NEGATIVE ACTIONS
At the end of 1999, the agency I was working for hired a new director. The old one left to take a lower paying position with social services. No one knew why, but the agency felt (to me) like it was falling apart. The new director was Kay, a cheerful smart woman. Kay began to study everything related to the agency. Since we had become friends and I spent most of my time out of the office, Kay would relate unusual findings. She discovered a large sum of money missing. When Kay made inquiries, the staff told her to mind her own business, when it was her business. The old director still had friends covering her.
Kay became isolated and unsure who to trust, especially when she was told to never close her office door or warned about talking to other staff. Kay told me she had a dream that she went to the office and there snakes everywhere. The dream began to be repeated and Kay knew she needed to clean the snakes out or get out.
One evening at the end of February, my supervisor called me in a panic. Sheila told me to call Kay. A little weasel from the board of directors came to the office, told Kay to take a few days off to rethink and change her approach. Kay was not to find what happened to the missing funds. Also Sheila thought that bad medicine had been used on Kay.
I called Kay and she was very upset, for not only was she unceremoniously forced from her office, but she had red streaks growing from her fingertips to her elbows. Kay had no idea what it meant, but she knew it was not good.
The first thing I told Kay to do was to white light herself and her surroundings. It was late so I promised to come to see her the following evening. We spent a long time talking, most of it reassuring Kay that she would be fine.
Friday morning Kay called me. She was very excited. Kay had spent an hour or more Thursday evening, while lighting herself, her apartment, the building and all of Edmonton. In the morning, the city was covered in hoar frost. All the trees were beautiful in their frosted decorations. The city of Edmonton looked a fairyland. Kay was thrilled that she might be responsible, which was entirely possible. It was the only day that winter which looked like that. Kay also said that the angry red streaks were slowly becoming shorter.
When I showed up Friday night, Kay was in good spirits as I cleaned her apartment spiritually. All negative energy was returned to the sender and it seemed to me that as many as 5 people had been involved with bad medicine and it bad medicine had definitely been used on Kay. By the end of the weekend, Kay had no streaks on her arms.
Kay went back to work, but began to look for work elsewhere. Kay left in August which was the best idea any way. I left at the beginning of December to work for another agency as a family support worker, again. Several years passed until one day I ran into someone from the old agency. Pat began with ‘Did you hear’?
It appeared that everyone I suspected of wishing harm on Kay had lost someone. One woman lost a husband, another brother, one was assaulted even children of the perpetrators had not been exempt. The events which took lives were bizarre, weird.
Everything we do comes back on us, I would rather get along with people than curse them. I would rather hand out love and stay away from negative people.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Haunted
In September of 1985, my three boys and I moved into a house in Edmonton. The day we moved in, I had a lecture to give in Drayton Valley just outside Edmonton. My oldest son, Lance was 17, so I left him in charge. I told him I would not be coming home until the following evening. Lance said it was no problem, so off I went. Tuesday night, I returned home to discover an agitated teenager. Lance told me that there was banging in the house and footsteps in the night. He awoke in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, grabbed a machete in his closet and raced down the stairs to the main floor and then to the basement following the steps. Lance realized that if something or someone was there, he really did not know what he would to do. So he went back to bed and stayed awake listening to all the sounds of the house.
My younger boys would not play in the basement recreation room and when I went downstairs to do laundry, I would race down , throw the laundry in and race back upstairs. There was a very heavy feeling in the house.
Cupboard doors would bang, footsteps continued and sometimes I would hear things being tossed around in the upstairs bathroom. Whenever I checked, there was never anything amiss. I brought in a psychic friend to banish the ghosts. I saw spirits on several occasions, but the noises continued. The house was about fifty years old, so I went downtown to the Edmonton office to check on previous tenants complaining of strange activities in our house. There was nothing.
For some reason, I kept getting the last tenant’s mail. Gloria would come over to pick the mail up, but was perplexed because she had put in a change of address. Eventually, Gloria and I realized that we needed to meet. Her own son refused to be in the house alone when they lived in the black and white house. Gloria had some unsettling experiences, but told no one about them.
