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Posts Tagged ‘Spirits’

This world of mine

Has somehow lost its shine

Why I ask

Does it have to be this way

Why does everyone I love have to turn away

Why do they leave til I’m all alone

With a heart so heavy it finds it hard to beat

It shouldn’t be such a mighty feat

My eyes are hurting from unshed tears

Holding tight to all my fears

The pain of it all held deep inside

Is there somewhere safe for me to hide

Why, oh why does it have to be this way

Can I wake up tomorrow to a bright new day

No more hurt or pain nor loneliness

No longer waiting for the blame

A new hurting game

No need to hold my breath

Wondering if this is the final death

Will it always be that way

The sun shines at the start of each new day

It just forgets to light up my way

#thisworld

image from sugaree33-art.deviantart.com

If I screamed to the heavens would they hear me

Would they answer if I cried loudly enough

Has my breaking heart not borne enough

Can they not hear me

Have I paid my way to a peaceful love

Safe from all the hurt and pain

Freed from endless games of shame

The hand that is held out

Is not the hand to hurt

The smile on a face

Doesn’t hide lies like a mill race

Rushing down to sweep me away

A hand to hold the heart with love

A smile that glows with truth from heaven above

How long now until it’s my turn to smile

How long til I hear my loved ones sigh

Is this to be my life

#thisworld

image from housechurchesuk.weebly.com

 

The answer!

Blessings, Susan ♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

 

 

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#Dusk til Dawn

image from onajourneybacktoherwings.blogspot.com

~

The sun’s golden orb slipped slowly from the sky

Down behind the far mountains

Shrouded in mist

Changing colour from white to yellow

Vibrant orange appeared like a painters brush

Swept across the skies

Only to change to a vermillion swirl

Deepening to violet

As the sun finally slipped behind the mountain

Leaving a glowing coronet around its head

~

Sky chasing the sun

Hues blending together to form a deep dreamless dark

So dark it appears black and not blue

Such a wonderful calming hue

Yet on the far horizon a change is seen

A mellow gleam rises it seems from the ocean

Rising majestically

Its white gold hue with shades of gold

That appears there too

Marking the march of time

Until the hour finally arrives

#Dusk til Dawn

image from http://www.youtube.com

~

She slips quietly from her bed

Clothes hidden beneath the stairs

Gathered quickly she changes

Moving silently out the door

The evening rain had swollen the frame

And it squeals in protests at its stealthy close

She stops silently waiting as her heart beats loudly

But silence reigns inside the manse

Slippered feet are soon drenched

Yet her feet flee lightly over the grass

Heading for the welcoming shadow of the trees

Once deeply shaded a large black wolf

Materialises at her side

Smiling she places her hand caressingly on his head

A shimmer ripples around him

Standing there is a tall man, dark of hair

Gazing deeply into each other eyes

They embrace

A timeless love reconnected in forever

~

As they break apart their fingertips barely touching

A shimmering warps the air around them

Standing in their place

The large black wolf and an ethereal white she wolf

Loping off together they join their pack

Racing silently through the night

At rest they lie side by side

His head on her shoulder

Her head resting lovingly on his

As dawn draws near they retrace their path

In deep shadow they wait for the last few moments

Moving slightly apart a simmering warps the air

Standing next to the large black wolf

The ethereal lady in white

Softly caressing his head

She turns and runs quickly back

Tears stream down her face as she reaches the house

As she gazes longing back to the woods

The sun just making its appearance in the heavens

She sees two golden eyes gleaming

As a mournful howl splits the air

Until the morrow whilst the full moon shines

She can visit her true love

And yearn for the turning of the moon

Til she is free to be with him once more.

#Dusk til Dawn

image from blogzorg.ning.com –

~

Blessings  Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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Life was busy in my early thirties. I was married, had two small children and we were running a small business. I was also going to the gym and felt fitter than I can ever remember being in my life so far. Then I started to feel, ‘not quite well’.  Exercise would cure anything, after all it had cured my  weight problem so it would fix this. I exercised harder. I looked better but felt worse. The doctor said I was fine, fit and healthy.

After several years of increasing problems I finally saw a specialist and it was decided I needed a hysterectomy – urgently.  I wasn’t concerned, I had my children and as I explained to the doctor, if anything did happen to one of my children (even though I knew nothing would) there would be no way I would want to try to “replace” them with another child.  I don’t know how much that thought was caused by knowing my children were going to be okay, or the unacknowledged situation which was slowly deteriorating at home. Either way I wanted this problem solving.

