tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75913755939461226062024-03-14T03:18:33.412-04:00The Reluctant MediumSeeing & hearing dead people is something I've avoided all my life...until now.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-66638332726657230472009-05-03T16:11:00.002-04:002009-05-03T16:13:29.374-04:00The Reluctant Medium Has Moved!I've moved my blog to a new home! <a href="http://reluctantmedium.com">Check it out</a> and adjust your bookmarks so you don't miss anything. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-46920824579099117232009-04-09T22:07:00.006-04:002009-04-10T00:01:00.189-04:00Psychics, Ghosts, Astrology, Paranormal, Hauntings<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Another insightful article by Melissa Van Rossum (with some comments from me!)<br /><br /></span></span>About a decade ago I was attending a church that sent out the minister’s upcoming sermons in their newsletter. Over the next month he would be teaching on “The Evils of Psychics, Astrology, Tarot and the Paranormal”<br /><br />Uh-huh. That marked the last Sunday I attended that church.<br /><br />A friend suggested I make an appointment with the minister and perhaps do a reading for him. She thought that might open his mind.<br /><br />I didn’t follow through on that idea partly out of fear of what that minister’s potential reaction might be. He ran (and still runs) one of the largest conservative churches in Atlanta and wields a considerable amount of influence. If he had decided to toss my name out to the congregation that week I might still be getting phone calls. At the time I didn’t see much sense in stepping out in front of what looked to me like an oncoming bus.<br /><br />But I also declined because the point of my readings and abilities are not to convert or to prove anything to anyone really.<br /><br />I often wonder what that minister and the church members must think today of the popularity of Medium, Ghost Whisperer, Psychic Kids - Children of the Paranormal, Ghost Hunters, Paranormal State and Ghost Hunters International.<br /><br />Even though they’re an organization that, in part, teaches a belief in life after death, I doubt they’d be open to any truth other than their strict interpretation of what happens after you die.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ahhh, it’s my childhood all over again.</span><br /><br />But thankfully, the veil continues to lift and their are more psychics and mediums living out loud who voice their experiences. God bless you all.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.theirwayhome.com/">www.theirwayhome.com</a><br /><a href="http://www.allyouveeverknown.com/">www.allyouveeverknown.com</a><br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/ghostguide">www.twitter.com/ghostguide</a><br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/spiritualceo">www.twitter.com/spiritualceo</a><br /><a href="http://www.blogtalkradio.com/divinesuccess">www.blogtalkradio.com/divinesuccess</a><br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">Here's what I think:</span><br /><br />You’ve probably noticed by now, I’m a fan of Melissa’s work. I frequently agree and relate to what she has to say, which is why I choose to share certain articles of hers with you. This particular post struck a cord and hit close to home with me. I recently had someone walk out of my life abruptly after learning of my abilities. I had become close to their family over the past 5+ years. She chose to cut off contact due to her religious beliefs, thereby, me being a “<span style="font-style: italic;">danger</span>” to her children. I was then written a letter outlining all of the biblical proof (and I use that word loosely here) that I was surrounded by nothing but “<span style="font-style: italic;">evil spirits and demons</span>”. I know the intention of that letter was to sway me towards the god she claims exists, but completely achieved the opposite. It is that close-mindedness that I want no part of.<br /><br />Mostly I am saddened that she is operating on a daily basis out of fear. I’ve lived that life. It is <span style="font-weight: bold;">not</span> a fun way to live.<br /><br />I am also saddened by what her children may think of me. I had a bond with those kids and would never want them to believe I am “<span style="font-style: italic;">evil</span>” or would ever cause them harm.<br /><br />I would love to live in a world where people think outside the little boxes they cram themselves into.<br /><br />I would love to live in a world where anything is possible. A world where it could even be possible that our faiths and belief structures may not be exactly right…and accept and embrace that. Be open to the possibilities.<br /><br />A world where what happens after we die may not be as clear cut as some think.<br /></blockquote>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-20048967927422813162009-04-02T20:17:00.002-04:002009-04-02T20:41:03.434-04:00Enter to win a DVD of Waverly Hills: The True Story<script src="http://reluctantmedium.cheddrmedia.com/js/121-Give-us-your-best-paranormal-experience.js" type="text/javascript"></script>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-51775975733049464062009-03-29T23:53:00.017-04:002009-04-14T13:18:08.399-04:00My Haunted House ~ Part IX: The PoltergeistBelieve it or not, not all of my experiences are dealings with dead folks. I have found I have some other abilities as well. Soon I will delve more into some skills I have recently discovered I’m pretty proficient at, such as remote viewing and psychometry. But this story is about an ability I hope I never bring forth again.<br /><br />I find that during emotionally charged times in my life, the ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">activity</span>’ increases. Which is a fairly common thing, really. This particular series of events was somewhat concerning for me though. It started with a knocking that seemed to be coming from my walls. And seemed to follow me wherever I went. Some knocks were faint, but others were down right undeniable. While I found this annoying, living in this house, I wasn’t alarmed so much as just wondering how long I was going to have to put up with this!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2B1kc8fv76UuwR5RRfKGTMtD8uwVi2sGr1rbDGa4DeI5Z7kA7saTqgtgv7fV0tc0yfb5MK26ONDnKg3CNu88sIC9gSTUMqDo9HWqB1AJZm-vJ-k2rjURe62eW5aR0upRRAiDcSSsqtiN2/s1600-h/burning-match.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2B1kc8fv76UuwR5RRfKGTMtD8uwVi2sGr1rbDGa4DeI5Z7kA7saTqgtgv7fV0tc0yfb5MK26ONDnKg3CNu88sIC9gSTUMqDo9HWqB1AJZm-vJ-k2rjURe62eW5aR0upRRAiDcSSsqtiN2/s200/burning-match.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318825619585612946" border="0" /></a>The next day, however, I became concerned as I started to smell the overwhelming smell of sulphur. As if someone had lit a match, but minus the smoke smell. I smelled it at home, then later in the car. And I was picking the kids up from the sitter, several others smelled it too and began to investigate the possibilities of the smell's origin.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />What IS that?</span><br /><br />Driving home, I noticed the gauges in my car started going wonky while I was in it. Needles jumping all over the place! 25 mph. No, wait, 90 mph. Half a tank of gas. No, wait, full, no empty....etc.<br /><br />I was experiencing a new type of disturbance that was freaking me out. And it did not end there.<br /><br />But before anything else happened, I turned to my old friend, google, for some research time. I looked up why I would be smelling the sulphur smell obviously not limited to one location.<br /><br />What I found did not make me feel any better. After sifting through a ton of crap mixed in with some relevant information, I narrowed it down to a possibility of three things:<br /><br /><blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmshPCpGFYIcOkXHs9r762gGTqiXPfbgphCh3yoLH7BtbZR_CvYgwARZdHev3wBLn5hyJRg97weKhyphenhyphenUhtDGq7vz1MFY6PBvtcEhC5Zc1_oe5ok6zFcM29V-AD1yoLjf7JFupdn8nHUj6D-/s1600-h/alien.jpg.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmshPCpGFYIcOkXHs9r762gGTqiXPfbgphCh3yoLH7BtbZR_CvYgwARZdHev3wBLn5hyJRg97weKhyphenhyphenUhtDGq7vz1MFY6PBvtcEhC5Zc1_oe5ok6zFcM29V-AD1yoLjf7JFupdn8nHUj6D-/s320/alien.jpg.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318832243378071794" border="0" /></a>1) <span style="font-weight: bold;">A Brain Tumor</span>: Apparently, a common symptom of a brain tumor is smelling sulphur. Who knew? I did not. I pretty much ruled this one out straight away because of the fact that at least 3 other intelligent and functioning adults smelled it too. Unless we all have the same brain tumor, this can’t be my cause. On to possibility 2,<br /><br />2) <span style="font-weight: bold;">Aliens</span>: Well, I believe in aliens…are they hunting me or something? At this point, I don’t know…I did have those ‘electrical disturbances’ in the car…hmmm…or,<br /><br />3) <span style="font-weight: bold;">Demon</span>: Seriously? Shit.</blockquote><br /><br />Really? These are my three choices?<br /><br />Then the night continued.<br /><br />I was on my laptop in my bedroom and when I felt the sensation of my arm burning. Sort of like a fire type heat, but with a chemical type burn twist coming from the inside. It was strange. I pulled up my shirt sleeve to look at whatever was causing this pain. What I found I had to look at for a long time to make sense of it. The first thing I took note of was a scratch that was welting up in front of my eyes. Around this scratch was a red mark that looked like someone had been holding my arm very tightly for some time. But, I didn’t feel anyone touch my arm….<br /><br />What gives here? I was so confused. I can <span style="font-style: italic;">always</span> sense them before anything happens. I know when they enter the room or when I walk into a room that is ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">occupied</span>’. This one was scaring me because I never felt it coming.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">It was like a ninja ghost.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63HOcABFJCMmURc8pBh8dYFBSXyF3aDsS6DwpVEF36zl-tGPMyxXz4aHTrX0l53bVztioruamzHJcki4WkIZgkeEHRUYEgJFHjK7cTcOfHz1cjnsdK_1en5DLofEIvYXWbb4hDNCtkurQ/s1600-h/ninjaghost.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63HOcABFJCMmURc8pBh8dYFBSXyF3aDsS6DwpVEF36zl-tGPMyxXz4aHTrX0l53bVztioruamzHJcki4WkIZgkeEHRUYEgJFHjK7cTcOfHz1cjnsdK_1en5DLofEIvYXWbb4hDNCtkurQ/s200/ninjaghost.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318831259753463650" border="0" /></a>Despite my elevated heart rate, I needed to go on with my evening and keep it together, so I decided to change computers and went into the office and sat at the desk. I was just sitting in the rolling chair and was a solid two feet from the desk when I noticed a slight sway in the desk and the items resting on it. So I stopped to figure it out. No train going through. Earthquake? Nothing else was shaking…nope. While I sat pondering, it gained momentum. The desk was shaking fairly violently when I got out of the chair and left the room.<br /><br />Going down the stairs, I hear the knocking in the walls again. The dogs couldn’t get away from me and out of the house fast enough. Cat, under the bed. Heart rate going up...<br /><br />Thankfully, kids are seemingly unaffected at this point.<br /><br />Around 4 AM, I emailed Chris (<a href="http://proov.net/">PROOV</a>) and recounted the story, thus far, to him. After some discussing, he decided to again, involve Bishop Long. Here’s the response we got from him.<br /><br /><blockquote>“Honestly, this sounds like a 100% case of Poltergeist and not Demonic. The fact that they are going through some pretty emotional turmoil right now, explains the knocking and the sulfur smell.<br /><br />Poltergeist is not demonic. It is energy that is omitting from a person who is going through extreme emotional distress. When the person leaves the home, the activity will decrease in the home but when the person returns, the activity increases. Knocking is certainly very common for poltergeist.<br /><br />There are some things that you can do. Have her stand next to a wall for a bit and see if you get any readings from knocking noises. Also, make sure that all curtains are removed from wall sockets. The number one form of destruction regarding poltergeist is fire.<br /><br />Honestly, this does not sound like demonic to me but a <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">very, very</span> classic case of Poltergeist activity. I have seen this occur literally hundreds of times. The only way to eradicate the problem is to have the emotional distress under control. When the emotional distress is under control, they will see a dramatic decrease in activity.”</blockquote><br /><br />And he was completely correct.<br /><br />I chilled. Activity stopped.<br /><br />It seemed like such a simple answer. I know about poltergeists. Why did this not occur to me? I know that poltergeists are not actually spirits of once living people, but a person’s own energy causing a ruckus during times of angst. And this completely explains why I could never sense a presence. I was the presence!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I was my own ninja ghost</span>.<br /><br />Emotions and thoughts are powerful things. Much more powerful than most of us realize. Apparently, mine can beat on walls and shake desks.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-345498745857845812009-03-25T14:33:00.000-04:002009-03-25T14:33:00.545-04:003 Ways of Ridding Your Home of Ghosts That Actually Do More Harm Than Good<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Another insightful article by Melissa Van Rossum</span></span><br /><br />As an empath and a psychic, I’ve interacted with ghosts all of my life. When I was five, one of them became my favorite playmate and stayed with me for several years. My family called her my “invisible friend”. Ghosts are everywhere - churches, bars, historical sites - and occasionally they plant themselves as uninvited guests in people’s homes. Though not all of them are as friendly as my childhood friend was.<br /><br />One ghost whom I met a few years ago, was a man who had committed suicide in his home. Blinded by despair and fueled by rage, he shot himself in the head. Years later, the house had been sold to new owners, but the original owner stayed on in what he believed to still be his home.<br /><br />He took pleasure in haunting the new family whenever he could, and enjoyed a real charge out of their fearful and angry reactions. The mother of the new family was sensitive to the ghost’s presence and she knew whenever he was around. Rather than being bothered by him though, she considered it a novelty to have a ghost in her house. Even though his energy was rageful and depressed, she ignored the impact this had on her homelife and her family.<br /><br />Finally, at her family’s encouragement, she went to a local metaphysical store to seek out a way to send him home. They sold her an oil called dragon’s blood and a smudge stick, telling her these items would make the ghost would go away. And of course, these things didn’t work.<br />When I was much younger and trying to get the ghosts to leave my home and property, several other psychics told me that the ghosts were there because of the wartime history of the surrounding land. They recommended I hold a ceremony where I blessed the land and assured me the ghosts would go away. They didn’t. In fact, they stood around and watched me and I conducted my ceremony.<br /><br />I’ve found that purification and blessing ceremonies, while useful in their own right, usually do more harm than good if you’re trying to get rid of a ghost. Why? Because they don’t work. And that often generates more fear.<br /><br />Getting rid of a ghost isn’t hard if you know what you’re doing. I know. I’ve guided thousands of them home. But most people are truly very afraid of ghosts and at the very least, they are negatively affected by their unsettling energy. When people feel afraid they can become desperate. And once they become desperate, they open the door for someone to take advantage of them.