of loss.

Just before Christmas last year, I was lying in bed one night and considering how to word yet another prayer to my uncle. It occurred to me for some reason to speak to him in Hungarian. This thought had never crossed my mind before as English is a more natural language for me, being the one I use every day. So, I spoke to my uncle in the darkness, in Hungarian, asking him to help me find those papers. A day or two later, when I had some time, I decided once again to start going through all my personal papers, files and collections that have grown to massive proportions over the years. I am a pack rat - I have kept and filed away every greeting card and letter I have ever received since I was a baby, every photo we've ever taken or received, mementoes by the score, all stored away neatly in pretty boxes. I decided to do yet another search, going one by one through these items and examining each and every little bundle or paper in what I was fairly sure would be a vain attempt at locating these papers. Then, for some strange reason, I had a new thought. I remembered working online with a computerized family tree generator about 10 years ago, (and 2 houses ago) and realized that I had never since seen the practice printouts I had made at that time. I had a strong suspicion that I may have been working with my uncle's documents when I did those printouts and the whole shebang may have been filed away together. I thought back to what else was gong on at that time and remembered that I'd had my metaphysical store back then, so I pulled out the tattered archive file box of my store and business records from the bottom of my office closet and started going through all my files. My heart just about stopped and I am convinced that time itself slowed down when I found an unlabelled folder amongst the business records. As I pulled it out, ever so slowly, I saw the edges of the fancy telltale stationery I remember using for the family tree work. To my amazement, as I held my breath and opened the folder, there it was - my uncle's letter with my family tree, all tucked away among my business records. The feelings of relief, joy and gratitude just about overwhelmed me as I thanked my uncle's spirit and all the spirit helpers who had finally brought this moment to be.

If I had any doubts about whether my uncle had actually intervened to help me, they were pretty much laid to rest in short order. I was doing some last minute gift wrapping later that day and needing some ribbons and bows, I hauled out a large old storage tote box where I keep reusable bows and gift wrap items. As I rummaged around and pulled out 2 or 3 ribbons, a faded little gift tag fell onto the table. I didn't recognize the writing on it at first glance and picked it up to have a better look. Puzzled, I read the words "To a dear niece...from Uncle Steven." At first the tag made no sense to me, because I have no relatives in this country and none who speak English or have English names. Then, it clicked. The tag was from a gift my uncle had given me those many years ago when he was here visiting - and he had obviously asked someone how to write his name and these words in English. And that would have been the same year I'd asked him to put together our family tree. I was overwhelmed with emotion at this discovery.

In the weeks after this wonderful connection (and yes, I have now put the documents in a place where I will always be sure to find them) I experienced wave after wave of joy and relief and gratitude that I have these precious papers back again, and that my beloved uncle is still somewhere close by. And I have gained a new nugget of wisdom - or at least something that is important food for thought - that when we try and communicate with the other side, sometimes we may need to take the extra time and care to explore the ways in which we will best be heard and understood, instead of assuming that any old method of communication will get through. I have resolved to work with this theory and it has got me thinking about other forms of ritual, prayer, spellwork and magic - whether there really is a reason to work with all the elaborate guidelines and ritual or whether simple 'intent' is enough to get things moving out there in the cosmos and the land of spirit (as I had previously believed). Maybe we do need to pay attention to the 'language' we use, even with the spirit world and higher powers, just like we do in our human communications.

(c) 2007 Zsuzsana Summer
Learn more about Zsuzsana and spiritual stuff by reading my interview with her here.
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Thanks Zsuz! Intent is indeed a powerful thing, all the more so when helped by spiritual visitors!

Footsteps on the Stairs

2007-07-04T05:59:00.000-07:00

Footsteps

Our first apartment away from home (hundreds of miles away on Long Island, New York) was the second story of an old house. It had been renovated so that there were the usual assortment of rooms, including a kitchen and dining room. It was pleasant enough, cheerily painted and new carpets throughout. The only hassle was the stairway one had to climb with the groceries. It was inside the house and had a door at the bottom with a big glass window in it, and a door at the top, of the solid type.

We settled into “living in sin” in this small town in Vermont and my fiancé got a job as a corrections officer in a jail some 18 miles away. It took him a half an hour to get to and from work, and he worked the graveyard shift. Our days of bliss were very changed. He was gone almost every night and asleep for most of the day when he returned home. Dinner was always waiting for him in the fridge, to eat while I had my coffee and toast.

