The Accidental Medium

This is the continuing story of Anthony’s Message. If you missed it, here is Part 1 and Part 2.

“Whaatt?” I say in my head.
But I feel it’s true. I’ve never felt so sure of winning something in my life. I know I’m going to win this raffle.  I feel the nudge.

I call over to my Hubbie who’s talking with another Dad, “Hon, can you go buy another set of tickets, please?”  He waves at me from across the room.

I’m now talking to my close friend Eve.  She’s insightful, very intuitive. She’s a sister from another life. She’s already heard about the crash. Her husband’s friend’s son is a friend of Anthony. The young man is devastated by this news.  We’re all shaken. It’s a parent’s worst dream come true.  And it’s unthinkable for a teenager to lose a friend.

I tell Eve about the Soul System, that Anthony is an old soul. Dad says he’s a 5.  That he didn’t have to come back. That he came back for a reason – to activate the souls here. She nods.  She has already gotten the message on FaceBook that Anthony’s accident has touched hundreds. And it only happened 36 hours ago. Hard to believe.

Eve says, “I bet Matilda is a 5 too.  ”

I haven’t told Eve about what’s been going on in the house. 
About Matilda waking up the night of the crash.  That Anthony seems to be visiting us and hanging out with Matilda. I’m not sure, after all.  It seems too much to hope for. I need more proof.

One hour later, the raffle organizer is yelling, “Last call for tickets! Last call for tickets!” It pops into my head that my man hasn’t bought those tickets. I grab his arm, “Hon, did you buy those tickets?” Without a word, he rushes over and buys another set of five tickets before the raffle sales closes.

Matilda’s little friend walks up to the big jar stuffed with tickets to pull the winner. I whisper in my husband’s ear. “We’re going to win this. Get your tickets out!”

The organizer calls, “The Winner is…… !”  She calls out the number.

My husband looks down at his two sets of tickets.
Then walks over to the Raffle organizer. He exclaims, “We’ve got the ticket!” He comes back with the primitive oil painting of our little red brick schoolhouse – and hands it to me.

He looks at me, shaking his head, incredulous.  I smile back at him. “I told you we were going to win this.”

“What are we going to do with this? We have no walls!” My husband is happy to win something, but he’s also a practical man.

“We’ll find a good home for it.” I reply.

At this moment, I look up to see Deb approaching us saying in her quiet voice. “I’m so happy you won this. I know you’ll enjoy it. And the girls will enjoy it too.” She adds quietly, “I’m just a little bit sad. I bought 4 sets of tickets.  I even had a spot picked out.”

I thank Deb and give her a hug. (And I know what we’re going to give her for an end-of-year teacher gift. We won it for her).

As we’re getting into the car, I tell my family we’re going to give the painting to Deb as a surprise.  All agree it’s the perfect gift for a much beloved teacher.

Then it dawns on me.
“Hon?! What was the number on the winning ticket?”

My husband can’t remember. He pulls the ticket from his pocket. “It’s O-5-O.”

“Oh, My God!  Anthony helped us win that raffle!   He helped us get the painting. And he solved our gift idea for Deb!”

On the way home, I explain the Soul System to my bewildered husband. I tell him how Anthony has been coming in since Friday night.  How he’s been hanging out with Matilda. That I asked for distinct proof it was Anthony.  And got it.

My husband doesn’t question this. He feels it’s Anthony.  He answers matter-of-fact, “It’s the kind of thing he’d do, isn’t it?  Let us know he’s here – with something fun, that helps people. It’s very creative, how he did it.”

I agree. It’s seems exactly the kind of thing Anthony would do.

We’ve now parked in our driveway and my husband turns to me saying, “Looks like you have a job to do: Talk to Monica and Rufus. Let them know he’s around.”

That night we finally get the girls fed and to bed. They’re having difficulty settling down. So much excitement playing with their friends at the Auction.   My husband leaves the newspaper open on the kitchen table – Anthony’s life is outlined in a big city newspaper article with a photo of a heart-breaking impromptu roadside memorial.

I check FaceBook. More comments.  Kids are shocked.  There are many posts about promising not to drink and drive, and not let friends do it either.  “Tony’s Promise” is spreading fast.

My sister-in-law calls me. Sheryl says, “Lo, we spent the day with Monica, Rufus and Alanna. It was so sad.  I think it would really help if you called them. You won’t bother them.”

I know. It’s time. I’m not sure how that’s going to play out though.  Monica and Rufus don’t know much about me, about our mediumship abilities.  I let that thought go.  What’s supposed to happen will happen. I’m tired. I need to go to bed.

“Mommy!!!!!!” 
It’s 3 am. It’s Matilda.

I’m quick to Matilda’s room, making sure her yells don’t wake up Kate in the other room. Anthony is standing by the bed.

“It’s okay, Mattie.  Anthony’s here. He’s our friend, remember?  I’ll stay with you til you fall asleep.”

Matilda rolls over, pulls the covers over her head. I slip under the comforter on the spare bed.  Soon I hear the snuffling of Matilda’s soft snores.  I shuffle bleary-eyed back to my room.  Anthony is soon sitting on my bedside. I can see him clearly.  He’s definitely crossed over. We chat.

“Anthony. I told you that I’d tell your Mom and Dad you’re here.  Tell me what happened”.

I hear Anthony’s voice in my head.
“It happened so fast.” (He shows me a car coming across the center line – the scene is playing on a screen in my head).

“I wasn’t scared. I just tried to get out of the way. When it hit, I didn’t feel anything.” (I don’t feel any pain in my own body as Anthony says this. Often I do feel the physical pain of others.)

“I just felt my body tingle – it felt good – and then I lifted up out of my body. I saw…” (Anthony shows me his grandmother looking at him through the windshield).  “She gave me a hug.  She took my hand.   I was so happy to see her.  She’s alive, you know. She’s here, you know.”

I know. I say, “Anthony, was this an ‘accident’ or was this your time?”

“Well…. if it was an accident, it was a pretty good time to go.”

I understand what he’s saying. He’s an old soul. As we collectively move into higher consciousness, Anthony is activating a huge number of teenagers. And many of us adults.  Life is short!  He’s reminding us to live full out, follow our passions.  But do it with care and kindness for those around us.

The next day I have errands in the city.   Anthony seems to be enjoying the ride in the passenger seat.  “I have friends who will want some things of mine. Tell Mom.  She’ll know what to give. But when the time is right. There’s no rush.”