<br /><br />Too often, in situations such as these, there is someone willing to sell you something like an oil or a smudge stick or a ceremony, that may very well be effective for other things, but these things won’t remove a ghost from your property.<br /><br />In my book, <a href="http://www.theirwayhome.com/">Their Way Home, My Adventures as a Ghost Guide</a>, I share the process I use to guide ghosts home. It’s simple, easy to follow and anyone can do it. I enjoy sharing my book and process with people because it puts the power back in their hands, where it belongs.<br />Melissa Van Rossum is an accomplished psychic, empath and author. It is her life’s work to help people awaken to their dreams by showing them how to tap into their own Divine Guidance. Their Way Home shares stories of her encounters with real life ghosts who searched her out in their quest to find their way home.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-19338960244828114702009-03-19T14:25:00.005-04:002009-03-19T14:38:00.426-04:00Why Do Children See Ghosts & Spirits More Easily Than Adults?<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Another insightful article by Melissa Van Rossum</span></span><br /><br />Children tend not to doubt what they see and sense as adults often do. When someone is in the room with them they acknowledge that person - whether or not that person has a body.<br /><br />It’s usually only after repeatedly being told that they’re making things up that children begin to doubt what they see, feel and hear.<br /><br />If you interact with a child who tells you about something you can’t yet see or sense, flow with it. Validate it for them or give them comfort if that’s what they need. Just don’t discount them.<br /><br />Let them teach you how to trust yourself again.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.theirwayhome.com/">www.theirwayhome.com</a><br /><a href="http://www.allyouveeverknown.com/">www.allyouveeverknown.com</a><br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/ghostguide">www.twitter.com/ghostguide</a>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-1448536736658113632009-03-12T22:45:00.010-04:002009-03-12T23:18:14.904-04:00My Haunted House ~ Part VIII: PersonalitiesIn my experiences, ghosts have different personalities just as much as living people do. I don’t know if they are the same personalities that they had in their life here on Earth, because I’ve yet to come across a ghost I knew while they were living. But I bet they’re similar. And just like people, some of them are sweet as can be and some of them are just <a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-haunted-house-part-vi-sometimes-they.html">nasty</a> to deal with. I thought I’d share a few examples of some of the more memorable spirits I have encountered inside my house.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Boy On The Stairs</span><br /></div><br />This was the first ghost here in the house that scared the bejesus out of me. I walked out of my bathroom and saw him on the stairs sitting with his chin in both hands staring at me. He looked harmless enough. He didn’t say a word. But the vibe coming off of this spirit was alarming. Something about the energy of this kid sent my heart rate skyrocketing and I ran past him to get to my front door. This was one of the nights my husband came home from work to find me waiting on the porch so I wouldn’t have to go back in the house alone. This was the one and only time I encountered him.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Blonde Girl</span><br /></div><br />I’ve written about this <a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-haunted-house-part-ii-blonde-girl.html">sad little girl</a> before. She was not a nuisance at all. For years, she just followed me from time to time around the house seemingly for no other reason but to have company. Maybe she saw me as a maternal figure. I’m not sure. I’m hopeful that she is with her family again as she isn’t with me anymore.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Man Who Needed Help</span><br /></div><br />This guy showed up at an inopportune time (<span style="font-style: italic;">for him anyway</span>). I saw him several times. Sometimes he would just walk into the room, look at me as if he expected something from me and then walk out when I didn’t acknowledge him. He was new to being a ghost I think. He looked like anyone else you would pass at the mall with his modern clothing and hairstyle. One night, he leaned over my bed while I was laying down for the evening and said calmly, <span style="font-style: italic;">“I need your help with something.”</span> Why this was bad timing is that I had no idea what I was doing with this ability. He was the first one that straight up asked for my help. I simply ignored him the best I could because what was I supposed to do? Now I would treat that situation very differently. He became rather insistent and imposing. His purpose for me was monumental though. I became so aggravated with his constant presence so close to me that one evening, I just turned around to face him and “<span style="font-style: italic;">pushed</span>” him back. I have no idea how I did it, I just know that he backed off and left me after a couple more days. We refer to this “<span style="font-style: italic;">pushing back</span>” ability around here as my<span style="font-style: italic;"> Jedi Mind Trick</span>. As annoyed as I was with him at the time, I hope he knows how grateful I am that he taught me that I can have some level of control. This allowed me to let go of the fear and move forward. So, thank you <span style="font-style: italic;">Man That Needed Help</span>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Whistler</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKjnvonvO6HZsUOscP04MnknjMLoUvU-0Wy3-l30g0EClOma8z7cmbkgD4pDqkYLAzXbJQ-OQqjN2UeFjqVgckpzEXF5zEb0FzikGuV0JRuIQYcMp6AoAG4hUel_WCR8regvQc6mXQyM1/s1600-h/whistle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKjnvonvO6HZsUOscP04MnknjMLoUvU-0Wy3-l30g0EClOma8z7cmbkgD4pDqkYLAzXbJQ-OQqjN2UeFjqVgckpzEXF5zEb0FzikGuV0JRuIQYcMp6AoAG4hUel_WCR8regvQc6mXQyM1/s320/whistle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312501390125446674" border="0" /></a>I have also mentioned <a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-haunted-house-part-i.html">this guy</a>. He was the one that drove me nuts with the whistling for weeks on end. He falls into the category of the ghosts that just do what they do with little regard for getting attention. I wouldn’t file him under residual haunt though because when I asked (<span style="font-style: italic;">or demanded more like it</span>) that he stop, he did. I think he simply had no idea how much his behavior was bothering me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Respectful Woman</span><br /></div><br />For a while, I had a very gentle woman hanging out here. She was very polite and seemed respectful of privacy. She was with me pretty much everywhere I went, except my bedroom or the bathroom. It was as if she knew those were my two spaces that it would be inappropriate to intrude upon. I so appreciated that and wish all ghosts adhered to this philosophy. I hate taking a shower knowing that someone is right on the other side of the curtain. Or changing my clothes in my bedroom with an unseen (<span style="font-style: italic;">or seen as the case may be</span>) audience.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Minou</span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDF7MPoS8HifCpNFQb74pfqbUcoIyLw-3t3RcFX1N7YsV5TMC4UErRWknujuxraty0n-hqoTs5RShcOZwH_031paphEbd_1v6kE9UVXKnqvJ6lLqRi7bymK1z586hyphenhyphenvNyFirle-5OTHd1T/s1600-h/minou.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDF7MPoS8HifCpNFQb74pfqbUcoIyLw-3t3RcFX1N7YsV5TMC4UErRWknujuxraty0n-hqoTs5RShcOZwH_031paphEbd_1v6kE9UVXKnqvJ6lLqRi7bymK1z586hyphenhyphenvNyFirle-5OTHd1T/s200/minou.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312505639695144258" border="0" /></a>Minou was our cat. For quite some time after she died, I would “trip” over her being underfoot, just as she did in her lifetime. I would see her tail wrap around my legs and almost fall to avoid stepping on her. But when I looked around to catch a glimpse, she was always gone. I haven’t seen her in quite some time. I’m guessing the new cat ran her off. Minou was definitely an <span style="font-style: italic;">only cat</span> type of pet. I believe animals have spirits just as we do and there is no limitations on what kind of spirits can become ghosts.<br /><br /><blockquote>With each ghost I encounter, I learn a little bit more. Some I can’t wait to be rid of, some I am intrigued by and some have become friends in a strange way. Whatever the case, I’m appreciating the lessons. </blockquote>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-38778564562690679302009-02-21T15:46:00.005-05:002009-02-21T16:15:47.335-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part VII: The EvictionShannon (my cousin-in-law) and I were waiting for Chris (my friend and <a href="http://proov.net/">PROOV</a> member who always gets my frantic <span style="font-style: italic;">‘what-do-I-do-now’</span> phone calls) and the priest to arrive. The kids were out of the house, as requested by the priest, since we didn’t really know what we were up against here.<br /><br />I answered the knock at the door and in walks Chris, the priest and his back-up. He showed up with a Catholic arsenal! At this point I became a little nervous…I mean, seriously, what was about to take place here?<br /><br />Maybe I’ve seen too many horror movies.<br /><br />He immediately opens his case of Catholic goodies and hands me a large crucifix on a chain. I looked down at it, then looked back at him and told him that, to me, this was nothing more than a big hunk of metal and I wanted to make sure that small detail wasn’t going to impede his process in any way. He told me that I didn’t need to believe in it, just keep it with me for the entirety of their visit anyway.<br /><br />So I did.<br /><br />After he was here for a few minutes, he told me that he didn’t think we were dealing with anything demonic here. I’m not really sure if I believe in demons anyway. You know me, I need proof of existence and I’ve never run into a demon, that I know of anyway, and I assume I would know. Hopefully, if they are real, I never have that fact proven to me. I’m good just not knowing for sure. He said he knew because if there were a demon present, he would have known straight away. You know, due to him being a priest and all, I suppose.<br /><br />Shannon and I followed the Catholic team around and Chris followed all of us with the camera shooting the whole time.<br /><br />It wasn’t long before we were chasing what had been tormenting us for the past few weeks. The priest mentioned he had felt like someone was “<span style="font-style: italic;">pushing</span>” him on the stairs. We backed him in a corner in my bedroom. Chris walked right through him and backed up with a “<span style="font-style: italic;">Whoa…that was weird!</span>”. Then a few of us began to feel pretty nauseous while in the room. He knew what we were trying to accomplish and didn’t seem too happy about it.<br /><br />There is a room upstairs that I hate to be in. I never feel alone in that room. So the priest wanted me to sit in there alone in the dark (still with crucifix in hand). I didn’t want to do that, but he was persuasive in an odd way. So I went in and sat in the desk chair in the dark. He assured me they would be right outside the door at all times and would come to my aide should I request it. I sat for several uneventful minutes.<br /><br />Suddenly, he burst into the room and asked if everything was OK. Confused by the urgency of his question, I told him I was fine and asked why he had asked.<br /><br />I was told that as I was sitting alone in the dark, the night light in the baby’s room began to brighten much more than it should and the digital alarm clock began to change time rapidly then stopped on 12:23 AM. He explained the Catholic significance of that time, but I just can’t recall what it was (sorry! I'm sure you can google it...). All of them witnessed these events while I sat nervously by myself.<br /><br />He then blessed each room upstairs and we all started back down. He mentioned on the way down that the upstairs seemed lighter than when we first went up. Maybe my aggressor was gone.<br /><br />As we entered the kitchen he requested to visit the cellar. I said, “Have a good time! I’ll be up here when you’re done.”<br /><br />I overheard him telling Chris while down there that I needed to be present for whatever it was he was planning down there. Chris told him that there was no way he’d get me to do that. I <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">hate</span> the basement. Even during tornadoes, I only sit at the top of the stairs and if I hear the house being ripped from it’s foundation, only then will I go the rest of the way down. From the moment I moved in here, I have always had the feeling someone is buried down there. I don’t know why. Just a gut feeling.<br /><br />But somehow, that persuasive priest managed to get me to go down. I only went as far as the bottom step though. He’s not a miracle worker or anything!<br /><br />Here’s what unfolded in the cellar:<br /><br /><embed src="http://static.ning.com/reluctantmedium/widgets/video/flvplayer/flvplayer.swf?v=3.13.4%3A15557" flashvars="config_url=http%3A%2F%2Freluctantmedium.ning.com%2Fvideo%2Fvideo%2FshowPlayerConfig%3Fid%3D2687592%253AVideo%253A88%26x%3De7waKTDLJjcnAGj1XBzadmbgJEmXORg6&video_smoothing=on&autoplay=off&layout=external_site" scale="noscale" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="448" height="364"></embed><br /><small><a href="http://reluctantmedium.ning.com/video/video">Join my network to keep up: <em>The Reluctant Medium</em></a></small><br /><br /><br />Before you watch the conclusion of this video, some pretty amazing things happened while we were down there. In an attempt to make communication and to announce our intentions as well as gauge the spirit's intentions, we asked it to do a few things. You saw the meter lights (it was measuring EMF), but we also asked for it to change the temperature of the room to a very specific temperature. I was even surprised by how quickly our temp readers fell almost 20 degrees to comply with the request and stopped exactly where we asked it to.<br /><br /><embed src="http://static.ning.com/reluctantmedium/widgets/video/flvplayer/flvplayer.swf?v=3.13.4%3A15557" flashvars="config_url=http%3A%2F%2Freluctantmedium.ning.com%2Fvideo%2Fvideo%2FshowPlayerConfig%3Fid%3D2687592%253AVideo%253A91%26x%3De7waKTDLJjcnAGj1XBzadmbgJEmXORg6&video_smoothing=on&autoplay=off&layout=external_site" scale="noscale" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="448" height="364"></embed><br /><small><a href="http://reluctantmedium.ning.com/video/video">Find more videos like this on <em>The Reluctant Medium</em></a></small><br /><br /><br />I am certain that the spirit that moved on that night was that of the <a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-haunted-house-part-ii-blonde-girl.html">Blonde Girl.</a> I haven't seen her since that evening. I hope that she is no longer sad and lonely the way she seemed while she was staying with me. I hope she has found her home and her loved ones. I didn't mind her being here with us, but am happy she has moved on to a better place.<br /><br />I am extraordinarily grateful to Bishop James Long for helping this little girl move on and ridding our family of the nasty ghost that felt the need to aggravate us.