It bothered me being alone at night. I did not sleep well at all. I was only 20 years old and was not used to living on my own. I often had nightmares in that house, but I chalked it up to my just being a chicken. After nearly four months of this I was given something to really be afraid of.

I guess it was about 2 a.m. the first time it happened. I heard the downstairs door banging against the porch railing. I really did not want to creep down the stairs to close it and cursed my fiancé for not shutting it tightly when he’d left four hours prior. It had to be done though and down I went. The stairs were very cool but since it was October in Vermont I didn’t think much of that. I shut and locked the door and ran back up to jump into bed. The next morning I accused Chris of not being careful with the door. He looked at me as if I were crazy, insisting that he remembered locking it when he left. I figured he was just making excuses.

That night, it happened again. It was just about an hour after he had left, so I was not in bed yet when I heard the door open down the stairs. I froze as I listened at the door at the top. I knew I would have to open it and look. I just couldn’t do it though. I called Chris at work and he insisted that he had indeed locked the door, and said maybe I should call our landlord who lived below us. I couldn’t do that though. It was 11 pm and you don’t just call your landlord because your door is open.

I felt as though I had drunk 10 cups of coffee. My blood banged in my ears and my fingertips pulsed as I grasped the doorknob. I made myself release the chain and I envisioned a burglar creeping up the stairs. I grew up in New York and always feared someone breaking into our home, though no one ever did. I flung open the door and yelled, “Get out of here!” as I searched the wall for the light switch. No one was there, but the lower level door stood wide open. I ran down and slammed it shut, quickly locking it, dread filling my mind with images of a rapist stepping up to the glass and punching through it. I think I took the stairs three at a time at least. I did not sleep that night.

Chris was off for the next couple of nights and I was glad. I slept peacefully, probably out of exhaustion. But the first night he was gone again was even worse. I must have dozed for awhile in front of the TV, for I woke up to Johnny Carson saying good-night. I fell into bed and was just falling asleep when I heard footsteps on the stairway. Very steady, not hesitating, and sounding heavy, footsteps. My blood ran cold; I froze in a half sitting half laying position, my heart stopped. I refused to go to the door. I could not go to the door. I stay there in bed, listening with every fiber of my being. I didn’t hear the door open, I didn’t hear the upstairs doorknob turning and I didn’t hear any descending footsteps. It must have been hours later that I finally passed out from the effort of staying awake, ears strained. The next morning, as dawn lightened the room a bit, I braved opening the door. No one was there. And the lower door was shut tight, still locked.

Nothing happened for a few nights. Chris had purchased a gun though, convinced now that we needed it more than we ever would have in NY. I didn’t sleep peacefully but I did get a bit more rest than previously. Then one night, I heard the footsteps again. I had taken to leaving the stairway and outside porch lights on all night, hoping to scare away anyone thinking of sneaking in. I parted the bedroom window curtain to look down at the porch and to my horror the light was off. I couldn’t see a thing. Then I heard voices. I almost felt relief, thinking that it must be my landlord in the apartment downstairs, but then I recalled that they had taken a trip to visit her parents in Massachusetts and were not at home.

I couldn’t make out the words but I knew they were male voices. Every step toward the door felt like an eternity. I was petrified but knew I had to do something. Banging my fists on the door, I yelled, “Go away! I have a gun!” The talking ceased, but there was no sound of retreating footsteps. I slid down the wall to the floor and cried. As I went back to bed I looked out the window and saw that the porch light was back on.

The next night Chris stayed home. We were in bed near midnight waiting for it to happen. I think he must have felt I was losing my mind for he had never heard anything. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened and my eyes flew wide and searching for Chris. He hadn’t heard it and I nudged him awake, too scared to say anything. Just as he was about to question me, we heard the footsteps. Heavy, steady and ascending the stairs. Chris jumped out of bed and grabbed his gun. I followed him, too afraid to stay in bed. The footsteps stopped and Chris carefully let the chain down, then unlocked the door, not wanting to make a sound and scare the intruder away. He flung open the door and pointed his gun down the stair. No one was there. Such a chill ran through me as I have never felt again. Chris slammed the door and turned to me, my fear reflected in his eyes.

***********************************
We broke our lease and used the excuse that we needed to be closer to Chris’ work. The landlords were disappointed but not all that surprised. When we were saying good-bye I asked the wife if she had ever heard footsteps on the stairs at night. She looked at me strangely and asked, “You mean that wasn’t you?” I shook my head and we left.