He shows me a red car.
It’s in his room. I can’t tell from the images if it’s a toy car, a picture, or what.  But the message is a red car. I need to tell Anthony’s parents. They’ll know what it means.

I’ve been crossing to do’s off my list and now sit in the car in the pharmacy parking lot.  The radio is on.  I crank up the music. I’m nervous. I know I must call the McColls.  The news cuts in.  There’s a clip about the accident. The news reports the crash as occurring just after 2:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. It’s now Monday. It gives me the nudge.  I pick up my cell phone.  Anthony is happy.  He says, “Don’t worry. You won’t reach them. They’re busy.”

I ring the home number anyway.  A woman answers. Rufus and Monica are being interviewed by a television crew.  Can I call back later?  I’m amazed at the media coverage this is getting.

But I also have that sinking feeling, after you crank yourself to do something difficult, only to find you have to wait it out.  Anthony has this grin on his face. “I told youuuu!”

I’m wondering again, how is this going to play out. 
The radio music filters into my brain. It’s Kelly Jones singing Maybe Tomorrow. The Stereophonics’ lyrics say a lot about how to live life fully, even though things may seem black at the time. And the song’s refrain is “Maybe tomorrow… I’ll find my way home…”

Anthony says, “See? You’ll talk to Mom and Dad tomorrow!”

I have to laugh. Spirit often, I mean OFTEN, uses music to get its messages across. That’s one way we can tap into our loved ones who’ve left this physical plane. When you are thinking of them, turn on your favorite radio station and listen to the music.

Anthony changes the subject. He confesses, “I’ve been kinda buggin’ Alanna.”

Once a big brother, always a big brother.

“What have you been doing to that poor girl?”  I admonish.

“I’ve been teasing her. Pulling her hair.  Things are dropping for no reason.” An honest answer.

I see a pencil rolling off a desk, a book falls out of a girl’s hand; Alanna is swiping stray hairs away that keep falling onto her face.

“Does she know it’s you?” I ask.

“I think she does but she’s afraid to believe it.”

“She’s afraid?” I’m saying this with just a bit of pointed parental irritation.

“I knowwww…”Anthony admits he’s possibly freaking out his sister. “I’m backin’ off…”

“I’ll get the message to her that it’s you. Just don’t stand so close. ‘K?”

“Thank youuuuu.” he replies in a monotone.

Sheryl calls me that night. “Did you see the TV interview with Rufus and Monica? It’s posted on the news website.”

I load the video news interview of Anthony’s parents.
Anthony’s heart-broken parents are sitting close to each other at their kitchen table, talking to the reporter about the accident, about the parents of the son who plowed into Anthony’s vehicle. The spliced-in video B-roll shows a crumpled red car.

Rufus has tears in his eyes. He’s saying, “We hold no judgment.  This could have happened to any of us. We’ve all lost a child in this tragedy”.  Monica is nodding her head in agreement, holding her husband’s hand.

At this moment, I start to cry. I am so proud of those two. It’s an honor to be a friend of theirs.  Their compassion and forgiveness is truly remarkable. They are role models for us all.  They didn’t follow the typical “easy” path of blame.  They rose above it.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
I look up from my dining room table. Anthony is coming through. He’s got his arm around someone’s shoulders. It’s another young man. I cannot see the man’s face – It’s blurry.  His body outline is fuzzy. And his energy feels unsure, nervous, possibly a little frightened.  The young man doesn’t speak.

Anthony looks me straight in the eye and states, “We’re not leaving him behind.”

That’s when it hits me. It’s the boy who hit Anthony. But he’s lost.   He’s not crossed over. (A.k.a a ghost).  Anthony is staying with him.  Reassuring him.  This is what Anthony would do.

Before they fade away, Anthony adds, “Look at the video again – I’m with them. I’m standing behind Mom, on her left side.”

I go back to the computer, and press ‘play’ on the news video.  I scan the scene for signs.  I don’t see Anthony. But I do see Monica is wearing a crisp white shirt – and there’s a spot on her left shoulder that is surprisingly crinkled, where a hand might rest.

As I listen again to Rufus’s words of forgiveness, I am struck by the true meaning of Anthony’s words…‘We’re not leaving him behind’. Anthony is telling us he’s working through the veil, co-creating with his parents.  They are a team.  The McColl family will always be a team. By voicing their compassion, Rufus and Monica will help the young man release from this earth.  He won’t get stuck here, attached to the physical realm.  He’ll be freed.

And Anthony’s family’s words and actions will encourage others to forgo judgment. What’s done is done.  No need to create more pain by criticizing, finding fault, laying blame.  We are all connected.  This tragedy could have happened to anyone.   How we choose to respond to the heartbreak is what counts. It’s about choosing kindness and forgiveness and compassion.  It’s about living life and choosing love. That’s Anthony’s message.

- With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.

(c) 2010, 2011, 2012 The Accidental Medium. UltraMarine Media Inc. All Rights Reserved.

You remember pop quizzes in school?
How much did you hate those? Sure it was okay if you’d already studied. You probably felt relieved or smug or both. Or maybe you got an inkling ahead of time so you had a chance to cram in the hallway. But what if you were just hanging out, enjoying life, then WHAM! A calculus quiz is placed face down on your desk. Surprise! You have a limited time to dig deep and find out what you’re made of.

Ugh..

We’re all here to learn. Most of the time we consciously step forward to expand ourselves, whether it’s learning how to create a webinar for your business, perfecting your tennis backhand or whipping up eggs benedict for twenty. We get stretched, but we choose to stretch ourselves. But sometimes a learning opp rises up unexpectedly on our path that we don’t choose. Even though we may try to avoid it, eventually we have to face it.

As a medium, I get a lot of unexpected tests.
And they don’t just happen during normal working hours. They are all about expanding my capacity to understand and communicate messages between realms. I’m always given a break between lessons, to regroup, and assimilate what I’ve learned. I get to relax, and retrain my beliefs before the next lesson begins to reveal it self. It’s very clear it’s a test. Like a pop quiz has been dropped on my desk.

These Spirit lessons don’t stop just because I’m on holiday – in fact it’s during holidays, when I’m out of my usual zone, that it’s easier to get my attention, push me to step further out, trust and expand my ability.

It’s our first holiday away as a whole family.
Our traveling family unit now includes wee Matilda (just two). Along with my Mom, we head for the Riviera Maya. Mexico is a favorite haunt of my hubby. He’s worked in Mexico, photographing its huge landscapes, vibrant culture, archeological treasures and warm faces over many years and many visits. I’ve come to love it too. We choose a sleepy beach town that we both agree is perfect for this first full family vacation. Safe, protected and not particularly touristy, a highlight of this location is renting a casita right on the beach.

