These posts are an account of my own personal experiences with spirituality and the paranormal in chronological order, to the best of my memory. I will do my best to post new entries on Thursdays.
Previous PageI had a number of strange dreams in my teen years. They were so vivid, I still remember them to this day. I will share them one at a time.
The first one stood out strongly because it was monochromatic. Everything was blue. All different shades of blue. I was standing near the three great pyramids in Egypt. I was outside. There were other smaller buildings scattered around. I was looking around when suddenly there was an alarm. We were under attack! I immediately headed into a small buiiding and took the stairs underground.
Underground was a tunnel. Now everything was red. Again, monochromatic, but instead of blue it was red. There were lights along the length of the tunnel and I assumed these were the source of the red colour. I had to go along this tunnel towards the pyramids.
In this dream, I was in a small 2 or 4 seater airplane. I was not the pilot, but I was in one of the seats up front. We were flying over the mouth of the Amazon River. We flew down over the Amazon and the pilot informed me to look at the jungle. To my surprise there had been clear cutting of the jungle and there were factories all along the river.
The pilot said, "If this happens, the humans will have gone too far." He continued, "There will be no helping them and no way to save them if their greed causes this."
I wished this would not happen, but that the humans would be wise enough not to destroy this vital jungle.
I found myself floating toward my bedroom door. This sensation of floating or flying had somehow woken me up within the dream and I paid attention. I floated toward my bedroom door, which I always kept closed as a teenager.
On the back of the door there was a full length mirror attached. I was shocked to see my reflection! I was not shocked to see myself floating in the air, because I already expected that. What really startled me was that I was wearing my red housecoat, which I knew I couldn't be as I should have been in my pajamas!
This shock woke me up from the dream state and I was quite surprised I had been 'aware' of the fact that I was in a dream, while I was in the dream! How could that be possible?
A different night and I felt myself floating again. Once again, this 'woke me up' within the dream, so that I was aware I was dreaming.
Once again I floated towards my closed bedroom door. I did not see my reflection as I was focused on wanting to leave my room and explore in this conscious dream state.
Upon reaching the door I realized it was closed so I could not get through it. This frustration woke me up.
Upon waking up, I determined that I could in fact go out the door, as it was only a dream and not 'real'. I decided that if I had a dream like that again, I would exit my bedroom.
Once again, on a different night, I felt myself floating in the air. Again, this made me aware I was in a dream. I floated across my bedroom to my closed door, but his time I went through it. I floated down the hallway, past my brothers room, past the bathroom and down the short flight of stairs to the living room.
I crossed the living room towards the front door of the house. I reached the door and realized it was locked. I couldn't get out.
The dream ended and I woke up kicking myself. Why should the lock stop me? I got through my bedroom door, because it doesn't really exist in a dream. The same thing with the locked door. That should not prevent me from going through the door! I resolved that if I had another one of these 'waking dreams', I would go through that locked door, like I had my bedroom door.
It happened again. I found myself floating above my bed and this made me aware that once again, I was in a dream. I floated across my bedroom and through my bedroom door, as I had learned there is no door, it's only a dream. I then floated down the hallway and down the stairs into the living room. I reached the front door to the house and this time I knew the lock could not stop me, so I went through the door.
At last, I was outside and could go anywhere! I flew over the tops of the houses and streets. It was dark, night time and there was very little activity outside. I flew around until I reached Limeridge Mall and flew over the parking lot and over the mall.
I got bored with that, as nothing was going on, so I flew in a different direction. I could not figure out where to go or what to do next. The dream ended.
That was the last spontaneous floating dream I had. It wasn't until I was in my 20's that I discovered they were called Lucid Dreams. I don't know why these dreams happened to me in my teens. I can only guess it was due to spiritual work I had done in my past lives.
During my teen years I had a few odd experiences that at the time I did not understand. I don't remember precisely what order these things took place, I just know they happened at the same house.
My parents bought a betamax machine and rented movies for it every now and then. One of the movies they got was Close Encounters of the Third Kind. A very weird thing happened to me while I watched that. In the scene where Richard Dreyfuss starts creating a sculpture with his mashed potatoes, I got covered in goose bumps and my hair stood on end. I got a very strange, fantastical feeling rush up my spine into my skull. Only for that scene. It wasnt fear, it was something else, something I really can't describe.