I went into hospital and the operation went really well. For the first time in three years I felt really good. Apart from an injunction to rest for several days, no heavy lifting, I was allowed home several days later. Unfortunately my mother in law had been asked to come down and help with the children whilst I was “laid up”. Another irritant, my husband couldn’t be bothered taking a few days off to help me or his children until I could take over again. Work came first, last and everywhere else before his family – oh, apart from his mother that is! (Yes, I realise my feelings have yet to be exorcised about the M.I.L. but that’s another story).

image from iwuvtheoffice.deviantart.com

Two days after I came home I started to haemorrhage slightly. I was doing more than I should, M.I.L. simply didn’t want to really help. Back to the specialist but everything seemed okay. However, by the next day it had become something I couldn’t ignore and I had to tell my husband. Another day went by as I felt things becoming worse. Finally it was apparent that the “wait and see” attitude wasn’t going to work.  It was now Sunday and the caring response was, “Well, let’s wait until tomorrow and see if it has changed at all”. OK, apparently I could bleed to death before it was urgent enough to take me to the hospital.

By 11pm I was really ill. I was losing buckets of blood. (It may be a slight exaggeration but that’s what it felt like). I had become as white as a sheet and finally the decision came to call the doctor.  Would you be impressed to be called at 11pm on a Sunday night? We were sent off to the hospital and whisked into Emergency. Of course, not knowing what had been happening the doctor had instructed the hospital staff to “monitor me for a few hours and let him know how much blood I was actually losing”. In retrospect that was so funny.

Ensconced in a room with an adjoining bathroom I barely heard the door close before I needed to rush into the bathroom; Hubby buzzing frantically for the nurse. Of course, by the time she arrived I was perched on the edge of the bed and she was holding a bedpan for me. Oh – too late! I wasn’t happy to be berated for not waiting, or finding out I was to be monitored for a few hours. Bedpans, oh how I detest bedpans.

image from commons.wikimedia.org –

I was in clean pyjamas so I took the nurse’s advice and climbed into bed. Oh dear! It appeared climbing up into the bed set things moving. I “yelled” reasonably quietly for my hubby to grab the bedpan and precariously climbed “on board”. Well, she had her sample to check but the altitude (or the blood loss) had an unexpected effect.

Weaving atop my bedpan I said, “You’d better call the nurse, I’m going to pass out!” Nurse appeared and bedpan was unceremoniously removed as I said, “I’m going over now” and backwards I toppled. There was a delicious feeling of floating and I watched the scene from above the bed. Mayhem ensued. The nurse called the sister who called the doctor on duty. From somewhere another sister appeared.

image from astralsociety.net

There I lay with someone at each arm and leg, blood pressure cuff tight and everyone patting an arm or leg and none too gently, trying to find a vein. My blood pressure reading had tanked. I got the giggles. I felt as though I was watching everything from a huge distance, my hubby wringing his hands in the corner. I heard my voice saying, “It’s alright, it’s not my time to go yet.” The startled looks set me to giggling once more. There was a feeling of drifting away yet being connected to what was happening. Sometime later I realised I was looking at a nurse who was looking somewhat uncomfortable and an IV line was in my hand. Whilst I knew on one level it was wrong I have to admit I felt strangely vindicated when I saw the ashen look on my hubby’s face.

After an emergency operation I woke to find my hand the size of a grapefruit. The IV needle had “tissued” (gone through the vein and into the tissue) and I was uncomfortable. Actually it bloody hurt! Even though the emergency staff had put the IV in, because I had health cover, now that I was no longer “in danger” it could only be changed by a private pathology nurse.  You guessed it, they wouldn’t be on duty for several more hours. They refused to let me sign a waiver, I had to wait until someone came on duty and in the meantime the fluid in my hand continued to build up. Each inadvertent movement was excruciating.

Four hours later I had the IV moved, but my hand took days to recover. Strange that it was my hand I was more concerned about. My specialist popped in to see me. Apparently I had managed to lose a critical amount of blood, much more and they wouldn’t have been able to ‘save me.” I felt like saying “I told you so” but didn’t. He said they couldn’t find any reason for the haemorrhaging but neither could they refute that it had occurred. Tied up tighter than a trussed turkey I was allowed home several days later.

I have no idea ‘where’ I went when all the drama happened. I felt serenely peaceful and had the feeling that I was being told so many things, but I couldn’t remember anything later. I still believe that when the time is right I will remember. It was the most amazing feeling I’ve ever had, and telling everyone ‘it wasn’t my time to go yet’ still has the power to make me giggle. I simply knew that although it was really serious, everything was going to be fine. I wasn’t finished with this life; I had too much to do.

image from justchow.blogspot.com

Live life to the fullest and never ever look back, there is a reason for the future and a reason for the past. Love till it hurts and laugh till you cry and when your life flashes before you, make it worth while. Be happy for what you have done, and be happy for what you have over come, and most of all always be proud of what you have become.”   – Ritu Ghatourey

Some things as easy to explain. Some simply seem strange. Some are taken on faith or belief. I know what happened and one day I’ll remember what I need to from this experience. Years later I still find it funny.

