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Archive for the ‘Ghosts and Spirits’ Category

Now that I’m tucked back in my bed

Was it really just in my head

Or a vivid dream

Or perhaps some kind of future warning

Perhaps a memory of a past dawning

No matter, it made my blood curdle as I did scream

The night was dark, almost moonless

Thunderheads piled high in the sky

Lightening flashes to make you breathless

As I crept out into the night feeling shy

The house was old and deserted

Ivy thick on its crumbling walls

No smoke drifted from its chimneys

Neither were footsteps heard in the halls

It was said you could hear ghosts footfalls

A high wall ran round three sides of the house

Both sides and the rear it seemed

So close you could almost touch its walls

Should I accept the dare that was called

Climb to the top and walk those walls

Crazy and foolish it sounded even now

Caught tightly in the web of this weave

Was it a spell someone cast over me

I know it was almost impossible to believe

image from undertheglass.net

Somehow I climbed that high wall

And balanced on its pointed top

Slippery with dew and ivy leaves

I trembled as I stumbled along

How would I get around the corner

What if I saw something looking out

Those things mattered not to my questing feet

I had to keep moving of that there was no doubt

Along the first wall and around that corner

The moonlight and lightning just enough to see

Across the back and near the kitchen

I swear I saw someone looking back at me

One final turn  and on the last beat

At last the third wall I traversed

When all of a sudden an owl hooted close by

And I slipped off that wall neath my feet

Between wall and house my head rebounded

Not a whimper did I make in pain

Praying that the ghostly apparition inside

Would not hear the noise that I made

As winded  I  kept to my feet and floundered

To the walkway in front of the house

I have no clear recollection

Of how I escaped from the park

Booming noises pounded inside my head

Fear gave my heart such a start

Mocking laughter echoes softly after me

As I stumbled away in the night

Too afraid to look behind me

Afraid what I might see in the moonlight.

image from fotozup.com

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“I’ve always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.”    David Benioff, City of Thieves

In between bouts of insomnia or restless sleep due to the nasty bug reactions I’m having, I am now sleeping really soundly.  That in itself may not seem like a big deal, but for someone who has spent the past decade sleeping in micro nana naps it really is something special.  It also means that I’m dreaming again, and an even greater gift is that I’m remembering them.  Of course that doesn’t mean they’re all full of fluff and puppies, there are some quite unreal and surreal dreams happening too. That’s what happened the other night.

The evening had been really nice but unremarkable. We had watched a little light tv and read for a short time before lights out.  I remember hearing the birds calling at one point, which I thought was quite unusual. Way off in the background I heard an owl calling and thought that he had upset the local Currawongs.  At least that’s what I thought at the time.

I suddenly found myself deep in a dream, a dream I remember vividly even now.

Even though it was daylight I could hear an Owl calling softly on the breeze.

I was ‘with’ a group of young people who were on a final outing before they finished their high school year.  It was a special trip to what appeared to be an island. There were sandy tracks and a largish building like an old timber schoolroom with tables and chairs inside. There were room dividers and blackboards on the walls, chalk on the side table and of course a teacher. I don’t remember how we reached the island, we were simply there.

The strange thing was the ‘teacher’ wasn’t teaching a normal subject. They were talking about preparing for entering the ‘real world’, the ‘adult world’ and how they needed to prepare themselves to ‘fit in’.  The girls were being told how to wear the correct clothes, make up and how to speak correctly when they were ‘outside’.  The boys on the other hand were off on the other side of the room being spoken to by a man, who I presumed was a male ‘teacher’. At times there would be some noise, laughter that was quieted and then one of the boys would vanish ouside.

It all seemed fairly normal…… but there was such an air of unreality to it that I started to take a little more notice.  Even though I was there, no one spoke directly to me. I could see the girls scribbling and doodling on pieces of paper but I didn’t have a seat, nor was I ‘teaching’. I was, in a very real sense, simply an observer.  It was almost as though I was watching over them and yet I couldn’t work out why, and all the time I could hear the Owl mournfully calling.

The girls were getting restlesss. They wanted to return, although I had no clear idea where they were returning to. The ‘teacher’ was starting to look a little menacing, which was more a feeling than anything she did.  However I noticed that the boys who had gone outside hadn’t made a reappearnace.  It felt really strange to be moving towards the doorway. I wasn’t walking, there was no sound of footsteps on the wooden floor. In fact, the entire time I had been there I couldn’t recall any sound of footsteps on the floor. The only sounds were those of the youths as they talked amongst themselves and became more unhappy at staying where they were.

