I see 'dead people'

Posted by C on Wednesday, December 9, 2015 Under: unusual experiences
...but do I really?

To start with I am going to say that I have absolutely NO idea why anyone would want to seek out such an experience.  I have been plagued with it for as long as I can remember.  I hated it all my life.

The amount of people I have met who say they wish they could see a ghost, or meet a loved one who has departed always astounds me.  Deeper still the fascination with all things otherworldly - in any format intrigues me.

Why Uncle Tom Cobbley would make such an effort - and the very physics involved to actually manifest is so utterly mind blowing - that I genuinely just keep an open mind about it all.

This is a path that has demanded my attention and utmost respect.  Not because I chose it (though some would say I DID on some level) but because I have witnessed so much that I am hopefully considerate enough to know what we don't know.

Only the foolish think we know everything - and genuine science is always about discovery.

That said, I am not going to start using pseudo-science to try to explain things that I do not have an explanation for.

I have learnt a lot from looking at different cultures around the world and the way they embrace such experiences within their cultures.

It takes a lot to witness, to experience and not to interpret.  To have strong experiences - whatever those experiences may or may not be - and to not have them necessarily mean anything.  To not overlay.  Yet it is not an impossibility.

So, in as 'clean' a way as one would hope to be able to relay such an account, I say - I have witnessed many things.  Presences, mists, lights, orbs.  Things of many different depths, textures and hues.  I have multi-sensory experiences of presences.  The strongest experiences of presence are when you cannot tell the difference between a human being or a spirit.  I will relay two accounts to you now.  I will do my level best to take the meaning away.

On our way back from a family trip to Derbyshire - well dressing trip (which was great)

We couldn't find a place to stop for food - everywhere was full.

Mum was ever-hopeful.  In our desperation we chanced upon a generic eaterie; moments before-hand, I had had an insight - a visual of an animal that signalled to me 'danger'  - I said nothing.  I knew we all just desperately needed food. Anyway, I had had no context for the sign, it could have meant anywhere, anytime.  We enter and all appears fine, seated at the table, a weight descends on me; intent on our menus; I find I am starting to feel dizzy.  I am just hungry I tell myself.  Ignore it.  Secretly I suspect more. A baby on the next table is yowling like crazy, and the barman starts smashing glasses - not one, but several.I look up from the menu and see Stuart doing his tell-tale head-rub.  'Are you OK Stuart?'  I ask.  'No' he says 'Its odd - I have my headache - it came on as soon as I stepped in here, I was fine before.'  I assure him its OK.  He looks at me and says 'Oh ok, I understand - its like that is it!' and with that the baby yowls louder and light bulbs blow out over the yowling baby on the next table.
By the time my food arrives, the intensity is such that I can no longer feel my arms, I have ordered something that I have to focus on so hard that I think that I am just going to end up throwing the food across the table.  Which I find amusing.  I spend the whole time just concentrating really hard on 1) staying on my seat, and 2) successfully eating my food because I am damned hungry and 3) getting the hell out of there.  On one level, I don't know nor neither care what is going on in there, but I am hungry and want out.  On another level, I would like to help, but I understand that right at that moment I am certainly in no position to do anything useful, even if I could.

We successfully ate all the food, and the split second we exited the door - Stuart's headache stopped and I felt 'normal' again.

I took that as some little triumph.  Bread did not fly out of my hands :)


Some years prior to this, I helped my sister move out of her house, I was the one left in the property hoovering while a team of friends convoyed their belongings back and forth.  They weren't moving far.

You know that feeling you get when someone looks at you - the feeling of being watched.

I was hoovering - retreating into the kitchen, with the backdoor into the back yard open.  I had that feeling.  With the hoover on, I turned around to see a man with the most amazing blue eyes and blank face staring straight in watching me.  I was so annoyed.  I immediately turned around, slammed off the hoover and shouted 'What do you want?!'  He had medium-long grey hair, wore a hat, and a cream trench coat.  Being a villager, you tend to know other villagers.   This was a stranger, I did not recogonise him.  Was he a chancer?  He looked vacant, didn't respond to me; turned as if in a daze, and just walked away.

Some years after this, someone else was living in the same property and my sister and I were next door.  The neighbours were away.  We can hear anyone come up the the steps and walk up the alleyway.  We were in my room.  We both heard footsteps, and the backdoor go to our neighbours house, closely followed by interior doors banging.  We looked at each other and I said 'Oh X must be back from their holiday - just one of them.'  
When Mum came home I said that either one of the neighbours must have returned because Susan and I had clearly heard them, and could hear the doors banging.  'No' she said, there's nobody there.  Well they were, I said.  You ask Susan.
We later found out that nobody had been there.  Yet both Susan and I had clearly heard foosteps, back door and interior movement inside the neighbouring property as loud and clear as  you would hear any other sounds.  


One of my earlier meditation episodes included seeing faces.  One of the most unnerving experiences I have had is the immediate appearance on closing my eyes and relaxing of a pale-blue tinged and bloated face hovering one inch away from mine, and knowing that this was the face of a dead person.  Someone who had come off their motorbike somewhere in the north of the country.  It totally freaked me out, I hated it, and managed to move it out of mind.  For a couple of years I would get hilarious Dallas-credits style people turning away or towards me, heavens knows why.   Perhaps they like Dallas credits. ! I fail to see its purpose because I don't let it mean anything or turn it into anything else - I just noticed it, acknowledged it, smiled and moved on.

In : unusual experiences 

Tags: presences  ghosts  experiences  consciousness 

Wonderings on the Path

Musings on the path less ordinary.. Maybe I'm a synathene...some people would say I have empathic and highly sensitive, psychic or other abilities. Me? I keep an open mind - and maybe that's part of the picture...