Aliens Visited Me

In 1972 I was diagnosed with a precancerous cervical condition. Back then, what today takes only one day as an outpatient, took 3 days in the hospital as I recovered from a D&C and a conal biopsy. At home, lying face down on my black and white striped fur couch (1970s, remember), I opened my eyes and peered into the kitchen where I saw what looked like two bug-like humans with skinny bodies and very large eyes. I wasn't frightened by them, though. I was merely curious. I was also mesmerized by them, so I just kept staring at them. 

They kept staring at me, possibly communicating with each other about me through some sort of language I couldn't hear. I had never seen creatures like the ones that stood in my kitchen, and believing that I must be dreaming, I closed my eyes. But every time I opened my eyes, the creatures were still there, leaning against the counter in my kitchen, still staring at me. I must have fallen asleep eventually, though, because one of the times I awoke, they were gone.

As usually happens when one is drugged with pain medication, I forgot about the experience – until years later, when in 1988, I saw, sitting on a shelf at Barnes and Noble, a book entitled, "Communion," written by Whitley Strieber. The instantaneous shock of seeing that picture on the cover of that book brought me back to the apartment where I had lived many years before. Suddenly I remembered what had to have been an alien visitation. How else could I describe something I’d never seen before but which appeared in front of me on the book shelf and instantly brought me back in time to the event that took place in my apartment?

Over the years I’ve read about alien abductions and some of the abductees report having had surgical operations performed on them by aliens. I had just had surgery. Was it possible that they were curious about how humans performed surgery? I don’t remember ever having been examined, though. All I remember is lying on the couch and looking at them as they looked at me.

To read more about my Alien Encounters, click the link for UFO Sighting.

Ayahuasca – The Road to Your Soul

If you haven't heard of Ayahuasca by now, you will soon. It hasn't reached it's "Tipping Point" yet, but I predict that it will – and soon!

Netflix is showing two documentaries about the substance and I would like to direct your attention now to this article, Ayahuasca – Take a Journey to Your Soul. If you've ever wanted to enter the Twilight Zone, Ayahuasca may be your roadmap to it!

Knife at My Throat and a Psychic Phone Call

...As I was getting out of the cot to get it, a body jumped on top of me and held me down. The body shape looked like my soon-to-be husband, but I wasn't wearing my contacts, so I couldn't see him clearly. He was wearing a mask. I wondered what the shiny instrument was that he held near my throat....

...My daughter stirred in the bedroom and the guy with the knife grabbed me around my throat with one arm and held the knife to my throat with the other. "What was that?"...

...At a time when nobody owned cell phones, I also called my fiancé whose line was repeatedly busy, which was odd considering it was 4 o'clock in the morning...

To read all of this true story, please click Psychic Phone Call with a Knife at My Throat.

You’ve Been Cursed! How Do You Remove That Curse?

Nothing is more powerful than belief – YOUR belief. What you believe lays the groundwork not only for how you live your life but also for how you respond to anything that happens to you. If you feel that you have been cursed, for instance, and you walk into a darkly lit room to find a soothsayer who promises to relieve you of your curse, one thing and one thing only will unburden you from that curse – your belief that she knows how to remove your curse. But can you trust her? Read Do You Sometimes Feel that You’ve Been Cursed? for more.

A True Chicago Haunting – It's Halloween Every Day in a Haunted House – Buyer Beware

Previously published on Yahoo! Contributor Network

In 1985, long before the advent of cell phones, I returned home from work one night to discover that my (then) husband had kicked my fifteen-year-old daughter (oldest of four) out of the house for arguing with him about spending the night with a friend. The irony was that after finding nowhere to go, Keeley moved in with that friend's family the same night, a move that would prove to be immediately and truly supernatural.

After hearing about the argument, I allowed my daughter to live in their home, mostly because I didn't want to subject my daughter to a stepfather who so obviously abhorred her, but also because I was pursuing a divorce anyway.

Because the mom was a single parent with five children, I decided to award her some child support and I visited often. Before the argument, I had never met the family, but my daughter knew I would have allowed an overnight stay because I had often heard her speak fondly about them, and I would have met them when I picked her up.

Clare and I soon became very good friends. She and her children lived in a giant house in the Beverly area of Chicago and Clare had many teenage overnight visitors. To her, one additional child was merely a "what's one more?" minor inconvenience. To me, however, it was a big deal.

