Hub and I went on a Ghost Tour last weekend. I love that sort of thing, and his daughter gave us a gift certificate for the tour for Christmas. We were lucky it wasn’t raining, but cold and foggy, which gave the perfect atmosphere.
Just the history part made the tour worthwhile, but we made multiple stops at various famous downtown Seattle landmarks. Like the Smith Tower.
Security guards tell of hearing furniture being dragged across floors above them, even in rooms where there is no furniture. Shadows are seen flitting across monitor screens, security cameras catching movement on supposedly unoccupied floors. In both cases, when the guards investigate, no one is on the floor.
We went into the lower level of the Merchant’s Cafe, the oldest restaurant in Seattle. I immediately felt the presence of many spirits, especially in the bar area and the bathroom. I saw a lady, dressed in vintage clothing stroll down the hall to disappear into the bathroom. I followed, snapping pictures, then returned to hear the tour guide saying how a woman is often seen going into the bathroom. I wanted to say, ‘Yes, I know’ but kept quiet. The bathroom pics were not that impressive, although a faint orb is visible in one. I had better luck with the bar. I got a few funny looks from others on the tour, but I whispered to the spirits that I knew they were there, and I was going to take some pictures. If they would like to appear in the pictures, that would be much appreciated. I took two pictures with nothing, then got this one.
I know. Dust motes, it’s the quickest and easiest explanation. Hub cleaned the lens thoroughly before we left for the tour, and it was closed unless I had it out taking pics. I did get quite a lot of orb pictures, actually, and they are never in the exact same spot, so I’m quite sure it’s nothing on the lens itself.
I know. It doesn’t preclude floating motes in the air. With the three orbs in the picture above, I’m not 100% convinced they have a spectral origin. These next two though, I’m pretty sure I captured the spirits who inhabit these portions of underground Seattle.
They are so bright and shiny, and I was actively communicating with the spirits in these locations at the time. The only alteration I have made to these two pictures is to crop them to zoom in on the orbs. The bar picture is completely untouched.
This was only my second time actively trying to communicate with spirits and capture it digitally. I’ve had great luck so far and I’m looking forward to sharing them with you. While nothing overt happened to Hub or I on the tour, I did make contact with several of the ghosts in the locations we visited. Including the one that followed us home. Stay tuned for that story!
My next time out, I’m going to try and capture some EVP’s. What ever I get, I’ll be sure and share.
I’ve always been in contact with ‘the other side.’ To varying degrees, true, but the ability to perceive it has always been there. I had never heard the term ‘psychopomp’ until just a few years ago, while taking my Reiki II class. It was then that I also found out that I am a psychopomp, although I can’t say I was surprised. Every place I’ve lived, and most of my workplaces have had resident spirits, and during my time there, that resident spirit has moved on.
Ghosts like me; several have told me they’re ‘drawn to’ me. My friend and teacher explained it like this: being a psychopomp means there’s something in my energy signature, or aura, that is a big bright shiny beacon to spirits. I’m easy for them to ‘see’ both earthbound spirits, and those on ‘the other side.’ I work very closely with my Guides, who have taught me how to use this shininess to help those who are stuck here.
I’d never been to my friend’s apartment, and as soon as I walked in my skin started to crawl. It’s a tactile sensation that brushes across my shoulders and arms, even my face; depending on the spirit’s energy this can be pleasant, painful, ticklish…it varies. This time, it felt prickly, warm and angry. My shoulders tensed and I felt a tingling line trace up and down my neck. This place did not have a happy feel.
“How long have you lived here?” I’m sure my tone came out sarcastic and critical, because I was thinking she’d been there too long already, an emotion that was coming through from the spirits I was sensing. We’d already talked about paranormal subjects, and I knew she was open to them so I didn’t hesitate.
“You know there’s at least one spirit here, right now? Have you been having any problems?” She was taken aback by my directness, “Well, yes!” She sounded both relieved and exasperated. I asked if I could walk around and get a feel for the place. The bedroom was a windowless corner in the basement apartment, and the fulminating presence made the room even darker. Passing my hand in front of the doorway was like touching a wind made of deep anger. Oh, she is pissed, I thought. Out loud though, I told my friend, “It’s in here, she’s in here.” Still standing in the living room my friend only nodded and then told me, “I can’t sleep in that room, I can’t hardly stand to be in it, it just gives me the creeps!”
“Really?” But I knew she was telling the truth, the bed was piled with clothes and boxes. “So, you sleep, where?” I asked. “The couch.” She waved her arms at the large, comfy looking black leather loungers. “Look, we’ve gotta go, or we’re going to be late.” The spirits were amping up their energy in response to my psychic poking around, and neither one was happy. It spilled over onto my friend and she was anxious for us to get out. It was a few weeks later that she asked me to come over and see if I could do anything.