We arrive on a Saturday evening, unpack and are asleep before the sunset’s colors soak into the night sky. Soon it’s a beautiful morning. The aquamarine sea calls us down to dip our toes in the shallow surf. On the beach, we meet our first casita neighbor – a real estate man whom we soon discover has the inside track on just about everything. He kindly proceeds to give us a lay of the land, where to get groceries and get our laundry done, the politics of reserving beach chairs, and even who some of our other neighbors are. As we sit under the umbrellas chatting and getting to know each other, an elegant woman strides by, in practical walking attire, a backpack on her back, and a lot of strength in her step. She’s probably my Mom’s age.

“That’s Hope” says Dan.
“She’s a neighbor of ours from back home. In fact, you’ll find a lot of people who are regulars here are from our neck of the woods. She and her husband have been coming here for years – they told my wife and I about this place about ten years ago. We’ve been coming here ever since.”

“Hope’s been through a lot. Her husband Hank – wonderful guy – died on their last trip here just after New Year’s. He’d been sick for a while, but it happened so fast. Right after they arrived. Shocking really. So traumatic. Hope brought him home and the family had the funeral. We were all there. It was huge: Full-blown Catholic funeral. We didn’t think Hope would come back, but here she is. Her family is with her – they are continuing the holiday they’d planned. She’s a strong woman.”

I’m thinking, “Wow. Good on her!”

A mid-day Mexican sun is far too intense for our fair skin so we pack up our beach things and head back to the casita to take a 3-hour afternoon siesta. The girls nap. We nap. We read and do puzzles with the girls. The girls color in their coloring books and play with their dolls. The sun’s rays weaken around 3 pm and we are soon out on the beach sploshing in the gentle waves of the protected bay.

We meet a couple on the beach.
They have a young boy about Kate’s age. Kate has a knack for making friends and immediately develops a buddy-ship. The boy is gentle, happy and fun, and reminds Kate of her friend Jake back home. Our two girls are making sand castles with young William while hubby and I talk to his parents. We learn they are from the same town as our newly found friend Dan. Bill is a real estate developer, and Louise used to be a career technical writer in the computer field but is now a stay-at-home Mom. William is her life.

As we get to know them, Louise tells me that her Dad just died here a few weeks before due to complications from Parkinson’s Disease – he had a stroke before it had gotten really ugly. Louise’s Mom and Dad had only been here two days when it happened.

Louise elaborates. “Even though it was earlier than we expected, Dad’s death was kind of meant-to-be. Dad was staying in his favorite place in the world, in their favorite casita, and had had his last dinner at his favorite restaurant in the world”….

Louise tells me the name of this special restaurant – but I miss it.
In the back of my mind, I’m thinking ‘we need a good restaurant tonight after last night’s cheese and crackers…’ But the conversation has moved quickly into serious life and death territory. I don’t want to interrupt the flow to clarify the restaurant name. This is obviously the daughter of Hope, Dan’s neighbor who lost her husband. The family has been through a lot. Louise needs to talk.

Louise continues. “My Mom is taking it extremely well. Mom went back with Dad’s remains and we had the funeral. It was Mom who decided to come back here. She insisted that we continue the plan of a joint family vacation. We’d all had our tickets bought, and the casita was booked. My sister and her family are staying at the hotel down the beach.”

The sun is setting. It’s now 5:30 pm.
We’ve been floating about in the warm shallows in the bay, but it’s getting ‘chilly’ with the sun going down, so we collect our kids, say goodbye and head back home. The girls are soon showered and cuddled up in their pj’s watching a movie on our portable DVD player. I grab a chance to have a hot shower by myself.  Now THIS is a vacation. Child-free showers!

There in the shower, I’m totally relaxed, not thinking about anything in particular. Just feeling the salt and sand of the day rinse off my skin, the stickiness seemingly evaporates off my body into the steam. Ahhhhhhhh…..

“He’s still here. He’s not passed over. He’s with Hope. You’ll get a chance to tell Hope that he’s still around. He’s having fun with them…. FREEDOM.”

“WHAT??” I say to nobody in particular. ‘oh no…” I’m quickly jettisoned from my underwater reverie.

I may have mentioned this before – for me showers can act like a channeling chamber. Water amplifies and speeds energy transmissions. And I often get key words when getting a download from Spirit. FREEDOM is the keyword this time around. Hank is free to enjoy his family without the limitations of that terrible disease.

I don’t know these people from Adam.
I beg, “I can’t do THAT!” I don’t know these people from ADAM!”

I plead, “You expect me to just walk up and say, Hey! We just flew in on the Chicago flight? I’m a clairvoyant medium and I happened to get a message for you about your deceased husband while I was taking a shower?”

I continue to argue my case. ” What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh. And by the way. I’m meant to tell you your husband is having a blast. And how do you like us so far…?’ I can’t do THIS!!!!”

I’m feeling a bit queasy. All of a sudden I’m hearing the distinctive Lalo Schifrin theme song in my head. I think I’ve just been dropped into an episode of Mission Impossible. ‘Your mission, should you decide to accept it… Good Luck, L…’

This is not a pop quiz.
This may just be Mission Impossible. I can’t do this test. I don’t know how.

Then I hear the name “CHARLES“. I am supposed to ask Hope about someone named Charles. I hear “They will know who it is.” oooh boy. Spirit is not letting up on this one.

As I towel dry, I make a deal.

I say, “OKAY. I will do this but only if you give me THREE signs that CLEARLY show I have to go through with this. And it has to happen in the next 24 hours”.

Deal.

For our first dinner outing, we’ve decided to check out a little local restaurant recommended by Dan. When we get there though, we find it closed. (Not Dan’s fault – if we’d asked I’m sure he’d have told us it’s a no-go on Sunday nights). We’ve passed an interesting looking restaurant on our way to this one, so we back track. I look at the name – “Cueva del Pescador”.

That’s a sign. I recognize it.
That’s the name of the restaurant where Hank had his last supper. I’m sure of it.

“OK. That’s ONE, ” I say to Spirit, “But I need TWO more signs…. !”

So early the next morning, I’m organizing my family, trying to get them down to the beach for some time in the water before it gets too hot. Herding cats, I mutter to myself. We finally get it together. I have the girls on the last of a few steep steps down to the beach when Hope, Louise and her son walk right by us. We say “Hi”.

