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.

Anthony’s Message was written for the family of Anthony McColl about three months after the accident that took the life of a vibrant 19 year old young man.  Anthony was – and still is – the son of dear family friends.

This story was my attempt to recount our own experience in the wake of the possibly avoidable death of Anthony – to offer some peace, reassurance and a life altering perspective on this tragic incident.

A year later, this story was published in the book A Father’s Tears by David McColl, Anthony’s father.   If you have lost a child, or are supporting someone who has lost a child, I highly recommend reading A Father’s Tears.

The recent tragedy in Newtown CT compelled me to publish Anthony’s Message here.  The loss of a child is unthinkable. But when we are forced to think about it, let alone experience it, we may leave ourselves open to a spiritual awakening.

I hope that Anthony’s message will give people hope that life is not what it seems, that there is a higher perspective – an expansive view of life being lived on a continuum. We never lose those we love. They are with us, and here to support us on our earthly journey.  This is the first of three installments. Please read on…

“Mommy!!! Wake up! Wake Up!”
Matilda is sitting straight up in bed in the darkened room. She’s got both hands on my bare left arm, yanking me from a deep sleep.  Kate, Matilda and I are supposed to be in the middle of a Friday night sleepover at Mom’s condo. Matilda and I are bunking in Mom’s room.  We all went to bed late.  It’s now well past midnight, the exact time unsure.  This is too soon to wake up.

I’m barely conscious. “what’s the matter, Mattie?” I murmur.

Matilda is talking in a stage whisper. “Mommy. I’m scared… There’s somebody here. They’re here on my side. I don’t know who it is. Can we change sides? Please? I’m scared…”

“o.k.” I sigh as I slide towards her, pull her up and over me and settle her on the other side of the bed.  I scoot over to Matilda’s well-warmed spot.  I find her soft white blankie and her dog-eared bunny toy nestled there.  I snuggle them down beside Matilda who is now almost back to sleep, then roll over on my side to get more shuteye.

But I can’t.

There’s definitely somebody here.
I stop trying to sleep and try to discern the subtle but pressing energy.  It feels like a male presence.  It’s moving around this corner of the room.  A paper rustles, something softly scuffs a surface.  He’s by the bed again – it’s a calm gentle energy.  It could be my Dad, or my grandfather or …?  The usual suspects would normally let me know exactly who they are. And there are a few others who tend to wake us up at night.  Who is it?

But it’s weird.  Nighttime visitations have never happened at Mom’s condo. Whoever it is,  is not making himself known.  I know I’ll find out soon enough if it’s important.  I try again to settle down to sleep. I can’t.  I wonder what he needs?

Sunlight is leaking around the edges of the drapes when Kate and Mom tiptoe into the room. Matilda is snoring softly on her side of the bed as I whisper to Mom that Matilda didn’t sleep well. We need to let her sleep in. Someone woke her up. Someone has definitely been in the room.  It felt like it was a male.  Mom whispers she’s not slept well either. Kate was very restless, flopping around like a fish out of water. We both agree. Something’s “up”.

Bleary-eyed with coffee in hand.
Mom and I try to revive ourselves in the living room.  As I gradually perk up I think more about last night. Very strange. Matilda would normally tell me to get rid of the unknown visitor  – tell them to go away.  People she doesn’t know she calls “monsters” – I guess because she’s scared, they don’t come in clearly enough to be seen.   I’d say the usual: ‘Thanks but no thanks. We can’t help you now.  Please go.’ They usually do.

During these situations, Matilda always asks me to call in Grampa Grant to watch over us to make sure nobody will bug us.  But last night I didn’t do any of this. Did Matilda feel this person was meant to be with us?  I guess I may have felt that too. At least it never occurred to me to ask them to leave.  The energy was somehow familiar.

With Matilda now up and both girls busy munching on breakfast, I slip into Mom’s bathroom for a quick shower. I’m not fully positioned under the showerhead when I hear the matter-of-fact statement in my head, “ “Someone close to you has died.”

