Spirits

When we first moved here, quite often I would notice movement and sometimes actual figures in the near periphery of the boxes I was attempting to unpack. I felt no fear of these strange sightings, or powerless...but I remember wondering who they all were. And why were they converging on me?


Most were dressed in old-fashioned clothing...I recall one in particular who wore what appeared to be tan coloured canvas pants, thick brown boots, and a heavy, woollen brown coat.  He was bent under a backpack tied to his back, and he carried a long, wooden stick...I can see him in my mind's eye now, as I write this.


He smiled at me when he appeared, for only a few moments. I smiled back. There seemed to be little else I could do...

But I was left shaking my head in wonder and awe, as his figure disappeared from sight. And eventually, I took the sightings for what they were...a true welcome to a part of the country I had not even visited before.


At the beginning, there was a flurry of sightings.  After a bit, these began to fade and it became rare to catch a glimpse of these amorphous Spirits.

And so I felt perhaps the sightings were over, although I still continued to be conscious there were Spirits about. Even for the Cariboo,where wildlife is abundant, I managed to connect with an amazing number of wild animals.


And quite often, those animals did strange things, things uncharacteristic of a wild animal's behaviour. Each and every occurrence left me awestruck. I noticed my faith...my belief in a Universal connection to all beings...becoming stronger, even more deeply entrenched.


There are signs throughout the property of someone practicing their spirituality. Boulders in certain areas, within well-defined circles of smaller Stones, are palpable in their energy which radiates outward with great warmth towards the receiver.


I have found small Stones placed on stumps or Rocks. I feel, because of their placement, they denote East and West, North and South. Beyond this, what each Stone represents is left to the imagination and sure knowledge.


With the big, tall Fir trees surrounding our home, it feels like a natural cathedral, especially when Sun eases his long fingers into the Forest and caresses each branch...lighting it from within. It is very easy for me to see how there may have been ceremonies, ancient or otherwise, here, then...

I am not the only one, here in this home, who senses other beings. Our two Dogs become strangely cowed when a visitor(s) manifests. I know they see him/her; I have not, so far, other than very early on.


Nate, for example, has his experiences on a certain portion of the deck.  There are times when he will not pass a very innocuous looking few feet, to come towards me. He becomes completely cowed, very anxious and whines desperately, all the while looking towards something in a totally abject way.


Not even a biscuit will make him pass that spot.

Lucky will,  on some mornings when I awake, have anxiety and worry written all over him. On those mornings, Nate will look at me with deep thankfulness the dark night is through.  And after I am up and about, they will settle and sleep for the rest of the day...unusual behaviour in itself.


It is as if they guard us on some nights; I can only imagine who they see...but I can feel leftover energy on those mornings.


The Spirits' energies are benevolent for the most part, but I have sensed there may be some which are not. And these are the ones who will make me smudge later in the day.

And there is a space on this property I do not like. It is dark, dank even on the hottest day. My main impression of it is one of blackness...I barely see the tall, thin Trees which attempt to grow there. For the most part, I avoid it. Better to leave it be.



As time goes by, I hope to have more experiences, here, on this magical Land. Each one is miraculous, each one has its own special blessings.

I am, in particular, looking forward to Hallowe'en, when the veil between planes of existence is thinner than usual. Who will make their energy felt this weekend?



My beliefs are not mainstream. I am grateful for the opportunity to live a life which shows me, on an everyday basis, my practice of spirituality is right for me... and with that, I am the recipient of an inner calm and peace.


For the most part. 


Chasing bad Spirits away from our Dogs can tend to chip away at that peace, a bit!

Spirit's Eve

The veil between Worlds is thin during the days preceding, including and following Halloween.

The boundaries become translucent. Spirits of all kinds wander the Earth, trying once more to experience Life.

Odd dreams have populated my sleep these last few nights, dreams which are disturbing and unexplainable. I catch glimpses of people, here and there, as I work in what will be a garden.

These phantoms...they no longer startle me.  I have accepted their curiosity. And I most often feel approval emanating from them.

But not always. 

I am accustomed to being visited by Spirits. I do not always see them, but the feeling, when they arrive, is unmistakable. The Spirits who visit most often...close family and friends...have a familiar energy.  I welcome those energies, which sometimes coalesce into a vague human form, with all my heart.

However, the last few nights, I have been visited by one who is not someone I know. When I feel his darker energy, I feel deep fear.

This phantom growls.  He moves items, noisily and with intent, so that I may be startled awake. The night becomes blacker and deeper...there are no shadows.

I can see nothing. But I feel and hear him...and I quickly cover every inch of my body, telling myself I'm dreaming...telling myself to wake up, yet knowing I am not asleep...

I shook it off, the next day. I fully accept not all Spirits are good. However, it is very rare for me to be visited by a malevolent one.

Busy with the day, the deep fear faded within me.

I had almost forgotten, as I prepared myself for sleep, dozing in that wonderful pre-sleep, floating through the day gone by......

Very suddenly, peace departed...to be replaced by sheer black terror. It became very hard to breathe, as I struggled to contain my fear. Recognizing, honouring and controlling this fear is imperative when being visited.


Fear clouds awareness; I needed to know this being, in order to deal with him. And fear drains my power.


I become angry, as is common for me when I am overwhelmed by enormous presentiment. I sit up in the deep darkness, pushing my energy out, to the forefront. I decide I do not want to be frightened by this dead being, night after night.