I comment under my breath, “Is THAT supposed to count? Coincidence…!?!”

We’re on the beach for a couple of hours before I herd my family back up to the casita. Kate has left some toys by the water so I turn back there to pick them up out of the sand. As I hit the first step to the beach, Louise and her sister, and her Mom go by – again. We say “Hi!”

“OK.” I say to the power that is. “Third sign, but overall, if these last two are signs, they’re pretty ‘light weight'”….

Now Hubby and my Mom are getting into “the signs”.
They’ve been keeping track. I told them at the Cueva del Pescador that I’m on a mission. Hubby is fascinated in a bemused yet ongoing observer kind of way. Mom is visibly concerned. She doesn’t want me to have to worry about this: I’m on vacation after all. Then there’s the risk of becoming a social pariah.

Mom keeps asking me, “How is this going to happen? How are you going to do this?” How are you going to figure out how to deliver it in some kind of acceptable fashion? She just lost her husband! What if it’s not appreciated?”

My own ego couldn’t have said it any better.

I tell my Mom, and my ego, “I’m being told not to worry. It’s all going to happen. It will happen effortlessly. I’m just supposed to let go and wait for it. It will work out perfectly. Maybe I’m not meant to tell Hope directly. Maybe I’ll be told to tell friends of hers who’re here, who’ll get the word to her. Or maybe I’m supposed to tell Louise. Or…” and I say this -jokingly to get her reaction, “Maybe YOU’LL tell Hope, Mom.” Mom shuts up.

So now it’s Tuesday. I’m not happy with my three signs – they aren’t strong enough. I tell Spirit to “This isn’t working for me. Step up!”

Again, I’m herding my girls down to the beach. We hit the bottom step and turn because Louise is power walking by saying, “HI! We must get together!” Then 2 hours later I am herding the girls back up to the Casita, and as we hit the bottom step, William walks by with his grandmother Hope, and other relatives. He says to the girls, “HI!”

We’re up to five signs in a day and a half.
But, I say to myself. “These signs are SO lame. Of course we’re going to see these people walking along here. I’m not buying it.”

With that comment, we don’t see a member of Hope’s family for the rest of the day. No more signs. They’ve come to a halt. Maybe I don’t have to do this after all. Or maybe my test has been postponed, if not canceled.

About 4pm we decide to explore the shoreline. We’re gone for more than an hour. As the sun sets, we’re walking back along the waterfront walkway that ambles its way in front of the long string of casitas. I get sidetracked by something Mom is pointing out on the iron shore. The next thing I know, hubby and the girls are gone. Where the heck have they disappeared to?

“Come here! Come on! Come in!” I hear my husband calling us. He’s standing in the garden of an unknown casita, motioning us to come over.

As Mom and I arrive at the door, we’re greeted by Hope, Louise and Bill. It’s the casita Hope’s renting. William is showing Kate and Matilda his lego construction. And there is a very present male energy in the far end of the living room.

My voice in my head says, “There he is.”

I try to ignore Hank in the room.
We chat with our new friends. If his presence goes away – maybe I don’t have to do this? Hank’s energy remains there. His energy is light, but he’s very present.

It’s soon time for dinner. I gather the girls from the bedroom where they have been having the time of their lives jumping on a king-sized bed-turned trampoline with William (something verboten in our house).

I come back out of the bedroom into the main living area with kids in tow, and there is Hank standing in the kitchen in full form, between the sink and the fridge. He doesn’t say anything. I make another half-hearted attempt to block him out, but he’s very much there. Standing firm.

I give.  We’ve found the body.
Astral. But a body none-the-less. I guess I am really going to go ahead with this mission. Hank seems pleased.

Hope and family have plans to go out for a special dinner this evening, so we promise to get together the following day – the last full day before their departure.

The next day will be my chance to get Hank’s message to Hope. I feel it in my gut. The word “How” keeps popping in my head. It’s a word that messes up divine intervention. I acknowledge it and put the How on a shelf in my head. I return my attention into trusting it will all happen, some “How”. My job is to stay open: And trust that an opening will reveal itself to deliver the message.

The next day arrives and we’re all off in different directions.
I finally get a moment to myself sitting on a chaise lounge on the beach. It’s my half hour “off”. This is turning out to be 24/7 childcare for both me and hubby – we’ve been tag teaming. The girls are only two years apart but often their interests and nap schedules don’t coincide. This age is a busy time, even on holiday. It’s certainly easier than usual, but it’s still not easy. I’m tired.

Louise’s husband Bill walks by and calls out, “Let’s get together in a little bit!”

A little later Louise flies by on her power walk and gives an update, “We are getting the troops together – we’ll see you soon!”

It’s late in the afternoon when Louise, Bill and William show up together where all my family is now playing on the beach. Louise advises, “Mom is on her way. Bill, go back to the casita to get some wine. Let’s have a little going away party!”

Bill heads off to get wine for the impromptu party.
I make my way back to our casita for drinks and snacks. I return to a much larger gathering. Other guests and friends have discovered our party on the beach – and are milling about with more wine, more snacks. Hope has shown up and is talking to Mom.

A blue-lipped Kate is upon me. She’s been playing in the waves in the setting sun and is now teeth-chattering cold. I dump my party supplies on a chaise lounge and backtrack to the casita to get Kate into warmer dry clothes.

Kate and I return to the beach to find a freezing Matilda.
As I return to the casita to get Matilda changed out of her wet bathing suit, I notice the group on the beach is even larger now – other guests who’ve been watching from the periphery have beetled in. In passing, I hear a couple trying to sell Amway along with their devotion to Jesus Christ as our personal savior. I get a sinking feeling my mission is sliding off the rails.

Off to one side, Hope is still talking to Mom, while her family members are dispersed along the beach chatting with various friends and guests. Kids are congregating, shrieking and playing along the waters edge. The party is in full swing.

I’m thinking to myself, “This is going down hill really fast.
I just don’t see this happening. How do I have a quiet moment with Hope with all this going on?” Trust is becoming a shaky proposition. I try to throw off the feeling. “Don’t expect anything! It will all happen! Somehow?” I just don’t know…

I finally return to the party with a dry and warm Matilda in tow. I’m now verging on harried, and a little out of breath. I’m resigning myself to things not happening the way I thought. Maybe it’s not meant to be. I didn’t balk at the test. I just didn’t get an opening. And that’s okay.

A warm and dry Matilda heads off to play with her sister and friends as I walk up to the edge of the group. Hope turns to me and says matter-of-factly, “Your mother and I have been talking. She tells me you are clairvoyant.”