One night, I had just begun to fall asleep and I felt a presence in my room. It did not feel good at all, however I could not shake myself awake or open my eyes. Then, I felt something on my face, restricting my breathing. I felt like I was getting smothered. That’s when I called on the angels and God to help me. I was finally able to open my eyes and I saw a bent outline of something at the foot of my bed. To go back to sleep was hard, so I whitelighted myself and asked for protection.
When I told Gloria about this, she admitted that the same thing had happened to her. Gloria’s dog was in the bedroom at the time and began barking and barking until Gloria was able to break the weird hold the presence had on her. Gloria stated that she heard that the houses were built on a grave site years ago.
When my sister Ruth moved in with her son Daniel shortly after this, Ruth said she felt as though there was some sort of vortex in the house. The presence which was fond of smothering was an old lady who had lived in the house years ago and she wanted us out.
We looked for another house. Gloria (who became a great friend), Ruth and I walked through all the choices until we found one which had no unwanted visitors. My children were much more relaxed in the new house. Whew!
Since then I learned how to clear a house. About five years ago, one of my daughters had a friend whose stepdad had a heart attack. Tamara called in a panic and wanted to know if I could help. I did an angel reading for Tamara’s mother. The stepdad showed up wearing a blue jean shirt and talked about how he was blocked with his feelings but how he loved Tamara’s mother. Tamara’s mother was shocked because her husband wore a blue jean shirt a lot. After the funeral, I was invited to the house. There were about ten other people there all waiting to hear something. The stepdad Jim, stood behind Tamara’s mother and spoke. It’s always telepathic with those who leave this earth. It was great to see how love is always what comes through. No one ever says, they should have worked more. The departed (really still very much alive) wish they could have loved more, been more expressive with love and less demanding with petty material things.
Anyway Maria, Tamara’s mother asked that I check the house over. The house was probably built sometime around WWII. So I wandered through the house, inspecting every room. When I came to the basement, there were two carved masks on the recreation room wall. The negative energy oozed from them. One mask was a happy grimace and the other a sad one. These are the type of masks that represent the theatre, tragedy and comedy. However, there was nothing pleasant or happy about these masks. When the masks were made, the creator put bad, bad energy into his creation. Tamara said she hated coming downstairs, she didn’t like the feeling. I told Tamara and her mother Maria to get rid of the masks, burying them would be a good idea. The masks were taken off the wall and the energy changed in the house.
A few years ago, my oldest son Lance flew me to visit him in England. Right out of the airport, we drove to Stonehenge. I saw monks from another age walking around with torches. One monk wore a light coloured robe and hood while the others were all in brown. Stonehenge was not always used for the good of mankind.
Then my son, daughter-in-law and grandchild drove to Woodhenge. I know, I had never heard of it either. There was a large tree stump set in the middle of large elipical circles. Originally there were short tree stumps in these circles. Each circle had larger stumps than the last one. The wood eventually rotted, so the farmer who owned the field replaced each wooden stump with metal ones. I sat on the middle stump and was overcome with grief. I saw people being dragged to the inner stump, Some sort of sentence was pronounced by the individual on the stump. There were beatings and even death. My son, Lance was taking pictures and asked what was wrong as I began to sob. I left Woodhenge behind pretty quickly.
Next, we went to Avebury a few miles away. Avebury is still a small village surrounded by extremely large stones, similar to Stonehenge. The aerial photo resembles a face with eyes, nose and a mouth. Many of the stones have been chipped away and used for building houses and fences, but it is still easy to see and feel the effect of the village surrounded by stones. My impression was that Avebury was built to offset the negative effects of Stonehenge and Woodhenge, a protection for the villagers. Someone was very clever in building the stone circle, for the stones still feel good, have a good energy.