But rather than have my teenage daughter move back in with a man who so clearly disdained her, since I was already hatching my escape plan, I made it a point to get to know Clare. She truly enjoyed Keeley's company and convinced me that she would rather have my daughter live with her than with an unloving stepfather.

Upon first entering her home, however, my first thought was that it felt a little "creepy." I dismissed my thoughts and feelings while we drank herbal tea and talked at her dining room table. She put me at ease and then asked me if I wanted to see the rest of the house.

With trepidation, I followed her around like a frightened child. In the basement, my skin felt clammy and clenched tightly around my bones. My heart pounded so wildly in my chest, I felt as if I was facing my own death. I felt so uncomfortable underground, in fact, that I thought I was going to pass out. I must have looked like a Freddy Kruger victim entering a cellar in one of the Nightmare On Elm Street videos.

The second floor was no better, however, because as soon as I got to the top of the stairs I felt like running down them and out of the house as fast as I could. Never before had I been in a house that felt so scary, and never since. As somebody who has always been interested in paranormal activity, I have always believed in the possibility of ghosts, and have even had experiences with a couple of them (read Spirits of Ghosts - True Ghost Stories to find out about my true ghost experiences). http://paranormalminds.blogspot.com/2014/10/spirits-of-ghosts-true-ghost-stories.html

Because of my interest in all things metaphysical and paranormal, and because my daughter was in a rebellious phase, she believed in just the opposite of everything I believed - according to Keeley, ghosts did not exist, and everything "paranormal" was explainable. Mom was just plain weird, had a vivid imagination, or both.

The movie Ghost Busters had been released just the year before, and while Keeley looked upon paranormal activity as "stupid," her stay with Clare and Clare's children would challenge her beliefs and change them forever.

On her way up the stairs to sleep in the room the family had assigned to her on her first night in their house, everybody asked if she would be OK up there all by herself. In her usual nonchalant style, my daughter said, "Yeah, if he bothers me, I'll just call Ghost Busters."

All of them immediately became concerned and admonished her, "You shouldn't have said that. He's not going to like that you said that." She shrugged, brushed them off, and went upstairs.

Clare and her children experienced several incidents with the not-too-friendly ghost. One day, for example, as they all watched television, they saw a bicycle roll across the huge expanse of their hardwood living room floor, its pedals rotating as if somebody was riding it. Not wanting to admit to seeing what so clearly had to have been a hallucination, everybody ignored the phenomenon and nobody discussed the experience until much later when they compared notes and discovered that yes, they had all witnessed the same event.

On her first night at the house, after climbing the stairs to the second floor, Keeley sat down on the bed. The moment she lifted her feet from the floor, she watched the table next to her rise off the floor and hover for several seconds. Instant fear engulfed her, and she tried to scream, but her voice choked silent in her throat.

It was to be one of many such experiences that forever changed Keeley's view on paranormal activity.

Everybody, it seemed, learned to live with the ghost, but I remained terrified of it. Not long after Keeley moved in (the move was only temporary), the family sold the house and moved on. The night before the move, I dreamed I was helping Clare move. As would be my feeling in reality, I rushed to grab boxes and race out of the house. In this dream, however, as I grabbed a box and ran behind Clare, the doors slammed shut after Clare exited the house - I couldn't get out. So on my last day at the house, as Clare was moving boxes, I made sure I was the first one out of the house.

I later asked Clare if she had any qualms about leaving the house to people who knew nothing about the ghost, and she told me that nobody had mentioned any paranormal activity to her when she moved in - if the new owners had had any apprehension about purchasing a haunted house, they shouldn't have bought it in the first place. And besides, the ghost never actually hurt anybody.

Only one word entered my mind when she said that - YET! But maybe I've seen too many programs that deal with paranormal activity and ghosts.

Clare and I remain very close friends. I still wonder from time to time about the current owner(s) of the house, and possible subsequent owners after that. Were any of the homeowners aware of a presence in the home? If they weren't sensitive to things outside the bounds of sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell, would it be possible to live with a real ghost and not know about it?

I never saw any scary spirits or ghostly apparitions in that house, and ghost hunters, if they were around back then, were unknown to me. I know with certainty, though, that I would never knowingly purchase a house I thought was haunted. To me, living in a haunted house would be like celebrating a fright-filled Halloween every single night.