There were two spirits sharing the apartment with my friend, and they were not getting along at all. One was attached to my friend, something she addressed in the ensuing weeks, but the other was attached to the residence. This resident spirit was a woman in her 40’s who showed me images of the sun, and beaches, when she finally calmed down.
But right now, these two were like feuding roommates, and my friend was caught in the middle. She was practically vibrating in response to the tension being generated between the two spirits. The spirit attached to my friend was primarily concerned that I would try to separate him from my friend; he was very protective. I reassured him and asked him to move back and away, then I turned to the other one; at that time all I could determine was that the spirit was female.
She was in the doorway of the bedroom, wailing and complaining. “This is my place! He can’t push me around like that! He is all over, telling me what to do, and this is my place! My room! I can’t even keep him out of my room!” I let her go on for a few minutes, tried to get her to calm down and couldn’t. She did not want to listen, just wanted to make everyone else around her pay for her misery. So I separated them.
I made it clear that either could chose to move on at any time, I showed them the veil and invited them to cross. But when both quite rudely refused, I told the woman, “You cannot continue to fight, here, and upset my friend. So for now, go to your room and stay there.” My friend had some sea salt, so I sprinkled a line across the doorway to the bedroom and told the woman. “Stay in there, or cross the veil. It’s your choice, but stop fighting with the other guy.” I was equally firm with the male spirit, he could move on, or remain near my friend, but he could no longer antagonize the female spirit. The sea salt would keep him away from her as much as it would keep her in.
I knew though, it was only a temporary fix, and that the salt wouldn’t hold them forever. I didn’t intend for it to. I told my friend I’d come back soon and we’d all have a longer chat. Sure enough, she reported a few quiet nights. When things started back up, they weren’t quite as angry, but both were definitely still present and generating intense emotions.
I went back, and walked into my friend’s unused bedroom.
“You were really rude!” The woman, who called herself Sunny, complained as soon as I sat down on the bed. I’m not sure if Sunny was really her name, or just her favorite thing, because a big, warm sun always accompanied images of her. “You threw salt at me! Rude!” She was right. I don’t like pushing spirits around, but I’d been short on time; they’re still people and deserve to be treated with respect. I focused on slowing down and giving Sunny my full attention. “You weren’t exactly listening to me, or helping the situation, but you’re right, it was rude and I am sorry. I really am here to help.” I told her, while I looked around my friend’s bedroom, it was dark, and the air felt tight and hard to breathe. Sunny’s presence swirled around me, and my skin and face tingled. She was angry still, but at least now she was willing to talk.
“Help, how? Why? I was happy, lying on the beach…” Sunny filled my head with warm golden days, and I saw her as she last remembered herself. She had curling gold hair shot with grey, and the slightly leathery, perma-tanned skin of a woman who has spent a lot of time in the sun. She saw herself lying on a towel, gazing out across the water; an older, but still trim bikini-clad body lay with toes pointing toward the shore. I heard the music she was listening to; a crackly radio played the Beach Boys, Led Zepplin and Boston, and I felt the heat of the sun as it hung low in the sky, sinking into the west. Sunny spoke again. “Then she moved in, and he’s here, and everything’s gone to shit! Why’d he have to harsh my high? I just want to lay here in the sun.” She drifted a little, losing herself in her memories of life.
I reminded Sunny that she was dead, and she snapped back. “Yeah, I know! This is it, I’m stuck here in this apartment.” She was bound to this place for some reason, and so spent her time lost in her happier memories, until jarred out of them. She was constantly disturbed by my friend’s male spirit, and so made her displeasure well known, because it kept her from her dreams of life and the beach.
“You do not have to stay here, Sunny. You can move on, go home.” Sunny just scoffed. “What, go to heaven?” She rolled her eyes. “Right! Just leave me alone, let me go back to the beach.” She drifted around the room, retreated into the back of the closet and sulked.
Sometimes, they need to be shown; they don’t know there is a home to go to. I asked my Guides to bring the veil in closer. But where is home? What is the veil? I don’t know, really I don’t. They are convenient terms and labels I use to describe places and states that are difficult to put into words. As I have experienced it, ‘home’ is the place where we reconnect with Spirit, capital ‘S’ Spirit, the Big One. Heaven, Valhalla, ‘the other side’, ‘into the light’ take your pick, I use ‘going home.’ The veil is what separates ‘home’ from ‘here.’ I see it as a large, shimmery wall that feels soft, like fur or cashmere and kind of tingles when I touch it. When I ask my Guides to bring the veil in closer it makes the veil more apparent. I don’t know what the physics of it might be, but it makes the veil and what’s beyond it more discernible, to me and to the spirit I’m talking with.