We never found out what had happened on those stairs. The landlords sold the house a few years later and we have never been back inside of it. I just don’t want to know.

Disembodied Voices Not Allowed!

2007-06-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

I’ve written about how I’ve visually experienced a spiritual visitation, and how I caught the scent of the supernatural…here’s a short bit on how I heard a voice that had no physical body.

We were living in Roanoke, VA and making a move to our newly purchased rural home in Franklin County. My husband was working, the kids were in school and I was packing, again. I decided to tackle my son’s room that day, the one with the storage closet. This is where I would stash our holiday decorations, my wedding dress, extra blankets and off season clothes. It wasn’t really such a big area, but it was packed to the ceiling. So I was inside the closet (with no light but what came through the open door) pushing things out to go through. I’d always had a feeling of being watched when I moved things around in there. This day was no different, but I was trying to ignore the feeling. As I was making my way out into the room, I distinctly heard, from behind me, my name being called, in a man’s voice. Spoken practically into my right ear, the voice gave me chills and the hair on my neck stood on end. It almost sounded like my father’s voice, but he lived hundreds of miles away, and was certainly not in the closet behind me.

I thought for sure my husband had come home without my hearing him, and went out into the hallway to call down the stairs to him.

“Did you call me?” I asked…to an empty house. I went down and looked for his car, to find it wasn’t there. I searched the whole house, and no one was home but me and the dog. I knew he hadn’t called me!

I had to finish what I was doing; after all we were moving very soon. The voice hadn’t seemed very scary, but it did know my name and has insistently gotten my attention. The room seemed static with energy as I went back in to quickly tape up the boxes. I no longer felt like sorting things out. I felt wary, but this was my son’s room and I knew I couldn’t leave it feeling threatening. I calmly made my presence known, just doing what had to be done. I felt I was reclaiming the space with my own energy and letting the spirit know I was in charge. No hard feelings but I was in Mom mode and protecting my then five year old son. Disembodied voices were not welcome! This wasn’t the first spiritual encounter or audio spirit event this room had experienced, but I’ll save that story for another day.

A note from a reader

2007-06-26T06:38:00.000-07:00

I have read both the skeptics and those who are trying to make Parapsychology into an acceptable mainstream science. I believe skeptics provide a good service, when they expose trickery, and honest flaws in the reasoning of those, who are trying to prove para-normal phenomena.

Where I part company with the skeptics is when they make a dogmatic statement such as, "if you can't measure it, it does not exist". It seems to me, some hardcore skeptics are much like certain religious believers. Both are deeply attached to their beliefs and dogmas. Neither, it seems to me, has much of an open mind.

It seems; so often to the some hardcore skeptics, if something is not proven, then it is not true. This to me does not make sense. Isn't there room for "we don't know"? Why does the default position have to be "doesn't exist" or "untrue"? It seems to me, "unproven" just means "unproven"--we don't know.

The challenge offered by the skeptics, as far as I can see, proves nothing. It could be; people with psychic abilities do not know of the challenge, or are not interested in it.

There are those with college degrees in Parapsychology and other fields, who believe there are such psychic abilities as telepathy and clairvoyance.

I believe those, who are honestly trying to research para-normal events, should be treated with respect.
Best Wishes
Richard

My Own Guardian Angel - Guest Blogger

2007-06-24T06:13:00.000-07:00

My Own Guardian Angel
by guest blogger Kim Baccellia
www.kim-baccellia.com
http://kbaccellia.livejournal.com

Who says that guardian angels don’t look after us? After one experience, I’ll never doubt spiritual visitors again.

It was the summer of 1982. I was 22 years old and worked the 12-9pm shift at the downtown Sacramento Weinstocks department store. The hours sucked but I needed the money to save to go to a private university. Since I didn’t have a car I had to take the bus.

I’d just got off the bus and was starting to walk to my grandfather’s house. I’d done this numerous times before but since it was around 10 pm, I couldn’t walk the rest of the way home. My grandfather’s house was only a few blocks away. When I had these shifts, he’d wait for me and then would drive me the rest of the way home.

Usually nothing happened on these nights. I was young and didn’t think anything could happen to me.

On this one night, I hadn’t walked far when a car load of drunken men drove by. A couple of them leaned out of the window, yelling obscenities and disgusting things. My heart raced but I did my best to ignore them.

I remember walking faster. I even hummed a familiar church hymn. I couldn’t wait to get to Grandpa’s house.

Then out of the blue a voice came to me. “Run.” I looked around but other than the open field to one side of me and a mostly deserted road I saw nothing.

