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Abstract

in that state of half-sleep when you’re just within a hair’s breadth of sleep. She was standing across the room with her arms crossed, looking at my calendar that hung on the wall. She did not look like my grandmother, but that is who I knew her to be. She looked like a much younger woman with long brown hair drawn up into a ponytail. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them, she was still there. I squeezed my eyes shut again, and then she was gone.In the morning, I told my mother that I’d seen Grandma. What I expected my mother to say was that I’d probably eaten something that caused me to have a nightmare. She didn’t say that.She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Well, I guess you did.” That was when she told me that her mother had been psychic. And it was the first time in my life that somebody didn’t tell me I was crazy.People were always telling me I was nuts or crazy. It wasn’t about things that go bump in the night, it was everything. After a while, I expected it. I got very quiet, which was easy to do in a houseful of five kids. I didn’t have that many friends. A few, but when you move as much as my family did (picture this: 13 schools in 12 years), those friendships burned bright and heartbreakingly short. As I got older, people would cock their heads and say to me, “What made you say that?” I always said I didn’t know.I remember when I was in the 10th grade, a fellow student who was an upperclassman and would normally not ever talk to the likes of me said, “You know things.” It seemed he was being mysterious, but I remember it when Taylor said that.But I’ve been wondering why I can’t see ghosts on a normal basis. I have a feeling it’s like radio waves or frequencies. I just can’t perceive it that way. I can hear up a storm and talk to lots of people and animals and other things in Spirit, but I can’t seem to talk to ghosts.Oh, there’s another time I ran into a ghost. It was on a staircase of an old Victorian home in Alameda. The residents said the place was haunted and wanted my impression. As I was walking up the staircase, I heard, “My house. My house. My house.” Folk in spirit don’t talk like that

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. That’s why I figured it was a ghost. There was a sense of urgency and of anger.Maybe that’s what was missing was the emotional element. Somebody in Spirit just touched their finger to their nose. I don’t see much, normally, but sometimes I can catch a movement. They do that when I’ve got something right or wrong. I’ll get a thumbs up or a thumbs down or somebody pinching their nose if what I thought of was a smelly idea and they want to give me a quick, “Well, that stinks.”I remember once a person, I think it was Wayne Dwyer, said if you want to be psychic, go hang around a bunch of psychics because it’s contagious.Maybe I ought to go up to the cemetery where my husband used to work and hang around there. One of them stopped by while Dennis and I were finalizing our funeral arrangements (yes, we did that before we needed to. We don’t have kids or family near, and it needed to be done.) and asked me to tell the guy who was helping us that they were very happy with things. I didn’t see anything, but I did hear it. I passed on the message, and the guy told me that particular conference room has a lot of ghost visitations and the message is pretty much the same every time: they are happy. And, of course, there was the time when my husband was doing something in one of the crypts (big fancy mausoleum type) and sensed that somebody was sitting in the chair behind him. When he turned to look, there was nobody in the chair, but his phone was on the floor. He’d left it on the chair. And, he got a big case of the willies.So, yes, I know ghosts are out there, and I have experienced them a bit. I don’t think they are anybody to be afraid of. For all I know, that’s just another place to stop before you get to Heaven.I remember shortly after I learned to channel, my spirit guide told me I was going to get very quiet. He was right.Thanks for reading. If you’d like to become a member at Medium, please consider using <a href="https://pmevanosky.medium.com/membership">my affiliate link</a> to join us. You will be supporting me a little bit, and after you’ve got 100 followers, you can monetize what you write too.</article></body>

I’ve Been Thinking About Ghosts

Maybe I Should Keep My Eyes Open

I am a psychic channel. I talk to Spirit Guides, to teachers, to people who are dead. I talk to movie stars who have passed. It’s an everyday thing for me. I’m used to it. I’ve been doing it since 1993.

But I very rarely have any interactions with ghosts.

I saw one once. Or at least it was a dark presence in a room lit only by streetlamps. At the foot of my bed, I knew it to be death. As tall as a 12-foot Christmas tree and shaped like one. How? I don’t know. It was years before I would be channeling. I was 18 years old, and I knew it was death, and if I didn’t get my act together, it was coming for me. Did I talk to it? Hell no. Did it talk to me? It did not have to say a thing. I got the message. Shortly after that, I stopped doing drugs. They had served their purpose anyway.