“Whaaat?” I say back, incredulous. This is awful.  My mind whips into worst-case-scenario. Oh God, I hope it’s not my husband. He’s in the air right now on his way here, to be with his family. It’s a stormy morning, with high winds.

I’m given no more details.
But when I get out of the shower, I hear the phone ring.  The voice in my head says softly, calmly, unemotionally, “Here we go…”  I peek out the bathroom door and Mom is in the bedroom, portable phone to her ear, tears streaming down her face. “You better talk to your sister…” she says into the phone.

It’s my brother Andy.  Andy is in charge of calling people. We’re his first call. He can hardly talk. Brief details. Anthony was in a fatal car accident early this morning.  I get hit by a wave of grief.  Anthony is such a great kid.  Everybody loves Anthony. This is devastating. Oh God. Poor Monica and Rufus.  As parents, it’s their worst fear realized. This shouldn’t be happening. It’s not right.

Then a thought bubbles up.  Could it be Anthony who visited last night?  What time was the crash?  What time did Matilda wake me up?  Around 3 a.m. I’d guess. Matilda doesn’t really know Anthony. She was a baby the last time his family visited us at the lake. Whoever it was seemed to be attracted to her.

I’m packing up our sleepover bags.  The girls are readying their gear to load the car, then pick up their Dad at the airport.

A voice in my head says. “He’s with his grandmother. He’s crossed over. It was instant.”

I don’t know if this is wishful thinking or if it’s a clear message. I let it rest.

Hubbie is home safe. 
We’re now in our kitchen at the lake, making platters for the appetizer table at the annual fundraising event for Matilda’s co-op preschool – it’s happening tomorrow.  Kate has helped us finish filling spring rolls and now we’re busily rolling sushi.  For no apparent reason I look up and stare at the stacked ovens.  Why am I looking there?  We’re not using the ovens.

A male is standing there facing me.  He’s a big guy, he’s young. Dark wavy hair falls in front of his face.  It’s not the first time I’ve had Spirit visitors beside my ovens.  All the electricity – it’s a magnet. Spirits often use the energy that charges big appliances to come through to this side.  My fridge has the same power, and the same effect.

Is that Anthony?? I’m not sure. He’s faint. He comes in and out – at least it seems that way.   I sigh. I don’t enjoy this space – not knowing whether it’s wishful thinking, my imagination or a real visit. But I’ve learned what to do. I push away the vision.  If it goes away, it’s wishful thinking. If the vision comes back again, gets stronger with more details, if we interact, it’s the real deal.

We continue our veggie sushi marathon. I look up from my sushi mat, frustrated with an inside-out roll that’s not working for me, to find the young man standing by the ovens but this time with an older woman beside him.  I think it’s his grandmother.  They aren’t talking, just calmly surveying the scene. I acknowledge their presence.  They disappear.  I’m feeling it’s Anthony but my ego needs more proof. I don’t say anything to my husband.

It’s late.
The girls are now in bed and I’m in my upstairs bathroom – my channeling room – brushing my teeth, washing my face.  A subtle presence comes in.  I say, “Anthony, if this is you, I will help you get any messages to your family. I promise.”  There’s no answer.

I don’t sleep well. None of us do. Kate wakes up. “Daddy!”  She’s had a bad dream and can’t get back to sleep.  Her Dad goes down to Kate’s room to settle her down.  I hear her cry out every time he tries to leave. He stays with her.

It’s Matilda’s turn. “Mommy!” Matilda often wakes up in the middle of the night. She gets up by herself to pee, read her picture books, chat with unseen friends, sing pre-school songs, recite newly learned rhymes.  She only calls out if she’s sick, she’s wet the bed, she’s hungry.  Or, if there’s a visitor.

I stumble down the stairs. “Mommy!” Matilda is crying now as I walk into her room. “There’s somebody here!”  Matilda pleads.

“It’s okay, Honey. It’s okay. It’s just Anthony. He’s our friend. He’s visiting.  He’s a good guy.  We love Anthony. Time to go back to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Matilda seems reassured.  “o.k…  Can you stay with me ‘til when the sun comes?” Matilda mumbles from under the covers.

I agree, crawling into the spare bed.