And so, I feel I must stand and face this fearful Thing.


As I do, fearfulness fades...and curiosity takes its place. What or who is emanating such black energy?


In the midst of what I consider to be very disruptive noise, Graham sleeps on...as do the dogs. The visitor is here for me alone.

I feel my guides near.  I feel protected by my Guardian medallion, which I had slipped under my pillow earlier. Yet there is an intense pressure...a force keeping me still...


I negotiate. Let me know your intent, I say, Why are you here? But there are only strange growls in reply. I sense, also, a feeling of futility and sadness.


The growls and banging fade.  The Night becomes soft and shadowy once again, the furniture outlined clearly against the walls. The entity has departed.


Sleeps eludes for awhile; I decide to smudge with clear intent in the morning. As I lay in wonderment and perplexity, I considered the fact we had excavated an area where I felt a very strong energy field. Perhaps, even with all the preparations I undertook, with respect to the land, something feels displaced and disoriented.



After a thorough smudging and blessing, last night's sleep was undisturbed, by the being, at least.  Dreams, however, were troubling, with no apparent meaning.


But the memory of this dark force has me unsettled. Who, what, why? There are no answers, as yet. However, I feel  I must prepare.


Halloween...the Night the Spirits walk...has yet to arrive.

The Thin Veil

Last night, when I wandered outside with camera in hand, the only thought in my mind was taking pictures of the full Moon rising.

I love the Night. I love how the deep shadows soften the edges; how, even under the bright lights from the street lamps, those shadows know secrets, hidden from my questioning eyes.

And when the Moon is full and casting its impossibly bright, brilliant light upon Mother Earth...at this time of year, the Veil is thin between Worlds.

All Hallow's Eve...a seasonal time when good and evil Spirits both, visit from other planes. Perhaps they seek reassurance of their loved ones' welfare...the ones left behind when Death came for them. Perhaps they visit for nefarious purposes. Perhaps they are just curious. Nonetheless...they're here.

I've read they like to play practical jokes on the Soul still having the Human experience.

I am aware , as I walk through the dark garden paths, of packets of Spirits...I walk through some of their Energy. I feel the joyful souls, the sad and mournful ones, the curious ones...and I welcome them all. There is not much energy with evil intent, here amidst the safety of my well-loved plants.

But, oh! It is so dark, way back behind Grandfather Tree, and in front of Cork Tree, ablaze, in the daylight, with golden leaves...but now, only a black bulk configured against the deep indigo of the Night Sky.

In Grandfather Tree's presence, I find it easy to seek the mellow reassurance he offers me...I know, without having to actually see, how to navigate around him. His branches tickle my cheek. The chimes tinkle, with the sudden soughing of Wind that whispers sibilant secrets to me...secrets only intended for my ears.

It is a quiet evening. In earlier years, fireworks would have lit up the Skies, frightening inhabitants with the sudden booming of a big Cracker sent up by the juvenile contingent. But now, bylaws have been passed against it, giving all pet owners a sense of relief. There will be those who will test the law; they have already made their presence known...but no longer do our dogs shiver and shake their way through the Hallowe'en season.

I am deep in thought, as my eyes adjust to the black Night. I imagine myself in the centre of the Secret Forest, where rarely any light intruded during the Night hours, and where silence was so total, it became a thing all to itself. I imagine myself walking along the soft Forest floor, littered with needles and leaves. The soft branches brushing my sleeve, the sticky Spider's Webs, their hostesses long gone, clinging to my hair, and the crackle of dry leaves underfoot...that old Forest is still alive, in my mind.

I am happy to visit, happy that I can still conjure up a place so dear to my heart, and I stay there in the stillness, my eyes closed, my breathing slow, feeling the soft vibrations of the energy imparted by Grandfather Tree, taking me on a journey into the past...

And then, a long mournful howl from the Malemute across the Way...another...he brings his sad longing for his North Country into my garden. Sudden tears prick my eyelids, and my heart follows his in his desperate song to the very full Moon.

He is a dog away from his place. Away from his Pack. He howls to the Moon, following the age-old plaintive Call of the Wild, hoping against hope a member of his Pack will answer...

The dog's painful lament ceases; there is a breathless silence once more.

And then...not ten feet away, my ears are split by a baby's sudden terrified cry. My heart stops; I grab a branch from Grandfather Tree to steady myself. The shriek suddenly ceases.

From the relative safety of Grandfather, I peer through the branches, hear the low moan and instantly recognize the voice of Cat. I see two eyes blazing into mine from a low over-hanging branch from Cork Tree.

We stare at each other for some time. I know Cat is pretending to be Lion in a medieval Forest, just as I imagine myself back in time.

The dogs' furious barking, as they round the corner of the house, intrudes upon our silent sharing of fantasies. I raise my camera...but too late. Only the dogs' barking and hysterical demeanours tell me I had a visitor at all.

I sense Grandfather Tree's mirth. And even if my heart is still pounding hard in my chest, I chuckle along as well.

As I wander back to the house, back to the Big Chair and the fireplace, back to safety... I consider the ramifications of meditations outside, deep in the dark of the Night.

And then, I remember the practical jokes Spirits like to play. I wonder...

The Veil is thin. Was I just the butt of a Spirit Jokester?