Spiritualism – At Arms Length – Part 2

The universal vibration works from both positive and negative energy. Without one, the other doesn't exist. Generally, Spiritualist do beckon the souls who pass freely through the veil, ever mindful of the positive and negative vibrations continuously at work. These souls have attained the right to be at arms length and engage if they so choose. They bring messages and understanding to those who need it, knowledge based on our personal level of evolution (pyramid) and most importantly, validation of the souls continuation. We never forget that these parcels of pure light deserve the utmost respect - they know best. After all, they are what we'll become.

A mentor had once described the Life Force like this: Each living thing that we know is but a spec of the whole. All come into physical existence as equal, grouped by intellect (plant, animal), but must learn different lessons (hence individual trials and tribulations that make up our personal 'journey' in life). We all become contaminated by our environment, beginning at birth. Some feel the need to fight through life by way of negativity which stems from fear. Blinded by the present, they are unable to see the whole picture just yet. Others have refined their sense of purpose in life. Some immediately, some through time – a result of past lessons. No Light begins this life better than the other, its simply a matter of nurturing the soul and doing the right thing to brighten your light. It is all based on choice, awareness, respect and gratitude for all that we are, both individually and collectively.

As I repeatedly stumble, fall and get back on track, I find it tragic that there is so much ego, wrath and animosity to the point that wars are ensued in the name of religion. The Divine Force that inspires me, no mater what name we may identify It as, is not vengeful, jealous, or negative in any way. Instead, It encompasses love, light and all that is good. It has given each and every one of us many gifts within Its reflection. It is our choice to live the life we wish. It is our duty to always try to do the right thing. This Knowing has been, and always will be embedded in our souls – the part of us that never ceases to exist.

Spiritualism – At Arms Length - Part 1

A few weeks ago I decided to jump in my car and just drive. With no particular destination in mind, I relied on my inner compass. I ended up at a park peppered with people - all enjoying the simple pleasures of summer. As I pulled into a parking space I noticed a couple with their infant, standing idle while facing the sun. The fathers' head was tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed as he grinned while holding his child tightly to his chest. The mother took a similar pose standing a step behind him. They were beautifully dressed in colorful African attire. As I got out of my car, which was parked about 30 feet away, I saw the sun's golden glow drenching all three of them. I felt like an intruder as I quietly closed the car door and stood still. I was drawn in to the serenity and the graceful energy I had unexpectedly become a part of. The mother turned to me and smiled. I returned the gesture, humbled and thankful that I could witness such a beautiful moment.

I walked around the park reflecting on those few moments I had just witnessed. I thought back to my

teachings, thankful for the guidance I had been given from many wonderful people throughout my life. I saw the mental diagram of spiritual growth I've held onto for as long as I can remember. It is that of a pyramid with numerous starting points across the bottom. Each starting point represents various spiritual paths, and each path leads to the pinnacle - the Divine.

Curious, with a never ending appetite to learn, I was given the opportunity to gain more understanding of different religions in the past. I had concluded that 'organized religion' was not for me. That doesn't mean I don't respect the choices of those who do partake, it simply means that as a Spiritualist, a more direct journey towards enlightenment is more in harmony with my personal path.

Spiritualists have endured some pretty harsh criticism over the years based on outdated interpretations. The breeding ground being documented cases from a time when seances were organized by the bored and wealthy in the halls of great mansions. These trails of interpretations, and subsequent spin-offs, have left an aftertaste with mainstream society in that Spiritualists work from the dark side, employing the magic arts. The elements and practices Spiritualists use in their Light journey are used with the same intent as drinking from a chalice, praying to statues or a wearing a cross. All of which are acceptable means of worship in some organized religions. Rest assured, a true Light Worker does not work with the black arts for the key is to 'harm none'. Lets not forget Universal Law dictates that what you send out comes back.

Continued.......

