Fringe Dweller: an afterlife paramedic

Luckily I’d heard of such things, because when I experienced such a thing, it had the subtlety of a space ship landing on your house.  If you ever run across a Psychic Imprint there will be no doubt of it even if it’s your first time.

It was early on at the turn of this new century as I went for a stroll with a dear friend of  mine who calls himself ‘the Wise Wizard’.  Peter and I used to enjoy going for a stretch along Jericho beach in Vancouver, Canada to ground ourselves and catch up on each others lives.  He was always a great sounding board, and the first to chuckle at one of my few fears in life, dying in a fire or by drowning.  He was quick to share that he had a flash of me in former lives and it was little wonder WHY those two haunted me. Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not afraid of death per say, but the ‘how to’ part might be problematic as I don’t find myself attracted to pain.   Past lives have a way sometimes of leaving an emotional mark in this one and I’d had many an unpleasant ‘end’ as a Witch or Healer or ‘Woman of the Woods’ when it was less than popular to be one.  Thank goodness we don’t stone Naturopaths or Herbalists in this day and age.

N’way, we were strolling along taking in the sun and surf when it felt like a wall of emotion ‘gob smacked’ me in my tracks.  I had the distinct impression of fear, panic, desperation as though I was in peril. I pointed to some shrubbery where a large rock was present and said, ‘There.  That’s where it happened. I felt like I was dragged in there.”

To my utter astonishment my companion answered back in agreement. “I was overwhelmed with the urge to sexually assault you.  To drag you into those bushes”  Even though his comments sounded predatory I wasn’t worried or offended because we were both psychics, and we both understood that what we’d experienced was an example of an imprint, but from two very different points of view.  I had taken in the extreme emotions imprinted on the natural environment from the victim’s stand point while my friend had experienced the echo of the stalker.  Echoes are not the same as your own emotions and having had plenty of run-ins with other people’s feelings I could differentiate like a 5 year old can tell chocolate from strawberry ice cream.  Advantage goes to the Empath.

A psychic imprint then is an echo of an emotion, an emotional memory of an event that occurred by those who experienced it. The natural environment almost acts like a sponge recording and playing back that energy.  I don’t believe it can hurt you although it can shock or frighten the heck out of you if you didn’t know what it is, or when it’s coming.  More than likely you can expect to pick up on places that witnessed great tragedy as obvious sources of unexplained outbursts of emotional energy, however great joy and love can also imprint an area.

To review, any intense emotional charge can have this effect so be forewarned that just going into the bedroom of the average North American teenager may lead to bursts of emotional drama. (grin)  Yes, that was a joke.  For those of you who still have adolescent children at home….good luck with that.

For the rest of us, if you pass by an area and inexplicably find yourself shaken with intense emotions that aren’t your own, there’s a very good chance you just experienced your first psychic imprint. Inhale-Exhale.  Just breathe, and leave. Whatever happened is in the past so say a little prayer such as the protective affirmation “All that is not mine, please leave” with conviction, and go on with your day knowing you caught wind of some echoes wafting through time.

Namaste, Nicole

Submitted on 2009/12/25 at 4:18 pm

Your name Monica Holy says it. It is holy work you are doing.

Many, many people do this work. All souls of evolvement help out.

Me too. I experienced helping a lone arctic explorer who had called out for help. I was in meditation at the time. I went to his side. He felt my presence and was comforted. Same with a large boat going down. I was under water helping to guide the souls who were passing over. 9/11 was a major time for such as us. We are all put to use.

The spiritual hierarchy are here in abundance. The time demands it. I wish you well in getting
the message out there for those who have no idea just what lies within them.

God Bless,

Bhavani, England.

Hello Bhavani

My name is what it is, I can live with it now, however in high school growing up-well that’s another matter altogether lol!

It’s wonderful to hear from another Fringe Dweller. Thank you for sharing your story. This is what getting the message out there is all about, people like you coming forward in open dialogue about your experiences. It re-confirms that we are not alone in our journey as Fringe Dwellers.

I wish hearing and reading more about this subject, will bring people some understanding and lessen any fears they may have surrounding supernatural, paranormal, psychic, medium and lucid dream experiences they have encountered. You are so right in mentioning all the people out there who may have no idea of what lies within them. Let’s hope all this discussion brings about new untapped potential for good things.

“Embrace your inner Freakdom-make it your Dance Partner” is what I like to encourage!

Thank you for spreading the message,

Sincerely, the Fringe Dweller

Submitted on 2009/12/24 at 6:58 am

Hi Monica,

Sometimes at night I used to get images flashing in my minds eye before I went to sleep and they made no sense to me.

I heard you talking about that this happens to you before you do what you do.

Maybe what I am experiencing is different ‘cause I don’t lucid dream, maybe I am psychic?

What do you think about these images I get?

Shannon

(BTW  I’m a guy even though I tend to have a more girlish first name hehe.)

Hi Shannon,

When I was speaking of  ‘Images flashing in my Minds Eye’ in that limbo state before drifting off to sleep, it was in specific reference to improving one’s ability to remember dreams, and improve lucid dreaming skills.

I’ve talked to many people who also get the ‘screen in their mind’s eye’. It doesn’t seem to be an uncommon occurrence. Perhaps it’s how far one takes that experience that denotes one’s ‘ability’ to lucid dream. Lucid Dreaming is the awareness  that you’re in a dream, with the potential to control your actions in the dream itself.

Whether  this particularly denotes psychic activity, I couldn’t say, because from early childhood to early adulthood, I had all my psychic experiences with a different method of falling asleep.

