moving on

At some point, you just have to.

It's storming outside, and I love nothing better than a good storm. I think there is nothing more cleansing than a great storm, washing away stagnant energy.

I always seem to be surrounded by stagnant energy. It's the kind of energy that surrounds you when you are refusing to see what is in front of you, when you are refusing to make a change in your life that seems to be nothing but the inevitable. It's like avoiding the obvious. With blinders.

I've had many experiences in my life that have lead me to paganism. And many more that have done nothing other than confirm my beliefs. I was always a very intuitive child, curious and assertive. I remember understanding situations more than I should have, at a very young age. I always had a sense of knowing, and was told many times that I have an 'old soul'. Even by people that I had never met before. Even at the age of 10 I could sit with a group of adults, content having conversations with them about things that were usually of little interest to young children.

I've met some interesting people in my travels. I think about the people that have come into my life, some very temporarily...maybe meeting them once or twice. I think that each person we meet in our lives is someone meant to be there, even for that short period of time. It was a random person I met one time that told me about astral projecting...something I've been known to do on occasion. There was another that described to me what an empath is, and how they knew that was where my abilities lie.

EMPATH: a person who can feel the emotions of other animate (living) entities, such as human, plant or animal. Some include inanimate objects as well under this word.

I think when I was heavy into palm reading this is the reason I did so well. Not necessarily that I read palms as much as I read people. I was such a strong empath at one point that it is actually what caused me to astral project. Maybe I'll tell that story first. It's the most clear cut one that started the path that lead me to study and learn paganism.

When I was 14, the summer before my freshman year in high school, I picked blueberries as a 'job'. It was my first job. My best friend Sara started it, and convinced me to do it with her. I went to my parents, who told me that I wouldn't last a week, let alone the whole summer. My parents knew me too well (or they really thought I wouldn't make it) because boy did I have to prove them wrong! I'd get up at 5:15 AM, walk 15 blocks to the bus stop, and ride 2 different buses up to Leaburg where I picked blueberries from 7 am until 3:30 pm. Then 2 more bus rides home, another 15 block walk, and I'd get home at 5. I did this every day...all summer. (except the one day that I missed for being stung by a bee....my foot was so swollen!)
But I digress...

So this one night, probably around mid-july, I had what I thought was a crazy dream. In my dream I am sitting in a tree, formless, watching the side of a house. I was facing towards the back yard, and could see inside a window of the house. Inside the window all I could see was what I assumed to be a little girl sleeping, because I saw blonde pigtails lying on a bed. That was it. I sat there for what seemed like hours, with the feeling that I was waiting for something. After a while had passed I noticed what looked like a shadow moving. It came from around the back of the house, creeping towards the window. To me it looked like one of those figures from the movie Ghost, the ones that take the 'bad guys' souls after they died.

Anyway he slinked up to the window, which was open about 2 inches. Then he turned to me, and even though it had nothing but eyes, I could feel it looking at me, and smiled at me. My formless body shivered. Not only did it see me, but it saw right through me. Then he pushed the window open, and crawled into the room. Once in the room he turned around, looked at me again, and opened the window all the way. I was really confused...why would he open it instead of closing it?

Then he turned around, and all I could see was that he laid right on top of the little girl. I gasped, and tried to make a bunch of noise, but I didn't seem to have any ability to speak or yell, or even shake the tree I was in (but not really in, if you know what I mean). I suddenly woke up, sweating, and a scream sitting in my throat. I turned to look at the time, and it was exactly 3:52 in the morning. (In some pagan sects 3 am is the true witching hour).

My heart was pounding, and I felt a bit freaked. So I laid back down and eventually was able to snooze a little bit before getting up for another day at the blueberry patch. Once Sara got on the bus I told her all about my weird 'dream'...and we both puzzled over it for a good part of the morning.

That night, instead of taking my usual shower, I sat talking to my dad while he watched the news. The news caster (Rick Dancer...who just ran for office btw) was talking about the latest in a series of rapes to happen in the Gateway area of Springfield. All I heard was something about a 7 year old girl who had been raped and almost strangled early in the morning. Then he said "Around 3:30-4 am her parents were woken up by a strange sound outside. They thought it was the girls cat wanting in, but when her mother opened the girls bedroom door she was shocked to find a man on her daughters bed strangling her. She yelled something at him, and he literally flew out the window. The 7 year old is in serious but stable condition at Mckenzie-Willamette Hospital". I just stared at the tv, unbelieving. And then...they showed a school picture of the little girl (why...I don't know).

She had blonde hair and pigtails.

I sat down hard. And just stared. Then I made some weird excuse to my dad and went to take my shower. Covered in blueberries I freaked out in the shower, knowing it was more than a coincidence. I called my friend Sara, who decided we needed to do some research on it. And we did.

This was also the same period of time that my mom was 'church shopping'. Meaning that we would go to random churches so that she could try them on for size. I went to youth leaders, pastors, whoever you name it, and told my stories. The most I got was "It was nothing, forget about it" or "It was god's will". For a (I'd like to consider myself) smart 14 year old, that was all just a bunch of crap. Sara and I were already dabbling in candle magic, and getting ourselves into more than we knew, but could not figure it out. I still didn't, until I was 18 and graduated from high school. I worked late nights at Taco Bell, and had a frequent customer who would come in and chat with me (some weird older guy), who asked me one day about my religious background. I told him that I knew little about the bible, and thought it was a crock of shit. He laughed, and asked me a few random questions that I don't remember. Somehow this story ended up coming out, and he looked at me for a minute or so, then explained what astral projection is. I was astounded, and told him that if it is true, than I've done it many times before. He told me that many people can do it on command, but others (like me) can only do it when a situation is strong enough that it calls for it.

I think that due to my background that I was such a strong empath (14 was a ROUGH age for me) and so strong that for some reason something in me picked up in something in that little girl. I can't say, and won't, that I was a reason for the situation ending, and her being safe. I think I was meant to witness what happened, knowing she wouldn't be alone. But on the other end, I think it also marked me. I've had many other experiences that have been MUCH less than pleasant, and someday when I have the balls I'll tell one of those.

Eventually I have cut off so much of my energy that it is difficult to do any empath work, let alone a palm reading. It's a lot of energy to open yourself up to others, and even more to close it down. Learning that skill is what has saved my sanity, I think. I've seen things that to me now sounds silly, but knowing full well it is anything but. I spend a lot of my time now surrounding myself, my house and my family with as much white and bright energy as I can, hoping to save those around me from the things I have seen. But I believe I am marked, and it makes me a target for many, many beings out there that are not human.

So I leave this for you, dear readers, to read into it as you wish. It's hard telling these stories, harder than I realized until now. I should say harder to type these stories, as at least in verbal communication I can gesture my meanings.

Comments and questions and stories of your own are more than welcome. Maybe someday I'll work my way up to what happened in my first apartment. That one was so bad that I didn't go home for a week, and didn't stay in there alone for a few months.

Until then, blessed be my friends.