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-3619189397707334822009-02-19T14:12:00.006-05:002009-02-19T14:26:30.360-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part VI: Sometimes They Are NastyMost of the time, the activity around here is only experienced by me, so I have a moment of joy when something happens for another to experience. Even better, when multiple people witness unexplainable events.<br /><br />For example, we had my sisters and another friend over to hang out one night recently. Around 1:00 AM, we all went to the kitchen for a snack. Our friend had poured the final bowl of Cocoa Krispies (<span style="font-style: italic;">precious commodity around here</span>) and set the bowl on a stool while waiting for my husband to retrieve milk from the fridge. While waiting, she turned her back to the stool and cereal bowl to engage in conversation with me. My husband was in the fridge with his back to the cereal bowl as well. Me and one of my sisters were the only ones who actually had the stool in our line of sight.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyBT18UlFlYbRjLjNBtpLCcTCE56Ca24PdDPXJHmDgx3p4N6mjT4NfLwr-JyGEsrmn0lJ9mpOxRRNZhy3WrTvJx5KmAAnGoUyWfMNldOb2jbWskL_r9p4NJz9iSQ8ZRAL8lKYiw_TNzkw/s1600-h/cereal.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyBT18UlFlYbRjLjNBtpLCcTCE56Ca24PdDPXJHmDgx3p4N6mjT4NfLwr-JyGEsrmn0lJ9mpOxRRNZhy3WrTvJx5KmAAnGoUyWfMNldOb2jbWskL_r9p4NJz9iSQ8ZRAL8lKYiw_TNzkw/s400/cereal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304590260825463618" border="0" /></a>The bowl suddenly flipped off the stool resulting in a large scattering of the highly valued chocolaty cereal all over the kitchen floor. My sister didn’t say anything. The widening of her eyes said enough. My friend immediately blamed my husband for the tragedy, and an argument ensued over who must have hit the stool to cause the spillage. It was especially charged due to it being the last quantity of the delicious snack in the house! They both denied touching the stool. They were both truthful as well, since each of them were a few feet away from the bowl at the moment on question.<br /><br />I just left the room giggling while they continued to figure out what actually happened. I knew what happened.<br /><br />However, all the experiences here are not always that benign or entertaining. Every now and then, the revolving ghost door here lets in a nasty one. Most of our ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">friends</span>’ only stay a few weeks at most, so we usually just ride it out knowing it won’t be long before they vacate. But we picked up one recently that was a little too aggressive to wait it out. I had to make some calls.<br /><br />This particular spirit had been pretty aggressive with me in the way of hair pulling, pinching and pushing. I was annoyed for a while, but then it went too far.<br /><br />My husband came to me one day, irate with the vein in his forehead throbbing. He asked me why I would slap our five year old across the face! Of course, I did not do such a thing and asked why he would ask me that. Our son had told him I did. Why would he say that? Later that night, I asked him at bed time why he told Daddy I did that.<br /><br />His response was, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Because you did</span>.”<br /><br />I thought maybe he had dreamed this happening or there was some sort of other reasonable explanation. He said he couldn’t see me do it, but he was slapped on his face and since I was the only one home with him at the time, it must have been me (he still tries hard to logically explain things that happen around here in his own little five year old way). Although he was still trying to figure out <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">how</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">why</span> I did it.<br /><br />I assured him it wasn’t me, but I would take care of it so that it didn’t happen again.<br /><br />On another occasion during our aggressive guest's stay, my husband’s cousin was over watching some TV with me. I was lounging on my right side on the far right of the couch while she was sitting on the floor leaning back against the front of the left side of the couch. My attention was diverted from the television screen when I saw her head quickly jerk back against the couch in a very unnatural way. She then jumped up in fight mode certain that I had done the yanking. She quickly realized that it was against the laws of physics for me to have possibly pulled her hair with that kind of force and still be completely relaxed in the same location.<br /><br />She then got a concerned look about her and asked, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Did that really just happen?!?</span>”<br /><br />All I could say was, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Welcome to my world.</span>”<br /><br />Phone calls were made and the date was set for a priest to visit the house. I’m not Catholic, but I’m game for anything we can do to solve the problem. My husband’s cousin requested to be present when we evicted the SOB that yanked her ponytail.<br /><br />I’ve had a lot of crazy nights living in this house, but the night the priest was here ranks right up at the top.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Stay tuned for details and vids...)</span>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-32833918518456321082009-02-17T14:35:00.003-05:002009-02-17T14:42:52.422-05:00The Bell Witch Legend<span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">By Chris McGill</span></span><br /><a href="http://dimensionsradio.com/"><span style="font-style: italic;">DimensionsRadio.com</span></a><br /><br />I'm in the process of putting together some footage from several visits to La Grange, KY. In the first post, <a href="http://dimensionsradio.com/2009/01/02/the-haunting-of-la-grange-part-one/">The Haunting of La Grange Part 1</a> you saw a short investigation we did with Bishop Long on a private residence. There have been several other locations that we (<a href="http://proov.net/" target="_blank">P.R.O.O.V. Paranormal Researchers of Ohio Valley</a>) have been to over the last couple of months and I'll be editing that down and getting it up on the site here within the next few weeks hopefully. In the meantime, I wanted to put up this interview I did with <a href="http://www.bellwitch.org/home.htm">Pat Fitzhugh</a> on the legend of the Bell Witch.<br /><br />If you aren't familiar with the Bell Witch, it's a very old legend that dates back to the early 1800's. Actually, it's suppose to be the only documented case of a ghost actually harming someone. In this case, the spirit reportedly killed John Bell. The movie 'American Haunting' was based on the story and it features Donald Sutherland and Sissy Spacek. I thought it was a pretty decent movie. Does it follow true historical record? That will be up to the experts to decide.<br /><br /><object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" height="344" width="425"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="src" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BnjcBheGD7Q&hl=en&fs=1"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BnjcBheGD7Q&hl=en&fs=1" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />When I was still doing my radio show, <em>'<strong>Dimensions: Encounters with the Unknown'</strong></em> I interviewed a man who had been researching the Bell Witch legend for years. Pat Fitzhugh has talked with many people in and around the town of Adams, TN to find out as much as he can about the legend. He's reportedly talked to the ancestors of the Bell family who still live in that part of Tennessee, as well with historical experts on Adams, TN and the Bell Witch such as Tim Henson. Here's the interview I did with Pat on what he's found out to be true, and not so true, on the legend of the Bell Witch. I've removed the commercials and music transitions from the show, so it may seem to be a little choppy at times.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.dimensionsradio.com/audio/Bell_Witch_Seg_1.mp3">Pat Fitzhugh on the Bell Witch Pt 1</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.dimensionsradio.com/audio/Bell_Witch_Seg_2.mp3">Pat Fitzhugh on the Bell Witch Pt 2</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.dimensionsradio.com/audio/Bell_Witch_Seg_3.mp3">Pat Fitzhugh on the Bell Witch Pt 3</a><br /><br />At the time I did this interview there was a person who worked with me at the radio station that was directly connected to the legend. Brad Bell is a direct descendant of the Bell family of Adams, TN. Even today, his family sometimes blames 'bad luck' on the witch.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.dimensionsradio.com/audio/Bell_Witch_Seg_4.mp3">Brad Bell on the Bell Witch Pt 4</a><br /><br />There's also a cave that is connected with the Bell Witch Legend. <a href="http://www.bellwitchcave.com/">'The Bell Witch Cave'</a> is the site where supposedly strange and unexplained things have happened. Is it connected to the Witch or not? Who knows. I've been to the site twice, and although it is a very creepy place, we had nothing out of the ordinary happen while we were there. However, many other people have claimed to have had paranormal experiences in and around the cave itself. The site is now on private property and in 2008 was placed on the National Historical Registry.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dimensionsradio.com/mcgillmedia/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/bell-witch-cave.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-159" title="bell-witch-cave" src="http://dimensionsradio.com/mcgillmedia/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/bell-witch-cave-300x170.jpg" alt="The Bell Witch Cave" height="170" width="300" /></a></div>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-38804165278068106032009-01-24T15:40:00.026-05:002009-01-24T16:43:44.629-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part V: The InvestigationI have mentioned before that I have been a tour guide for <a href="http://www.spiritsoflagrange.com/">The Spirits of La Grange</a> ghost tours. In preparation for these tours, a local paranormal research team (<a href="http://proov.net/">PROOV</a>) was called out to investigate some locations on the tour to gather additional information. As a tour guide, I was invited to tag along during the initial investigation of the various stops. The team was comprised of 5 or 6 investigators as well as the group’s clairvoyant.<br /><br />The walk through finished up earlier than expected and someone, knowing what life was like at my house, recommended we use the extra time doing a walk through of my house. So that’s what we did.<br /><br />The group entered my house loaded up with cameras, digital recorders and a clairvoyant. This was about five years ago, so I was not as comfortable with my abilities as I am now. I remember the clairvoyant asking me why I didn’t <span style="font-style: italic;">“embrace what I had”</span>.<br /><br />I wanted to flip her the bird.<br /><br />However, I simply said, “No, I would rather you just talk them and let me know what I need to know.”<br /><br />I had never experienced a clairvoyant personally, so I was a bit skeptical. But this woman blew me away. She gave us so much information about the history of my house, that she didn’t even know she was coming to by the way, that it took me weeks of research at the courthouse to verify all she had said. She knew names, dates and personal information about previous families here that I eventually verified through community members that have occupied my house in the past or at least knew who did (very small town).<br /><br />Here’s the short list of some things she told us:<br /><br /><blockquote>• Switch the baby to another room. What she didn’t know was that he was waking up all night terrified. He would wake up screaming and when we got to him he seemed genuinely frightened. He would scratch and pull at us to get as close as he possibly could and hold on with all he had. This had been going on since his birth. After we took the advice and switched him to another bedroom, his the night terrors significantly decreased. I don’t think we’ll ever know what the poor little guy was going through to cause such a reaction.<br /><br />• She had drawn a “floor plan” of our house the night before she came over. Except, not as it is now, but how it was originally when I purchased it. She had no idea we had done the remodeling ourselves, so she was showing me the picture and explaining to what it used to look like as if I didn’t know already. And she was dead on.<br /><br />• It was explained to us that there was an older couple where the man was “trapped” in the room where our bed was. And that he loved having the children around. What I found out was, through my mother’s electrician, is that when he lived in the house with his aunt and uncle, his uncle was confined to a recliner in that room due to the effects of diabetes making it unavailable for him to move around much. And he always kept candy in his pocket for the kids when they visited. </blockquote><br />Those are just a few of the things she told us. I remember her stopping and looking at me to say <span style="font-style: italic;">“I</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> don’t know how you live here”</span>. Sometimes I feel the same way. She requested to not be brought back to my house for the full all-nighter investigation, or for any other reason for that matter.<br /><br />We got some interesting pictures during that couple of hours.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn31N8Mm-pq-18HuPQER7YDoMnM94-Bo6bcpQpRRDz6SJkQs8tFqhIkPovjGIyfOq9nd9x3zoeKx2EvOIqkxjN4Myj0YfjgaX3N0_Gcf5xl02HF_ZKr24ArutHPW_kUeNg5RqpMbgdVlR6/s1600-h/IM000514.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn31N8Mm-pq-18HuPQER7YDoMnM94-Bo6bcpQpRRDz6SJkQs8tFqhIkPovjGIyfOq9nd9x3zoeKx2EvOIqkxjN4Myj0YfjgaX3N0_Gcf5xl02HF_ZKr24ArutHPW_kUeNg5RqpMbgdVlR6/s400/IM000514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294965892239823410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpC9XWvjdihFZkdnEG9zbGWSBERljTCRvJzmYsp8FaINrktA_HWmlomR6rnJgh3_cDUjOZpNJ_dEco7DA0GVH6vRCiL_N9PBJ6blKSuCr9vWtW8qAx3jtB95AsluDJ_6sYFjuZpFb_Gbw/s1600-h/DSC00536.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpC9XWvjdihFZkdnEG9zbGWSBERljTCRvJzmYsp8FaINrktA_HWmlomR6rnJgh3_cDUjOZpNJ_dEco7DA0GVH6vRCiL_N9PBJ6blKSuCr9vWtW8qAx3jtB95AsluDJ_6sYFjuZpFb_Gbw/s400/DSC00536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294965872087504018" border="0" /></a><blockquote>During the investigation, books were being tossed off the shelves in the baby's room while the clairvoyant was in the room.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMidHEmPGaQk9ux3fKeftvpGFMlCcdMAkeXHMQMKaMkut2SXtFP_MGjqlYvYEppETIJrlVjGlTcKhSdSTlHVjvHCdzIndgMXrHIEWfvlb-b8g92K3U5sw4xvcH0oMQ17Vt9hRbgg_FqUhB/s1600-h/DSC00537.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMidHEmPGaQk9ux3fKeftvpGFMlCcdMAkeXHMQMKaMkut2SXtFP_MGjqlYvYEppETIJrlVjGlTcKhSdSTlHVjvHCdzIndgMXrHIEWfvlb-b8g92K3U5sw4xvcH0oMQ17Vt9hRbgg_FqUhB/s400/DSC00537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294974006162258834" border="0" /></a></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>This is me freaking out a little because as I went to enter the room with the clairvoyant, I was grabbed by something around my waist and pulled back out.</blockquote><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7HylEF6-A14cA2vskn88HUaE4v1tsxjpHekIjn07nOagvRgm2Ap3YQZTCk9E_PcyZaCxppHoF0AR14ZwA54F2VGQF8hun6vpVvZkKOuek-aSa1pfeCM50zjBy-dnVeNgII7oTzd3frs6o/s1600-h/IM000515.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7HylEF6-A14cA2vskn88HUaE4v1tsxjpHekIjn07nOagvRgm2Ap3YQZTCk9E_PcyZaCxppHoF0AR14ZwA54F2VGQF8hun6vpVvZkKOuek-aSa1pfeCM50zjBy-dnVeNgII7oTzd3frs6o/s400/IM000515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294974479180983266" border="0" /></a><blockquote>Damn startle factor! I was not expecting that right then! Look closely for the couple of possible orbs, especially the one by my head. I don't usually put much stock in people's "orb" photos because most of them are moisture, bugs or dust. However, on this particular day, they only show up in the pictures (3 different cameras by the way) when there was activity. There were hundreds of digital shots taken throughout the investigation, most of them had no "orbs". I do find it intriguing that the orbs only showed up this day during moments of activity. Dust doesn't do that.