A bubble of elation rolls up into my throat.
I stifle a hoot. Mom did it!!! She’s created the opening!

I say, with a smile, “Yes. I am.”

Hope proceeds, “I feel Hank around. I feel him very close. I have to admit, I don’t feel sad. Or at least not as sad as I’m supposed to be.” She pauses. “We’ve been coming down here for years so we have some longtime friends here. Many are from back home. They are making me feel kind of guilty. I guess I’m not the picture of an inconsolable widow. Maybe they think I’m being insensitive – to all that’s happened. I guess it upsets them. I’m not behaving as I should. I’m not grieving. Instead, I’ve been busy, having fun with my family. It’s been hard. But not the way I thought it would be.”

I blurt.
“How can you miss your husband when he’s standing right here?” Hank is standing behind Hope’s left shoulder. “Of course you aren’t grieving. You know he’s here. He was in your casita when we visited you yesterday. He’s around you… Of course… you KNOW that.”

Hope’s face is clearly relieved. She knows he’s here. She just needed confirmation. After the traumatic events of the previous weeks, she didn’t trust herself. Now she can. She got third party validation – from someone not close to the situation. It’s not her wishful thinking. It just is.

“You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Hope gives me a big hug and thanks me. Surprisingly composed, she’s not emotional as much as in a state of recognition as to why she not grieving as she “should”. It’s not because there’s some lack of emotional sensitivity on her part, but because she is VERY sensitive to the fact her husband is with her. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone. He’s not.

I tell Hope the message.
“Hank wants you to know he’s having so much fun being with you and your family. He’s finally free to enjoy this family time now. He wasn’t before with his disease. It was so frustrating for him. Upsetting. His death gave him freedom. I get the word FREEDOM. I’m being told that’s an important word.”

Hope says quietly, “That’s my word too. I am feeling so free after such a hard time. Two years of intense 24/7 care. I told Hank as he was going into a coma, ‘I’m so sorry I have been so bitchy’. I guess I’m feeling guilty for feeling free.”

I say, “So I guess the word FREEDOM is meant for both of you. You are both free now. FREEDOM is good – for both of you.”

Louise joins our private conversation.
Hope tells her I’m clairvoyant and I see Hank. Louise is unfazed. She tells me how she totally believes in reincarnation, that she and William talk to her father all the time.

We get into the details. I fill them in on what I am picking up. Hank’s energy is very light – as though he has passed over. But he’s not. I’ve been told he’s not passed over. And he’s not talking – at least I cannot hear him – so that’s my own indication he’s hanging in the astral plane. But I’m told it is not a problem. He is infinitely protected. He has no problems being in the astral plane.

Having explained how there can be some n’er-do-wells stuck the astral plane, Louise says, “It sounds just like Dad. Dad’s probably set up shop, sitting in a corner, quietly counseling people. He’ll help them on their way.” Hope agrees.

I ask Mother and Daughter, “Who is Charles?”

They don’t know of a Charles.

I think out loud, “Maybe it’s a friend who died? Or it’s a deceased relative? A spirit guide? It’s not clear to me. I’m told you will know. Think about it. Maybe it will come to you later.” I let it go.

Hope asks me how I see the messages.
I explain a little bit about the various ways I receive messages: seeing pictures or movies, hearing words in my left ear, sometimes without a voice – telepathic words just drop into my head – or it’s a feeling in my body, or just downloads of data that fall into my brain. Or a combination thereof. When people come in I feel a change in the pressure in the room, or feel as though someone is watching me, or perhaps I see a translucent oily smudge in mid air – like a watery thermocline, or a desert mirage.

Some times the person comes in very clearly in my mind’s eye – my third eye – or they appear to me physically like a normal person on this side – until I notice they are a bit ‘see-through’. Other times it’s a faint representation of a person on the screen in my head. I can tell if it’s male or female, their approximate age, a few identifying details, how they relate to the person on this side, but not much more. I need to be able to read more energy to get the details: I can read it off the person they are connected to on this side. I normally ask for permission. Otherwise it’s none of my business. I don’t randomly read people. It’s unethical. Not good form.

The air is growing chilly.
Even with the night lighting along the beach it’s getting really dark. More importantly, Matilda has stripped off three layers of clothing and is now lolling around in the surf stark naked. Someone finds a big beach towel that we wrap around her, and hubby takes the girls in to the casita to warm up and re-cloth.

I now have the chance to continue to talk to Hope and Louise without one eye and one ear trained on the girls. All of a sudden, Louise blurts out, “Can the Charles be someone from this side?” Before I can reply, Louise says excitedly, “Mom – Charlie!!!” She turns back to me and explains, “Could Charlie be ‘the Charles’? He’s like my brother. He’s an old friend of the family, and he astral travels all the time. He’s been doing it for years! Why didn’t we think of this before?”

I say, “I was told you would know. That makes sense. That could very well be him. When you see him, ask Charlie if he visits your Dad.”

Hope laughs. She thinks it’s all great. As we get ready to leave the beach, Hope again says, “Thank you so much.”

I tell her, “Thank you. This really helps me too. It gives me more trust in the process. There’s always something new. It can be hard to trust when I don’t know where something is going. It’s not about confidence in myself, but being confident to trust the guidance from Spirit.”

I explain where my head was at the beginning of the trip.
My download in the shower to tell Hope about her husband had really tested me. How I had to get my mind around going up to complete strangers to tell them that their deceased relative was happy and hanging around them.

Hope and Louise laugh. They think it’s pretty funny. Hope acknowledges my socially awkward predicament, “Oh my. What a time you’ve had!”

Hope pauses, “What happens next for Hank?”

“Well, as far as I know, he’s going to hang around you, Hope, until you are both ready. Then he’ll go to “school”.

“They say school?” Hope asks.

“Well – that’s what I say – for lack of a better descriptor. Hank crosses over into the light and part of the process is to completely release his earthbound ego, review his lessons learned on earth and create his plan for the next part in his journey. He’ll be available to you then – but his presence will be even lighter than it is now.”

Louise chimes in, “But Dad had very little ego?”

“I know. His energy is so light. When I first saw him in the casita, I could tell he was not passed over yet his energy felt so light. When someone hasn’t passed over, their energy normally feels much heavier. The heaviness is their ego.” I file this knowledge away. In this test, I’ve learned how light a person’s energy can feel even if they remain in the astral plan.

When I get back to the casita, I corner my Mom.
“I can’t believe it! You were so worried about me having to say something, and YOU end up saying it!”