My son’s hobby in England is belonging to a re-enactment group. The group was playing beside a castle, surrounded by an empty moat. There was sword fighting, dancing, archery, juggling and a play along the lines of a country fair a la 13/14th century. We (me too!) slept in pavilion like tents next to the castle and wore the clothes of that medieval period. We could wear no watches, glasses, jewellery or anything modern. Even the food we ate had to be roughly the same, hunks of bread, cheese, fruit etc.
Just before the show began, one of the young maidens from the group and I went into the castle. We climbed long stone steps which ascended to the third floor. The second floor had held the great hall, had long ago collapsed and was cordoned off. Once we reached the third floor, there was a flagstone walk past long windows. At the end of the walk, I could see a woman dresses in a teal green dress, wool, it appeared. She wore a headpiece, fitting the head, but flaring out at the sides. The sides of the hat matched her dress, but the centre of her hat was white. This woman walked back and forth staring out the window. My assumption was that she was worried about her husband who was off fighting. Then I got a really strong sense that she was worried that her husband was off somewhere with other women. My companion and I rushed through the rest of the castle, but on the bottom floor, I saw lots of people busily carrying sacks. These people were mostly men dressed in varying shades of brown. These were ghosts for there actually no living person there other than us.
At the end of all the play battles, I sat with a few young squires (knights in waiting) and mentioned the female spirit I had seen. Mark looked at me and said, ”You are giving me shivers. Do you know the history of the castle?”
I admitted that I didn’t. There were no signs or legends anywhere. Mark proceeded to tell me that King Edward II of England had built the castle in 1100 A.D. Edward had married some Spanish or Portuguese princess. Edward’s wife had basically had Edward tortured and killed for being unfaithful. I could not listen to those details. Anyway, her son imprisoned her in the castle for 30 years for killing his father. I did not see her when she was imprisoned for 30 years, only when she was worried. Spirits often get stuck in traumatic events as did she. I saw and heard a lot of spirits in England.
When I came back to Canada, My living window had a green plastic garbage bag taped to it. There was a huge hole where someone had smashed my window in the middle of the night. My two daughters living at home did not really know who had done this. Since this was now the beginning of September, I needed to get my window fixed. It took almost two months and the weather was getting chilly.
One day in November, I sat with my back to the tv set and heard that a young boy had been stabbed to death at a house party not too far from where I lived. I made a mental note to ask my daughters if they knew him. Within 10 minutes, my youngest daughter came flying down the stairs, crying. As I asked her what was wrong, I could see a young teenager building up a few feet away. My daughter told me that a boy she knew had been killed. I asked if he matched the description I could now see in my family room. Then this young kid told me he was sorry he had broken my living room window. I told my daughter and she blurted out. ‘I always wondered if he did it.” This was not the end of this boy whom I had never met, nor was it the last apology I had received from the departed.
Life is stranger than fiction, but fiction often comes from life.
My younger boys would not play in the basement recreation room and when I went downstairs to do laundry, I would race down , throw the laundry in and race back upstairs. There was a very heavy feeling in the house.
Cupboard doors would bang, footsteps continued and sometimes I would hear things being tossed around in the upstairs bathroom. Whenever I checked, there was never anything amiss. I brought in a psychic friend to banish the ghosts. I saw spirits on several occasions, but the noises continued. The house was about fifty years old, so I went downtown to the Edmonton office to check on previous tenants complaining of strange activities in our house. There was nothing.
For some reason, I kept getting the last tenant’s mail. Gloria would come over to pick the mail up, but was perplexed because she had put in a change of address. Eventually, Gloria and I realized that we needed to meet. Her own son refused to be in the house alone when they lived in the black and white house. Gloria had some unsettling experiences, but told no one about them.
One night, I had just begun to fall asleep and I felt a presence in my room. It did not feel good at all, however I could not shake myself awake or open my eyes. Then, I felt something on my face, restricting my breathing. I felt like I was getting smothered. That’s when I called on the angels and God to help me. I was finally able to open my eyes and I saw a bent outline of something at the foot of my bed. To go back to sleep was hard, so I whitelighted myself and asked for protection.