</blockquote><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRp3kZTCDdLTqyvuItsgV1yANl88QME0ulBrDBcqob8vTTYqbsW_HSOEHerwME45wTGQ2rbMdOTvU6S4xQrcx8CjOVM1M1aEy9eLW2luN0j0hcDYGcC18a_vrZIDmJZMBBA6sGWPMoi8Qa/s1600-h/IM000516.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRp3kZTCDdLTqyvuItsgV1yANl88QME0ulBrDBcqob8vTTYqbsW_HSOEHerwME45wTGQ2rbMdOTvU6S4xQrcx8CjOVM1M1aEy9eLW2luN0j0hcDYGcC18a_vrZIDmJZMBBA6sGWPMoi8Qa/s400/IM000516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294976542123474674" border="0" /></a><blockquote>This is immediately afterward. Look closely...there is a possible orb at my knees.</blockquote>Because of the evidence the group collected in the short preliminary visit, they did decide to come out for a full scale all nighter. Here are a few more pics collected during the second investigation.<br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://static.ning.com/reluctantmedium/widgets/photo/slideshowplayer/slideshowplayer.swf?v=3.12.1:14070" quality="high" alt="Photo Slideshow" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="transparent" scale="noscale" flashvars="feed_url=http%3A%2F%2Freluctantmedium%2Ening%2Ecom%2Fphoto%2Fphoto%2FslideshowFeedAlbum%3Fsort%3D%26screenName%3D%26id%3D2687592%3AAlbum%3A141%26tag%3D%26useTags%3D1%26fullscreen%3Dtrue%26x%3DF3ekIuGXSDDDI7eeUmU5ZSUillGI1ZaX%26photo%5Fwidth%3D800%26photo%5Fheight%3D604&config_url=http%3A%2F%2Freluctantmedium%2Ening%2Ecom%2Fphoto%2Fphoto%2FshowPlayerConfig%3Fx%3DF3ekIuGXSDDDI7eeUmU5ZSUillGI1ZaX%26feed%5Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Freluctantmedium%2Ening%2Ecom%252Fphoto%252Fphoto%252FslideshowFeedAlbum%253Fsort%253D%2526screenName%253D%2526id%253D2687592%253AAlbum%253A141%2526tag%253D%2526useTags%253D1%2526fullscreen%253Dtrue%2526x%253DF3ekIuGXSDDDI7eeUmU5ZSUillGI1ZaX&backgroundColor=000000&fullsize_url=http%3A%2F%2Freluctantmedium%2Ening%2Ecom%2Findex%2Ephp%2Fphoto%2Fphoto%2Fslideshow%3FalbumId%3D2687592%253AAlbum%253A141" class="xg_slideshow" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="300" width="450"></embed><br /><small><a href="http://reluctantmedium.ning.com/photo/photo">Find more photos like this on <em>The Reluctant Medium</em></a></small>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-69716155160691034382009-01-09T09:13:00.000-05:002009-01-09T09:13:01.707-05:00Back to the PharmacyMy friends, Barbara and Farley, asked if I would join them to a <a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2008/11/time-out-for-few-recent-experiences_07.html">return trip up to the old pharmacy to visit the spirit that I became fast friends with last time</a>. I am always up for a little practice honing my skills, especially with a known friendly spirit.<br /><br />This time was a little different.<br /><br />We walked into the building and headed upstairs to his space. At first I felt like we were chasing him down as he kept moving around as to avoid us. So we decided to just have a seat in the middle of the dark room just as before.<br /><br />I felt confused by the energy, because it was different that the past couple of times I have been in the building. But the friendly spirit I was looking for was definitely present. I found out later what all the confusion was.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwtVF-A9SPqM-sDDYc5O9LalDNNBYQb_f2VwCvALiz9Mj48bVRJCTngAPIOZU7ExSCuzF0apTEXXqbz3ZSRnDT_OjLZo9V85PQb2SYdHXa7wyJEhFxiLjV-j4pZNHLYbdw-RnIqECUmqa/s1600-h/whitelight.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwtVF-A9SPqM-sDDYc5O9LalDNNBYQb_f2VwCvALiz9Mj48bVRJCTngAPIOZU7ExSCuzF0apTEXXqbz3ZSRnDT_OjLZo9V85PQb2SYdHXa7wyJEhFxiLjV-j4pZNHLYbdw-RnIqECUmqa/s320/whitelight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287267288009914498" border="0" /></a>We announced ourselves and let him know we had no recording devices or electronics of any sort. We just wanted to visit with him. We asked if he could do something to announce his presence as well. Immediately I began seeing bright streaks of light all around the room in front of us. After a few moments it was pretty clear that I was the only one seeing them.<br /><br />I explained to him that, while I appreciated his efforts in response to our request, I was the only one that could see him. So I requested something that all three of us could see or hear.<br /><br />The response to this request was pretty astounding and like nothing else I’ve ever experienced first hand.<br /><br />All three of us noticed the floor starting to sway. I’m not sure how this effect was caused, because I’m fairly certain that the whole building was not actually swaying. Yet, all of us experienced the same sensation simultaneously.<br /><br />Then, we began to hear a series of taps and pops across the pitch black room. When this started, I began to feel weak and nauseated. Then I began to vibrate.<br /><br />Yes, vibrate.<br /><br />I assumed the floor was vibrating and I was feeling it from the floor, but no one else could feel it. Both of my friends touched me and could feel the vibration. It was truly bizarre.<br /><br />Barbara asked if I needed to leave because of my obvious discomfort, but I was intrigued by what was happening and was willing to endure the discomfort to follow through. After five minutes or so, though, I needed it to stop. I stated out loud that I understood that making the sounds was hard for him, and he was making it hard for me. Please stop.<br /><br />The sounds immediately stopped. We didn’t hear one more tap or pop from across the room. Up until that point, I wasn’t entirely certain that the sounds we being caused by a spirit using me as a viable energy source to comply with our requests or just an old building settling in the cold temperatures. But in the next few moments following my request for him to stop, I began to feel back to normal and the vibration stopped. I was sure then exactly what had happened.<br /><br />It was then that the energy confusion I felt earlier became clearer. I looked to the left and could see the silhouette of Farley because of a small light source from downstairs. Then a dark shadow of a large man walked quickly behind him and into the darkness. I caught a glimpse of him again on the other side of the room before he disappeared into the darkness completely. Before I could even say anything, Barbara asked me if I sensed a presence to our left behind Farley. She didn’t see him, but it was a strong presence and easy to sense. We all noticed the energy difference the room held.<br /><br />He didn’t feel aggressive or dangerous, but very protective and seemed irritated that we were there. His vibe was not welcoming. This explained the confusion I had coming into the building. He had yet to show himself to me before in this space.<br /><br />With this energy shift, we went ahead and packed it in and went home.<br /><br />I got in my car and shut the door and noticed the energy in my car was no different than in the building.<br /><br />This guy is trying to follow me home!<br /><br />Well, I did fail to tell them all on this trip that they were not to follow me out of the building. You know, minor details, right? When I pulled up to my house just a few blocks away, I told him that my house is crowded enough and he would be sleeping in the car tonight and was not allowed in my house.<br /><br />The next morning my car battery was dead.<br /><br />Maybe he did sleep in the car. Hmmm…<br /><br />He must have not enjoyed his sleeping accommodations, because I haven’t sensed him around since that night and have had no more trouble out of my car battery.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-37029898104677590472009-01-03T19:24:00.012-05:002009-01-24T15:55:45.573-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part IV: Some People Won’t Come BackNot everything in this house is all that uncommon. There isn’t always a goat in the house or things flying across the room.<br /><br />We experience fairly common phenomena around here that I've heard others claim happens with their hauntings as well. Footsteps during the night, the dogs barking at “nothing”, cold spots, you know, things like that. And the kids toys are always playing on their own. We do live about 50 yards from a very active train track, so at first we thought it was just the vibrations setting them off. However, that just simply isn't the case. After living here over 10 years, we are pretty familiar with the train and it’s effects, and I’m sure the train has set off a toy or two, but sometimes we know it isn’t the train or toy malfunction.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30JKkewbymYbOxW9Pn9HG71d0kGztxM-x5ms9x2e2o2MfULfYX4bIzFJi2-Zscux5Wgdw2SUJ5v9fKF8vcnZQElXbb8D1WAC_NIsLA6SubQc4Ix2vuz8H_SaXtWxg55gCPCSEilgylazJ/s1600-h/ubiq-secret-base-ghost-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30JKkewbymYbOxW9Pn9HG71d0kGztxM-x5ms9x2e2o2MfULfYX4bIzFJi2-Zscux5Wgdw2SUJ5v9fKF8vcnZQElXbb8D1WAC_NIsLA6SubQc4Ix2vuz8H_SaXtWxg55gCPCSEilgylazJ/s320/ubiq-secret-base-ghost-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287232702724862706" border="0" /></a>Case and point: I had a friend over on a night that was particularly active. This is the same friend that found the change stacked in the fridge, so she's aware of our little situation over here. But she is not so interested in being present for our ghosts mischievousness. This was one of those nights when the toys kept going on "<span style="font-style: italic;">by themselves</span>" and each time she got more and more jumpy. Trying to accommodate my guest, I got up and actually turned them all to the '<span style="font-weight: bold;">off</span>' position. I knew it wouldn't help, but it seemed to make her feel better. Shortly after I sat back down on the couch, sure enough, the toys started singing little songs and lighting up. I giggled. She, very seriously, looked at me and said, "<span style="font-style: italic;">You might think this shit is funny, but I'm not laughing! I'm out!</span>" And with that she up and left.<br /><br />Now, I know that she’ll come back over, but sometimes our friends will experience something here at the house that keeps them from ever setting foot back in our house.<br /><br />My sister-in-law was over one evening and was sitting on the floor with my husband in front of me sitting on the couch. She is Iranian and has long, very thick hair that she had in a braided ponytail. I watched as her hair was slowly lifted in the air and then quickly slammed onto her back hard enough to send the rubber band flying across the room and a welt left on her back from the impact.<br /><br />That was the last time she was here.<br /><br />There are others who think my house is a novelty and try to provoke things to happen. This behavior annoys me because I’m always the one left here alone when they go home. My sister is one of these people. My favorite experience was when she was clearly asked to leave by one of our ghosts. Here’s how it went down…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5f0Gu1JP_is3U8N-rhEi92ty5Od-s-X1g5TFqt0IAayNMB6wQHzP81Ohnaa8SCcR-AKvOIks4-Pb2EdgObPcm71BzWUzWlXaXe3DPhq-ld5qwPHJB1k7GLXsGqIZitBfGmJ6UHgIo_Wn/s1600-h/28859.lg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5f0Gu1JP_is3U8N-rhEi92ty5Od-s-X1g5TFqt0IAayNMB6wQHzP81Ohnaa8SCcR-AKvOIks4-Pb2EdgObPcm71BzWUzWlXaXe3DPhq-ld5qwPHJB1k7GLXsGqIZitBfGmJ6UHgIo_Wn/s320/28859.lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287250738394423218" border="0" /></a>One morning I was making coffee as my husband showered. I set a spoon down next to the coffee maker and walked away for roughly two minutes. When I returned, I found the spoon bent in half. Truthfully, my heart almost jumped out of my chest. That startle factor gets me every time! I picked up the spoon and took it into the shower and showed my husband asking, “<span style="font-style: italic;">What do you make of this?</span>”.<br /><br />His response was, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Should we call somebody?</span>”<br /><br />So, my sister heard this story and decided next time she was over that she would get them to do it again for her. I try to explain to her over and over that they aren’t performance artists and don’t seem to appreciate being treated as such. She ignores me.<br /><br />Next thing I know, she’s laying out spoons on the counter and demanding an encore. Which she obviously did not get. So the rest of the evening, against my wishes and advice, she was taunting and provoking to get a response. I guess they got sick of her after a while because during one of her taunting sessions, the front door to my house flew open! She got up to close it and as she was placing her butt back on the couch, it happened again. And then again, and maybe another time. After several attempts to get her to exit the front door, she finally got the message and shut up. When she stopped with the taunts, the front door remained closed and she was once again welcome to stay as a guest in our home.<br /><br />Occasionally, I take a step back and look at the life I have and wonder how I have gotten used to it. I remember the first time this thought occurred to me. I was sitting on the couch watching TV early in the morning when an empty cup flew off a chair, went through the air across my field of vision and hit the wall to my right.<br /><br />The odd part was when I realized that I didn’t even glance to my right to take note of the cup laying on the floor after it bounced off the wall. That’s the moment I realized how strange it is that that sort of event can happen without note being taken in this house.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-76172426415876891022008-12-24T08:39:00.001-05:002008-12-24T08:39:01.237-05:00The Ghost Lights of Ava<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);">By Chris McGill<br /><a href="http://dimensionsradio.com/">DimensionsRadio.com</a></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8eJRvFH7t_m6Q9DWvDdatuDW0_bbGR0I7eANWRPXP6q3DVfsDWyS7hfIl9cH3kOc_7GtUNwSuFjOuyzjKHj135K6QUPaNtADIZ5UyL37b_tu3KKeSXtctldolHWJDzy63qT6oSxpX0Xu/s1600-h/Ava+Cemetery+Day.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8eJRvFH7t_m6Q9DWvDdatuDW0_bbGR0I7eANWRPXP6q3DVfsDWyS7hfIl9cH3kOc_7GtUNwSuFjOuyzjKHj135K6QUPaNtADIZ5UyL37b_tu3KKeSXtctldolHWJDzy63qT6oSxpX0Xu/s320/Ava+Cemetery+Day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283015016135095778" border="0" /></a>In the fall of 2001, my wife and I made a trip to see her Sister in Southern Illinois. She lives there with her husband and two kids on a farm in a town not far from Murphysboro. Ava is a small town of a little over 500 residents. Not far from my sister-in-law's place, there’s a cemetery that lies off of the road between a cornfield and forest. Some of the tombstones in this cemetery date back to the mid to late 1800’s and many are from the same family. I will not say what the name of the cemetery is in order to protect the privacy of the family’s of those buried there.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY7awmtfU3vs7xZk20AiIr7vYKK1lZahBbf5t1Aqzxldw1NLim68_pl9xZcDfo9ABJrl8NiWytdH9WO_JQPr4fNnFM8ge8vLKc3oP6trEW5hgYxPzukvwaTh7W0TPb3D0j1mGT1IjOuvE/s1600-h/Ava+Cemetery+Night.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY7awmtfU3vs7xZk20AiIr7vYKK1lZahBbf5t1Aqzxldw1NLim68_pl9xZcDfo9ABJrl8NiWytdH9WO_JQPr4fNnFM8ge8vLKc3oP6trEW5hgYxPzukvwaTh7W0TPb3D0j1mGT1IjOuvE/s320/Ava+Cemetery+Night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283015259380723650" border="0" /></a>We were in town for my wife’s family’s ‘cousin’s weekend’. This was an annual event at the time and this year we were roughing it, camping out all weekend on the farm. After a long day of horseback riding and dinner, we decided to take a little trip up the road and check out the old cemetery. After all, it was late October and Halloween was coming! This would be a perfect pre-Halloween treat. And a treat it was!