As I went outside I heard a strange thumping noise and the sound of soft crying.  Rounding the side of the building I was met with a horrific sight. One boy was crouched in a tight ball near the building, trying to stifle his sobs. Meanwhile there was a thud which brought my eyes round to a scene from a torture chamber, but in a terrifying modern setting.

There was a contraption fixed to a tree which was hauling an old car body into the air by thick ropes. After an achingly long time, or so it seemed to me, there was a clunck as a ratchet let loose and the car body dropped onto the other boy kneeling in the sand. His head disappeared inside the car body, the car itself seeming to rest on his shoulders.  Although I gasped there was no reaction from the man, and the boy simply sobbed softly. In horror I saw the car body rise and the boys head reappeared. He seemed unhurt, his clothing torn, but scared almost beyond endurance.

Hearing a noise inside I turned to look through the door. Inside I was met by an eerie sight. All the schoolkids were arrayed around the table, exactly as they had been when I first saw them. Behind each person was the spirit of that child in ghostly outline.  They were all sitting there smiling happily, yet of the two adults, the ‘teachers’ there was no sign at all.

The only sound I could hear was the soft hoot of an owl telling me all was well in the world. He was keeping his watch and all was well.

I cannot explain my dream, perhaps over time the meaning will come to me. Until then, perhaps you may have an idea. Perhaps its message is meant for…. you?

The Bat that flits at close of Eve

Has left the Brain that won’t believe.

The Owl that calls upon the Night

Speaks the Unbeliever’s fright.” William Blake quotes

All is well in the world. We are all being looked after.  Blessings.   Susan xx

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A Powerful Owl sitting on a tree branch

 Ralph Waldo Emerson quote

It is recognised that when something happens in threes it is a sign, or an indication that we need to pay attention to what is happening – there is a message there for us, if we can but read or hear it.

Traveling home from visiting friends tonight I was surprised and pleased to see a beautiful Powerful Owl sitting in the fork of a tree, calmly watching what we were doing.  I think we were rather too large for a meal, but the careful and considered look he gave me was enough to make me stop and wonder – was he trying to simply be noticed or was he trying to tell me something? Perhaps it was as simple as his next meal, which was hiding nearby as he was waiting for us to leave, but I had a feeling there was more to his impressive gaze than that. The question was – what?

image from mtnmatthews.blogspot.com

Driving along the country roads I was keeping an eye out for the “Kangawallafoxes” as my husband calls them. In other words the kangaroos, wallabies or foxes which are known to suddenly hop pr run out of the scrub along the side of the road. It can be a nasty surprise and make your journey come to a crashing halt!

However, it was not one of the usual creatures which caused the sudden startled intake of breath this night, it was the sudden and of course silent swoop of an owl across the road directly in front of us. He was beautiful and it would have been a glorious picture, but since I wasn’t thinking about taking a photo, I didn’t have the camera ready. It looked very similar to the photo I found, but it hardly captures the surprise I felt at seeing him.  So that was number two for the evening, and a very impressive reminder that something must be afoot. What was I supposed to be aware of and what was I missing?

We have quite a few owls around our place and I love hearing them call at different times, and I have been lucky enough to see them, although usually without a camera.  We were almost home when a huge owl suddenly seemed to swoop up towards the car, hitting the windscreen cleanly in the middle. He slid off the side and we pulled frantically off to the other side of the road so we wouldn’t hit him by accident.

He lay there on the road and I was amazed at how large he looked close up. It was another Powerful Owl. I felt awful at hitting him, even though we hadn’t actually driven into him, more he flew into us – but then the effect was the same. Being extra careful of those deadly talons and beak we wrapped him in a thick blanket from the car and carried him to the grass at the side if the road where we could see him in the headlights.  After carefully unwrapping him it was difficult to see if he was injured at all. There was definitely no blood, the blanket ( a pale one) was clean and there didn’t appear to be any blood on his feathers. At least there was no glistening tell-tale marks on his feather which we could see.

Powerful Owl takes off as though nothing has happened.