I dream that Dad is standing by my bed.
He tells me in my sleep, “Anthony and Matilda have the same kind of energy.”

In the morning we are scrambling to get ready for church. I’m back in my bathroom, finished my hair and now doing my face. My Dad, now in Spirit for more than 15 years, is in his usual spot, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“Dad? Why Anthony?”

Dad answers back immediately, “Soon you’ll understand.”

I reach into my walk-in closet and dig out some pant stockings from a drawer.

Dad adds, “You’ll say his name in church today.”

ugghh.  I know what this is. It’s a test from Spirit.

Dad knows I like to lie low in the pew. 
I go to church, but as an outlier in the protestant religion, I feel it’s not my place to speak up in church:  I feel I’m in no position since I don’t subscribe to some of its fundamental tenets.  Case in point:  I have not accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior, yet this is a cornerstone of our religion.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m a firm believer in what Jesus stood for, his lessons, his compassionate role model, and I am in awe of Christ consciousness that manifests every day, in warm gestures, in respectful responses, in thoughtful deeds, showing how we are all connected.  The Dalai Lama sums up Christ consciousness by saying, “My religion is kindness”.  I subscribe to that. So I go to church.

Dad’s request refers to a quiet portion during the service where churchgoers are encouraged to speak the names of people who are in their thoughts this week.  Gisele, our Minister, then leads the congregation through a spontaneous community prayer that includes the names of these people. It’s an unrehearsed moment where everyone seems to connect.

I make a feeble attempt to lessen my potential involvement at church this morning. “Dad, You know I don’t DO that…”

Dad looks at me and waits.

“But…,”I’m thinking out loud. “I guess if there was a time to speak up, it would be today, after what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it, Putty,” encourages Dad in my left ear.  “It will all work out.”

(Putty is my nickname – because I tend to be on the go, doing something, thinking about something, working on something. Dad used to say I was always putt-putting around. )

I don’t know how this is going to play out. Maybe I will say something. Maybe I won’t need to. I have to wait and see. And trust that soon I’ll understand…

- With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.

(Story to be continued in Anthony’s Message – Part 2.)

 

(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 the links to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.

Okay McFly,
Your next question about ghosts is not as straight forward to answer, but I can give you a few more interesting ghostly details… Some of this information may sound a little repetitive but my point here is that ghosts really are people too.

# 5. What are Ghosts trying to learn from us–if anything?
I don’t know if any ghosts are actually trying to “learn” from us as much as perhaps get our attention.  So the more precise question might be “What do ghosts want from us?”

Ghosts have many of the same concerns we have…
to be heard, to be understood, to be acknowledged, get a message across, to make amends, to show us how much they love us, to ask for help.  Others like to stir things up – and enjoy our fearful reaction. As I mentioned, these darker ghosts want to feed off our fearful energy.  In life they only knew how to get negative attention, and get what they wanted by acting out, behaving badly.  And so it goes after death. The dark ghosts sh-t disturb.

Every Ghost is different.
Just like us, each ghost is an individual:  Different personalities, different levels of awareness, and different ways of communicating. If you can shift your perspective to a place where you can accept that ghosts are really just like us here on earth, ghosts lose their scary qualities.  But if you choose to be freaked out by ghosts, it won’t really matter to you whether or not they are “good” or “bad” – they’ll all seem bad to you.  Yes, there are unhappy ghosts who behave badly just like there are people on this side who are unhappy who behave badly. But the world is essentially a good place.

If a Ghost wants our attention…
And can feel that we can sense them, they will do their best to let us know they are present.  We all have different levels of awareness and acceptance of ghosts, so how a ghost appears or behaves in front of one person may have little or no impact on another, less aware person.

Ghosts often create a physical disturbance to get our attention – we discussed these manifestations at some length – but if we ignore that disturbance, they will ratchet things up a bit until we do acknowledge their presence.  This ratcheting up of their presence can be scary, even if it’s a happy ghost.

When I’ve refused to acknowledge that subtle experiences were actually ghost work, I’ve had blinds flying up in the middle of the night and my rocking chair rocking on it’s own accord.  Suffice to say, when I finally acknowledged their presence, things calmed down.

