Real Life Ghost Stories
Remember the movie The Sixth Sense? That was me. When my mom saw the film, she called me and said, Wow, now I understand! I was that kid hiding in a closet surrounded by my toy horses, my fingers in my ears to shut out the voices of the hovering spirits. I was the little Jewish girl on my knees in every Catholic church, covering myself with holy water and genuflecting in the hopes it would keep the ghosts away. But they kept coming and they scared me nearly to death! Of course they didn't look like they did in movie. Ghosts look like they did in life, unless they are quite distressed and then they are kind of a ball of chaotic energy.
Took me years to come to terms with the fact that I see and hear ghosts. They come for a reason - because they have unfinished business that they want me to finish. I generally refuse. It's not that I'm not sympathetic, it's just that...well...exactly how would you approach a complete stranger and say...uh...I just spoke with your dead brother and uh... I can't bring myself to do it. I have only passed on messages on those occasions when I knew I could make a difference and the person I was asked to contact wouldn't be likely to call the police.
Over the years, I've lived in three haunted houses - one in Iowa, two in Utah - that darn Utah - and met some pretty interesting spirits out here in Cali. My favorite is this very handsome Native American man I see when I hike. I see him on one particular trail in one particular place. He's caught in time, stalking a deer, just beyond a pile of fallen rock. He always appears in the autumn, just before the rains begin. I stand still and watch him. He's bent over, walking silent as a big cat, all his attention focused on whatever is ahead of him. His chest is bare, he wears deerskin leggings and moccasins. His hair is long and braided and tied with a deerskin thong. I wish he could see and hear me, but he can't, so my dog and I stand and watch until he vanishes into thin air. Oh yeah, my dog can see him too. Nothing stirs with his passing aside from my heart. It's such a poignant moment and I wonder why he's stranded there, in the midst of this one act. Did he die that day? Or is this simply a reflection of what was? Perhaps one day, if only in a story, he'll stop and turn and see me. And I'll know the answer.
Took me years to come to terms with the fact that I see and hear ghosts. They come for a reason - because they have unfinished business that they want me to finish. I generally refuse. It's not that I'm not sympathetic, it's just that...well...exactly how would you approach a complete stranger and say...uh...I just spoke with your dead brother and uh... I can't bring myself to do it. I have only passed on messages on those occasions when I knew I could make a difference and the person I was asked to contact wouldn't be likely to call the police.
Over the years, I've lived in three haunted houses - one in Iowa, two in Utah - that darn Utah - and met some pretty interesting spirits out here in Cali. My favorite is this very handsome Native American man I see when I hike. I see him on one particular trail in one particular place. He's caught in time, stalking a deer, just beyond a pile of fallen rock. He always appears in the autumn, just before the rains begin. I stand still and watch him. He's bent over, walking silent as a big cat, all his attention focused on whatever is ahead of him. His chest is bare, he wears deerskin leggings and moccasins. His hair is long and braided and tied with a deerskin thong. I wish he could see and hear me, but he can't, so my dog and I stand and watch until he vanishes into thin air. Oh yeah, my dog can see him too. Nothing stirs with his passing aside from my heart. It's such a poignant moment and I wonder why he's stranded there, in the midst of this one act. Did he die that day? Or is this simply a reflection of what was? Perhaps one day, if only in a story, he'll stop and turn and see me. And I'll know the answer.
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You are an old soul, dear. You have bridged the gap between the worlds because you touched the other side. You know why they ask you. No one else notices them. They walk through them and over them. If you are sensitive, you are approachable. Most of us could see them if we opened our eyes. Some of us can feel or sense them. But we are taught not to see them.
ReplyDeleteWow how incredibly beautiful that vision must be. I've lived in two haunted houses, one being my childhood home. My dad still lives there. The ghost, who I believe to be a child, only plays pranks on females.
ReplyDeleteYou truly amaze me.
I'm not all that fond of ghosts. I prefer that they move on...haunted houses are definitely scary places - usually. Both of the homes in Utah were awful. The house where I grew up in Iowa was tolerable. I think the ghost came to see himself as part of the family.
ReplyDeleteJulia this blog was amazing. I so hope some of this material becomes a book or books! Perhaps the spirits approach you because they want their stories told. Personally I would love to read more about your autumn hunter...
ReplyDeleteXXOO Kat
Although, on one hand, an incredibly cool gift, I imagine it is also terribly frightening sometimes!
ReplyDeleteTessie - depends upon how disturbed they are. A Native American medicine man once told me I have to be careful because spirits are drawn to me like a moth to a flame, both good and bad spirits, so I have to protect myself from the bad. Yeah, I was terrified as a kid and sometimes now. I have, however, learned to tune a lot out and eventually they give up and move on.
ReplyDeleteThat guy though, I watched for him today but he hasn't appeared yet this fall.
Actually Kat, a book will be my next project - soon as I finish up with current stuff!
ReplyDelete