Another time, it was night time and my friends and I were outside wandering the neighbourhood, when we landed back at my place. We decided to lay down on the grass and look at the stars on my front lawn. I couldn't do it. I mean, I did it, but only briefly because I felt like I was going to fall off the planet. I physically felt my body start to lift off the ground, so I sat up and stopped. I've never done it since.
For most of my teens I had the overwhelming urge to move, to leave, to run away. Yes, it was a toxic, dysfunctional homelife with my family, but there was something pulling at me. I wanted to go west and more north than Hamilton. I did not know where exactly, just that I had to go. I never did. I rationalized the dangers of doing something like that and just stayed put. Who knows what would have happened if I had or where I would have ended up?
My mother loved the native culture of North America. She and my step-father used to go to the Pow Wows at the Six Nations Reserve in Caledonia. One year, my step-father was working and could not take her. She decided to take me and my two younger brothers, so she wouldn't miss out on it.
We drove out there and walked around looking at the booths selling items. We got to see the Regalia the dancers wore. It was a new experience for us kids.
I don't know why, but I kept waiting for an elderly medicine man to approach me. I kept waiting to be recognized and welcomed somehow. I looked around and searched for someone, anyone, to 'see' me.
I sat in the stands watching the dances. I loved seeing the children all in their Regalia dancing and the women looked so beautiful in their dresses. It was wonderful to watch this celebration.
While I sat there, I wondered why no one recognized me. I realized they had forgotten how to 'see', that no one could 'see' me. I felt sadness at this. That they had lost this ability.
As we drove home, I was disappointed that no one recognized me or approached me to offer me spiritual teachings. I thought about this and wondered why I even thought this way? Where was this idea coming from? Who was I that they would recognize me? I must be crazy, I figured, so I decided to forget all about it. And that is exactly what I did. I completely forgot about this event until many decades later.
We went to other Pow Wows, but I had put all my foolishness behind me and no longer searched for anyone to 'see' me.
I bought a ouija board as a teenager and use to play with it with my friends or even by myself. I was always looking for answers and interested in the paranormal.
One evening my friend Kim was over and my parents had gone out somewhere. We decided to play with the ouija board and set it up on the kitchen table. I sat with my back to the front door of the house and she sat facing it.
We played for some time, when Kim suddenly looked up from the board and waved and said hello. I was like what are you doing? She replied that she thought my parents had just entered the house and walked up behind me. My parents had not returned yet.
I stopped playing then as I figured it was a ghost that had walked up behind me, as our place was haunted. It was very strange for Kim to have reacted that way.
*Just a word of caution about ouija boards: If you have no gifts or abilities of a psychic nature you could probably play with the ouiga board or similar activity and never run into any issues with spirits at all. However, if you have gifts of the psychic kind, be aware you could be dealing with something unpleasant or you may stir up trouble, so just be cautious and careful. Not all spirits are benevolent and there are tricksters out there. Negative spirits start off pretending they are good/friendly spirits but their true nature will come through eventually.
I was home alone.
I was in my bedroom. It was the afternoon. I don't remember what I was doing at the time, but I was heading out of my room when I saw it. Our house was a split level. My bedroom door faced the short hallway and small staircase that led down to the ground floor level. I could see the living room from my bedroom door and that is where it was. It was sitting in my mother's chair. The chair she always sat in to read her Harlequin romance novels.
This chair was situated diagonally, facing towards the large window in the living room. It sat in that chair facing forward. I could see it from the side, it's left shoulder and left side of its back was closest to me. It did not turn to look at me. It was a man, completely black. Black like a shadow person, black clothing and a black rimmed hat on it's head. I had never seen any thing like it before! I panicked!
I yelled at it, "You can't come into my room!!!" I slammed the door shut and huddled on my bed clinging to my stuffed animals and waited.
I did not open my door or venture out of my room until other people came home. Even then I was cautious that it could still be sitting there. It seemed to be gone, so I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't tell anyone about it as I would have gotten into trouble and then made fun of.
Every now and then I could still 'feel' its presence though, even though I did not see it again. Sometimes I could feel it watching me in my room from the doorway of my parent's bedroom. Their door was right next to mine, our two doors meeting at the corner, so it could see into my room if my door was open when it stood in their doorway.