.

Blessings.  Susan  x

© Susan Jamieson

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image from psychicconnextions.blogspot.com

Time is passing and never so quickly as this lead up to the festive season.  The original countdown of “the Twelve Days of Christmas” was  something played in all the shops, churches and homes all around me when I was growing up.  At times I miss the reminders from my childhood, they had a certain familiarity to them. We could, with absolute certainty, mark down the days to “the big one”  after hearing this song every day.  Like the Advent calendars our children used to love opening up each day, they formed a reliable measure of time, time already passed and time still to go. It had its own way of engaging the mind, heart and spirit and increasing that wonderful anticipation of what was to come.

It didn’t matter if you were religious or not, the celebration would go on and the true roots of the celebration and songs were lost in the annals of time. It’s how religions overtook each other and left only remnants behind.  It’s also only in recent years that the arguments over what we are celebrating and who the celebrations belong to have arisen to cast a cloud over what has been a joyous time between the darkness and dreariness of winter and the coming of spring. Perhaps it is easier to remember why Christmas was celebrated with such joy when you recall the old days, the conditions people lived under and how the turning of the seasons held such an importance to them.

Yet that is another story in itself.  Battling my demons, and when I say this I think of a children’s animated movie called “Sword in the Stone”.

image from tumblr.com

After a monumental and hilarious battle between the witch and Merlin, the witch finds herself bested, confined to bed , green with purple, red and blue polka dots covering her and the antidote – sunshine.  On hearing this there is a wonderful rant and she screeches “I hate  horrible, wholesome sunshine”.  I’m sorry to say sunshine and I don’t mix. I burn like flammable material, finish up looking like a well cooked lobster minus the butter sauce, but nowhere near as tasty! I hide from one air conditioned place to another throughout the heat of the summer, grateful for the sunshine and rain, in moderation, but equally grateful to return to cooler days as autumn finally arrives.  But I digress, these were the demons I referred to.

The Universe looks after us at all times, even when unasked, even if we don’t believe.  I do believe and I was immensely grateful that I was paying attention to what was happening today.  I was in one of my favourite haunts, a bookstore, searching for a gift for my daughters boyfriend.  No hardship there, it took my attention from aching back and feet and the truckload of packages we were juggling. I had seen the book I thought would be ideal but decided to ponder a little more as I lost myself amongst the shelves of books.  With time and my back  telling me I needed to make a decision I asked Ray to collect the book I had seen an hour earlier.

He was standing not two feet from me with the book in his hand when it suddenly flew out of his hand and landed in the aisle. The lady standing next to him looked startled to say the least, but then again, so did I.  Rule number one, and totally inviolate, you cannot buy a book or give one as a gift if it has been on the ground before being given to the recipient. Especially if it may have, heaven forbid, a crinkled edge. A dog-eared book is a sacrilege! Yes I have strange “rules”.   The book was fine but for me that was it, that book would not be leaving th shop with me. It was also the only one of its kind in the store.

image from thebaremidriff.blogspot.com

We left, one gift not purchased and I was sore and disappointed.  On the way home my phone rang. I was not really inclined to answer but I knew it was my daughter calling, “thank heavens for little girls” (Maurice Chevalier), and I knew I needed to take it.  We talked of Christmas and shopping and gifts, and books, a book for her boyfriend.  I could buy David Gemmell or Raymond Feist, (I almost bought this), but put it back when I saw a Brent Weeks omnibus. It was the omnibus which went flying.  This was the ONLY book I could not buy she said – because she had already bought it for him, but Raymond Feist would be brilliant!

I may have to make another trip to a bookstore – such a hardship for me (ahem!) but I know what I will be buying. (Well, at least one of the books I will buy).  I am so grateful Spirit was watching over me today and helped me from buying the wrong thing. Talk about ‘right timing’, I was trying to be so mindful of all the recommendations she had passed on previously and had started to get tired. I was fully present with the situation, in my favourite store I am always fully present. Ok, I was fully present with the task at hand.  Even in a bookstore I eventually still get tired.  I was concentrating on her boyfriend, being fully present with all I knew about him and what I was trying to do, because buying a book a really important, it has to fit with the receiver or I’ve failed!  I thought I had succeeded when, whoosh, through the air it went. I got the message, and I fully accept that without Spirit’s help I would have bought the wrong thing and would have had to exchange it – if I could.

I am very happy, truly grateful for my Guidance, love shopping with my husband (it’s a special treat), have that wonderful feeling of peace inside because I know Spirit is with me always, and I can spread my attitude of gratitude around the world for everyone to share. Thank you Nicole, thank you Ray and thank you, my wonderful spiritual helpers and Magical Beings everywhere.

image from virtualbeauties.blogspot.com

May you find magic in your life today and everyday within the small or large appearance of gratitude in our lives.