He suddenly seemed to give himself a shake and was on his feet in a flash. He looked around at us, measuring us up for a meal I wondered? Then after what seemed an age but was probably barely minutes, he fluffed his feathers and took off into the night, apparently none the worse for his crash landing with our car.

Not so our windscreen which had a crack completely down the middle!  So, three visits in one evening. Far too much for sheer coincidence, but I have yet to work out what their message is.  As for an exciting end to the evening, it most definitely was.

Our usual view of the Powerful Owl at home. Beautiful isn’t he?

For me this was a special occasion, one to be mindful of as I sit under a full moon, pondering what new beginnings this portent means. I am being present with the spirits who are sending me this messenger, so full of love that this has happened. I am indeed grateful that life is so full of wonderful and unexpected surprises. I am truly blessed tonight.

 Charles Dickens quotes 

Here’s hoping you are as lucky as I and I can work out what my owl visitors are telling me.  Happy Full Moon people.

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bureau with drawers open

image courtesy of dollshousespastandpresent.com

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“When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night with things still undone in life, they approximate my subjective experience of this life.
Jack Henry Abbott

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As strange as it may sound, the first physical evidence of my other worldly visitor came one sunny day when I was at home alone.  I was studying for exams and it was very quiet – without my brothers around! I was sitting in the lounge, surrounded by my books when I thought I heard a noise upstairs. At first I put it down to the neighbour moving things around, but a check revealed the neighbours were out.  Ten minutes later there was another sound, louder and longer, the sound of furniture being pushed across the floor, coming from my parent bedroom.  You simply cannot mistake the sound of a heavy bureau being pushed across the floor.

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I stopped, listened intently and was about to begin studying again when I heard one of the drawers being opened. This particular bureau was quite old and the drawers had swollen,whch meant they squealed loudly when they were opened and closed. This had now become something I was feeling decidedly ‘not amused’ about. Not only were strange and unexplainable noises coming from directly overhead but there was no-one within cooee who was at home or expected home any time soon.  Then there was a flurry of drawers opening and closing in rapid succession!

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Books closed and held tightly I sat there staring towards the ceiling. I have no idea what I was expecting to see, thankfully nothing.  Quiet ensued. I was just beginning to persuade myself that I had imagined the entire episode when the cutlery in the kitchen bureau, directly behind me suddenly rattled as though someone was rifling through them. OH NO!   I was not impressed. I couldn’t decide if I was outflanked or trapped.  The only way out was through the kitchen, right where the kitchen bureau was. This was developing into a Laurel and Hardy comedy, only I wasn’t laughing.  Over heated imagination? No-one would ever convince me of that.

someone getting a fright

image courtesy of jigsawslair.blogspot.com

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Heartbeat returning to near normal and determined to remain inside to continue studying, I had just laid out my books again when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, footsteps laboriously coming down the stairs from our bedrooms. My eyes glued to the door into the lounge as I grabbed my books as quietly as I could. Why? I have no idea, my visitor knew I was there so who was I kidding?  The footsteps continued slowly as I counted the steps down.  At the bottom there was a pause. As the door suddenly creaked open I was rushing madly for the kitchen door. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden studying, alternately watching the upstairs windows and the kitchen door.  Whilst I saw him in my brothers window looking out I thankfully didn’t hear any further noises downstairs or near the door.

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That was my one and only scary episode. I still saw him in my parents room and the cold became even more intense from there. So much so that my mother remarked on it. They never mentioned the bureau being moved so I cannot explain it, except to say that’s exactly what it sounded like and the picture in my head bore that out.  I felt his cold ethereal presence in my room on occasion when I couldn’t sleep, or if I suddenly woke, and at those times I feigned sleep.  He didn’t make me feel comfortable enough to let him know I was awake.  It was the same feeling I got when I was walking around Port Arthur many years later, where I know unimaginable horrors occurred.

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The epitaph to the story. I learned that the previous owner had been left by his family and he had become terminally ill. He had committed suicide in my parents bedroom.  Apparently the house had remained empty for a long time, several people had bought it but hadn’t stayed long before reselling it.  The rest of my family didn’t feel or sense the unhappy fellow, although Mum made some unusual comments many years later about feeling uncomfortable in her room at night, on occasions, and how cold the room became.   If I had known then what I know now it may have been a different story.  As trite as it sounds I know I was fortunate not to ‘come face to face’ with my spirit at that time. He was upset and angry and I was ill prepared to handle that.