Please see 'Spiritualism – At Arms Length - Part 2

Part 3 - Harpers Ferry: Ghost of John Brown

He told me my train would most likely stop on the other track since the cargo train was still sitting silent. I expressed my concern of not being able to get my gear down the stairs, through the tunnel and up the other side. He told me he would stay with me and help. I was so appreciative of his offer - more for the company than help with my luggage. I proceeded to tell him about the man in black. He walked into the restroom and came right back out to tell me there was no one in there. It was then that he told me the station is notoriously haunted, and that he believed everything I told him, as others have had similar experiences. He then told me about John Brown, he was an abolitionist who was murdered at the station. Many believe Mr. Brown has been trying to catch the outbound train ever since. 

I stood silent, digesting all that I heard, seen and felt. My attention shifted when I heard the train whistle in the distance. The bike man graciously picked up my luggage, ran down the stairs, through the tunnel, and up the stairs to a waiting conductor. I was right behind him, thinking that the man in black is missing the train. Just as quickly, I accepted the fact that he was merely visiting, for reasons I may never understand; at least in this lifetime. I wished I had paid more attention to the black cloth hanging on his arm. When we spoke to each other he was so real I could have reached out and touched him. The whole thing was as real as my present position typing this story.  On ‘paranormal overload’, I was so glad to finally get out of there, but it was bittersweet. 

When I boarded the train, I stood in the vestibule with the Conductor to catch my breath. I asked him if he had ever heard of strange stories of the Harpers Ferry Station. He said; ‘Other than it being haunted?.....ha, ha, ha. Why don’t you hang here for a bit. When you’re ready, just step in the car, put your bags to the right. There’s a seat in the back.’.  

When I finally entered the car, I noticed a man in the back starring at me. I ended up sitting across from him. He was making small talk and noticed I was a little shaken up when I boarded. I briefed him on my experience and he replied; ‘It seems you had a run in with ole’ John Brown!’. His name was Edward, an historian who was returning from a research trip to Chicago. We had a wonderful conversation all the way to DC. It never ceases to amaze me how events connect to each other. What are the chances of being seated next to a historian immediately after my experience?  Edward had put my mind at ease.  I now know I experienced the presence of John Brown. Knowing such a ballsy ghost is one of the visitors there, I doubt I will ever choose to wait there alone again. 

Days after my return, the thought of Mr. John Brown lingered. I decided to do more research. When I finally came across a photo of him, it felt as if the photo jumped off the screen toward me. I immediately saw the man in black who walked into the front of the station. He was a younger version of the man in the photo. Coincidence?.....perhaps; but it was a personal experience I will never forget; one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments. One that I wish another living person could have witnessed with me, but apparently that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Part 2- Harpers Ferry: Ghost of John Brown

Concerned, I went to the door of the mens restroom and I tapped on the door... no response. I then opened the door to be sure whoever was in there didn’t faint, or worse. When I opened the door and looked around, no one was there! I know what I heard. It was clear and real. Whoever entered that restroom could not have exited without me noticing. My mind raced to put the little chain of events in order. At that moment, I knew what was happening. I grabbed my luggage and hightailed it out one of the doors on the track side, refusing to go back into the building. 

