What's In A Name?

The holidays have been very enjoyable and I think that everything is settling down again. At the very least, my toddler is resuming her regular schedule and is no longer overwhelmed by company and by too many gifts.

It's a relief to have begun my month-long vacation from readings but now I'm unsettled:

I had a very frustrating experience last night. The ghosts that came to my dreams gave me the first and last names of a person and I haven't any other clue about her identity. She isn't a client of mine (at least, not yet). I've written the name down for future reference.

Also, a ghost from my family's home--in a dream--came to warn me about something but I can't remember the content! She was actually the "ghost from the porch". She was angry, she was dressed in white (how cliché!) and I know that it was important.

Glass Breaks

Last night, between four and five a.m., my sister and her friend were awakened by the sound of glass crashing in the kitchen, right beside them. Apparently, it sounded as if all the glass in the kitchen had been smashed to the floor.

They got up to investigate, turned the light on and found nothing out of place. This is not unusual for the old family home. My sister is accustomed to hearing glass breaking and finding absolutely nothing (though it is usually my mother who experiences this).

Her friend, however, was frightened almost witless while my sister fell back to sleep.

***

Yesterday, a very long day, was my last set of readings until February! My writing vacation begins. I'm so thrilled.

There was something of a storm during the last few days and more stormy weather was expected yesterday; not one of my clients, however, was deterred. One lady even said, "Look, if I have to ski to get there, I will." Blush.

A Light In The Dark

The place is simply abuzz lately with ghostly activity. Both Scully and I have often heard our names being called and, thinking it was the other, were shocked.

Orbs, flashes of light and figures--all seen and sensed--are really notable.

This afternoon, before leaving for our visit with my in-laws, I was entrusted with securing the house and I did so diligently. I made certain that each light was off when I left.

Many hours later, my dear husband exclaimed:

"You left the hall light on!" He was frustrated.
"No, actually, I didn't." I snapped.

The conversation stopped there. You know, the light being turned on could be interpreted by others as intrusion but I thought it was a nice gesture: while we were away, I thought more than a few times about coming home to a pitch-dark house. (It's on a very large lot without extra lighting beyond those on the street. Tucked back from the road, it is very dark.) It bothered me that I had chosen to turn every light off before leaving.

Anyway, there are four spirits around.

Ghost Etiquette

Gigi continues to talk about ghosts that I've seen, too. Lately, the strongest ghost (in the sense of "most often perceived") is in the basement. He is large and he died an angry man. He has not tried to talk to me. I believe that he is associated with the home as a former resident but not a former owner.

Gigi doesn't become afraid very often because, since she started speaking of them, I've introduced her to cartoons with images and songs about ghosts. I also tell her not to be afraid and she says, "Never, never."

Nice is the transformation with Scully: he has had some experiences (recounted at various points in the blog) but it's Gigi's growing capacity for speech and her fascination with them that intrigues Scully.

Since becoming a professional psychic a couple years ago, I have to say that I've become more detached from the ghosts around me. They're there, definitely, but often in the sense that wallpaper is there or furniture even. I guess I'm no longer intrigued by my experiences. I've just accepted them.

If a ghost needs me, it contacts me. If not, it doesn't and I don't push the issue. I guess I've developed a 'ghost etiquette'.

A Tale of Two Parties

I receive a lot of email to I See Dead People. There are often many questions and, overall, it's nice, warm and supportive. One in particular was really touching because I suddenly realized it was from a complete stranger. I couldn't help but think back to a conversation that I'd had at around the time that the media started buzzing around me.

It was with someone whom I only knew as a celebrity.

"Look around you tonight. Many of your friends won't be around in the next couple of years. Before you've even gotten to the height of your career, so many people will have just dropped out of your life."

I tried to be casual. It was, after all, a party and I didn't want a scene or anything like that.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Some will be envious of you. Some have been around because they felt more successful than you. Others will resent how quickly you became successful. And others won't believe in what you do and won't have an open mind."

"I think my friends'll support me." I could feel my cheeks burning with resentment. How dare this person presume to know anything about me or about my friends? Besides, life at that time was all about a great husband, a beautiful home and I went from media event to media event while subsisting on hors d'oeuvres and wine/champagne.

Boy, I was wrong. So, so wrong. Last weekend, I was at a party (a very good one, indeed) and met up with someone who resents me. (I have it on very good authority that she does.)

I dreaded the encounter. I wasn't about to apologize for having made something of myself and I wasn't about to apologize for having a career that most people didn't understand and, worse, wouldn't even try to understand. I often write about what I do for a living but I don't speak of it often unless it's brought up in a certain context or by someone else. So, obviously, I wasn't going to force the issue by saying, "Hey, did you see me on television?"

When I did see her, my own resentment dissipated. I just felt saddened. Here was a person for whom I could be happy if she were happy but who, in turn, could not be happy for me: she knew about the interviews, many radio appearances, the documentary, etc. but she could not mention it.

And, so, the celebrity had been right after all. This person had spoken from experience. I'm not as well-known as she--or, maybe I am but how could I possibly know?--and I didn't ask to become well known nor did I ever expect to be. It has all been a nice--and oftentimes embarrassing--surprise to me.

I could have dwelt on the fact that not all of my friends have come through for me. When I look around now, I see the numbers have dwindled.

When I looked around at this most recent party, I chose only to see the people who supported me. People who said, "Hey, congrats on the documentary" or "I wanted to watch you on television but was at work" or, even better, "How are you?"

These were my friends. As for the resentful former friend, I bid her goodbye. I mean, really, I did. When, as she was leaving, she kissed my cheek and said, "Goodbye", I returned the nicety though my word was more meaningful.

The rest of the night, I was grateful to be among people with whom there was mutual respect. Not everyone believed in what I did but they treated me with respect just as those who take the time to make comments, to ask questions and to send email.

(cross-posted to Miscellanea & Ephemera)