“When we become more fully aware that our success is due in large measure to the loyalty, helpfulness, and encouragement we have received from others, our desire grows to pass on similar gifts. Gratitude spurs us on to prove ourselves worthy of what others have done for us. The spirit of gratitude is a powerful energizer”. – Wilferd A. Peterson

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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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“And if tonight my soul may find her peace
in sleep, and sink in good oblivion,
and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower
then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.”
-D.H. Lawrence

woman with neck pain

image courtesy of hancockchiropractic.com
There are so many differing reasons for not sleeping, from the obvious, simply not tired, or perhaps something preying on your mind and you cannot, try as you might, find the means to quieten your thoughts enough to reach slumber. You could, of course, simply be dropping in and out of sleep, for me that’s even worse, and infinitely more tiring.

Tonight, though I have tried many things, I am thinking of later today. I am not worried, at least not overmuch about it, but I have the next stage of my medical procedure to face, and despite being reconciled to it, I am thinking over the – possibilities. The thought of having to undergo the thirty-two needles again, in order to have the nerves heated until they die, is in itself awesome. The ‘trial run’ with the medial branch block, was, in itself painful enough. It has caused a few restless nights and even more tired and restless days. It is to be expected, but it is none the less, unpleasant. I would be more than a fool not to be concerned, and I haven’t been accused of that for many a long time. Perhaps it is the thought of it being my neck which is to undergo the procedure first. My back is scheduled for next week.

medial branch ablation neck

image medivisuals.com

I have been advised of all the pros and cons. I am aware that for a week afterwards the pain is increased, significantly. There is so much to do and I am concerned that being ‘laid up’ may cause a problem with getting things done. It’s always the way. I have three appointments next week, other than this, and being ‘off my game’ is not the way I prefer to approach them. Since there is no other choice available, I have to make the nest of it. Some would say that is brave, however I see only the practicality of the situation and will try to muddle through. For me, failure is not an acceptable option.

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
Winston Churchill

As I lay in bed tonight I listened to my Mopoke Owl, calling, not mournfully, but comfortingly to me:” All will be well” and I will overcome the inconvenience of tight scheduling. After all, it is my responsibility that caused the tight schedule in the first place. I allowed myself to put off these procedures because there was so many other things happening. Now, everything has bunched up and if I want to get it over and done with I have to put up with the pain and inconvenience. Simple semantics really.

So, I give thanks for the benefit of make up! Vanity perhaps, but under the mask I paint I can attempt to hide any pain or suffering I am feeling. I can talk brightly and make jokes and long for the meeting to be over so I can slink into self-pity for a wee while. In truth it will be the drive home which will cause the most discomfort since I cannot brace my neck and I cannot make the trip any shorter. Thankfully, it should only be an hour or so each way! Not too much really.

woman in masked make up

image courtesy of 123rf.com

I am trying to focus on my father in-laws coming eightieth birthday. He is being given a surprise birthday party, and since I am new to the family, it will be wonderful to have all the family together to share such a wonderful event. It is especially treasured since both my parents have passed away, and I miss not being able to share these milestones with them. I suppose I might be a little envious too since I would have loved knowing I had these milestones to celebrate with them – in the flesh at least. I am comforted in knowing that they are no longer in pain, and I can talk to them day and night and know they hear me, and speak with me. Life take such strange twists and turns really. They are, in truth, only a thought away.

talking with spirits
image yukisplayground.webs.com

So, I have this weeks treatment on my neck, (I guess I’ll be stiff-necked over the issue) and then next Monday the rather more painful treatment on my back. The fact that it is more painful is surprising for the doctors, but as I explained to them, it has been thirteen years getting to this point. I cannot expect that it would be a walk in the park, however much I might wish it so. The week following that is expected to be quite unpleasant. I then have a weeks grace afterwards when I can gather my resources and hope everything goes well. I will need it to get myself organized for the trip down south. After all, it is for an important event and I need to do all the usual vanity things, such as getting my hair and nails done, and getting a nice outfit organized! There has to be some upside to this.

We are planning on taking our time, easy stages and then afterwards, having a small belated honeymoon. I am looking forward to that, and, laptop in hand, will be looking forward to some lighthearted blogs about the party and the holiday. The gift of having time to rest and recuperate, take our exploring at our own pace, is an immense gift in itself. It’s something we haven’t done for an age and I feel the need to simply ‘be’. I know my friend will understand that only too well. As my grandmother would have said, “It will be grand”. It certainly will!

Kiama
image besthoneymoonideas.org

“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.”
Khalil Gibran

Sometimes, all we need is to look on the bright side of life. My husband will be there and he is the best antidote and nurse I know. I am most surely fortunate.

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