The voice came again, more persistent this time. “Run.” A sick feeling hit me. But I still ignored it. I was almost to my grandfather’s house. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

The voice refused to leave. Now each word slammed into me. “Turn around and look. Now!”

I turned and to my horror I saw the same car of drunken men coming my way! They pulled off the road and started running toward me.

Oh my God, I thought. I’m going to get raped! I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move as I was frozen in fear.

And then something pushed me. The force was so strong I found myself in the middle of the road. Suddenly cars came on both sides of the street. I was shocked. What had happened? Who had pushed me?

The drunken men stopped and stared too. Every time one of them would try to cross the street, more cars would come.

I ran as fast as I could to my grandfather’s house. When I got home I told my mother what had happened. She told me that she’d felt something bad was going to happen to me so she prayed for someone to look out for me.

To this day I thank my guardian angel for his help. And I vowed never to ignore a prompting again.

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Thank You Kim! Readers, Kim's YA multicultural fantasy, Earrings of Ixtumea is available in e-book and e-serial format at http://www.virtualtales.com. It's also available at http://www.mobipocket.com

Crossing Over - Guest Blogger

2007-06-22T04:46:00.000-07:00

Crossing Over
By guest blogger Susan Fox, CH
© 2007 Susan Fox Trust, All Rights Reserved
www.hypnoticbraintalk.blogspot.com

My name is Susan Fox. As a hypnotic consultant, brain dialog researcher, writer and trainer since 1988, I’ve worked with many different people with life challenges including the paranormal.

A friend, June, asked me to see her daughter, Sharon. Sharon unexpectedly began experiencing severe discomfort. She came to see me for help.

Using hypnosis and some other complimentary wellness techniques, we quickly identified and Sharon mentally resolved physical body discomfort causes. I assumed she would continue improving if she chose to favorably respond to post-hypnotic suggestions I asked her subconscious to believe. However, her discomfort persisted. After several tests, doctors diagnosed Sharon with colon cancer. The cancer rapidly spread throughout Sharon’s body. Eventually, she lapsed into a coma. June, Dotty (a mutual friend) and I kept working to help Sharon.

9:30pm, 23 September 2006
At about 9:30pm, 23 September, Sharon’s spirit appeared to me saying she felt frightened about crossing over. I felt her presence, saw her full body apparition which appeared like a holographic image of her, heard her and knew it was her. I asked her lots of questions.

“Are you telling me that your physical body is still alive at your Mom’s in Mansfield (Ohio)?”

“Yes. I can see it. I’m out of it. I’m scared.”

“Okay. It’s okay, Sharon. It’s time for you to go home.”

“How can I be talking with you at your house, AND still see and feel my physical body a 45 minute drive away from where you are located?”

“I don’t know. I just know that after helping thousands cross over, it’s your turn.”

“But who will take care of Mom?”

“Your mom will be fine. You know she will.”

“But I feel so out of control. What’s happening? How do I do this right?”

“No worries. You already ARE doing this right. Imagine strapping on a parachute, jumping out of an airplane and free falling down to the earth before you pull the cord. You feel weightlessness, right?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m feeling…weightless.”

“You’re crossing over, floating up, instead of falling down, right?”

“Yes, but I still feel scared.”

“Would you say you feel excited instead of scared? You’re just working through it. Your brain is just going through a remembering process here. You’re doing fine. You’re doing something temporarily unfamiliar. Relax.”

“But….”

“It’s time to go rest, Sharon.”

Sharon silenced herself.

“Soon, you’ll see some familiar relatives and angels in the spirit.”

“I still feel too afraid.”

I called June on the phone. “June, Sharon astroprojected her spirit over here. She feels frightened. She needs to hear you tell her what’s happening.”

June held Sharon’s comatose hand and spoke to her daughter. By phone, I coached June telling her what to say to Sharon.

June said, “Her body just relaxed. I could feel it!” As June told Sharon to go toward the light, June felt her daughter’s hand, and saw her body relax. June and I chatted a bit more ending the conversation about 10pm on the 23rd. After that event, I thought Sharon would pass. But she didn’t.

1:30am, September 24th
The next morning, Sharon woke me from sleep. “Sue!” Sharon excitedly whispered. I groggily answered, “What?”, then recognized Sharon’s spirit standing there.

I encouraged her to go to the light. “You’re in the process of going into the light. Look, here’s my son, Jason. His body died at age 12 of a heart problem.” She and Jason exchanged greetings.