For those Ghosts with a message –
Their message might be “Do not follow my path” – i.e. don’t do what they did. Some are trying to get us to move forward with our lives.  Their message might be “Don’t let grief stop you from your own life path.” Or maybe the message is “Let go of grudges against loved ones here on earth” or even a grudge held against the ghost himself.  They may want us to be aware of and let go of beliefs that aren’t true that block our true selves:

Ghosts want us to heal with the truth.
A big reason for a loving ghost to get our attention is based on the need to mend rifts in relationships. The ghost may have died during a time of major family upheaval and feel they cannot leave until the division has been healed.  I believe that one of the reasons my mother-in-law wouldn’t leave was due to her traumatic departure – she was relatively young, when out of the blue she had a massive stroke.  Her sons blamed their father for not making the emergency call quickly enough, and not getting her to the hospital on time to save her life. They held their father responsible for her death, but the truth is it was her time. The boys needed to stop blaming their father and heal their personal relationships with their Dad.

Some Ghosts are full of apologies.
Ghosts who perceive themselves to have behaved badly in life may stay to make amends.  Full of guilt or shame, they may be trying to tell us something they feel “guilty” for – and that energy of guilt is so heavy they don’t go to the light.  They stay behind because they don’t feel worthy and may want to confess to ease their burden.  This has been seen to happen with soldiers who have died in combat, who may have believed they’d made a wrong decision on the battlefield and were not able to protect or save the lives of their comrades.

Lady Camille: Overwhelmed by guilt and grief
Lady Camille, a ghost I’ve mentioned before who used to be a regular visitor here, was full of regret. She felt responsible for the death of a loved one.  Her remorse, shame, guilt and grief were so heavy it was “scary”.  She could not leave until I listened to her confession and we worked through the guilt that bound her to this earthly plane. It was a  good lesson for me – Don’t mix up intense emotion with something to be fearful of.

Good Ghosts and Spirits have similarities.
Much of what I am saying about the “good ghosts” for lack of a better descriptor also applies to those Spirits in the higher realms who come in to visit – they also want us to unblock ourselves, let go of false beliefs and follow the path of unconditional love.  Their energy is so much more subtle than that of most ghosts, it’s much more difficult to discern their presence.

Some Ghosts are oblivious to the fact they are dead.
They may get frustrated or down right pissed off that we are ignoring them.  They may be trying to get our attention and be confused if we cannot see them.  Ghosts that need to be heard don’t like being ignored: many we ignore them because we think it’s our imagination playing tricks on us.

The Red-Headed Woman
When Kate was younger, she had a young French woman who kept visiting her bedside to try to talk to Kate.  This tall woman with vibrant red hair refused to talk to me. I was not important. Kate was. She didn’t believe me when I told her she was dead and needed to go to the light. She treated me as though I was crazy, not to be trusted. I gradually learned that she was a friend of Kate’s from a past life who was still stuck in her own reality and couldn’t see that Kate was now a four year old who didn’t understand French.  (I must post the full story!)

Other Ghosts may totally ignore us:
We may feel a ghost but never see them because we aren’t important to them. They may not reveal themselves because they don’t know us or trust us.  Still other ghosts we may see but they ignore us because they are playing out their life in their own time warp, a time when we didn’t exist so we don’t “appear” to them.

The Native Brave
When Kate was a baby, I had repeat visitations from what may have been a native chief who didn’t acknowledge Kate’s or my presence – he would position himself, very straight with head held high, on an old oak chair in Kate’s room, observing an unseen landscape.  It was obvious he was a man of considerable stature in the scheme of things. Our house is new but I later discovered we live on sacred land that natives did not live on, but was a gathering spot for ceremonies almost two centuries ago.

The Goddess Worshiper
When Kate was just three, early one morning Kate cried out. I rushed into her room and she said “Mommy, why did you leave? You were just here!” I wasn’t just there – I was definitely in bed.   But my eyes were drawn towards the door, where I saw the back of a woman floating out. She was about my height, with hair about my length, but she was wearing a long black cloak. She looked straight out of the mid 1800’s.