<br /><br />Not long after we arrived I started taking video with my brand new Sony Handycam (equipped with night vision). My wife and I had recently gotten into the hobby of ‘ghost hunting’ and I thought this would be a great spot to try out the new gear. Almost immediately I began to see a light in the forest on the outside of the cemetery. The only thing that didn’t make sense was the light wasn’t visible to the naked eye. You could only see it through the viewfinder of the video camera. I brought this to the attention of one of my wife’s cousins that was nearby. Here’s a clip of what we saw.<br /><br /><object height="240" width="428"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1026519436395"><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1026519436395" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="240" width="428"></embed></object><br /><br />There was nothing in the woods that should have reflected the infrared from my camera. Not to mention, fade on and off like this ‘Ghost Light’ did! Later that same night I was shooting more video and caught an ‘orb’ of light that kept following me around. At first I thought it may be part of a spider web I had walked through, since that had happened a bit earlier. After a few seconds I realized it wasn’t a web nor was it a bug of any type. It was late in October and already getting down into the low 40’s. Most bugs are long gone in temps like that. This was the first time I had ever experienced an ‘orb’ that appeared to respond to my questions.<br /><br /><br /><object height="240" width="428"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1026520196414"><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1026520196414" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="240" width="428"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Needless to say, this one freaked me out a bit and I wanted to leave right then and there! Another weird thing happened that same night. For several weeks prior to this, I had been experiencing some really bad pain in my right foot. It hurt so bad at times that I could hardly walk. The next day when I woke up, I no longer had any pain in my foot at all! And haven’t since that night almost eight years ago. What was it that we saw that night in the woods outside the cemetery? Was it a ghost light? And the ‘orb’ of light that seemed to follow me inside the cemetery. Was that a spirit of someone buried there, or maybe a guardian spirit that was watching over the place? We’ll never know for sure. We did find out the next day, after talking with residents that lived near the cemetery, that there was a barn that used to be in the area where we spotted the first unknown light. It had burned down decades ago, and the rumors are that at least one person if not more were killed in the fire.<br /><br />I’ve been back to this cemetery several times since this incident occurred, and have yet to experience anything like we did on that October night in 2001. I’m very skeptical when it comes to ‘orbs’ because there can be so many logical explanations like dust, moisture or lens flare. I’ve pretty much ruled out all three of these particular options in this case. Still, there’s no way to say for sure that what we experienced was paranormal. But it was definitely unexplained.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-22163709576552988242008-12-22T09:00:00.004-05:002009-01-24T15:55:37.386-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part III: The Goat, The Dogs And DevoEvery now and then something just inexplicable happens around here. Although, daily life around here would be pretty baffling for most, but sometimes it’s just stranger than the usual activity for us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBbClo1a8dkmSxgts2OjgKXIgEhc_X-Cf0FvoWFv9YlFm66XwZAJ55qAGVgMSlYvgc3JWiyfHNAK9BIPoFKc5jsD2sDdGsp3FYPVWblcbtrazEKEp5VBCPtj9igFpQsmq0HfPEJpYic2V/s1600-h/winnie1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBbClo1a8dkmSxgts2OjgKXIgEhc_X-Cf0FvoWFv9YlFm66XwZAJ55qAGVgMSlYvgc3JWiyfHNAK9BIPoFKc5jsD2sDdGsp3FYPVWblcbtrazEKEp5VBCPtj9igFpQsmq0HfPEJpYic2V/s320/winnie1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282063656865838226" border="0" /></a>It was a regular weekday. I followed the usual routine of feeding the goat in the back yard, putting the dogs in the crates, locking up and heading out to the studio just a short time before my husband, Devo, was due home. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was UPS had delivered a 40 lb bag of dog food that I had left sitting in the living room since it was too heavy for me to take to the dogs’ room. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">That’s why we have husbands right?</span><br /><br />Right on schedule, Devo arrived home shortly after I left. The curious part is what he came home to.<br /><br />He had trouble opening the front door. He claimed it felt like he was pushing something heavy out of the way to enter the house. We only use the front door since the other doors in the house have slide locks as opposed to keyed entries. After a great deal of struggle, he gained entry and found it was the box containing the 40 lb bag of dog food against the door causing his trouble. For those of you saying to yourselves, “<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">couldn’t it have just tipped over to block the door?</span>”, I say, the box was at least six feet away from the door and would have had to have moved quite a way to get to it’s current location. This was just the beginning of the weirdness.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguumxJIaInWCLSAQi1DJlZ27mMYT3OwMP10mVqOr9CoaZJ4qneEOqvPRRvS4IyOGraD0diXeyCTWeMl2Ry0jVUTMGnFW_SWLSsK1CevOLltHJqfqdeSRijziXYNkNj8amwKNKAvOyCXq8Y/s1600-h/winnie2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguumxJIaInWCLSAQi1DJlZ27mMYT3OwMP10mVqOr9CoaZJ4qneEOqvPRRvS4IyOGraD0diXeyCTWeMl2Ry0jVUTMGnFW_SWLSsK1CevOLltHJqfqdeSRijziXYNkNj8amwKNKAvOyCXq8Y/s320/winnie2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282064023942509234" border="0" /></a>The next step of his routine was to let the dogs out of the crates I had stored them in while they were alone. When he opened the door to the dogs’ room, he did not find either of the dogs in their crates, but a miniature pygmy goat in the house instead! Luckily, she hadn’t caused any damage or mess so he guided her back out the back door. What confused him at this point was that he assumed I had left the door ajar when doing the pet duties, but the door was securely locked when he went to let her back out. And there were the dogs enjoying the freedom of the back yard.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">So, goat out, dogs in, all was right with the world again.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVYpGXO31AjdBVRP1oh1jTfHFi1qWHC0FDxsG5jhVd91AKIG6Zi6LLyAVneK1PpC87PRy7HrVto2lAfwMSOyO2N7Ctit_xPVMX7uR8w-OuZrd64l_Of21NJkT_fwv5bYvzvTWusgIBWb5/s1600-h/kizzy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVYpGXO31AjdBVRP1oh1jTfHFi1qWHC0FDxsG5jhVd91AKIG6Zi6LLyAVneK1PpC87PRy7HrVto2lAfwMSOyO2N7Ctit_xPVMX7uR8w-OuZrd64l_Of21NJkT_fwv5bYvzvTWusgIBWb5/s320/kizzy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282064634693520226" border="0" /></a>You may remember that my husband hasn’t always been so accepting that the ghosts are the cause of our perplexing issues. I wasn’t due home for a few hours, so he had some time to contemplate a logical explanation for how this scenario had unfolded.<br /><br />His rational and logical explanation : An elaborate prank had been pulled by an unknown person using the following steps:<br /><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Scale the six foot privacy fence to enter the back yard</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Find an unlocked window, which are all at least 8-10 feet above the ground, and enter the house</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Move the 40 lb bag of food so that it blocks entry via the front door</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Stop to laugh at the thought of Devo pushing and pushing the front door to get in</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Let the dogs out of their latched crates into the back yard</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Allow the goat to come in as the dogs are going out</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Relock all doors</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Climb back out the window, somehow reclosing screens and storm windows and jump the 8-10 feet down</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Again, scale the fence to leave the yard</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">• Laugh all night about the joke played on us while putting away the ladders that were necessary to complete this job</span></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0ogyZx-ygPcdb2rYhSMQ57WrEnTdludPbnbSIpS42RwGPQ8R1nE9u53X125zZuQpXcH9oxjCsOtPcMDAqYJD5HESciwqV6__npVK1_BzKK3a6aQERzJ54tUm6ctRXSqDmEBVcW5azeYi/s1600-h/winnie3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0ogyZx-ygPcdb2rYhSMQ57WrEnTdludPbnbSIpS42RwGPQ8R1nE9u53X125zZuQpXcH9oxjCsOtPcMDAqYJD5HESciwqV6__npVK1_BzKK3a6aQERzJ54tUm6ctRXSqDmEBVcW5azeYi/s320/winnie3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282065092576626274" border="0" /></a>OK, so this was the only explanation he could come up with and even he acknowledged that it was a little far-fetched and probably was indeed, not what took place.<br /><br />My simple explanation: The ghosts did it.<div><br /></div><div>He agreed.<br /><br /></div>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-76526798345492716752008-12-18T22:49:00.001-05:002008-12-18T22:52:41.614-05:00Are You Different in the Afterlife Than You Were in Life?<div id="body"><p><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Another insightful article by Melissa Van Rossum</span></span><br /></p><p>Although I didn't realize it at the time, when I was five, my favorite playmate was a ghost. She was in her 40s and a mother of three and she stayed with me for several years before finally finding her way home.</p><p>I've interacted with ghosts all of my life and as an adult I began doing psychic and mediumship readings for clients.</p><p>One of the questions I'm often asked is if our personalities are the same in the afterlife as they were in life.</p><p>The answer is yes, mostly.</p><p>It depends which afterlife reality you're living.</p><p>We can stay earthbound and become a ghost, which is a person who has left their body but has not yet crossed over to the Other Side for various reasons. But this is not a wise choice.</p><p>Or we can cross over to the Other Side. Which is what most of us do. And this is the best choice.</p><p>In both cases certain parts of our personalities stay the same and certain elements change.</p><p>In the situation where someone stays earthbound, their personalities tend to become one dimensional and limited in expression. They become single-minded about their fears.</p><p>Those who choose to stay earthbound tend to do so out of dread or anxiety. Most often they're afraid of what they think will be an angry and judgmental God and they're afraid of some type of punishment or rejection.</p><p>The longer they stay here, the more afraid they usually become.</p><p>Once someone crosses over though, they have a very different experience from someone who is earthbound.</p><p>Jennifer, a client of mine who is intuitive, lost her aunt recently to an illness. Elizabeth was a terribly negative person. When she was alive it was challenging to maintain any kind of a relationship with her since she took every chance to deflate the people around her.</p><p>After she died, though, Jennifer began regularly hearing from her aunt. Immediately Jennifer noticed that her aunt had lost her negative disposition.</p><p>Even more interesting, Elizabeth apologized for her attitude and how she had treated those she loved. She told Jennifer she realized now that she didn't have to act the way she had.</p><p>Jennifer was amazed. Her aunt's personality was still basically the same, but the hurtful negativity was completely gone. And Elizabeth was apologetic and insightful about her limiting beliefs and behaviors. Jennifer mentioned to me that Elizabeth was never insightful or self-aware when she had a body.</p><p>It was very comforting and healing for Jennifer to see her aunt growing and changing in such positive ways that she would not have while she was here.</p><p>Those that cross over receive immediate insight and healing that those who remain on the earthplane do not. That insight and healing helps people to release the more limiting parts of their personalities, allowing them to love and care for us in the ways that they could not when they were here.</p></div><div id="sig" class="sig"><p>Melissa Van Rossum is an accomplished psychic & empath, & the author of two books. In her first book, All You've Ever Known, she shares a process that deepens your intuition & awakens your soul to a happier, more successful and authentic life.</p><p>In Their Way Home, My Adventures as a Ghost Guide Melissa offers revealing perspective as she shares for the first time the very personal stories of her encounters with real life ghosts who searched her out in their quest to find a way back home, and how she helped them to cross over in to the Light. Plenty of books have been written about ghost sightings but in this book Melissa shares the stories behind why these souls chose to linger on the earth plane and how you can live a happier life by learning from the mistakes they made in life...and in death.</p><p>Melissa regularly speaks to the media & groups on topics such as How to Create the Life of Your Dreams, Ghosts and The Paranormal, and What Happens After You Die. You can learn more about Melissa and her books at <a id="link_78" target="_new" href="http://www.allyouveeverknown.com/">http://www.allyouveeverknown.com</a> and<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span><a id="link_79" target="_new" href="http://www.theirwayhome.com/">http://www.theirwayhome.com</a></p><div><p>Article Source: <a id="link_80" href="http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Melissa_Van_Rossum">http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Melissa_Van_Rossum</a></p></div></div>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-11065283842239176462008-12-15T00:04:00.006-05:002009-01-24T15:55:29.499-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part II: The Blonde Girl & The ChatterMy house is pretty crowded. Not just because of the four of us living here, but everywhere I turn I seem to be bumping into someone. I’ve managed to let go of the fear associated with seeing ghosts, but the startle factor is still a big issue for me. I just can’t seem to get used to walking into a room and finding a stranger looking at me and then disappear, or just hang out, depending on the day.<br /><br />The first ghost I actually saw with my eyes in this house was a little girl. She looked about 5 years old, but I knew she was actually 8. Again, I don’t really know the ins and outs of how this ability works, so you’re just going to have to take my word for it. She was skinny with long stringy blonde hair. She never said a word to me. Just watched my every move when she was around. She would follow me from room to room on some days. I remember one day, my husband was rewiring the entertainment center and she was standing right behind him watching with great interest. My husband doesn’t experience the activity at the level I do, so he was completely unaware of her proximity, but me constantly looking over his shoulder finally prompted a “<span style="font-style: italic;">What</span>?” out of him. I explained to him that she was right behind him watching. I’m sure he rolled his eyes (at least on the inside) and went about his business.