I continued introducing her to my deceased friends and relatives. I sensed her feeling secure about leaving her body.

She immediately started talking with these spiritual attendants. Then, she suddenly forgot about struggling anymore. This group evaporated into thin air. About 11am or so, I called to ask Dotty how June was doing. Dotty confirmed that Sharon passed at 1:50am on the 24th.

Do you know someone else who might need crossing over coaching? Susan Fox can be contacted at www.hypnoticbraintalk.blogspot.com or tellthetruth28@yahoo.com.

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Thank you so much Susan! A fantastic story.

Okay, We'll Talk Later - Guest Blogger

2007-06-20T05:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, We'll Talk Later
by guest blogger Anonymous

The stories of the existence of ghosts or spirits can be found in the legends and myths of nearly every civilization, Western and otherwise. Are they the fabrications of people guilty of wishful thinking and unwillingness to let go of deceased loved ones? Or are they "real" in an otherworldly sense?

Me? I absolutely believe in ghosts.

My father passed away when I was about 20 months old, so I never had a chance to know him. Of course I knew what he looked like--Mom made sure to show me his picture all the time--but I didn't have a dad in my life. Well, not in the everyday, clean-your-room-because-I-said-so, Daddy-teach-me-to-ride-my-bike sense. But I always felt his presence beside me--keeping me company, giving me comfort when new things shocked the living daylights out of me as a 3-yr old--I just never realized it was him.

Until I was about four, I was terrified of the dark and couldn't fall asleep unless someone stood guard by my bed. One night, my mother was out for some reason, and my aunt was babysitting me. I wanted to sleep in my mother's bed, so I begged my aunt to stay until I fell asleep. She pulled up an armchair to the bedside and read to me until sleep took me over. I woke in the middle of the night, the room dark save for the light from the hallway. A movement caught my eye, and I sat upright in bed. I glanced over at the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, partly cocked inward.

Daddy was straightening his tie. A dark tie, I think, though it was partially hidden by his lab coat. I blinked at him, not really sure who it was. I gasped and said, "There's a man in the mirror." Then he saw me, and when I recognized him, his reflection smiled at me. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling me to keep quiet, then winked and his smile broadened to a grin.

At my outburst, my aunt--who had fallen asleep in the chair--bolted awake, and said, "What? What?" It was too late, because I fell back on the pillow, fast asleep, as if the experience had knocked me back into unconsciousness.

The next morning, at the breakfast table, my mother quizzed me. I calmly continued eating my French toast and said, "Daddy came to see me last night; he was fixing his tie. May I please have a sausage?"

I'm sure my mother was shocked to hear what I said, and many will just pass it off as a dream by a little kid. Me? I know my dad came to visit me that night. Visitations by the dead are a big part of my heritage.

After my father's death, my mother had several 'visitations' from him. She's told me how in the years immediately following his death, she'd be up late, watching television or reading while in bed. She'd sometimes hear footsteps from the first floor, then the sound would grow louder as the person ascended the staircase. She would get a whiff of cigar smoke, one that she'd identify as Dad's brand. The footsteps would grow louder and louder, but they'd always stop at the door of her bedroom. Once she got up the nerve to look at the doorway, and she saw my dad there, haggard-looking as if he'd just left the hospital or just got out of surgery, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, a smoldering cigar dangling from his fingertips. Then he just disappeared. And she never saw him after that.

When I was about three or four years old, my grandparents came to visit. They would've been in their sixties, at that point, but of course to someone my age, they seemed downright ancient.

One night, my grandpa got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. On the way back to his room, he got turned around and in the pitch darkness, fell down the stairs, mistaking the open staircase for the open doorway to his room. Everyone in the house woke up, and lights were thrown on in mere seconds of his fall.

After Mom checked him out and realized he was fine, Grandpa looked at her and said, "He tried to help me." I remember wondering who Grandpa was talking about, so I waited for Mom to say something. She didn't, so Grandpa continued. "He was here. When I was laying on the floor, he bent over me and tried to pick me up and said, 'Pa, Pa, are you hurt, Pa?'"

Before he was told that my grandmother died, my uncle was unable to sleep one night. He was puttering about the house, when a light caught his eye. When he looked, he realized it was my grandmother, dressed in white and shimmering. He called out to her, but she never answered. He looked away for a split-second, but when he turned back, she was gone. The call from home came about a half-hour later, letting him know that she'd passed away.

