Other Planes of Existence

When I was small, someone asked me if I believed in ghosts. I replied that of course I did, didn’t everyone? After all, it went: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Also, I vividly saw people who were not there. Like, fully formed humans no one else could see.

I was assured by many that I had “imaginary friends,” but I also knew they weren’t the sort my peers had. One girl in my class had an imaginary pet snail. I had an imaginary retiree who lived in an apartment building the next town over. We were not the same.

Now, when I begin reading, I immediately gravitated towards ghost stories. Horror became my genre of choice by the time I was in fourth grade, when I first got my hands on a Stephen King short story compilation.  Ghost stories have always been my favorite, whispered at sleepovers, or told while shining a flashlight in your face around a campfire.

Anyway, as time went on, I started to learn about the spiritual side of things, in particular to my life. I went to Lilydale, as I have mentioned before in my blog. I had an experience there where the Medium told me that I myself contain psychic ability. I mostly ignored this. Then, I went to Salem this past  Fall, and a psychic there asked me why I continue to waste my talents. In fact, she told me a lot of things.

One item is that my life will remain on fire until after the New Year. So far, this tracks. Everything remains ablaze, as it has been one emergency after another fir several months now. She did also tell me that this time next year I will look back at this and laugh. I will be in a whole new place, apparently. I am very much looking forward to that.

In the meantime, I’m looking into the psychic thing. When I wrote about my trip, I mentioned that we performed a spell that resulted in Sahar’s purse falling off a desk, totally of its own accord. This, coupled with a few things said by the tarot card reader, led me to believe that my mother has access to the spiritual plane. This was confirmed the other night by my friend Carey, who is often visited by spirits. Her grandmother came to her in a dream and told her that she has been speaking to my mother, who apparently is quite the fighter. This was a sort of aha moment, because I knew, in the way I sometimes know things, that there was a way my mother would be able to communicate on that playing field. Still, I suck at the whole psychic thing because I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I’m reading a lot, and I’m researching a lot, and I’m learning a lot. But I still don’t know what I’m doing. All I have truly figured out so far is that true power comes from within. Now, to unlock that somehow.

Do you believe in ghosts? I’ve always believed in ghosts. I’ve always believed that spirits can hear me when I speak to them, and sometimes they talk back. It’s just hard for us to hear as mortals. Does my rational brain wonder if this is all just indoctrination? Like I said in the beginning, it went: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Of course I wonder. Am I just programmed to believe in the supernatural, or is the supernatural the most natural of all, and we as a species have either dampened our senses, or have yet to unlock them? Oooh, I love a good mystery of the universe.

Anyway, I think that is all for today. I am just up in my head about the God of it all. As per usual.

Happy Monday.

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