<br /><br />There was nothing scary about her. She seemed sad. Lonely, maybe? I have no idea to this day who she was, or why she hung around. I do believe we helped her move on and I’ll be posting more about that experience later on (we even captured that on video), but for now, I’ll share a little more about daily life in this house.<br /><br />I used to keep all of our change separated in glass cups in the bedroom. You know, pennies in one, nickels in another and so on. My husband was working at a restaurant that evening and a friend of mine and I decided to go there for dinner to see him. No one was left in the house while we were gone. When we got back, we went to the fridge to put the leftovers away and both gasped when I opened the door…<br /><br />Stacked up neatly in the refrigerator, was all the change from those cups from the bedroom. Today, I wouldn’t think twice about something like that happening, but at the time the house was still new and I was getting used to all the daily weirdness.<br /><br />You may have guessed by my sorting change, that I like things to be a certain way. This trait was not just with my extra coins. It pretty much applies to everything. My organization may not make sense to most, but it’s <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> organization and I liked it to remain untouched (I use past tense because after 2 kids, that pretty much went out the window for my sanity's sake). My husband liked to mess with me a bit from time to time regarding this obsession of mine, so when the medicine cabinet was arranged differently often when I opened it, I would gripe at him to stop doing that. He would always deny it. I would always think he was lying and the fight continued the next time I opened the medicine cabinet to find it rearranged. He swore he didn’t do it, but I know he secretly enjoyed my discomfort about it. Then after he had not been in the house for several days and it happened again, I figured it out. I had to apologize for the accusations.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">I wonder if that ghost was laughing every time I accused him. </span></blockquote><br />Another phenomenon we have around here, I simply refer to as <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“The Chatter”</span>. There will be a very small space that when you move into it, you can hear what sounds like crowd noise. Many people talking, but I am always unable to make anything out. The fact that I almost can make out words sometimes sucks me in and I listen really hard for a long time. I’ve yet to hear anything intelligible. It’s very frustrating.<br /><br />The weird thing is (because that’s not weird enough, right?) the sound comes from a very small location seemingly floating at various heights and locations throughout the house. I’d say it’s an area about the size of tennis ball. If you find <span style="font-style: italic;">The Chatter</span>, and move an inch away, you can no longer hear it. But move your ear back into it’s current location, and there it is again!<br /><br />Unlike most happenings here, I’m not the only one to experience this. I remember the first time my husband heard it. He was laying on the couch and must have moved into it’s space because he got a strange look on his face. When I asked him what was up, he gave a quick, “shh!”.<br /><br />“What <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">is</span> that?”, he asked.<br /><br />After he described what he was hearing, I explained about <span style="font-style: italic;">The Chatter</span> and that I hear it frequently.<br /><br />After knowing all I know about the history and location of my house, I’ve got a little theory cooked up about what’s going on with that. My house seems to be a crossroads of sorts for spirits and I think every now and then that it just translates into something audible.<br /><br />I’ve gotten used to it, but I still stop to listen every time, just to see if maybe, just maybe, I can make out something this time. I’ll let you know if I ever do.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-1630190239837903762008-12-12T02:58:00.001-05:002008-12-12T18:20:18.848-05:00The Book That Changed EverythingI had pretty much settled in to ignoring my experiences most of the time, but did still have an interest in the paranormal for obvious reasons. I wanted (and still want) answers to the bazillion questions I have always had.<br /><br />So I passively watched television shows of a paranormal nature like Ghost Hunters, Paranormal State and Medium.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Ah, Medium…<br /></span><br />While I can’t say my experiences are just like Allison Dubois’s, I connected with her story on some level.<br /><br />Then I read her book.<br /><br />It was literally life changing for me. I can count on my fingers how many books I have read from cover to cover willingly in my lifetime. Reading is probably one of my least favorite pastimes. I read to gather the information I need and that’s about it for me. But I decided to pick up her book, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">“Don’t Kiss Them Good-Bye”</span>.<br /><br />In the second chapter she tells about her first experience with her deceased great-grandfather. She was then promptly told by her mother that she has an over-active imagination and she learned to hide her ability. How I can relate! I was hooked at this point. I felt like I wasn’t the only one! I felt comforted in some distant and weird way. This book suddenly became my friend. Allison became my friend…well, at least her story did.<br /><br />In another chapter “<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Kindergarten Mediums</span>”, she speaks of her kids being gifted and how she deals with that. It was really that chapter that made me realize that I really did need to suck it up, accept this thing and do it for my son.<br /><br />Needless to say, this book had a huge impact on my decision to open up. Even if you’re not in my situation, it’s still a good read if you’re interested in mediumship at all.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">You can get a copy here:<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.jdoqocy.com/click-3251461-10281551?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebooks.com%2Fcj.asp%3FIID%3D227078&cjsku=227078" target="_top"><img src="http://us-preview.ebooks.com/previews/000/000227/000227078/000227078-sml-1.jpg" alt="Don't Kiss Them Good-bye" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.jdoqocy.com/click-3251461-10281551?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebooks.com%2Fcj.asp%3FIID%3D227078&cjsku=227078" target="_top"><br /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.jdoqocy.com/click-3251461-10281551?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebooks.com%2Fcj.asp%3FIID%3D227078&cjsku=227078">Digital Download from eBooks</a><a href="http://www.jdoqocy.com/click-3251461-10281551?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebooks.com%2Fcj.asp%3FIID%3D227078&cjsku=227078"><br /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Or download the audiobook from iTunes: <a href="http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/stat?id=5MkFtZL21NI&offerid=146261&type=3&subid=0&tmpid=1826&RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fitunes.apple.com%252FWebObjects%252FMZStore.woa%252Fwa%252FviewAudiobook%253Fid%253D56992439%2526s%253D143441%2526partnerId%253D30"><img alt="Don't Kiss Them Good-Bye (Unabridged)" src="http://ax.itunes.apple.com/images/badgeitunes61x15dark.gif" width="61" height="15" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />My good friend and the host of <a href="http://dimensionsradio.com/">Dimensions Radio</a>, Chris McGill, did an interview with her for his paranormal radio show. Listen to it below:<div><br /><object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" id="mp3playerlightv3" align="middle" width="250" height="210"><br /><param name="allowScriptAccess" wmode="transparent" value="sameDomain"><br /><param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerlightv3.swf?playlist=http://www.podbean.com/podcast-blog-embeddable-flash-player-playlist2/blogs6/99867/playlist/February2008AllisonDubois373.xml"><br /><param name="quality" value="high"><br /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff"><br /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerlightv3.swf?playlist=http://www.podbean.com/podcast-blog-embeddable-flash-player-playlist2/blogs6/99867/playlist/February2008AllisonDubois373.xml" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" name="mp3playerlightv3" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" align="middle" width="250" height="210"></embed><br /></object><br /><br /><a style="border-bottom: medium none; font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 60px; color: rgb(45, 162, 116); text-decoration: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com/">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /></div>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-21198710557610815562008-12-10T14:43:00.002-05:002008-12-11T11:35:34.129-05:00Someone UnderstandsI found this article while Tweeting (I'm a Twitter addict - <a href="http://twitter.com/reluctantmedium">follow me</a>). I love when I find others who 'understand' where I'm coming from and share like experiences. I found a woman named Melissa Van Rossum, who I realized through reading her blog, had a similar take on the situation I have been facing for the biggest part of my life. So I thought I'd repost her article.<br /><br /><blockquote>Although I didn't realize it at the time, I began seeing ghosts when I was four years old. I didn't know they were ghosts because their appearance was normal, and they looked and acted much like anyone else you might see in your neighborhood or on the street. It wasn't until I was a little older that I began to realize that my friends and family members couldn't see these people as I did.<br /><br />At first I found it frustrating, and even a little irritating that other people couldn't interact with my 'invisible friends', as they called them. And then it was confusing to me that I seemed to be bridging two worlds.<br /><br />I never considered the idea that my friends were 'ghosts'. At such a young age, I wasn't familiar with the term. My playmates were real people, with their own feelings, ideas and opinions. Most of them were kind, and my playtime with them was very interactive. Like most children I had a favorite friend and she stayed with me for several years.<br /><br />I began to recognize a difference between the two types of people in my life as my Father grew increasingly impatient with my persistence and insistence over the reality of my invisible friends. When his annoyance reached a fever pitch with my discussions with people he could neither see nor sense, he would bark, "that's enough, leave it alone," and I knew I was upsetting him. So, I tried to keep my interactions with my "other friends" limited to times when my family wasn't around.<br /><br />To make matters worse, my Mother took me to the doctor and asked him about this habit of mine of talking to people who weren't there, and he pulled me aside and told me to "knock it off" that I was "scaring my Mother". I vowed then and there to keep this part of me as hidden as I possibly could.<br /><br />I grew up in the 70's, a time before any sort of interest about ghosts, the paranormal or psychics became as popular and accepted as it is today. And to make the situation more complicated, we lived in a small Southern town in northern Georgia and my parents were deeply religious. So, as I grew older and the invisible visitors continued on in my life, I was considered odd.<br /><br />No one in my family or community was familiar with ghosts, psychic children, the idea of intuition or dis-incarnates. In fact, they simply didn't believe in any kind of psychic phenomenon at all. To them, it was all baloney. To them, these things simply didn't exist. But in my life, I wasn't afforded the luxury of that kind of unawareness.<br /><br />In my religious upbringing, you lived, you died, you were judged and then you went to heaven or possibly hell. I tried to believe what I was being taught, but here I was having a very different experience from what I was told was real.<br /><br />At this time in my life, I still didn't realize that these people, my invisible friends, were dead people - and there's a good reason for that. They weren't. True, they had left their bodies, all for various reasons, but their spirit lived beyond their body and they were all very much alive. Of that I've always been certain.<br /><br />It wasn't until much later in my life that I realized these entities I saw and felt everywhere I went were ghosts or earthbound spirits. And it would be even a few more years before I realized their purpose in my life.<br /><br />Tried as I may to stick to my religious upbringing, my experiences were flying in the face of my church lessons. So, even though I've tried to deny the existence of ghosts, yes, I'd have to say that they do indeed exist.<br /><br />Ghosts come from all walks of life. They are believers, non-believers, straight, gay, old, young, male, female and from all nationalities. The only commonality they share is that they refuse to move on to the Other Side as a result of different forms of fear.<br /><br />Melissa Van Rossum is an accomplished psychic, empath and author. It is her life's work to help people awaken to their dreams by showing them how to tap into their own Divine Guidance. Their Way Home shares stories of her encounters with real life ghosts who searched her out in their quest to find their way home. To learn more about Melissa and her work visit <a href="http://www.theirwayhome.com">http://www.theirwayhome.com</a><br /><br /><br /></blockquote>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-22692448328155656132008-12-09T00:22:00.005-05:002009-01-24T15:55:17.112-05:00My Haunted House ~ Part II’ve mentioned before that I live in an extremely haunted house. You may think either a house is haunted or it isn’t. Not so! I’ve lived in a few haunted houses in my day, and this house is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">extremely</span></span> haunted.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjld1ZalgPupMzycG2INv2sHGlV8VJF5qR8__LDzkgqUfT267P7PR8UHPhaJoWB3VZFHQEtH_QEpCBRVUdSkc5AaUbgaPplQW2MNLTowjRdnQunxsbFc0v2OBHl9wNRKbTlh3PXHBvJxXOw/s320/DSC01970.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277661583027684658" border="0" />Here’s how the truth unraveled:<br /><br />When I looked at the house before deciding to purchase it, the realtor seemed reluctant to even take me to the dilapidated second floor, referring to it as an “attic”. Yet it had a large sitting room and two bedrooms. It was in a bad state of disrepair though, and the vibe wasn’t so pleasant. I assumed it was the water damaged ceiling and walls falling down that was causing it the icky feeling. It was an icky space. I thought this would be a good project and fixing it up would make all the bad vibes feel so much better.<br /><br /><div>Wrong.<br /><br />The renter that was living in the downstairs at the time said she had a friend that wouldn’t go up there again because she had a “<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">bad feeling</span>” about what was up there. I still managed to convince myself it was just the decrepit state of affairs up there causing that feeling. You'd think that I, of all people, could differentiate.<br /><br />I bought the house and started moving in. It was my first home purchase. I was on my own.<br /><br />The first week I lived here, I maybe should have stopped unpacking, repacked and moved on. I chose to stay and it has been an adventure, to say the least, ever since.<br /><br />At first, the<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi294k5nCKC2B82cGIN__grpytr44qnUDL2LGZ5NrWPzkxtKAxhpcFfmnS12cpfM74q7wlUOkncpDGr8aYs23p4drDxJwMPtfMUktFaojhHao15-7c5fqWQNWgP-P0nVD-gfa5-ZbwhI5BI/s320/DSC01972.