When my Grandpa (the same one from above) was dying, he was often incoherent or held long conversations with persons not in the room. My aunt (his niece) had died a few weeks earlier, but no one had informed him. Her body was flown home, and our family was preparing food for after the interment of her body. My aunt (my mom's sister) went to my grandpa's room to check on him, but paused outside the door when she heard him talking.

"Why are you leaving?...Yes, they're preparing food...The feast is for you?...Well, yes, you should watch over them, make sure that everything is okay...Fay, why is the feast for you? Are you dead?...Yes, it's good that you'll be buried here at home. Okay, we'll talk later."

It didn't take long for my aunt to realize Grandpa was speaking to her cousin who had just passed away.

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(Dear readers, this guest blogger chose to remain anonymous due to the very personal nature of her visitations with her departed father, however she feels strongly that her stories may help someone out there who needs reassurance that the dearly departed are not always very far away.)

Thank you for these wonderful stories. What a fascinating family life you've enjoyed!

Her Identity Remains a Mystery - Guest Blogger

2007-06-18T05:06:00.000-07:00

Her Identity Remains a Mystery
by guest blogger Karen Bradley
http://morganmandelbooks.ning.com/profile/449700

My first experience was as a child in the Midwest. My mother and I were living in my grandmother's house after my dad left. It was a small town with small town values. I can remember it as clearly as if it happened yesterday. It was winter and snow had fallen the previous night, creating a white blanket over every yard in the neighborhood. I was with my mother, bundled up in my wool coat, boots, and mittens. We were walking back from the corner gas station where she bought a pack of cigarettes. As we turned to head back to the house, I saw a dowdy looking woman in a brown coat standing on the sidewalk next to my grandmother's house. She was just standing there by herself, not moving. She appeared to be staring at my mother and me as I looked at her. I turned to my mom and asked who she was, since I knew everyone in the neighborhood, and had never seen her before. My mother said she had no idea who she was either and wondered why she was just standing there like that. She thought it was odd behavior. Then as we were both looking at her, she disappeared into thin air. From that day forward, we had numerous encounters with this female ghost in the interior of the house. After I got a little older, I tried to do some research to find out who she was. I was never able to do so. To this day, her identity remains a mystery.

Since moving west, I have had numerous ghostly encounters. The most dramatic was in an apartment I used to rent. I lived alone. One evening as I was stretched out, face down on my bed waiting for sleep to wash over me, I felt the pressure of a large man's hand on my back between my shoulder blades, and the sensation of someone leaning over me. It never entered my head that my intruder was a ghost. I was certain that someone had broken into my apartment and was going to either kill me or rape me or both. It was terrifying. I froze and began to mumble repeatedly into my pillow, "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please don't kill me." I fully expecting to be murdered in my bed. Then as suddenly as I felt his hand on me, I could no longer feel it or the sensation of someone leaning over me. I lay there with my eyes closed for a long time, waiting to hear the sound of the only door in and out of my dwelling, slam. It did not slam. In fact, there were no noises at all, not even footfalls. When I finally got up the courage to investigate, the first thing I saw was that my door was still locked from the inside, as were my windows. At that point, I started to get an idea that what I had experienced was a ghostly encounter, not a living murderer or rapist. I looked in every room and every closet. The man with the big hands was nowhere to be found.

From that night on, he became bolder and bolder. In the early evenings, he took to making a big production of clomping around in my kitchen while I tried to watch TV. Apparently, he wanted me to know he was there. I really didn't want to share my apartment with another living person, let alone a ghost, but he seemed harmless, so I decided to tolerate him. In fact, I verbally told him aloud that he could stay as long as he didn't go into the bathroom while I was in there or touch me. Even though I came to sense his loneliness and felt he posed no threat, I didn't want him touching me. That was just too creepy. However, he didn't want to play by all my rules. Less than a week had passed before I was awakened by his hand on my back again. I angrily sat bolt upright in bed and yelled at him to get the hell out of my apartment and never come back. He obviously left because I never felt his presence again. To this day, I feel a little guilty about tossing him out on his ghostly ear like that, when he was so lonely.

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Thank you Karen, for sharing these moments of your life! The one is somewhat sad, while the second is downright creepy!

Dear Readers, Karen asked me a great question and I would love to know your thoughts. Please feel free to comment upon this: "One thing I am interested in is whether other people tend to experience ghosts more when they are meditating on a regular basis. As an adult, I have noticed that is the case with me. I'm wondering if other people have had the same experience."