Mom tries to explain her unusually outspoken behavior. “Well… I was listening to Hope’s story. And this poor woman. She told me she felt her husband very close. And her friends were not being supportive of her decision to come back to finish her vacation. She was being vilified by her own friends for behaving “inappropriately”. And how could she even pretend when she can feel her husband right here? I had to help her!”

I laugh. “Remember? Last Sunday night? I kidded with you – that it might even be you that says something!?”

Mom had forgotten that detail.

Next day our little family heads over to Hope’s casita to say goodbye. Louise and Bill are there with William. Hope comes into the casita’s garden while we’re saying our final goodbyes. She’s been saying goodbye to other friends staying at the casitas.

Hank follows behind Hope.
I think to myself, ‘Should I say anything to her about Hank being here?’ The timing often seems too perfect when loved ones appear. I tend to hold back on what I actually experience going on. People might not believe me.

I wait. Hope walks by me into the Casita and Hank passes by my right side. I feel his energy like a faint puff of air. Hope turns and thanks me again.

“Tell me. How does Hank look? Is he okay?” Hope is asking hesitantly.

I laugh, “He’s great! He’s healthy!” I blurt, “In fact, he is right here.” I point to where his energy is. He’s now standing behind her left shoulder. “He has his arm around you. He’s smiling.”

Hope grins, “He was always standing behind me with his arm around me. In almost every photo we have of us, that’s where he is.”

I reply, “Well he’s going home with you. He’s with you for a while.”

Hope thanks me again, and we share another big hug. “You have no idea how much this means to me. This has made my holiday.”

Mine too.  Mission Completa.  Mission Accomplished.

- With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.
(c) 2010, 2011, 2012 The Accidental Medium. UltraMarine Media Inc. All Rights Reserved.

To Our Readers:
This is the continuing email conversation about Ghosts between my old friend McFly and I to help him with his Ghost Tours of New Orleans.  Here are Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5.

Dear Tida –
You mentioned that some ghosts are not ghosts but something else – waz up wit dat?
McFly

Okay, McFly  – Regarding your recent email, I will elucidate on another twist in the paranormal experience – we have a thing called imprints.  So I am turning your inquiry above into question #6.  Here goes…

#6   What are Psychic Imprints?
Some sightings of so-called ghosts are really imprints left behind by a person or persons’ actual passing.  An imprint is the energetic “residue” left at the scene by a past event. An imprint is like a movie being played over and over again in the same space. Imprints are typically found at battlefields and other places of great trauma, or upset but not always.  It is surmised that there is a certain percentage of ghost hauntings that are actually imprints.

Imprint or Ghost?
It can be very difficult at times to distinguish between a psychic imprint and a true ghost sighting since both appear very real. If an imprint is seen as a movie reflecting a past event, while a true ghost encounter is a “live” event happening in the now.  True ghosts typically move around (although they may appear only in certain rooms) and they are capable of interacting with their environment, so different observers will have varying experiences with them. Imprints are always identical regardless of who is observing them. When there are variations in detail from observer to observer, it’s a ghost but when the event never varies even with different observers, it is probably an imprint.

I have had experiences with both and the imprint lacks the energetic frequency of a specific person’s ego, but it can still be disconcerting because it is typically “feels” very heavy and unsettling. There is discomforting energy in the atmosphere where the trauma occurred that we can sense.  For me, the way to tell if it is a ghost or not is whether or not there is interaction.

Case in point: The imprint that “slit” my throat
I regularly experience an imprint on our country road – there is a stretch of road that feels so heavy that I get a “punch” in my solar plexus every time I drive through it.  Definitely some upsetting event occurred along that stretch of road, but I don’t know what. I’ve never seen a ghost or anything weird happening, or had any visions of what may have happened, or been told by my guides that there is a present problem there: For these reasons I believe there is an imprint of energy there from a past event.

One night I was driving home from a school event at another parent’s house, and a man started kicking the back of my seat.  I ignored him, hoping he’d go away.   This man definitely wanted my attention so he reached over the back of the drivers seat and he had a “small knife” in his hand and it looked like he was trying to slit my throat.

I KNOW that a ghost can’t slit your throat with a ghost knife –
So I managed to calm down enough to realize that the man was trying to show me what had happened to him – how someone had slit HIS throat.  He was just using me as a demo. It was still a bit too freakish for me.  My next thought was, “OH NO! Am I going to bring this one home TOOOOO??????”

I stopped the car on the pitch dark road, jumped out, threw open the back door behind me and screamed at the guy to GET THE F~*K OUT OF HERE!!!!  No uncertain terms. I called in my guides and angels and he got the message. He didn’t come home.

I called an intuitive counselor friend who told me it was an imprint –
That “something” that I regularly felt on that stretch of road had finally become clear.  Although I trusted her knowledge  of such things, this explanation didn’t sit right:  The “something” hadn’t become clear so much as manifested and interacted with me.  In my experience, when it looks like a ghost, feels like a ghost and acts like a ghost – it’s probably a ghost.

I retraced my steps in my head and knew the man had followed me out of that house and had been with me on the drive all the way to what I now call “screeching halt hill” – where I subsequently kicked him out of the car.  As time went on, and as I learned more about how ghosts manifest I believe that the ghost was using the energy of the imprint to come through and tell me why he was there.

I got to know Eve, the lady-of-the-house where the ghost lived.
I later met her husband, who looked shockingly similar to the man I’d met in my car.  Eve and I became close friends, and I learned that her family was dealing with visits from the other side, that they were all in various stages of opening up intuitively. It ran in their family. During one of our conversations I let it slip that I thought I may have been followed home from Eve’s house by a man who looked a lot like her husband.  (At the time, I still wasn’t sure if it was a ghost or an imprint).

Without missing a beat, Eve said – “Oh that must be Gerry – my father-in-law. He came into my bedroom when we were visiting my mother-in-law – when my son was just a baby. I thought at first it was my husband standing there, but then he didn’t answer, and then I realized I could see through him…”

Eve’s husband later added that his father had a difficult passing.
Two weeks before Gerry died doctors performed what sounded like a botched tracheotomy.  Gerry couldn’t speak the last days of his life.  It was very disconcerting for him because Gerry had a lot to say to his family.  Gerry could tell that I could see him, (my energy frequency tells ghosts and spirits I can sense them) so he followed me home.

