That Time I Picked Up a Stray from Another Dimension.
Adventures in Astral Traveling
Let me start by saying I’ve done some weird shit in the name of seeking enlightenment or at least a deeper understanding of who I am, why I’m here, why any of us are here, and WTF “here” is.
I’ve never not believed that anything is possible.
I’ve explored all things occult, woo woo, meta and quantum physics, and everything in between (I’ve made entire movies about it). When my second child was born, and I was searching for a way to get more sleep while still being able to check in on both my kids, a friend suggested astral travel.
Wow, imagine if every mom was taught this, our kids would never be lost again!
The idea was that I already have a psychic tether to my children; as they have become teenagers, this is often a blessing or a curse to them. So, using that “tether,” I could find them easily in the ethers and check in by using a technique called astral traveling, which is basically like having an out-of-body experience, where you are consciously able to direct what you do, where you go, etc.
I traveled a lot for work and sometimes find settling down after a long day’s work to feel into my kids hard. I’d go into meditation seeking to find them, but that was challenging with my monkey mind racing. So, I decided I would “build an airport” in my mind and use it as a way to drop into the brainwave needed to leave my body, fly to wherever they were, and make sure they were still breathing.
I swear I’m not a helicopter mom, just your usual: the world is a weird place, paranoid mom.
For some, astral traveling is as easy as turning on (or off) a light switch. For me, any meditation takes a minute and some mind trickery. So, my airport was elaborately built with tunnels. I never actually got on a plane; ironically, I hate to fly. I would enter a tunnel, and poof, I would come out right where my kids were, check-in, and then be back in a flash. My travels never lasted more than 5–10 minutes. This took me a very long time to perfect, but then it worked like a charm.
Right as the pandemic was lifting and we were beginning to make our way out into the world again, I started seeing a man who lived about two hours from me. Most of the time, he would go to my neck of the woods, book a hotel, and we’d have an amazing time together. Then he would leave, and I would go back to my house, which was only a block or two away from the hotel we rendezvoused at. The airport was never needed for these trysts, the tether wasn’t stretched to its limit.
One weekend, he convinced me to come to him. My kids were both well into their teens and used to me traveling, so I figured a weekend away was exactly what I needed, so off I went.
We had a great day exploring his downtown, had an amazing meal, lots of wine, and mind-blowing sex, and then it was time to sleep. As I lay my head down on the pillow, a little pang pinged my heart, and I missed my kids. Save for the few one-nighters with this new dude in my hood, I hadn’t been away from my kids in a long while; a pandemic will do that.
Oh, I thought, I’ll pop over through the airport and make sure all is right in their world. I closed my eyes, began to visualize my airport, found the right tunnel, popped through, saw them all snuggled and safely sleeping, turned around, and headed back. Easy Peasy. It was like riding a bike.
As I begin to emerge from my tunnel, I realize I’m hearing a voice shouting…no screaming my name.
“Betsy”…. “Betsy”…
I look around, and I don’t see anyone, and I remember, wait, I am at this dude’s house, maybe he’s screaming my name…I bolt upwards in fright to find him snoozing happily beside me in that post “I just got laid” glow only a dude can emit.
I still hear the shrills of my name echoing through my mind, or is it in my mind?
“Betsy!!!!!”… “Betsy!!!!!!”
Suddenly, the dude sits up in bed, looks around, and finds me sitting up. He asks if I am ok.
“Yeah, I’m ok…um…do you hear that?” He’s confused at first, and then…
“Betsy!!!!”
His eyes widen, and he asks “Why is there someone screaming your name outside my apartment? Is it your ex-husband? A boyfriend? Do I need to get a weapon?”
“Betsy!!!”
I shook my head and laughed, which was awkward. “No, I don’t know why someone is outside your apartment screaming my name.”
He gets out of bed and peaks through the blinds, cocks his head, and turns to me slowly.
“Betsy, why is the crazy homeless man who lives in the alley behind my building standing outside my window screaming your name?”
I needed a minute to think about this. Why would a crazy homeless man be screaming my name? And then it hits me. This isn’t a crazy man, this is someone who probably hangs out in random airports in the ethers looking for fellow travelers! I don’t recall meeting him, but you know things can get fuzzy when you’re leaving your body and astral traveling across dimensions. So, maybe I did.
I gasped with a new understanding of the situation and exclaimed, “I need to go back!”
“Go back where?” This poor, unassuming man, feet firmly grounded in only the reality he perceives as human, asks in utter bewilderment.
“I’ll explain later,” I say, lay down, close my eyes, and start the process all over again. I can feel my lover hovering over me, baffled as all hell.
I have no luck with my airport and the voice is gone. I pretend just to be asleep because I’m not sure I have the capacity to explain astral travel to this guy I’m just getting to know at 3 a.m. after a long night of sex and wine.
When we awake, I decide to wait until he brings it up, which he doesn’t, and I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad omen. He suggests we go to breakfast before I make my way home. This tells me he pretty much wants me to leave, but he isn’t capable of saying that. We had planned on spending the day together, so I guess breakfast was his way of ensuring I didn’t curse him or go batshit crazy on him in his apartment.
He lived downtown, and the breakfast joint was on the corner of his building. I put my things in my car, another of his ideas, so I didn’t have to come all the way up again…this man was taking all the precautions. Honestly, I don’t blame him. It’s what happens when people like me try to date civilians.
We sit down at an outside table close to the street and order. Making stupid small talk because we both know this is over. I could have let him off the hook, but I was hungry and wouldn’t miss a free Eggs Benedict just because I could astral travel and he couldn’t.
The food arrives, and as the plates hit the table, I hear a familar voice call out my name. The homeless man shoots across the street and stands on the other side of the wall. Elated to have found me.
I look at him, the dude looks at him, he looks at my Eggs Benedict. I look at the dude, back to my plate, and then to the homeless man. “Are you hungry?” Before he answers, I hand him my plate, a fork, and a napkin and say, “Bon Appetite.”
I get up from the table, take one last glance at the dude, and say, “Well, that was fun; I bet you’ll never top this.” And I walked out of the restaurant.
I never saw the dude again, and I’ve never picked up any other strays in my astral travels. But it did offer me more understanding of why random people talk to me out in the world, why homeless people often will make direct eye contact with me, and why I always smile back and rarely feel afraid. I see them. They know it, and I like that they see me.
Betsy Chasse is a best-selling writer and film maker. Please follow her for more wonderful adventures and a heads-up on great new projects coming soon. Also please follow this publication, Beyond Religion: Soul Journey. We are looking for great true stories of supernatural events. Let us know if you’d like to be an author here.
