“Doppelganger, the Ghostly double of a Living Person”

'Ask the Fringe Dweller' Blog Question for Monica Holy author of 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'Submitted on 2010/01/30 at 6:09 pm

Dear Monica,

I’m in the middle of reading your book and thought you might be just the person to answer my question.


There have been times when people who knew me very well and would not have mistaken my identity said that they saw me someplace or that I visited them. These visits were visual only, I never spoke to them when they occurred.

The only time that I know of when I spoke during one of these encounters was when I called on the telephone and asked to speak to my grandmother, but once she got on the phone I didn’t speak to her.

Can you please explain this phenomenon to me? Does it have a name?

Thank you, S.M.S.


Excerpt of painting 'Grey Wolf' by Psychic, artist Monica Holy, author of 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'Hello S.M.S.,

I haven’t had this experience, however the following explanation may apply.

The term Doppelganger refers to the ghostly double of a living person, one that may haunt the living originator. It comes from the German word Doppelgaenger meaning ‘double-goer’. There are several theories surrounding the appearance of one.

Some believe only the originator can see their Doppelganger while others feel they can be seen by anyone who knows the originator. The other theory is that it is an omen, a sign. Apparently they’re not common, but several cases have been documented, novelist Guy de Maupassant being one example.

In Sylvia Browne’s book  Phenomenon: Everything You Need to Know About the Paranormal , a handy book of Paranormal definitions, Sylvia writes about her personal experience with her ghostly double. She also offers ideas on Astral experiences and why our Spirits are capable of bi-location, however that is too big of a subject to begin here. As for astral experiences such as bi-location, the variety, their names and definitions, I suggest the book Astral Dynamics: A New Approach to Out-Of-Body Experiences by Robert Bruce. He goes into depth how these Out-of-Body experiences differ.

I hope this information offers a starting point for further research. Good luck, and safe travels!

Sincerely, the Fringe Dweller

 


A Visitation from my Mom’s Ghost

Nicole Chayka is the co-author of the paranormal book 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'Grieving is a hard process to negotiate even if you do believe in Reincarnation.  Even if you do believe in Spirit Guides, Visitations, Fringe Dwellers and the After life. Grieving can take a hell of a lot out of you. In my life I’ve said goodbye to all my grandparents, parents, god parents and my oldest childhood friend.  That’s a whole lotta grieving.

I think its natural for people to want to make contact with their loved ones on the Other Side.  We know we’ll be reunited ‘one day’ but meanwhile we’d still like the occasional visit, the check in, just to say ‘hey’,  just to let us know they’re alright.

I was fortunate to have had the relationship I did with my Mother.  We were as contrary as two people could be.  If she said black I’d say white.  If she said she couldn’t, I’d say she could if only she would choose to. We were opposite ends of the same pole. We fought as only a mother and daughter can, but in the end, at the end of the day we knew we loved each other.

I remember once going to visit her and about 3 hours into our weekend turning to her and saying, “You drive me nuts. You will understand if I tell you that I love you like crazy and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, but I can only handle being around you for about an hour before going stark raving mad!”  Luckily she laughed, and responded that she understood, because she felt exactly the same way.  We had an odd relationship my Mother and I, but I never doubted her love for me or vice verse.

When Mom was diagnosed with multiple Myeloma she was told by her oncologist that this form of cancer was so rare she stood a better chance of winning a lottery than having this disease.  As was Mom’s custom to think negatively she said, “That’s my luck, my lottery.  If it weren’t for bad luck I’d have none at all.”   Of course the movie ‘The Secret’ wasn’t out yet and any talk of ‘creating your reality’ was not a topic I could broach with her. When I tried we fought.  It was MY life lesson to learn to let go.  To let go trying to save her from her negative thinking and just ‘be’ with her as she went through this difficult time in her life.  Letting someone ‘have at’ their negativity is a particularly tough one for me to swallow as I’m a fighter and don’t do victim third Chakra issues.  Playing the victim has always rubbed me the wrong way which is precisely the reason I reincarnated as this woman’s child no doubt (lol).  Nonetheless, I loved her fiercely and it was one of the hardest things I will ever do to have simply been present, and bare witness over the last ten weeks of her life.  Her mind slipped away as the toxins filled her body and the morphine barely kept the pain at bay.  She eventually elapsed into her first tongue as a French Canadian. That is when she would speak at all.

There were moments of lucidity.

One of those precious moments I made sure to ask her to do something for me.  I asked her to promise to pay me a visitation after she passed just to let me know that where ever she was, she was ok.

A promise is not something she would give she said, as she didn’t know what waited for her on the Other Side, and so she didn’t want to promise something she didn’t know if she could deliver on.  She had always been a woman of her word, and since she did not give it lightly she would not do so now.  However, with a little grin and mischief in her eyes she did say that we all knew how stubborn she was, and if there was a way, she would find it.

My Mother passed two days before her birthday on Feb. 19th and fulfilled her non-promise to me on my birthday that same year, April 23rd.