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Perhaps I made a small difference though. I heard from the new owners several years later that they were extremely happy in the house and there were no unusual happenings any longer.  ( A small town and everyone knows the history of  what had happened there). That being so I’m grateful I may have been of some small help to him. I know I prayed for him many times.  Perhaps that was why he was drawn to me.  I’ll never really know. It was an interesting time, exciting, a little frightening and  very enlightening.  If it happened again I would know how to handle the situation instead I made it into a comedy of errors which amused my family for a long time.

Patrick Swazye Ghost
image courtesy of  justpressplay.net

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One of my favourite films which shows Patrick Swayze about to go into the light after he had finished protecting his wife. Beautiful!

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ghost lady

image courtesy of vileyonderboy.deviantart.com

“There are an infinite number of universes existing side by side and through which our consciousnesses constantly pass. In these universes, all possibilities exist. You are alive in some, long dead in others, and never existed in still others. Many of our “ghosts” could indeed be visions of people going about their business in a parallel universe or another time — or both.”                          PAUL F. ENO, Faces at the Window

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Ghosts, spirits, they conjure up so many images and thoughts that it is difficult to separate fact from fiction, and of course that all depends on which side of the fence you are on.  There are statements ranging from complete and utter faith in spirits visiting us to the polar opposite, that they are nothing but a figment of an overheated imagination, and any and all variations in between.

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I know spirits exist. I believe that death is simply a transition to another state of being which, one day I will also belong to. I also know that spirits communicate with us and if we are ‘in tune’ with the signs of their communication we understand that they are here if not seen. It can be frustrating feeling their energy present, seeing the physical demonstration of their attempts to communicate and not being able to see them.  Some of the more common signs are flickering lights for no apparent reason, lights and other electrical equipment suddenly turning on or off, especially music, things moved around the house or familiar scents which are closely associated with someone who has passed away.

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All of these signs I take as evidence of their existence would be hotly debated and debunked, if possible, by sceptics. That is their right and they are entitled to their opinion, even if I feel they are misguided. Free will gives us that choice.  However, I received proof, which I believe is incontrovertible, that spirits do exist.

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As a teenager in the UK I was fascinated by different religious beliefs, and in particular if there was anything after this life. I found it implausible that this life was all there was, and after the lights went out in this lifetime that would be it…. darkness forever. It seemed a fruitless waste of time. Reincarnation, in some form became realistic and if that was the case then why could there not be something else, those ghost sightings and stories, might they also have some truth in them? Parallel universe or dimensions, inhabiting the same time and space but out of sync with us. Anything could be possible.

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I was walking along the street leading to my home when I chanced to look up towards the house, to the bedroom window where my parents room was.  As clearly as I see ‘you’ I saw a man looking steadily out of the window. The curtains were in place and the lace was unmoved yet I could see him quite clearly. He was not anyone I knew or recognised.  My family was home, in the lounge and no-one was upstairs. So who was this mystery man?  At the time I felt uncomfortable about saying anything, knowing my three brothers would ridicule my over active imagination. Yet the thought wouldn’t go away and as I passed the door each night I could ‘feel’ a presence inside.

male ghost

image courtesy of beyond-known.com.

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I saw him many times after that, almost as if he was waiting for me to be walking up that street, the most direct route from the bus stop to home. It didn’t matter what time of the day or night it was. Even when winter fell we had a street light outside the house so the front of the house was well-lit and there he would be, clearly visible to me at least. He never moved whilst I walked along the street, and those lace curtains never moved either. As time passed his piercing stare seemed to be an invitation to step into that room – alone – and see him.  Yet the feeling of cold emanating from my parents room grew more intense as tie went by, a cold which had nothing to do with the time of day or season.   It took over a year before I ventured in there alone and then the strange occurrences came even faster. To me they were proof that I was not imagining what was happening and also that there were spirits with good and bad intentions just the same as the living.

usual image of ghosts

image courtesy of hauntedamericatours.com

This is what most people see of spirits, on my visit to Port Arthur I was able to see in my photos many such inexplicable images. My ghost on the other hand was much more solid-looking, looked very real in fact and had the ability to move things around.

“A ghost is someone who hasn’t made it – in other words, who died, and they don’t know they’re dead. So they keep walking around and thinking that you’re inhabiting their – let’s say, their domain. So they’re aggravated with you. ”    Sylvia Browne

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