But maybe a haunted Halloween-type experience is not an accurate assessment of a home that feels eerie. Maybe it's more a matter of positive and negative energy left behind by previous owners. Maybe the paranormal experiences we perceive to be in haunted toys, haunted music, or haunted houses signify our ability to feel the positive and negative effects of residual energy.

If you are thinking of buying a haunted house and if you are curious about how you might react to living in a supernatural environment - or even if you think you might be sensitive to positive and negative energy in a home you are considering purchasing - check out Cathy Montville's Buying a House? Research State Law or Live with that Ghost article before you buy. http://expertspages.com/2014/08/buying-a-house-research-your-states-law-or-live-with-that-ghost/

Happy House Haunting - I mean Hunting!

The Pact – Two Friends Promise to Visit Each Other After Death

Katherine and I met on Superbowl Sunday in 1982. We were both pregnant and we were both due one day apart that following July – me on July 25th; her on July 26th. Unlike most people who meet at parties and agree to keep in contact, Katherine and I actually did. And as our due dates drew closer, we kept in more frequent contact.

By August, we discovered another commonality - both of our babies were overdue. Katherine finally gave birth on August 4th. The following day, I had the nurses wheel me into Katherine's room to announce to her that I, too, had given birth to a son. Our babies were born hours apart on different days.

Throughout that year and the next we further developed our relationship when we both gave birth to girls a month apart in 1984. We got together as often as we could and we maintained our relationship with phone calls when we couldn't get together. We were each other's link to sanity when our lives spun out of control.

After we both divorced, Katherine moved west of the city and I moved south, but we kept in close contact with phone calls, emails, and visits. Our discussions always centered around family and the paranormal.

As the days, weeks, and months passed, Katherine and I became more strongly bonded. Her beliefs were aligned with mine and we both shared a passion for all things paranormal. Spirits, ghosts, hauntings, auras, crystals, ESP, UFOs, Tarot cards - everything paranormal captured our attention - especially astrology. I had taken a class in astrology and taught Katherine how to draw charts and analyze them.

Katherine took my teachings and started casting her own charts, making phenomenal predictions that more often than not came true. She developed a client base, quit her job, and became a full-time astrologer.

We read for each other and decided that because of our belief in life after death, whoever died first would contact the other. That was our pact.

In 2006, Katherine developed physical problems that, according to Katherine, baffled doctors. Katherine went from doctor to doctor, from hospital to hospital, no closer to an answer after several months than before she started visiting them.

As her health deteriorated, her spirit suffered as well. She thought friends didn't understand the severity of her problems and that they were taking advantage of her by hounding her for readings and not caring about the medical problems she endured.

Despite repeated attempts to get together with her, Katherine grew to believe that nobody, including me, truly cared about her. In the fall of 2006, I finally convinced her to meet me midway between where we both lived. The visit was the most unusual one we ever had.

As was our custom, we informed the wait staff that we would be in their establishment for several hours but that we would compensate them for their time. Unlike her usual cheery attitude, Katherine's demeanor was serious and morose. Something about that luncheon bothered me and I could sense something in Katherine, a sad resolve, perhaps, that her physical problems would never be addressed.

The holidays were extremely hectic for me that year. In a period of two years, my family had expanded considerably with the addition of two marriages and more babies. I was also moving during the month of December. I tried to let Katherine know what my new address would be, but though I tried on several occasions, I could never reach her.

I always call friends and family on Christmas, but for the entire month of December, I was unable to get a hold of Katherine. Her voice mail box was full and it wouldn't allow me to leave a message.

I even tried sending emails, but Katherine never responded to any of them. Maybe she still considered me to be one of those friends who had abandoned her in her time of need. By January, I was becoming more and more concerned, and I called her again and again.

One night, alone in my room, I discovered a new reason to call her that would certainly excite her. Upon awakening in the middle of the night, I felt a presence in the room, a heaviness that alerted me to the fact that I was no longer alone. As surely as I could feel a hug from a loved one, I felt the presence of someone in that room.

Though I have felt the presence of spirits before (you can read about those experiences in the article, Spirits of Ghosts - True Ghost Stories), I remained frightened by them. I didn't know who the spirit was, but I apologized to whoever it was for being afraid. Once I acknowledged its presence, the heaviness lifted and the presence left.

Katherine knew about my other spirit visits and I couldn't wait to share this new experience with her. I continued to call her throughout January and into February, all the while wondering what was going on and why I couldn't contact her. I was getting angry with her for never emptying her voice mail box so I could leave her a message and I was angry with her for not responding to my emails.