Gerry had used the energy of the imprint to come through clearly, and show me how his throat had been cut.  It was a way of telling me who he was and why he couldn’t talk to me. Later I discovered he had followed me home because he had messages to pass on to his family that he couldn’t deliver because he cannot talk – or at least in his reality.  And his family didn’t realize he was there. This is the kind of stuff you don’t read in typical ghost stories.

Battlefield Imprint
As for my experience with imprints they haven’t been movies for me but a feeling – like that stretch of our road. If the imprint is strong, it’s like a sound track that plays in my head. On a number of occasions I’ve driven along a stretch of highway through central Oregon.  All of a sudden, I would feel sick and anxious for no reason. At one point, I could hear screaming, guns going off. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t know what was going on because I didn’t know about imprints at the time. Later I learned that the highway went through a famous battle site and the stretch of road held a well-known imprint.

Country Living Imprint
On another occasion, I was visiting a large antique store that had an excellent collection of antiques arranged by themes in different rooms. I was exploring one room but heard sounds coming from the next room: a screen door slamming shut, the sound of children laughing, a hand mixer beating something in a bowl, women chatting, glasses clinking. I walked into the next room to see what was going on, and saw a large wall of shelves filled with antique kitchen implements, butter churns, pottery mixing bowls, cast iron pans and maple sugar moulds. The entire wall resonated with country life of long ago.  I imagine that many of the items came from the same farmhouse.

In writing this, I realize that my clairaudience seems to pick up imprints but my clairvoyance taps into ghosts. Interesting. Who knew?

So there you have it: Psychic Imprints 101 : )  What else do you want to know, McFly? Happy to give you my two cents… (Final Part 7 – Ouija Boards and Protection).

Tida (a.k.a The Accidental Medium)

— With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.
(c) 2010, 2011, 2012 The Accidental Medium. UltraMarine Media Inc. All Rights Reserved.

To Our Readers:
This is the continuing email conversation about Ghosts between my old friend McFly and I to help him with his Ghost Tours of New Orleans. Here are Part 1 and Part 2.

Dear McFly,
I trust that you’ve consumed and integrated Manifestations 101.  Now I can explain some of the more unsettling stuff, some of which happens to people with a bit more developed sixth sense.   So let’s continue on with this question:

#3.  How do ghosts manifest themselves?

Ghosts can make things go bump (scrape, rattle, creak) in the night.
There are many noises that ghosts typically make. Footsteps are common, as are doors slamming, floorboards groaning, dishes rattling, pictures falling off walls, chairs creaking like someone is sitting in them.  Then there are the items they actually move to make a noise – like window blinds flying up (thwwwappp!), rockers rocking.  Those are just some of the more classic experiences. To make a noise a ghost has to learn how to manipulate energy but it’s not easy, so each ghost seems to stick to a small bag of “tricks” they do well to grab your attention.  Often it’s something they’ve always done when they were alive.

A new trick.
Just the other night I was lying awake at 3 a.m. looking at the full moon streaming in and suddenly heard a loud grating sound of something scraping along the kitchen floor.  I jumped out of bed and zipped into the kitchen to see if the dog was into something. Freddie was sleeping peacefully on his pillow. The cats were sequestered and snoozing outside on the porch.  But the metal cover on the air vent by the dining room table had been pulled out of its hole in the floor and had been dragged two feet away – hence the grating sound on the tile floor.  Hubby was snoring. Kids were asleep. Pets accounted for. We don’t have mice or other rodents in the house.  My Mom was in the guest bedroom and she too heard the racket.  This is a new trick for our house – Maybe a new ghost? I’ll keep you posted.

Ghosts like knocking.
My first visit to the Queen Mary, I was in my cabin, standing right in front of the cabin door when somebody knocked. I was close enough to look immediately out through the peephole. Nobody. I opened the door and walked down the short corridor to the main passageway and there was nobody.  This has happened a few times while staying on the Queen Mary. It’s an old ship so knocking sounds can be chalked up to a creaky old ocean liner. But considering the ship’s haunted reputation, and combined with all the other incidences that I experienced, it was probably a ghost.

Some Ghosts can Speak.
Ghosts can speak audibly so that an average person can physically hear them – and I believe this feat is accomplished by those who have been a ghost for quite some time, certainly long enough to develop this advanced skill.  When Kate was a baby, I heard the grandmotherly patter of a woman talking to Kate in Kate’s room.  Since I am clairaudient, I thought I was the only one who could hear this.  But my darling hubby, supposedly fast asleep, whipped the covers over his head and whispered loudly. “DID YOU HEAR THAAAATTT?????”  It turned out to be his Mom – she had not crossed over.

Lost Ghosts.
Beatrice, the little girl attached to the antique carousel horse we’d acquired, would cry out “Mommy!!!” in the middle of the night, right in front of me, in the dark. It was a little unnerving, but I realized she was a lost and lonely child who was just looking for her Mom.  (I really must post this story of Beatrice and the carousel horse).

Party Ghosts.
I have also heard ghosts partying – people laughing, glasses clinking, orchestra music playing and people talking. These “scenes” can be ghosts OR they can be imprints from the past and not ghosts… but that’s another story for another email.

If you are somewhat sensitive to the energy of others…
You may feel a ghost’s presence in a room – just like when you walk into your house and you get the feeling you are not alone, that another family member is present somewhere.  Ghosts still have their egos so it’s much easier to feel their energy – it’s not too different from our pwn.

The air feels different.
You may feel a change in air pressure. The room might feel heavy.  You might feel like you need air: It reminds me of some people I know, who walk into a room and suck the air out of it: They take up way more space than their actual size.  Ghosts can have this effect too. There may be a change in temperature – the room gets colder. Or you may feel a cool breeze, yet no window is open, no fan is on.

The hair on the back of you neck may stand up.
Ghosts tend to stand in your personal energy field – your aura – so you feel crowded but nobody is there, at least nobody you can see.  You may get strange tingles, not warm fuzzies, but more like a very mild electric shock.  Not to be confused with paranoia, but you may get an unnerving feeling that someone is watching you.  You may feel slightly or very claustrophobic.

You may get a sense of unease or one of peace.

• Unease is typical if you don’t know the person or they are indeed trying to scare you.  But what’s more likely is your being scared of the unknown while playing with the possibility that you are imagining things or going a little bonkers.
• Peaceful feelings are typical if you are open to the whole aspect of life being much bigger than what you can physically see and are excited about the adventure,  and more so if you are getting the distinct feeling that it’s someone you know who you love.
• If you are sensitive to the energy of emotion, you may even feel the waves of love if someone who loves you is standing by you.