I have since learned that back then goddess worship was a popular but covert activity around here: The local rural women would gather in secret on full moons – possibly when their men were off camping and fishing.  This information tied in with a very interesting feature on our property that we’ve always wondered about:  Kate’s door faces in the direction of a rock formation up on the side of a hill.  It is man-made (more likely woman made) that looks like a woman reclining. A head, body, arms, legs. It’s remarkable.  Since I was a little girl, Mom and I would decorate our “witch” every summer.

Elucidating the darker side…
In saying all this, I’m sure there are people who still say – “That’s all very well and good, but what about the bad ghosts?” There are negative energies in ghost form that can be troublesome.  There are routines, tools, that I do every day to protect myself from negative energy no matter where it comes from. (More on protection in Part 7).

I have learned to be much more concerned about the negative energies on this side. The reality is, a ghost can do little but frighten you. A person on this side can harass you, hurt you, kill you, make life misery for your family.

Learn the Big Lesson
The underlying big picture lesson here is not to learn how to protect yourself from ghosts, but to clean up your life the less likely you are to get stuck as a ghost.  The more you clear your energy field, heal relationships and clean up your life habits from low vibrational thinking, the less likely you are to attract troublesome ghosts. Finish your unfinished business.

Reading over all that I’ve written thus far,  I’ve eluded to but haven’t really explained about those times when we think we are seeing a ghost but we aren’t and some other things you may want to know about.

Stay tuned… (Part 6 – Psychic Imprints)

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, Part 2, and Part 3 if you haven’t read them yet.

Dearest Mcfly,
Here is some more fertile fodder for your ghost tours…
BTW Just so happens I am doing a ghost busting tomorrow morning in the Village. Possibly, a crusty old man who may not be too keen on kids. There are now two young kids in “his” house.  We shall get to the bottom of it!  : )  Now on to your questions…

4. What can we, the living, learn from the existence of ghosts?

Well, just off the top of my head…

• Life is much bigger than what we can see in 3D.
• There is life after death.
• We are all Spirit.
• Ghosts are people too.
• There is no such thing as coincidence.
• When we die, unfinished business in this life can keep us bound to earth.
• Ghosts give us a first-hand view of history.
• What you resist persists.
• We create our own reality.
• The paranormal is actually normal…

A bit about ghosts…
Unlike our higher Spirit form, ghosts can only be in one place at a time – so ghosts have another similarity to us here on earth. Spirits, on the other hand, can be in several (who knows how many) places at once. Another characteristic we talked about that separates higher Spirits from ghosts, is that ghosts still have their egos very much intact – if they were bullies on this side, well, once a bully always a bully. When we move to our higher Spirit form, our ego falls away.

But here’s the underlying message about ghostly egos:
If you stay in the astral planes as a ghost, you still create your reality just as we do here in the physical world:  Those who had a particular ego on earth will still “be” as they were in the astral planes (nice, happy, sad, disgruntled, victim etc). In Spirit, we only see love.  There are no problems. There is only joy.

Like attracts like, or two sides of the same coin unite.
From what I’ve learned, ghosts with similar energies or co-dependencies will hang out together, just as we do here on earth.  For instance, if you were a drug dealer, thief and/or pimp, you’ll probably be hanging out with other drug dealers, thieves and pimp ghosts.  If you were not able to stand up for yourself on this side and you get stuck in the astral planes, you could be bullied by the bully ghosts, or alternatively find a ghost in shining armor to watch over you.

Ghosts enjoy the freedom after a succumbing to a long illness.
I met a ghost at an old resort we stayed at on a family vacation. This man had been a longtime visitor to the resort – he and his wife rented a cottage for their family to visit every year. But he became seriously ill in his final few years, making those visits very difficult on him and his wife.  He’d died a few weeks before our arrival.

I saw him now hanging out with his family, enjoying his time with them – and the freedom and feeling of ‘wellness” that he had in his current form that he didn’t have while alive and still attached to his disintegrating body.  His wife was very pleased to know she wasn’t going crazy and knew why she was not missing him – since he was right there beside her. (That’s a story I need to post!)