I sat on a bench staring at the tracks, which were about 8 feet in front of me, trying to make sense of what just happened. I was getting chilly so I opened the station door to catch some warm air from inside while I stood beneath the door frame. Just then, a man dressed all in black entered through the door directly across from me on the front side of the station. I remember he had some kind of cloth hanging on his left forearm. We acknowledged each others presence. “Do you know a documentary is being filmed in town?” he asked. ‘Yes’ I replied. I asked him if he was going to DC. “Yes. Are you?” he whispered, as he visually scanned the ceiling.  I don’t recall answering him. I just kept looking at his face. He was strange in that he kept looking around, never making eye contact. He was looking at the ceilings and floors while he slowly paced. He walked into the restroom while I remained in the doorway. I thought it odd that he had no luggage, no computer bag, nothing. Suddenly, a cargo train crept by on the track closest to the station (there are only two tracks). The engine must have been a mile up the track before it came to a complete halt. Now I had a wall of train in front of me and still no people. That eerie feeling got heavier. It felt like time was standing still....literally. There was a dead silence all around me; I couldn’t even hear the birds any longer. I kept waiting for the man to exit the restroom. By this time, I was expecting the train in 15 minutes or so. I was trying to figure out how I would haul my huge piece of luggage which was more like a duffle bag on wheels, down the stairs through a short underground tunnel and up the other side before my train took off. The wall of steel that now sat between the other track and myself made it impossible to see another train coming. The landing on the other side was in the woods and too small to wait on, so heading over ahead of time made no sense.  Suddenly, a lone bicyclist peddled up to the bench and dismounted his bike. Still a bit shaken from my earlier experience I remained standing in the doorway, but at this point, it wasn’t just for warmth. I was watching closely for the man in black to exit the restroom. The man on the bike began to talk to me. I must have looked confused because he asked me if I was okay. I asked him if he was real....he chuckled. I then gave him an earful of what had been happening during the past two plus hours. He seemed to be impervious to my story. 

Continue on ‘Part 3’.......

Harpers Ferry: Ghost of John Brown

It’s been a long time since I experienced a profound paranormal occurrence while completely alone. That changed on morning in late October 2011. 

After a long visit with family, I arrived at the Harpers Ferry train station in West Virginia to head back north. It was a Thursday morning and a gorgeous one at that. As we were driving through, we had passed camera crews about half mile away from the station. After inquiring, we learned it was a crew filming a documentary about the town. When I was dropped off at the station, I realized I was the only person there, so I stepped outside by the tracks to see if there were any signs of human life in surrounding area. A veil of eeriness draped around me when I discovered there was not a single person in sight. I shrugged it off to appreciate the silence as I took in the beautiful scenery. Past the bridge, the mountains surrounding the valley were waking up to the warmth of the sun. I walked along the linear path between the tracks and the station, imagining what it was like years ago. I caught myself dismissing flashes of gun fire, reminiscent of the wild west, and stuck with the romantic version.

It wasn’t my first visit to this quaint little town soaked in history, or the unmanned, well preserved train station. There’s something mysterious and isolating about that place. One could not help but to fall in love with it. The many times I had visited Harpers Ferry, the man who helped to put the area on the map seemed to have slipped my mind. I was always so caught up in the magic of the town.

Since I my train wasn’t scheduled to arrive for another hour or so, I meandered around the beautifully preserved station while time stood still. I was admiring a collection of old photo’s hanging on the walls depicting the surrounding valley when the station was built. I walked from one room to the next, noticing the echo of my steps while running my fingers along the old wood benches. I couldn’t help but visualize dapper gents tipping their hats to ladies with parasols in hand. For a brief moment I became one of them.

About 45 minutes had passed with nothing to do but wait. I was trying to peek through the bars at the old ticket counter. It was closed for business many years ago. The room behind the counter was hidden by black fabric. A hand painted sign, written in gold script, that reads “Tickets”  had only a few minor scratches and faded spots. I decided to check out the restroom. While I was in there, I heard one of the outside doors open. I then heard the sound of heeled boots clanking across the wood floor. I was glad to finally have some company! Still in the rest room with my hands underneath the running water, the footsteps were getting closer. I then heard the door to the mens restroom, which is adjacent to the women’s room, squeak open then thud shut. I proceeded to the waiting area near the restrooms and phoned the train company to see if the train was running on time. Low and behold, there was at least an hour delay!  About 20 minutes went by. While still in the immediate vicinity of the restrooms, it dawned on me that the person who went in never came out! I noticed my cell phone battery, which was fully charged when I called the train company 20 minutes earlier, was almost dead. 

Continue on ‘Part 2’.........