Let’s Talk About Clairsentience.
What we’ve been talking about above – this sensitivity to the emotionally charged energy from others and in the environment – is part of clairsentience. Clairsentience is the ability to feel the emotions and/or physical pain of others.  I read somewhere that about 70% of the population has some clairsentient abilities.  I don’t know how that number was arrived at, but it’s probably fairly accurate. Case in point: I bet you’ve walked into what sounded like a calm room but immediately sensed that all was not well  – that an altercation is taking place.  Most of us can sense emotional discord charging a space.  It feels uncomfortable – it doesn’t match our own energy.

If your clairsentient abilities have developed more significantly you may not only feel the presence of a ghost, and gauge their emotion but you may also feel the way in which they died in your own body.  When I first met Lady Camille, a ghost who was a repeat visitor to the side of Matilda’s crib, her presence made my throat go dry and I felt like gagging, and then I got racing heart palpitations.  I found out later Lady Camille had stopped eating and died 10 days later of heart failure.  (Another story to share on AM.)

You may also feel them touch you.
This was my ultimate worst fear, but when it finally happened, it was not a big deal at all.  I had just finished up presenting a daylong seminar onboard the Queen Mary and was ready to decompress.  I joined friends at a table at the patio bar on the bow of the Queen Mary.

While chatting and waiting to place my drink order, I felt a strong TAP TAP TAP  on the shoulder.  At first I thought it was the server trying to get my attention, or perhaps one of my tablemates. I turned and seeing nobody, turned to the side. Nobody. Was someone playing a trick on me?  You know the one where someone sneaks up beside you but taps your opposite shoulder so when you turn to that side and see nobody, it freaks you out??

Well. nobody was there on either shoulder, and there was nobody close enough that could have tapped me on the shoulder either.  My table mates were seated too far away, and there was nobody seated or walking anywhere near the vicinity of my table.  I sat there with a stunned look on my face. Eventually the ghost revealed himself. A young man dressed in a sailor’s uniform circa WWII stood to one side and waved at me.  Harmless stuff. He was just happy I could see him.

There are ghosts who try to scare or threaten.
These are the lowlifes who just enjoy hanging out with fellow lowlifes.  They scared and threatened people during their lifetime and they keep doing it as a ghost. They get a charge out of it, just as they did in life.  To really stir things up in the physical world, these ghosts need a lot of energy. Where do they get it? Primarily by feeding off the energy you give off in the form of fear. So. The more afraid you are, the more energy you are potentially supplying the ghost who’ll give it right back at ya. You actually create a vicious circle where your own fear will create more fear in you. Therefore, it is essential to NOT be scared when you are in the presence of ghosts.

I know what you’re saying…
“grrrrreaaaat. And how do I do that?”  The key thing to remember – and hardwire this next sentence into your brain circuitry: “WE have control on this side, not ghosts.” Got that? We are in the driver’s seat. Ghosts can cause disturbances but in my experience they can’t actually “do” anything – especially if we aren’t fanning the flames with our own fear.  I’ll talk more about this when we get into psychic protection.

What about those stories of people being killed by ghosts?
Fictional murderous ghost stories aside, I’ve heard stories of real people who’ve had heart attacks or committed suicide from encounters with ghosts.  In my view, that is really their own inability to handle their fear.  The ghost didn’t “do” them in. The person went into fight or flight mode, a knee-jerk reaction into fear.  No thinking 0r choice was involved.  Their reptilian brain took control and they literally scared themselves to death.  Those that differ with my view, believing that ghosts can inflict physical harm of their own accord, may have had bad things happen so their perspective is very different than mine.

I believe perspective is everything.
We really do create our own reality.  People who have a positive outlook about themselves and other people, and view the world as an essentially good place will likely find the good in an unsettling ghost encounter.  These people may generally attract more upbeat ghosts because of their positive energy.  Other people who see the world as a battle between good and evil, who feel under siege in an inherently dangerous place will probably have a very different reaction to a bully ghost.  Their fearful energy may play a part in attracting the nasty ghost encounters.  Key take-away here: Try to remain calm – Be aware that we have control if we choose to exercise it.

Let’s think happy thoughts.
On the upside, encounters with ghosts can force people to come to grips with their own eternal souls. Many people open up spiritually. A ghost encounter is actually a gift…

But how do the “happy” ghosts keep their energy fed?  I’ve felt ghosts seemingly feed off the energy of nature – trees, water and sun.  For others, it’s their innate energy field feeding off the energy of love and connection.

Hubby’s Mom was in ghost form for years-
She is a loving soul, not a tormented one. Adeline knew where she was, and made it clear she was not going to the light. A very sweet lady, she remained insistent that she had to get through to her son. Adeline had died of a stroke – and when she made concerted attempts to get her son’s attention, (I could feel the energy build – like air pressure being pumped up the room and knew she was coming in) Hubby was usually trying to fall asleep. But he would pick up on her energy and get a splitting migraine. Near the end, I had a very stern chat with her about giving her son a crazy headache.  She apologized – but she still wouldn’t tell me what it was about – this was obviously a private mother-son talk.  Maybe she was trying to tell him to take better care of himself?  Quite possibly but there seemed more to it than that.

Adeline has finally gone to the light.
And while Hubby gets headaches they are nowhere near the intensity they were when she was around.  His best friend Sharon has taken Adeline’s place, now watching over her “baby brother” as Sharon used to call him.  I believe Sharon negotiated the passing of the baton and got Adeline to cross over.  I would love to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation! As on earth, Sharon’s straightforward nature comes out with wise and entertaining messages. But as she is Spirit, she’s very calm, patient, doesn’t insist on anything (although she might nudge), and only weighs in when Hubby asks.  Hubby feels her around him regularly.  While Adeline and Sharon are both loving supporters, their energies played out very differently, since one was a ghost, and one was in Spirit from a higher plane.

Sometimes a ghost will choose to reveal himself.
They can choose to be in “human” form or an orb (as I mentioned in the last post).  But first they need to know how to handle their energy to show themselves physically in our lower vibrating world.  It takes a little bit of doing. You don’t need to be clairvoyant to see a ghost. You just need to be sensitive enough to pick up on their energy – and they have to be open to revealing their existence. Ghosts can hide if they want to – or choose to reveal their physical existence.

Energy, baby. It’s all about the energy. (Next up Part 4 – What We Can Learn)

Hugs,
Tida

— With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.
(c) 2010, 2011, 2012 The Accidental Medium. UltraMarine Media Inc. All Rights Reserved.