Ghosts attach onto energy that they recognize or died in.
Ghosts tend to stay tied to one place – in a space with energy they are comfortable with.  Places that tend to be haunted are bars (a hot spot for ghosts who had alcohol addictions in life), theaters (oh, the DRAMA), old hotels, old homes, old churches, old cemeteries, old schools, battlefields, antique stores…

Anywhere there has been trauma, drama, a place of past rituals, or places that have been touched by layer upon layer of history, you have the opportunity for ghosts.  Even new buildings can be haunted because of previous incidences that happened on the land the building sits on.

That’s not to say ghosts won’t travel.
They do!  (You won’t read that in most books). Hotels are common places for ghosts  – where people will bring in ghosts that are attached to them, then the ghost may break off because they like the feeling of the new space they are in, or they may attach on to another person they feel more comfortable with. Even airplanes will have their share of ghosts that are attached to people who are traveling.  Anywhere you have a confluence of people you have the opportunity for ghosts.  You could bring one home with you if you are not aware.

If a ghost likes your energy, they can glom onto you and travel with you significant distances. We had a ghost travel with us from the big city, to a friend’s farm to our home in the country – a distance of some 1200 km and 4 days of travel time.  (Yet another story I must post.)

A sailor, a convict or a pirate?
I had a friend who lived in that quirky little group of little Caribbean cottages on the beach. Remember Duppy Walk?  I’d always wondered why they called it Duppy Walk (Duppy is the Jamaican term for ghost. )  My friend’s boyfriend, an electrical engineer, filled me in about the Duppy component:  He’d been walking along that stretch of beach one morning and a jovial black man showed up beside him, smiled at him, and then disappeared.

I was walking along the same stretch of beach one afternoon a year later, and a black man appeared under a nearby grape tree, smiled at me with a big toothy grin, winked at me, and by the time I’d blinked he’d vanished. What stayed with me was his black and white striped shirt.

I thought about this for months, trying to figure out who he was.  And then it dawned on me: Located underwater and about ¼ mile off shore in front of Duppy Walk, are the unmarked remains of those ten tall ships that ran aground on the outside of the reef.  Apparently, it’s also the site of numerous other unknown shipwrecks.

Could this man have been one of the sailors – and from which wreck?  Or maybe he was a former occupant of the local jail that used to be situated in the nearby town at about the same time period?  Or maybe he was just a pirate – it was a hotbed for piracy back then too.  Or maybe he was a merchant sailor off a wreck who later ended up in jail for piracy?  It was one of my earlier encounters with ghosts so I had lots of questions.

Ghosts tend to show themselves to intuitive people.
Some people have developed their psychic abilities and are open to the presence of ghosts, so tend to see them. Other people are just naturally tapped in to the other side whether they want to or not:  These people often aren’t aware that they have open psychic pathways within themselves – like clairvoyance (seeing), clairaudience (hearing), clairsentience (sensing), – so they may attract and interact with ghosts and not even know why this is happening “to them”. They don’t realize that it “is them” – their energetic frequency is a magnet for ghosts.

This is why ghost encounters can force us to open us up to our own spiritual selves and intuitive abilities.  Alternatively, we can let these encounters freak us out so much we try to block off our psychic pathways whether we are aware of them or not.  Blocking these experiences of is not a good idea since one of the natural spiritual laws states “What you resist persists.”

A bit about Ghost Tours
It’s been noted that people who set up ghost tours tend to be more intuitive and have had experiences that they want to share. The other thing is, large ghost tours may cancel out the energy of the ghost. Remember what I said about too many people in a haunted space? It can be difficult to feel the energy of the ghost.

When I went on the ghost tour at the Queen Mary (several years after I’d been having these ghostly experienced during my stays there) I felt NOTHING. but there were 20 people on the tour.  The 1 ½ hour tour produced zero ghostly encounters.  I mentioned to a few of the obviously disappointed tour goers,  “If you really want a guaranteed ghost encounter you should book my room next time!”

McFly, I’ll answer your ghostly question #5 in the next email… (Part 5 What do they want from us?)

Hugs,

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.