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Posts Tagged ‘Ghosts’

“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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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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