It was somewhere in the wee hours around 3-4am when I woke to stumble from the couch towards my bedroom.  In that half sleep state I was on auto pilot groping for familiar landmarks so that I wouldn’t have to open my eyes when my Mother’s voice  filled both my head and the room.

“Happy Birthday Sweetheart” was all she said.

My eyes jerked open as I felt the essence of her pass through the room and instantly my knees hit the floor, tears falling freely I answered.

“I heard you mom loud and clear. You got through. You found a way. Thank you.”

So if you ask me about the after life, of this I have no doubt.  Thank you Mom, and thank you for my second visit too.

Namaste Nicole

 


Paranormal Activity

Nicole Chayka is the co-author of the paranormal book 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'I’m going to reach into the vault of my childhood and share a little about growing up with a Fringe Dweller .  Our childhood was wicked cool and if only my sense of humor was as developed then as it is now I would have enjoyed it that much more.  Unfortunately I spent more time shitting my pants than having a good time.  On the flip side I did learn how to get stains outof my clothing, a very important skill come college.

Adolescence was a barrage of Telekinetic activity.   As if being a teenage comic book nerd isn’t bad enough there were all the secrets we felt we had to keep from the adult population.  At least we had each other.  Nonetheless, electronics had a way of blowing up when Monica blew her cool.  Furthermore was the ongoing more mainstream psychic slash mediumship stuff.  She saw and heard Ghosts, I felt them as surely as bats have sonar.  Telepathy was ongoing as we regularly burst into whatever song was playing in the other person’s head.  On a daily basis there was always some little thing such as stepping into the elevator of the apartment where I lived and telling the other occupant that we were going to the same floor as them, even though they hadn’t selected the floor yet.  That was every day.  That was usual.  One of my all time favorite stories involved a Premonition which still never ceases to thrill me.  I’m glad that it never gets old.

My father had inexplicably built the family home over top the area where formerly a barn had existed and subsequently burnt to the ground.  (of course you know where this is going.) Yes, some people had died in it and naturally our house was haunted but not in a bad way.  There was a young boy, ever the trickster, playing pranks and hiding our stuff. We came to accept this, and occasionally sternly insisted he return the objects to where we had left them (which he did).  There was also a man, presumably his father, who would look for him asking if we had seen the boy.  Monica’s first night sleeping over at my place was quite the game of hide and seek as the boy snuck into my room, index finger pressed to his lips insisting we not rat him out, followed by a man asking us if we had seen where the boy went.  Back in the day neither of us had any experience communicating with spirits and/or pointing them towards the light so it didn’t occur to us to send them packing.  For the most part they were harmless.  A pain in the ‘keester’ at times, but harmless until one prank went too far. As I said before we went out of our way to appear normal and anything that highlighted us as standing apart from the status quo was taboo.  So bearing that in mind…

Imagine getting a call earlier in the day from a 17 year old Monica saying, “Ok, youve got to keep this on the low down and not freak out your mother, but I saw one of your water pipes bursting and it’s going to be a cold one tonight.”  Being winter time bursting pipes was nothing new in rural Ontario, so comically I relayed the story to my family that we should have that bucket ready.  Later that night a pipe did burst in our cellar which was unfinished so all the pipes in the basement ceiling were fully exposed as I stood on a chair holding back the deluge with my hand capped firmly over the end.  My mother in sheer panic phoned the plumber getting him out of bed imploring him to come over immediately to help deal with the problem while I stood sleepily on tippy toe.

Then the worst happened.  Mr. Plumber man came in the middle of the night to inspect our little emergency only to re-emerge upstairs shaking his head from side to side.  “Mrs. Chayka I can’t help you.” he said.

“Why not?”  my mother implored, clearly  upset by the thought that we were on our own.

“Because” he said, “The pipe that your daughter is holding is not attached to anything.  It IS a water pipe but it’s just sitting up in the ceiling as though it would be attached to the other runs at some future date, but it isn’t attached to anything physically at the moment.  I can’t explain it.  There is water gushing out of it but it is coming from nowhere.”

With that my mother turned to me and said, “Well you might as well come down from there, you can’t stand there all night.”  And shortly thereafter the geyser stopped.

You can bet I had a couple cross words for the little boy ghost who loved playing practical jokes and messing with us.  As only an older kid can threaten and scare the Bejeesus out of a younger kid, I treated him like a sibling scolding the younger and he never took it that far again.

As for our secret it was loosened a little from the bag but not altogether, mind you my mom always looked at Monica with one eyebrow cocked.  Happily that was the worst of it as far as she was concerned, if only she knew how far down the rabbit hole we went.  You don’t expect me to tell you everything in one sitting do you?  You’d have no reason to come back if I did that.  Cheers!

Namaste, Nicole

 


“How do I keep myself centered when hearing Ghosts of loved ones?”