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277661800686749138" border="0" /> experiences were relatively benign and I hadn’t actually seen any ghosts, just the remnants of their activities.<br />For instance, I would come home from work to find every single light on in the house. That’s including the “attic” and basement/cellar. Two places I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">never</span></span> visited. On a few other occasions, I’d come home to find, in January mind you, every window in the house wide open, again, including the “attic”. On these occasions, I did call the local police department to come to check things out. After all, I was a young girl living alone. Of course, nothing ever turned up. I did have an alarm system installed as a precaution though. And frequently, the motion sensors in the system would go off. Even after the alarm company testing and replacing things, could never find a reason for the alarms. I eventually just had it disconnected.<br /><br />At this point, I was pretty certain about what was going on here.<br /><br />Then the whistling started. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Oh my god, the incessant whistling</span>! I could hear someone walking from room to room, day in and day out, whistling. For weeks, maybe months, it drove me crazy.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Really? No one hears that? Come on! Seriously, someone else has to hear that!<br /></span></span><br />You may remember, at this point, I was terrified to talk to them, so I just took it as long as I could. Then one day, I just broke. I screamed out loud, “<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">SHUT UP!</span>”.<br /><br />It stopped. Silence. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Aaahhh</span>….It was just that easy. Why did I wait so long to do that?<br /><br />You know I love a little validation, so here it is: A coworker of mine at the time was talking about her aunt and uncle’s house from her childhood. Then she stopped and looked at me and stated that they used to live in the house I live in now. Really? Then I became interested. She was saying that her aunt and uncle loved to have all the kids over and her uncle would usually just pace while watching over them and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">whistle little tunes</span> the entire time.<br /><br />I told her he still did.<br /><br />It wasn’t long after that when I had my first sighting of those who I am sharing this house with. And things only get more peculiar from there…<br /><br /></div></div>The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-60898956590012473182008-12-02T14:31:00.004-05:002008-12-02T14:49:56.505-05:00My Sense of PurposeGrowing up, and even into my early adulthood, I don't ever remember asking myself, "Why am I here? What's my purpose? What's the meaning of Life?". Just never really came up for me. I've never been a dreamer. I never had aspirations. Just never has been my nature. I didn't dream of my wedding day like most little girls. Or a big fancy house to live in. Or what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was asked the question, I'm sure, when I was 7 years old or thereabouts, and probably gave a placating answer with a cute 7 year old smile. But things just are how they are for me. At least that's how it always was. Now I'm starting to wonder.<br /><br />I feel like I made it through some obstacles and came out standing up and holding on to my belief structure, or lack there of, really. I come from a family densely populated with Christians. Every corner you look in, you'll find them. And not even the hypocritical Easter once a year variety. I'm talking the every Sunday No-Matter-What kind of Christians.<br /><br />As a free-thinking adult, I am quite grateful to my mother for not forcing the religion down my throat. I was allowed to pick where and when I went to church. I never felt forced. If you ask my momma though, she'll say she "failed me" in that regard, which makes me sad because it's one of the things I'm so appreciative of. So, throughout my adolescence I did attend a Methodist church (I am now a recovering Methodist). I'm looking around and everyone else seemed to be getting something I just wasn't getting. I'm a determined person, so if there was a bible study, I was there. If there was a choir to sing in, I was there. If there was a mission trip to take, yup, I was there. After a while, I felt like I had as much information as I needed to gather. Then I looked around and just thought,<br /><br />"Really? You people are buying this?".<br /><br />And that was pretty much the end of that. I just don't buy it. Believe what you want to believe. Really. It's fine with me. I encourage you to find your own personal truth. I'm not a real faith-based gal. I need some tangible proof, folks. Some man on a pulpit reading me things from the perspective of some other man I have no connection with didn't sit well with me. He's telling me I just have to take his word for it and it won't be proven until I'm dead? I personally believe that the reason a lot of the ghosts hanging around are doing so because they believed in the judgment they would face at the time of their death and are simply scared to death (pardon the pun) to continue on their journey. It never sounded like something I wanted to do.<br /><br />Like I said, that was pretty much the end of that for me.<br /><br />The point is, I didn't cave. I was strong enough to make the decision based on the information provided to me and stand by it. There has to be purpose for that, right? Otherwise, I'd be sitting in a pew with my Nanny on Sundays. Nothing would make her happier. But I feel like that is not included in my purpose. I have other things to do with my spiritual energies.<br /><br />Then I look back over the past few years and I notice that things seemed to fall into place for me to accept and develop this ability. I moved into a haunted house, possibly, the most haunted house ever. Seriously, it's crazy over here. (I'll be telling you some more about that later on). I began to meet some like-minded, or at least open-minded people that allowed me to open up about this little by little. My son came along and became the "<a href="http://thereluctantmedium.blogspot.com/2008/10/why.html">why</a>" that tipped the scales. The pieces just fell into place in a way that the Universe might as well have been screaming directions/suggestions/intentions at me at the top of her lungs. I guess I'm dense. I'm on the right road now though. Got it, Universe! Got it.<br /><br />There must be a purpose, right?<br /><br />Now the questions come...<br /><br />Why am I here?<br /><br />Why can I do the things I can do?<br /><br />Why this place? This time? These people?<br /><br />And as time goes on, I keep running into other little side abilities I have (another story for another time...it's coming...I promise). Every time I bump into one of those additional abilities, it just creates more questions. This cannot be a random thing. I do not believe in a god, but I do believe in a spirit and a soul and things most people cannot see. I can see them. It's all the proof I need.<br /><br />What am I supposed to do with this?<br /><br />What is my purpose?<br /><br />That's the question I'm determined to answer. It may take the rest of my life, but I'm pretty tenacious. Stick with me on my journey. There's always room for one more. Maybe we can help each other along the way.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-36129591277000845472008-11-23T17:09:00.007-05:002008-11-25T00:33:51.664-05:00More New Orleans ExperiencesYou must remember at the period of time I'm recounting here, I am still uncomfortable and mostly just plain scared of whatever ability it is that I have here. That kept in mind, I'll tell you a little more about the way that I experience New Orleans.<br /><br />It's pretty common knowledge that New Orleans is known for being a mystical and extremely haunted place. The energy there is like no where else I've ever been.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1zPz9St-6_J563RS8Aq_mJit6THTpfjRn9e9jfG30hxuGSE_-gWKDtq7rw96LvgvLXdYJPYAqQX1Y7e8LnPiPS9cR_Hp_ur9I7x7LUIZu9T4AOVYWzTjQNkRPCfAyKhf1WfkuX4BVzh7/s1600-h/sc000257b801.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1zPz9St-6_J563RS8Aq_mJit6THTpfjRn9e9jfG30hxuGSE_-gWKDtq7rw96LvgvLXdYJPYAqQX1Y7e8LnPiPS9cR_Hp_ur9I7x7LUIZu9T4AOVYWzTjQNkRPCfAyKhf1WfkuX4BVzh7/s320/sc000257b801.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271980926200541906" border="0" /></a>On another trip there, we stayed at the <a href="http://www.placedarmes.com/">Place D'Armes</a> hotel. Lovely and affordable place where would could walk around the corner to Bourbon Street and see Jackson Square from our balcony (or was it a gallery...?). Perfect location. We got off an exhausting air travel experience tired, hungry and ready to shower, but the universe had other plans for us. At first I was angry, but soon saw the purpose. We had reserved a room on the second floor or the three story hotel, but were told our room was unavailable and they were preparing us a room on the first floor. They held our luggage and recommended we walk around and get something to eat in the mean time. I was not thrilled about wandering aimlessly tired and smelly from travel, but we had to do what we had to do. An hour or so later, we were once again apologized to, promised a different room now on the third floor, and turned away for another hour or two while our room was being prepared. They were very pleasant and monetarily made it up to us, but I was tired and wanted a shower. We wandered a bit down the halls of the first floor while waiting. I remember telling him that something tragic had happened in this building. The energy was sad and thick. I was hoping the entire building was not this way! Finally, we did get our room on the third floor. We found it odd, though, that the elevator doors would open at the second floor every time we went up or down. At least, every time I was on board it did. Later on, we found out I was the necessary component for the elevator doors to open at the second floor spontaneously. There was never anyone there waiting to get on. It was pretty confounding. Until....(<span style="font-style: italic;">drumroll, please</span>) yes, again, a <a href="http://www.hauntedhistorytours.com/">Haunted History Tour</a>. We learned that our hotel was a site of a large fire (which in New Orleans, seems like every building was the site of The Great Fire). The building used to be a boarding school for boys and they all slept on the second floor. They say that when a sensitive person is on the elevator, the doors will open at the second floor as they are still trying to escape the inferno. Ugh!<br /><br />I am grateful that I did not have to lodge on the first, and especially not the second floor of the hotel. The third floor was relatively calm and in retrospect, the hassle was worth what I didn't have to endure on either of the other floors for a week long stay.<br /><br />On another night of walking the city streets, we passed an alley. Not uncommon. Ton of them there in between the buildings. But this one in particular made me almost cross the street to avoid it. I could not believe the intensity that this one area held and transferred to me. It was nauseating and my heart was racing. I felt like I needed to run away, and fast. But logically, there was no reason to run or even cross the street. So trying to avoid the crazy, I simply moved as far away from the alley as I could, and still remain on the sidewalk, as we walked past it. And on another <a href="http://www.hauntedhistorytours.com/">Tour</a>, we were headed toward the same alley. Oh, no. Here we go. We found out that this particular alley was used to store the new shipments of slaves brought in to the harbor. This was not a comfy storage, though. They were shackled to large iron rings and stacked on top of each other several stories high. They were left there, dead or alive, for days, even weeks. I cannot even imagine what that must have been like, but I did feel the residual energy and it was horrendous.<br /><br />I would love to go back to New Orleans in the frame of mind I'm in now. With my level of acceptance, willingness and fearlessness in hand. It could be an entirely different experience. One thing I'm certain of though, is that is will still feel like home. <img src="file:///Users/jamiepro/Desktop/scanned%20pics/New%20orleans/sc000257b802.jpg" alt="" />The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-10528820719766551372008-11-16T14:01:00.008-05:002008-11-25T00:33:25.638-05:00The Next Mile MarkerLife went on and I kept the majority of my experiences to myself. In retrospect, it is odd that I never considered that maybe I was going crazy or had some sort of mental illness. I just knew that what I was experiencing was real, and that most people just didn't (and don't) understand it. Although, I dare say most crazy people don't know they're crazy, right? So what's the difference....<br /><br />I'd say the next huge mile marker in my acceptance was my first trip to New Orleans. I went in late October (btw, if you haven't been in New Orleans around Halloween, it's a must!) with my, then boyfriend/now husband. I had told him of experiences and he placated me, smiled and nodded and secretly just accepted that it was a crazy quirk about me that he would either accept and/or overlook. This particular trip, however, was the first time I saw the glimmer of<span style="font-style: italic;"> maybe-she's-not-<span style="font-weight: bold;">completely</span>-crazy</span> in his eyes.<br /><br />I've been to New Orleans a few times now, and it feels like home to me. The connection is intense and deep. But there are some places, because of the energies attached, that I just simply cannot go. The first time we went, I was newly pregnant for the first time. A few places we'd walk into to eat or just hang out, I would demand to leave, and he was generally annoyed by it. I usually blamed it on a smell or something making me nauseous due to the pregnancy, but most often it was due to a horrible feeling I had about the place itself. I was trying to cut back on the crazy, and the pregnancy was a good excuse.<br /><br />The light bulb moment for him regarding my skill is forever etched in my memory. We were on a <span style="font-style: italic;">several</span> hour Haunted History walking tour. (My recommendation: When in New Orleans, take every tour you can, they are all amazing). Anyway, about half-way through the tour, we stopped at a pub for a 30 minute break and a drink. No stories were recounted about this location, just a half-way point. Of course, in my condition, I had to pee straight away. I quickly located the woman's bathroom and was grateful for the lack of line. I could barely finish because I began to feel dizzy and light headed. As I was washing my hands, my chest tightened and I became increasingly nauseous. I actually thought I was going to fall to the floor before I could get out of there. I attributed this to morning sickness, or night sickness as the case may be, and after making my way back to the table, I told him I was sick and we had to go back to the hotel. He convinced me to finish up my coke and if at the end of the break I still felt bad, he conceded to take me back to the hotel. However, in just a few short minutes of sitting, I was back to my old self and ready to finish up the tour.<br /><br />Upon leaving the location and walking a few more blocks, the guide stopped to tell us the story of the pub we had just left. As the case may be, it was indeed haunted, they thought, by the great-grandmother of the current pub owner. She had died of heart failure in the kitchen some years ago. That part of the kitchen is now the woman's bathroom. I remember so clearly the look of startle and confusion as he looked at me. I also felt like he was putting it together that maybe I wasn't all that crazy. Maybe I actually was picking things up.