When I told Gloria about this, she admitted that the same thing had happened to her. Gloria’s dog was in the bedroom at the time and began barking and barking until Gloria was able to break the weird hold the presence had on her. Gloria stated that she heard that the houses were built on a grave site years ago.
When my sister Ruth moved in with her son Daniel shortly after this, Ruth said she felt as though there was some sort of vortex in the house. The presence which was fond of smothering was an old lady who had lived in the house years ago and she wanted us out.
We looked for another house. Gloria (who became a great friend), Ruth and I walked through all the choices until we found one which had no unwanted visitors. My children were much more relaxed in the new house. Whew!
Since then I learned how to clear a house. About five years ago, one of my daughters had a friend whose stepdad had a heart attack. Tamara called in a panic and wanted to know if I could help. I did an angel reading for Tamara’s mother. The stepdad showed up wearing a blue jean shirt and talked about how he was blocked with his feelings but how he loved Tamara’s mother. Tamara’s mother was shocked because her husband wore a blue jean shirt a lot. After the funeral, I was invited to the house. There were about ten other people there all waiting to hear something. The stepdad Jim, stood behind Tamara’s mother and spoke. It’s always telepathic with those who leave this earth. It was great to see how love is always what comes through. No one ever says, they should have worked more. The departed (really still very much alive) wish they could have loved more, been more expressive with love and less demanding with petty material things.
Anyway Maria, Tamara’s mother asked that I check the house over. The house was probably built sometime around WWII. So I wandered through the house, inspecting every room. When I came to the basement, there were two carved masks on the recreation room wall. The negative energy oozed from them. One mask was a happy grimace and the other a sad one. These are the type of masks that represent the theatre, tragedy and comedy. However, there was nothing pleasant or happy about these masks. When the masks were made, the creator put bad, bad energy into his creation. Tamara said she hated coming downstairs, she didn’t like the feeling. I told Tamara and her mother Maria to get rid of the masks, burying them would be a good idea. The masks were taken off the wall and the energy changed in the house.
A few years ago, my oldest son Lance flew me to visit him in England. Right out of the airport, we drove to Stonehenge. I saw monks from another age walking around with torches. One monk wore a light coloured robe and hood while the others were all in brown. Stonehenge was not always used for the good of mankind.
Then my son, daughter-in-law and grandchild drove to Woodhenge. I know, I had never heard of it either. There was a large tree stump set in the middle of large elipical circles. Originally there were short tree stumps in these circles. Each circle had larger stumps than the last one. The wood eventually rotted, so the farmer who owned the field replaced each wooden stump with metal ones. I sat on the middle stump and was overcome with grief. I saw people being dragged to the inner stump, Some sort of sentence was pronounced by the individual on the stump. There were beatings and even death. My son, Lance was taking pictures and asked what was wrong as I began to sob. I left Woodhenge behind pretty quickly.
Next, we went to Avebury a few miles away. Avebury is still a small village surrounded by extremely large stones, similar to Stonehenge. The aerial photo resembles a face with eyes, nose and a mouth. Many of the stones have been chipped away and used for building houses and fences, but it is still easy to see and feel the effect of the village surrounded by stones. My impression was that Avebury was built to offset the negative effects of Stonehenge and Woodhenge, a protection for the villagers. Someone was very clever in building the stone circle, for the stones still feel good, have a good energy.
My son’s hobby in England is belonging to a re-enactment group. The group was playing beside a castle, surrounded by an empty moat. There was sword fighting, dancing, archery, juggling and a play along the lines of a country fair a la 13/14th century. We (me too!) slept in pavilion like tents next to the castle and wore the clothes of that medieval period. We could wear no watches, glasses, jewellery or anything modern. Even the food we ate had to be roughly the same, hunks of bread, cheese, fruit etc.