As for are you psychic ?-what I can suggest, is to take note of  other aspects in your life. Do you show signs of being sensitive in your waking reality – such as clairvoyance, clairsentient, clairaudient, empathic? What and how do you feel on a daily basis? Only you know what you feel on a deeper level. Become the ‘Observer’ of yourself to explore these possibilities further to see if you might be psychic.

What I can do here, is take a moment to expand on my process of falling asleep and stepping through portals to other dimensions by clarifying the difference from how the process  occurred during early childhood/early adulthood, and how it unfolds now.

Early childhood it happened naturally, without any effort on my part. I would simply find myself dropped into a dream like a ‘Movie already in Progress’. I never had the ‘images flashing in my Mind’s Eye’.  As I grew up, and questioned the ‘how, what, and why’ of things, my state of mind before sleep changed to ‘expect the unexpected’, and eventually grew into a fearfulness towards falling asleep.

I now went through a period in my life, where I wasn’t getting the proper sleep I needed.  I was in a constant state of Hyper Vigilance with both my waking and dreaming realities melting together in an endless loop.  However, I began to work with my mentor Carolyn Long, who  gave me the tools to better understand and cope with my gifts. This also meant I had to find a new sleep pattern that would give me the rest I needed. I had to learn all over again how to relax, and allow myself to fall asleep.

What I discovered with this new method of winding down for sleep time, was that in the act of relaxed meditation, I would find myself in that state of limbo I now talk about…where you’re about to drift off but can still here the dog barking outside. It was here, that the images would start to flash across the ‘Screen in my Mind’. The images would continue to stream, when suddenly I would feel the ‘switch’ go off in the form of a ‘synaptic snap’, and I’d find myself dropped into a dream like a ‘movie already in progress’. From here I take my lucid dreaming skills and apply them to the best of my ability, incorporating them with all the psychic-mediumship skills I’ve acquired in my life’s experiences.

Retraining myself to fall asleep via this calmer state of being , I’d have to venture that this was the more common and healthier process people who meditated experienced.

Know that you’re not the only one that does this, and perhaps look at it as a free ticket to a wondrous Movie Theatre. Have a positive experience by setting your intentions to do so, before falling asleep. Let the images unfold as they will, and enjoy the show!

Sincerely, The Fringe Dweller

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

Empathy is a word that most of us can relate to.  Did I really just say that?  Bad joke.  Sorry, I should be taken out back and flogged with a wet noodle.

Bad, bad Nikki.

To empathize is a verb, but the first time I ever heard it used as a noun is a day I will never forget.  I was sitting across from an acquaintance who, among other things, did psychometry. That fascinates me. To do psychometry, I think you have to be part astral projector and part blood hound to pick up that energy scent. She assisted the police in solving their cases by touching an object and getting a glimpse of information, hopefully about the whereabouts of the owner.  Naturally all of this was hush hush. After all, “What would people say if they knew the police used a psychic?”

Now Elaine had other gifts as well.  She could see a person’s aura and tell you a little bit about yourself.  That day I had come for a reading that focused on my current life theme for this incarnation and she took me by surprise, by relaying her experience following me around at my last house party.  She told me that as hostess of said soiree I would greet each new guest and my aura would change. Wot?

Let’s say Tom’s aura was pink with purple polka dots. (not really, but you get the idea) Mine became pink with purple polka dots.  And Nancy?  Well, Nancy had zebra stripes so mine became zebra stripes. In short, my aura changed with each new person I met.  Weird, eh?  Not for an Empath.  Apparently, for us it’s normal. It’s what we do.  I then received notice from Elaine on what my childhood must have looked like.  Whoa!  Spot on.  How did I know it was unusual to hang out with every social group in high school from the jocks to the metal heads to the brainiacs to the punk rockers?   I was in with everyone.  I’m told that’s unusual.

So let’s review.  Every person on the planet has an aura.  Lots of neat information is stored there.  Stuff like your bodies’ health issues, past life information, unfinished karmic stuff attached to this life, and of course, emotions.  Deep seated emotions.  Even the stuff you’ve combed over with a rake and shovel and thought you had buried. or worse yet – lied to yourself about while playing the denial game, or maybe they ride close to the surface.  At any rate Empaths feel them, to the point it can be hard distinguishing somebody else’s’ stuff from their own, and as a child you can bet that screwed me up.

It also allowed me to see past the false bravado and bullshit that most people put up -or try to put out there as the ‘face’ they wish to show the world.  Got my ass kicked plenty knowing stuff I shouldn’t have said out loud. Some people didn’t like that. Ah well. On the flip side it also enabled me to feel what was authentic and relate to my peers on a whole other level.

I’ve come to see people in some ways as being divided against themselves.  They seem unaware that there is the personality or the emotions that people have –not unlike wearing articles of clothing on the body.  Underneath all that however is the ageless self.  That’s the part of us that comes along for the ride as the observer, watching without judgement all the soap operas and drama that the personality drums up.   None of it is real, but in our minds we create the story and then we create the emotions generated from it.  It’s all about point of view. All of it is real, and none of it is real.  I mean if I go through life with yellow sunglasses, guess what?  I color my perceptions in a swath of yellow, thus justifying my world view.  So, what color sunglasses are you wearing?

In summary (yes we are nearing the end so you can refresh your tea):

Empaths feel everything.  We feel the full spectrum of human emotion right down to the key of G.  We feel you and it is how ‘I’ in large part experience my reality.  I tune into whatever, whoever is around me and vibrate on that bat channel for awhile to get their flavour. Of course I do have my own frequency on the radio dial and I park it there once in awhile.  The fact that we are all one makes it possible to do so, and at some later date when I’ve had enough wine and feel up to it, I’ll share what it’s like to have a visit with the dearly departed after they’ve shed their personality and their real self is revealed.

You, I, WE are beautiful baby. (just in case no one’s told you lately)

Namaste, Nicole