'Ask the Fringe Dweller' Blog Question for Monica Holy author of 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'

Submitted on 2009/11/20 at 12:29 am

I have conversations with friends who passed, shortly after they died. It takes me days, sometimes weeks, to decipher their message. I find it very draining, because I can hear their voices and feel their vibes constantly for that short period of time. But once I understand the message and pass it around to loved ones, it gives them great relief. So, I know my experiences have a purpose.

I am wondering if I am only hearing ghosts of loved ones because I am afraid of being in contact with ghosts in general. Do you know of anyone who have developed the ability to be in contact with ghosts, beyond the few loved ones, and if so, could you direct me to some mentor or techniques? If not, do you know of any techniques to keep myself centered when I am being contacted by friends who recently died?

Martine

Excerpt of painting 'Grey Wolf' by Psychic, artist Monica Holy, author of 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'Hello Martine

I too feel my experiences have a purpose, and although I originally anticipated to expand my gifts to other areas, I found what worked for me best, was what showed up naturally, and so I was content to ‘be’ with that. However, I have noticed, that as my state of heart, mind and awareness change and grow, so do my gifts. That saying ‘The teacher appears when the student is ready’ I find very fitting. Community bookstores, spiritual and new age churches often post contact info for people or groups dealing with paranormal themes who can help. However do your due diligence to make sure they’re authentic. If you feel you are ready to expand your circle of experience, put that intention ‘out to the universe’, and you may be amazed at what comes back. Say it out loud, but with clarity of what exactly  it is you wish to expand. Here’s where you can protect yourself as you set some boundaries around the ‘how’ or ‘when’ you would like to help. I reference some Psychic Protection techniques in the post ‘Am I opening a Door that I’m not ready for?‘.

Be careful what you ask for, you may find yourself surrounded by an entourage of ghosts/spirits that leave you feeling overwhelmed, and impede your daily life. Have you ever seen the wonderful comedy ‘Ghost Town’?  You may find yourself with a ‘take a number ‘ policy! I’ve heard Sylvia Browne ask that she only be shown the positive experiences, as opposed to the traumatic ones. I found John Edward’s book   One Last Time insightful and humorous regarding dialogues with ghosts. Your very fear  ‘of being in contact with ghosts in general’ as you say, may be creating the boundaries of who contacts you. Fearfulness, or trepidation has it’s own frequency of vibration, and many spirits who have just  crossed over may not have the best communication skills either. Patience is required. If the message they are trying to communicate is not clear to you, clarify that you aren’t understanding, and ask them to try something different. If you choose to  ask for spirit guide assistance in your communication with the ghosts who have contacted you, ask to only work ‘with those of the light’.

Also, VERY IMPORTANT, is the following gem I learned from experience. Sometimes, a message that comes through does not make sense, because it’s not for you to understand. The meaning may be exclusive to the person it is intended, they will understand. The message can literally be lost in the attempt to translate. It’s most often the essence of what’s shown at face value. You can speak to the person the message is meant for, explaining that you don’t get the reference, but perhaps it may mean something to them, and then relay what you saw, heard, or felt.

Experience and flying by the seat of my pants has been my biggest teacher, and not necessarily something I recommend, however sometimes we have to go with what we have at our disposal.

Sincerely, The Fringe Dweller.

 


The Flacker: artwork from Chapter Three

tint on canvas = 5’h x 3’w

Artwork 'The Flacker' by Monica Holy, psychic, artist and author of the paranormal book 'Fringe Dweller on the Night Shift'

THE FLACKER

Dream Journal entry:

Tuesday, February 14 2006

It’s a pleasant social moment in dreamtime. I’m telling a story to a friend about the escapades of my Burmese cat battling it out with a squash.

A sound intrudes from the background. It’s faint at first, but as it gets louder it starts to annoy me. It’s like the stutter of fingers being rubbed on an inflated balloon and rates right up there in my books with nails on the chalkboard. I involuntarily shiver.

Doing my best to ignore the distraction, I carry on with my tale, but the noise is persistent and gets louder yet. “Don’t you hear that?” I finally ask my friend, but she claims not to have heard a thing. Shrugging, I pick up the thread of the story a third time and just as I do, I become aware of a ghostly presence out of the corner of my eye.

It’s a young woman—perhaps in her late teens— wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved blue striped shirt. She’s soaking wet. Her long, straggly blonde hair is plastered in matted strands against her face. Her face is gaunt. She looks as though she drowned.

I feel her close now, standing just by the bedside, but I refuse to give up my story, anxious to get to the punch line.

Suddenly her form begins to flicker back and forth like the strobing image from an old film projector. Between the flickering image and the stuttering sound, it’s nothing short of creepy. My patience at an end, I finally give in and turn to her. ‘Stop it!!” I demand firmly, ‘You’re freaking me out!”

“Well it got your attention didn’t it?” she said, smiling slightly in apology.

“Yes,” I admit, “but it freaks me out, so please stop doing it!”

“It’s called flacking,” she replied, and with that she disappeared. Although she hadn’t told me her name, I knew it was Debbie.

*************************************************

 


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