I became a punk when I was a teenager. Listening to new wave and punk rock music. Our high school even had some of these bands come and play in our auditorium, which was pretty cool. My other punk friends and I would sneak into bars underage to watch bands perform. We would also go to punk dances at different establishments that would play our kind of music on different nights.
It was at one of these punk dances that a group of my friends from high school and friends from different high schools around the city got together. As punks we got to know other punks from around the city. We didn't just stick to our small clique at our school. It was cool to hang out with kids from different areas of the city. Public schools, Catholic schools, private schools, we didn't care, we all shared the same taste in music. That's what mattered to us.
On this occasion, a group of head bangers showed up. Head bangers listened to heavy metal and tended to be a bunch of jerks who thought they were better than everyone else. They came looking for a fight.
Now for us all being friends, when we slam danced we would only do it to someone else that was doing it and you basically bounced your body off of each other, trying not to hurt each other. It could be fun. You tended to make eye contact with the person before slamming into them, so you were both prepared.
The head bangers however, wanted a fight. Being outsiders thought it would be funny to slam into people to hurt them. So they got on the dance floor and started pushing people around.
I was dancing with my friends, when some head bangers pushed a big punk guy mid air. He then accidentally slammed into me and landed on my left foot. I was hurt and went back to my seat. I knew this big punk guy. He was an acquaintance. He was the sweetest guy, so considerate and thoughtful and gentle. He was so upset that I got hurt. I'd never seen him that angry before. He followed me to my seat and asked if I was alright, because if I was badly hurt, he knew who the head banging guys were that caused me to get hurt and he would beat the shit out of them. I was hurt badly, but I did not want him to beat those guys up on my account. The head bangers meanwhile had run out into the parking lot, laughing and a bunch of punks got after them. I do believe they got the fight they were after.
My foot was in pain for quite some time, but I never went and got it checked out, because I did not want the punk dude to find out and then beat those guys up. I found out decades later, when my feet were examined that I had actually broken a bone in my left foot. I knew it was from the slam dancing incident all those years ago. It couldn't have happened any other way.
Well, I graduated from high school and grade 13. I ended up attending the local college. I spent most of my time hanging out with my close friend, Kim who was taking a different course than me and the friends she had in college. I got along okay with the people in my class, but had more fun with the gang Kim was with.
We would go to different parties and hang out after school. Sometimes we would play with the Ouija Board. We discovered that Bob and I got the best results when it was just the two of us playing. Everyone else would ask questions and we would do all the work with the board. It was fun.
That was until the time we went to the farm. Kim's Dad and her Uncles all bought a farm together not too far out of the city. They kept animals out there and played with skidoos in the winter on the land. No one actually lived on the farm.
One night we were all out there. Now the rumour was that an old lady had lived there and killed herself in that house. That is why the farm was sold. Well, everyone wanted me and Bob to play with the Ouija Board and talk to the old lady. We set it up and sat there with our fingers on the planchette ready to communicate.
We said hello and asked if anyone wanted to talk with us. Nothing happened. I mean the planchette never moved at all. That had never happened to me and Bob before. It sat motionless. We tried a couple of times, with no result. I quit. I announced I was not going to play, it wasn't a good idea. Everyone laughed at me. I didn't care. I wasn't going to mess around with the energy or ghosts or whatever was there. It didn't feel right to me.
Part of my college curriculum was to do a work placement. I got a job in Toronto and had to commute from home in Hamilton. Sometimes I would take the Go Bus and at other times I would take the double decker Go Train. I would sit by myself and listen to the people talking to their commuter buddies. Depending on the traffic on the highway or delays on the train, this could take anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours one way. That's not including my half an hour bus ride to get to or from my house or any walking to and from bus stops or train stations.
I was young, still a teenager, but I found the commute such a waste of time. I would hear people talking about the fact they had been commuting to work for like 20 years or more. I didn't get it. They would talk about having their kitchens renovated and this and that. It was so mundane. It was such a waste of a life, I thought.
I didn't understand why they were caught up in these trivial matters. Why weren't they discussing life? Why were they alive? What was life all about? What or where were the answers to all of this?