When the veil appeared, Sunny focused her attention on it. “What is that?” Her emotions were a blend of fear and awe. It was beautiful, but she didn’t know what to expect from it. I did my best to show her, that she could cross the veil, go home, and she would no longer be stuck here. “You can lay on the beach forever if you want, and never be disturbed again.” I told her. She only scoffed, and retreated further into the closet, more fearful now than interested in the veil. She turned her attention away from me, sinking back into her summer dreams. I asked my Guides to see if they could find any of Sunny’s loved ones who were in spirit, or her Guides, and reconnect them with Sunny. At that time, they could not, she’d been disconnected and lost in her memories for so long my Guides could not immediately locate Sunny’s Guides.
“Here’s the deal Sunny, you can do whatever you want. Go home, or stay in this closet, it’s your choice. Take your time to think about it, and I’ll have a chat with the male spirit, and ask him to leave you alone. You’ve been here so long, you don’t know if you want to move along, that’s okay. If you change your mind about crossing the veil, I’d like to offer you something to make it easier for you to find.”
In Reiki II, I learned an energy medicine technique called the Bridge of Light. This is an energetic bridge between the earth plane and home, made using Reiki. I then ask my Guides to bring any of the spirit’s loved ones or Guides to the Bridge, to help when the spirit decides to cross. I offered the Bridge of Light to Sunny; she looked at it with suspicious curiosity. “You can cross at any time, or never. But, please, for my friend’s sake, tone down the heavy, scary vibes. I’ll ask the male spirit to leave you alone, tell him you don’t mean any harm.” I stood, and brushed at my arms and legs, sweeping away clinging energies. “Are we good, Sunny?” She turned her back on me, but nodded in assent. Her emotions were quieter now; less angry, more speculative. She sank again into her own thoughts, fading from my view, and the mood in the room lifted. Even though I’d left the lights off, it suddenly seemed brighter in there.
I checked in with my friend, and Sunny a few days later. My friend was happier because her invisible roommates were no longer fighting, and Sunny was more curious about the Bridge, but still wary. I was pleasantly surprised then when a week later Sunny came and visited me. She’d decided to cross the veil and had come to say thank you, and goodbye, disappearing into a dark gold sunset.
I waited a few weeks, and then asked my friend how things were going at her apartment. “Quiet, it’s been amazingly quiet. I’ve been very happy!” There was no more emotional turmoil from her spirit roommates, and she could no longer feel Sunny’s presence. The last thing she said was the best news I could have heard. “I’ve been sleeping in my bed for the last two weeks!” She declared happily.
All images are taken by and under copyright to ME! Please ask permission before use. Thank you!
I’ve run into two types of paranormal activity associated with the spirits of humans who’ve died. First, there are the earthbound spirits I’ve been detailing so far; these are beings who cling to life, and the earth, and have the intellect to interact with those of us still incarnate. These are what we usually think of as ghosts. However, not all apparitions are necessarily aware of us humans on the Earth plane or trying to communicate with us. Some of them may not even see us or react to our presence, but go about their actions as if we were the ones not there.
Commonly known as residuals, these are powerful emotional leftovers of events or trauma that took place in a particular locale. Residuals replay over and over a scene that is seemingly ignorant of current surroundings. For example a phantom stagecoach is sometimes seen crossing the 57 freeway in Southern California.
I encountered a residual haunting when I walked through two men fighting. I was visiting a county fair that had an old farmhouse on its grounds. I didn’t have any of the typical sensations of a nearby spirit. The day was bright and sunny and my friend and I were having fun poking around the old house.
We came into a large open room, a gathering space not a bedroom or kitchen. There was no furniture, only windows, a fireplace and a chandelier. I walked into the center of the floor to peer up and get a closer look at the dangling lamp. Between one moment and the next several things happened at once. I became very nauseated, dizzy and lightheaded. I couldn’t see my friend but two men stood facing off against each other. It was as if I was between them but they couldn’t see me. They were arguing. I could hear the yelling but couldn’t understand their words. They were close to each other, pushing and then grappling. Each man carried a gun and they fired almost simultaneously.
The cramping and nausea had me nearly doubling over and I really was feeling like I was going to faint. I called my friend over and she had to help me out of the house. Once outside, the nausea evaporated along with all my other symptoms, and never returned.
“That was weird.” She looked at me, concerned and I told her what I’d seen and felt. We both shivered not knowing exactly what had happened. We continued to explore the fair but stayed far away from the old farmhouse.
What sort of ghosts have you encountered? Was it a true haunt or a residual?