What the hell kind of purpose does taking drugs serve? They altered my reality. Easily. But that particular path lay death and soon too, I thought. So, I quit. My husband helped me too. It was years later that I learned that people talked to spirit, and I thought to myself, “Why couldn’t I do that too?”

So, yeah, my life is a little like being on drugs all the time without actually being on drugs. Did I also tell you I’m an alcoholic? Yeah, that too. I haven’t had a drink in so long I can’t even remember. I know I stopped after I learned to channel, so maybe peg that date at 25 years ago. I’m guessing, but it was so long that I can’t remember exactly when it was.

So, yes, if that was a ghost, I saw in Munich I saw it. I sure know it wasn’t Santa Claus.

There was also the time years before that when I saw my grandmother, who had been dead for at least six years. She didn’t say anything either. I was in that state of half-sleep when you’re just within a hair’s breadth of sleep. She was standing across the room with her arms crossed, looking at my calendar that hung on the wall. She did not look like my grandmother, but that is who I knew her to be. She looked like a much younger woman with long brown hair drawn up into a ponytail. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them, she was still there. I squeezed my eyes shut again, and then she was gone.

In the morning, I told my mother that I’d seen Grandma. What I expected my mother to say was that I’d probably eaten something that caused me to have a nightmare. She didn’t say that.

She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Well, I guess you did.” That was when she told me that her mother had been psychic. And it was the first time in my life that somebody didn’t tell me I was crazy.

People were always telling me I was nuts or crazy. It wasn’t about things that go bump in the night, it was everything. After a while, I expected it. I got very quiet, which was easy to do in a houseful of five kids. I didn’t have that many friends. A few, but when you move as much as my family did (picture this: 13 schools in 12 years), those friendships burned bright and heartbreakingly short. As I got older, people would cock their heads and say to me, “What made you say that?” I always said I didn’t know.

I remember when I was in the 10th grade, a fellow student who was an upperclassman and would normally not ever talk to the likes of me said, “You know things.” It seemed he was being mysterious, but I remember it when Taylor said that.

But I’ve been wondering why I can’t see ghosts on a normal basis. I have a feeling it’s like radio waves or frequencies. I just can’t perceive it that way. I can hear up a storm and talk to lots of people and animals and other things in Spirit, but I can’t seem to talk to ghosts.

Oh, there’s another time I ran into a ghost. It was on a staircase of an old Victorian home in Alameda. The residents said the place was haunted and wanted my impression. As I was walking up the staircase, I heard, “My house. My house. My house.” Folk in spirit don’t talk like that. That’s why I figured it was a ghost. There was a sense of urgency and of anger.

Maybe that’s what was missing was the emotional element. Somebody in Spirit just touched their finger to their nose. I don’t see much, normally, but sometimes I can catch a movement. They do that when I’ve got something right or wrong. I’ll get a thumbs up or a thumbs down or somebody pinching their nose if what I thought of was a smelly idea and they want to give me a quick, “Well, that stinks.”

I remember once a person, I think it was Wayne Dwyer, said if you want to be psychic, go hang around a bunch of psychics because it’s contagious.

Maybe I ought to go up to the cemetery where my husband used to work and hang around there. One of them stopped by while Dennis and I were finalizing our funeral arrangements (yes, we did that before we needed to. We don’t have kids or family near, and it needed to be done.) and asked me to tell the guy who was helping us that they were very happy with things. I didn’t see anything, but I did hear it. I passed on the message, and the guy told me that particular conference room has a lot of ghost visitations and the message is pretty much the same every time: they are happy. And, of course, there was the time when my husband was doing something in one of the crypts (big fancy mausoleum type) and sensed that somebody was sitting in the chair behind him. When he turned to look, there was nobody in the chair, but his phone was on the floor. He’d left it on the chair. And, he got a big case of the willies.

So, yes, I know ghosts are out there, and I have experienced them a bit. I don’t think they are anybody to be afraid of. For all I know, that’s just another place to stop before you get to Heaven.

I remember shortly after I learned to channel, my spirit guide told me I was going to get very quiet. He was right.

Thanks for reading. If you’d like to become a member at Medium, please consider using my affiliate link to join us. You will be supporting me a little bit, and after you’ve got 100 followers, you can monetize what you write too.