<br /><br />(more New Orleans experiences to come...)The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-4456442371915860292008-11-07T15:34:00.011-05:002008-11-25T00:33:14.566-05:00Time Out For a Few Recent Experiences Part IIThe plan for the evening was to investigate two locations. The main location has been investigated several times and usually we have good results (any results are good when you're ghost hunting though). However, this particular evening was pretty dead (no pun intended). I had only one experience all evening of someone/thing touching my back and giving me a frustrated exhale sound in my left ear. As far as I know, we didn't catch anything on video or audio either. I'll take a step back in time and relay a little story about the previous investigation of this particular site.<br /><br /><blockquote>We had split into two groups with two team members leading those who purchased tickets for the evenings events. The group I was with was on the second floor preparing for an EVP session in an area well known to have activity of a woman and a ghost cat. The lead investigator grabbed his 2-way radio to let the other group know we were turning off communication via 2-ways to do the EVP session. All participants were in the same room. As he picked up his radio, this god awful painful and animalistic sound came out of all of the radios. We naturally assumed we had some sort of interference with another set of radios, but the sound was terrible and it sparked a 5-10 minute discussion of what the sound was. After ideas were thrown about, we decided we would probably never know what the sound actually was and decided to move on with the session. Radios off. Everyone silent. The the lead investigator hit record on the digital recorder. We asked a lot of questions hoping to come up with some irrefutable proof of communication from a ghost. Well, ask and you shall receive, right? What we caught was not in reply to any of our questions asked of the spirit during the session, but an answer to the burning question, "what <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">was</span> that sound coming out of the 2-way radios?" Here's what we caught:<br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://reluctantmedium.com/itsthecat.aif" autostart="false" loop="false" controls="console" height="62" width="144"></embed><br /><br />It clearly is saying, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Cat. It's the cat.</span>" This answer came as soon as the recorder was turned on before any questions were asked. I was in the room when we caught this. No one in that room said a word. The investigative team was excited beyond words. As a paranormal investigator, you may listen to hours and hours of audio and never hear anything. So it makes all of those mundane hours worth it when you catch something like this. </blockquote><br /><br />But back to the evening at hand, Halloween Night. Like I said before, the main location was very quiet and uneventful, so we decided to head across the alley to the second location. In previous years, during the ghost tours, this location has held several personal accounts of employees past and present, but the tour takers generally only got to experience the retelling of the stories. For some reason, this year was different though. Many tour groups throughout the two months had heard loud banging sounds and heavy footsteps on the second floor. This is why we chose this as a second investigation location. Now, if you ask the ticket holders, they would probably tell you that location was quiet as well, but a few of us had an amazing experience.<br /><br />As one of the tour guides had the entire group gathered around a table telling them the history and personal experience stories of the building, I became aware of a man standing in the doorway that led to the only set of stairs up to the second floor. This time I did not actually see him with my eyes, I just knew he was there. And being reluctant to accept this ability I have, I cannot tell you how I knew he was there. I just did. It's something we're both going to have to accept. As I walked towards him, he backed up and went back around the corner and stood there. I waited a few minutes and then proceeded to step toward him again. This time as I rounded the corner, he moved up to the first landing of the stairs. I had attracted the attention of another fellow tour guide and explained my sense to him. Then the lead investigator came to me with his night shot camera in hand and recommended that just the two of us go upstairs and check it out before the crowd. I agreed. I think he has much more faith in my ability than I do, but I was game. I wanted the practice. So with camera, flashlights, and 2 digital recorders in hand, we started up the stairs out of sight of the rest of the group. I told him the man was very apprehensive of us coming towards him and we needed to move slowly as to not run him off. It took us several minutes of slow moving to get to the second floor. As we were making the slow and steady climb, the group out front, I found out later, had heard footsteps moving quickly across the ceiling deeper into the second floor. Naturally, they assumed it was the two of us. But we were not even up there yet. When we did enter the second floor, I knew he was hiding in the far corner. Later I found out that is the exact location of where the footsteps heard were headed. (I love a little validation).<br /><br />The only way I can explain the communication I had with this entity from here on out is by emotion transfer. I did not see or actually hear him like I do sometimes, I just knew by how I was feeling what was going on for him. So I sat in the middle of the floor and told him I would not be coming any closer to him and he could come to me without fear. Then I knew he would not come any closer unless our lights were out. So, we went dark. And when I say dark, I mean very dark. There is not a crack of light up there as there are no windows, only concrete walls. I felt him relaxing and beginning to come near us. As he was coming closer, my partner's digital recorders battery drained and cut off. He was using it as an energy source, I believe, for what happened next. I began to get uncomfortably cold. I was shivering, but had an overwhelming feeling of happiness. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was smiling from ear to ear, just from the emotion transfer. Then he ran his hand from the top of my head down to my shoulder following my hair. I felt like I had just made a friend.<br /><br />We stayed for a few minutes to explain to him what we were doing there and that several more people would be coming up there a few at a time to meet him. My partner had also experienced the sharp temperature shift and on the way down the stairs, also felt himself touched on the back. As the groups went up, no one had any experiences with him at all. My partner believed he had cut and ran from the influx of people in his space that is generally undisturbed for the majority of the time.<br /><br />But the two tour guides that hadn't been up there yet were undeterred by the lack of activity. They asked if I would join them again upstairs and felt we may have better luck because they were familiar to him and I had just had some communication. I said sure, why not?<br /><br />When we made our way back upstairs, I simply sat down in the previous location and turned off the lights we had and announced my presence and my intentions. It was almost immediate when I felt him return to me. I could tell you my account of the events, but I like the way the other tour guides describe their experience of that night, so I'll let them tell you their version and say I agree with their accounts:<br /><br /><br /><blockquote>Suddenly Jamie put her hand out in front of her and said "He's right here, do you feel him?" I put my hand where she indicated and at first didn't feel anything and then I believe I felt a very distinct temperature difference - then he moved - he seems to be extremely shy or elusive - he moved over to Jamie's right - then directly behind her. She told me to put my hand behind her head and see if I felt anything.<br /><br />The experience I am about to tell you about is one I am still trying to process in my mind. I have had some pretty unbelievable experiences during my adventurous life, and this one ranks right up there at or near the top. I also believe that I am of relatively sound mind and have a pretty good grip on reality. I am aware of the power of suggestion and believe I can detect the difference in most cases. There have been times when I have questioned some experiences as being just that, was my mind playing tricks on me or were some of those experiences real?<br /><br />This experience I believe was 100% real. As I placed my hand behind Jamie I got a very distinct sensation in my hand as I put my hand in that spot. I could feel the difference by pulling my hand out and putting it back. This is hard to describe, but it was a sort of shimmery, very mild tingly, pulsing electrical charge. Not at all unpleasant - not the sort of tingling when your hand "goes to sleep". I was hyper aware and sitting there in complete awe. I could very distinctly feel the energy in a defined area. Then Jamie asked "him" if it was OK for Farley to experience him. Farley then asked his permission and placed his hand right next to mine. The sensation I was experiencing was then confirmed by Farley, who described the very same feeling - he then said it was almost, but not quite like the sensation you get when you stick your tongue on a nine-volt battery. I pulled my hand away to give Farley the space and the sensation left my hand - I then put my hand back next to Farley's and the sensation was back. We were almost giddy at that point - words just do not explain that feeling. We just sat there experiencing the sensation. Then<br />Jamie told him that we were going to leave and would take everyone with us. We thanked him and left.</blockquote><br />Now for Farley's account of the same experience:<br /><br /><blockquote>...thus when i put my hand into the area, i immediately felt the tingle, shimmeryness... little electric pulses in the ends of my fingers... very light, very pleasant, in retrospect, think the 9-volt on the tongue but at half of the intensity.. very light....<br /><br />it was then that i described what it felt like and barbara confirmed that she had experienced the same pulses.... the same physical sensation...<br /><br />just to clarify... barbara gave no description of what she physically felt other than she was experiencing something.... didn't want anyone to think that power of suggestion had influenced what i physically felt in terms of the shimmery tingleness (the best -unfortunately- set of words i can come up with to describe it.)... </blockquote><br /><br />This particular experience was important to me because it was the first time I feel like I used this ability and had complete control over it. I called him to me and really listened to him. Up until that point, I had always "accidentally" had experiences with ghosts and usually had fear about me as I did. This time the fear was absent and the experience was purposeful. I am grateful that I was able to facilitate an experience for my friends as well. I learned a lot that evening about what I can do and that fear simply isn't necessary. To my friends that were with me when I learned this very important lesson, I thank you.The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7591375593946122606.post-2710316921950514042008-11-04T22:51:00.010-05:002008-11-25T00:33:04.401-05:00Time Out For a Few Recent Experiences Part II'm taking a break from the history of my journey to chronicle a few recent experiences I have had.<br /><br />I am involved in a local Ghost Tour organization where the funds raised go towards revitalizing my small and very haunted hometown. We have a pretty amazing history here and actually have the only working Main Street left in the country where active railroad tracks still run straight down the center of the road. People from out of town freak out a little the first time you drive them on the tracks, not just across them. Although, 35 very slow trains every day essentially stopping the city for 10-15 minutes each does get a little old. I have to keep reminding myself it's a one of a kind thing to appreciate, especially when I'm late getting to my destination. But I do like being involved in events that help restore and preserve our small community and it's buildings.<br /><br />This year, we not only did three nights a week of walking tours through the city for the two months preceding Halloween, but also did The Great Ghost Steak Outs. This entailed, for the ticket buyer, dinner and an investigation of a haunted location with a local paranormal research team. The Steak Out on Halloween was a special one as it was from dinner to breakfast and at two separate locations. Big night! I was excited!<br /><br />The day before Halloween, I was alone working on putting away laundry and reorganizing my son's clothing. For this I required use of my digital labelmaker. I was the last person to use the device (I checked) and if you own one of these, you know it will hold the last word or phrase typed into it until the next typed word or phrase. The last time I used it was also for the purpose of sorting clothes, so I expected it to read something like "pajamas" or maybe "socks". Imagine my startle when I turned it on and read "we are coming soonn". Yes, spelled with two "n"s. WTF? Seriously, I set it down and left the house to sit on the trunk of my car. You see, unexplainable things happen in my house all the time. Daily, in fact. Such as spoons bending, cups flying across the room, things disappearing and turning up in odd places. These things sometimes confound me, but usually don't scare me. The feeling I got in my gut when I read that message was terrible. I was genuinely scared. I didn't know why. I just was. I regained logic for a moment and called my husband, just to verify he wasn't screwing with me. He said he hadn't touched it. His exact response was, "So, are you ready to move now?". Then my next call was to my friend on the paranormal research team to see what he thought about it. He recommended I talk to the group clairvoyant tomorrow night when I saw her at the Steak Out. I have met this woman a handful of times, but do not know her well. I do trust her ability though, as she has proven her skill to me ten fold in the past. I agreed to talk to her about it to gain her insight on the message since I had none.<br /><br />When I arrived, a little late, to the Steak Out, the group was finishing up dinner. So I took the opportunity to pull her aside to speak to her. My friend had already apprised her of my situation a few minutes before my arrival. What she told me freaked me out even more on one level, but on another made me feel much better. That message was not for me at all. It was obviously for her. She proceeded to tell me of a "dream" she had the night before where she ended up channeling someone/thing that used that exact phrase of "we are coming soon" a number of times. This being didn't sound pleasant in her recall, so I am glad the message wasn't for me! But seriously, what am I now? A psychic secretary? Not in my job description. I was concerned that whatever sent the message obviously knew I would be using my labelmaker just in time to get the message to her the next day. I feel "watched" all of the sudden. By someone/thing other than the usual suspects that are always here at my house. We left it that I would just contact her if anything else popped up, but we feel it was a one time thing because I was going to see her the next day. I see her rarely, so hopefully I will not be taking messages for her any longer. Or if I do become the Psychic Secretary, the messages will be of a less threatening nature from here on out.<br /><br />Now, on to the events of the actual investigation....(that's Part II)The Reluctant Mediumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02242250619292369782noreply@blogger.com0