Just before the show began, one of the young maidens from the group and I went into the castle. We climbed long stone steps which ascended to the third floor. The second floor had held the great hall, had long ago collapsed and was cordoned off. Once we reached the third floor, there was a flagstone walk past long windows. At the end of the walk, I could see a woman dresses in a teal green dress, wool, it appeared. She wore a headpiece, fitting the head, but flaring out at the sides. The sides of the hat matched her dress, but the centre of her hat was white. This woman walked back and forth staring out the window. My assumption was that she was worried about her husband who was off fighting. Then I got a really strong sense that she was worried that her husband was off somewhere with other women. My companion and I rushed through the rest of the castle, but on the bottom floor, I saw lots of people busily carrying sacks. These people were mostly men dressed in varying shades of brown. These were ghosts for there actually no living person there other than us.
At the end of all the play battles, I sat with a few young squires (knights in waiting) and mentioned the female spirit I had seen. Mark looked at me and said, ”You are giving me shivers. Do you know the history of the castle?”
I admitted that I didn’t. There were no signs or legends anywhere. Mark proceeded to tell me that King Edward II of England had built the castle in 1100 A.D. Edward had married some Spanish or Portuguese princess. Edward’s wife had basically had Edward tortured and killed for being unfaithful. I could not listen to those details. Anyway, her son imprisoned her in the castle for 30 years for killing his father. I did not see her when she was imprisoned for 30 years, only when she was worried. Spirits often get stuck in traumatic events as did she. I saw and heard a lot of spirits in England.
When I came back to Canada, My living window had a green plastic garbage bag taped to it. There was a huge hole where someone had smashed my window in the middle of the night. My two daughters living at home did not really know who had done this. Since this was now the beginning of September, I needed to get my window fixed. It took almost two months and the weather was getting chilly.
One day in November, I sat with my back to the tv set and heard that a young boy had been stabbed to death at a house party not too far from where I lived. I made a mental note to ask my daughters if they knew him. Within 10 minutes, my youngest daughter came flying down the stairs, crying. As I asked her what was wrong, I could see a young teenager building up a few feet away. My daughter told me that a boy she knew had been killed. I asked if he matched the description I could now see in my family room. Then this young kid told me he was sorry he had broken my living room window. I told my daughter and she blurted out. ‘I always wondered if he did it.” This was not the end of this boy whom I had never met, nor was it the last apology I had received from the departed.
Life is stranger than fiction, but fiction often comes from life.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
REINCARNATION
Have you ever found yourself interested in other countries, time periods or languages? Reincarnation is a fact with many countries in the world. That is not to say that those people that know remember lives. Children are the ones who can remember details and as parents we often put it down to a great imagination.
Where do think young genius comes from? It could be a talent developed in a past life and remembered on an unconscious level. Why would I have only one life which has been great, when another may be born crippled or blind or deaf?
When I was married to my first husband Bruce, we both enjoyed historical drams. He enjoyed watching the lives of royalty while I was fascinated with the women working in the taverns. When I began waitressing (while still married), I took to it like a duck to water.
When I cast a chart, I can always see past lives which have much to do with likes, dislikes and personality traits. While attending the University of Calgary in the 80’s, I saw past lives superimposed on every new person I met. That lasted for a year and a half, these images came unbidden. My friends would eagerly wait for my impressions.
One woman, Anita, who was obtaining her B.Ed brought two images when I met her for the first time. There was a man , dressed in nondescript brown clothing who had been stoned for speaking his mind and left for dead. The other was a woman from a harem. I told Anita that the reason she never gave her opinion was the stoning and her love of beautiful clothing and style came from the harem life. When Anita had her chart done, I gave her more details.
A client in the group homes I worked in was very loud and talked about writing a book about the west. I saw him as a gunslinger who pretty much took care of anyone without much thought about it. In this life, his father was long gone and his mother had very tenuous ties to him. I did see that he was responsible for her death in the gunslinger life. Unconsciously, David’s mother had been very hard on him as a child and had beaten him saying she could not deal with him.