They didn't seem interested in the truly important things in life. They were wasting their entire lives working to make money to buy things or to fix things they bought. I couldn't do this. I couldn't live like they did. I had to find the answers to life. Anything else just seemed to be a waste of a life.
I quit college and got a full time job in the city where I lived. I was still living at home, I was nineteen years old and looking for an apartment in the downtown core. I had to take the bus to get to work every morning and then again at the end of my work day to get back to my parent's home.
One morning, at the beginning of September, a young boy got on the bus. I would guess he was about 10 or 11 years old. He put in the child's fare at the time which was about 10 or 15 cents. The bus driver asked him to show his school i.d. to prove he was a child. Seeing as it was only the the 2nd or 3rd day back to school, there was no way this kid would have school i.d. yet. The boy stated that he did not have any i.d.. The bus driver demanded he pay full adult fair of about 75 cents. The boy pulled out a two dollar bill and said that was all he had for his lunch money. The driver insisted he get change for it from someone on the bus to pay the fare or he would be kicked off the bus.
I was stunned. Obviously, he was a kid and should not be paying the adult fare. This bus driver was being an asshole. The kid asked if anyone could give him change for his 2 dollars. A couple of women sitting at the front went through their change purses, but declared they did not have enough change to make 2 dollars. Again, I was stunned. The kid then turned to others, who looked away and didn't even try to help the child. What the hell was wrong with these people? Why didn't they just give the kid the 60 cents to pay the fare, so he could get to school? He needed the two dollars for his lunch. If they wouldn't help a little kid, who the hell would these people help? I was disgusted.
The whole time the bus driver was yelling at this kid to hurry up or he would kick him off the bus. I was sitting nearer the back of the bus, but I called the kid over to me. He came and I handed him an adult bus ticket. He held up his two dollars and said he couldn't pay me for it. I said he needed that money for his lunch. I told him he would be doing me a favour if he used the bus ticket to get the bus driver to shut up. I didn't want the kid to feel bad for taking the ticket. The child took the ticket, paid the fare and took a seat. The bus driver finally shut up.
These were adults, with jobs, who could have easily given the kid sixty cents. I wondered how many of them went to church or called themselves Christians, because they certainly didn't act like it in this moment. I was only a teenager and yet I knew to help the kid out. I thought to myself, that I hoped the people on the bus learned a lesson to just give the kid the money and help him out without needing to take his lunch money. It was the proper thing to do. He was just a little kid. Upon having that thought, I was filled with a most blissful feeling. It filled my entire body. I was amazed by it. I had never had that feeling before.
My friend, Karen and I got an apartment downtown. I worked across the street and she worked in another city, so had to drive back and forth to work. It was nice to finally move out of my abusive family home. I didn't really have any significant things happen to me while I lived here, that I can remember.
I read a book that told me the dreams I had as a teenager were called Lucid Dreams. The ones that I was aware I was dreaming as I was dreaming. The book said I could have lucid dreams anytime I want. So, every night before falling asleep, I would tell myself repeatedly that I wanted to have a lucid dream. It took about a week or two of doing this for it to happen. I realized the sensation of floating or flying would cause me to become conscious that I was in a dream. The problem was that I didn't know what to do while in that state, so I stopped trying.
I was doing tarot readings for my friends. I had been doing that since I was a teenager. One girl wanted to know who her next boyfriend would be. I actually saw an image of him and his best friend playing video games together, while doing the reading and described them to her. When the day came some time later that she introduced me to her latest boyfriend I was shocked that he and his best friend were exactly how I had seen them.
A few years had passed by and I changed jobs many times and moved to another place. I was working at 7 Eleven at this point and had a dream that I would win the lottery if I played my numbers on the 649. I bought one row of numbers for $1. In the dream I was told it would be my numbers that would come up, so there was no point in buying extra. I only really ever played that one set of numbers anyway.
On this occasion I won $69. I took my ticket in to cash it, and my co-worker Sheila rang it up. She was so mad at me. Ha ha. She was angry because I had only bought one set of numbers! I had only spent $1 and won. Working at that store, I was used to people coming in and spending loads of money trying to win lotteries, so I could see why she would be upset.
From then on, I would only buy lottery tickets if I had a dream or a 'calling' that I would win. I usually only won $10, but $9 profit is alright.