Another client Emma was autistic and non-verbal. Whenever Emma was upset ( very easy for her), she would bite her own arms so that her arms were always red and rashy looking. Emma’s mother left Edmonton, so Emma very rarely saw her Mom. I saw Emma (in a past life) as a member of a royal family, a spoiled member. In that life, Emma would beat and hit anyone who came within striking distance, if she was displeased. Now she was hampered by her own reflexes and beating herself.
Everything comes back on us and I, for one, want it to be the good stuff.
Whatever I hand out gets returned, tenfold. Do I want to be constantly angry or consistently happy? Blaming outside influences will get me nowhere, so I choose not to do the angry dance.
Illnesses can often appear as a result of past lives or negative attitudes such as guilt, anger or shame. Boy oh boy we can all carry a lot of those. Send love to everyone you like and dislike. Don’t carry the negativity with you. It will weigh you down and make you sick.
Judgements are for the birds, they can cause you to temporarily feel better when you assume the judgement position, but eventually you will be judging more and more and tolerating less and less. We need to cut each other some slack since we can’t walk a mile in each other’s shoes in this life. If I have a hard time liking anyone who is Asian, brown, black, gay, Moslem, Hindu, Indian, fat etc., guess what? You will be exactly what you can’t stand in another life. Watch your words and your thoughts. Love is all there is, for a great life.
Where do think young genius comes from? It could be a talent developed in a past life and remembered on an unconscious level. Why would I have only one life which has been great, when another may be born crippled or blind or deaf?
When I was married to my first husband Bruce, we both enjoyed historical drams. He enjoyed watching the lives of royalty while I was fascinated with the women working in the taverns. When I began waitressing (while still married), I took to it like a duck to water.
When I cast a chart, I can always see past lives which have much to do with likes, dislikes and personality traits. While attending the University of Calgary in the 80’s, I saw past lives superimposed on every new person I met. That lasted for a year and a half, these images came unbidden. My friends would eagerly wait for my impressions.
One woman, Anita, who was obtaining her B.Ed brought two images when I met her for the first time. There was a man , dressed in nondescript brown clothing who had been stoned for speaking his mind and left for dead. The other was a woman from a harem. I told Anita that the reason she never gave her opinion was the stoning and her love of beautiful clothing and style came from the harem life. When Anita had her chart done, I gave her more details.
A client in the group homes I worked in was very loud and talked about writing a book about the west. I saw him as a gunslinger who pretty much took care of anyone without much thought about it. In this life, his father was long gone and his mother had very tenuous ties to him. I did see that he was responsible for her death in the gunslinger life. Unconsciously, David’s mother had been very hard on him as a child and had beaten him saying she could not deal with him.
Another client Emma was autistic and non-verbal. Whenever Emma was upset ( very easy for her), she would bite her own arms so that her arms were always red and rashy looking. Emma’s mother left Edmonton, so Emma very rarely saw her Mom. I saw Emma (in a past life) as a member of a royal family, a spoiled member. In that life, Emma would beat and hit anyone who came within striking distance, if she was displeased. Now she was hampered by her own reflexes and beating herself.
Everything comes back on us and I, for one, want it to be the good stuff.
Whatever I hand out gets returned, tenfold. Do I want to be constantly angry or consistently happy? Blaming outside influences will get me nowhere, so I choose not to do the angry dance.
Illnesses can often appear as a result of past lives or negative attitudes such as guilt, anger or shame. Boy oh boy we can all carry a lot of those. Send love to everyone you like and dislike. Don’t carry the negativity with you. It will weigh you down and make you sick.
Judgements are for the birds, they can cause you to temporarily feel better when you assume the judgement position, but eventually you will be judging more and more and tolerating less and less. We need to cut each other some slack since we can’t walk a mile in each other’s shoes in this life. If I have a hard time liking anyone who is Asian, brown, black, gay, Moslem, Hindu, Indian, fat etc., guess what? You will be exactly what you can’t stand in another life. Watch your words and your thoughts. Love is all there is, for a great life.
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