I thought I might be able to reach her through one of her children on myspace so I tried there first. Eventually, I located her son. On February 20th I received a message from him telling me that Katherine had passed away from organ failure on January 10th. His father had died the following day. The shock I felt was compounded by knowing how sad her children were at the passing of both their mother and their father within one day of each other.

Thinking back to the day when I felt a spirit in my room, I understood now that the spirit who visited me was Katherine. She had kept her promise to visit me if she died first.

Today, probably knowing I'm still not comfortable with spirit visits, she enters my dreams. I once asked her in a dream what if felt like to be dead. She responded that it really wasn't much different from life on Earth and that she was still learning.

I'd like to believe she finally found the peace she so deserved. 

Spirits of Ghosts - True Ghost Stories

Originally published on (the now defunct) Yahoo! Contributor Network Jul 17, 2009

When I was in grammar school, I fell madly in love with a high school senior who played drums in a band. Since I was only 13 years old, my parents wouldn't allow me to go out with him, so he came to our house and visited with my father after Dad sent me to bed (very embarrassing). The following year - my freshman year of high school - George joined the service and was sent to Viet Nam.

Probably because of the age difference, and definitely because of my father, George never kissed me. He never even tried to kiss me, but, filled with the spirit of youth, I held out hope that one day George would become so completely enamored with me that he wouldn't be able to help himself.

He did write to me though - often. And the joy I experienced when I received his letters contrasted sharply with the disappointment I felt when I searched vainly through his letters for any mention of, "I love you." I sifted through page after page of the day-to-day things like, "I had to sit in a tree today," hoping to find one shred of evidence that he loved me. Never did he mention his love for me - the words I longed to see never appeared. He droned on and on about how secretive his mission was and how he was commanded not to tell me anything about what was going on in Viet Nam.

And then one night I had a dream about receiving George's typical letter, which I perused with my usual hopefulness. Again, he made no mention of love, but something unusual appeared in the letter, words that stood out from the rest. I didn't remember immediately upon awakening what they were. And then they slammed me in the head like a set of brick bookends. Clearly written in the letter I had read in my dream were the words, "Oh, by the way, I'm dead."

Several days later his mother called to tell me that George had died (the day I had "read" his letter).

That experience led me to believe that spirits have the ability to visit "loved ones" in dreams, and I convinced myself that, even though he never said the words, the fact that he attempted to maintain contact with me even after he died meant that I was at least somewhat significant to him.

Perhaps the most unusual ghostly appearance I ever experienced, though, came in the early 1970's when I was nineteen years old and studying ESP.

Marilyn and Jeannie, close friends who took breaks and lunches together at the insurance company where they worked, invited me, the newbie, to join them. We became friends and often met outside of work for picnics and other get-togethers.

A couple of months after I met my new coworkers, Marilyn's cousin, Dennis, drove Marilyn to my house for a visit. As Dennis sat in my driveway watching his cousin climb the steps to the home I shared with my parents, sisters, and daughter, I stood in the doorway to welcome Marilyn, and when I looked into the car and saw him, I felt a powerful and instantaneous connection with him that would draw me closer to him every time we got together.

Unlike some of the guys I had met, Dennis treated me with tenderness, affection, and respect. It was an easy relationship that we both took great care to nurture as we waited for our divorces to finalize. We were both still very young, we both had little girls, we shared the same principles, and we loved the same types of music.

Though I was separated from my husband, Dennis was still living with his wife, so we took our time in developing our relationship. Marilyn insisted that his divorce truly was in its final stages and that I had nothing to worry about, but I wanted to go slowly and so did Dennis.

One night when Dennis and I were supposed to get together, and after several nights of my parents reluctantly babysitting, my parents decided that they were so embarrassed by all of the motorcycles rumbling down our street every night that, even though Dennis would be coming without his entourage that night, they refused to babysit any longer if I continued to date the "rebel." I told him I would try to get together with him over the weekend instead.

Because I was deeply involved in enhancing my extra sensory perception (ESP) during that time, I practiced Harold Sherman's How to Make ESP Work For You exercises daily. I surprised people at work (and myself) with my accuracy. It was fun and it was entertaining.

The day after we were supposed to get together, though, I was haunted by my perceptions. I awoke with a queasy feeling and a gnawing suspicion that something was wrong with somebody. I couldn't articulate why I was so upset, however, or whom my feelings referenced. I carried my daughter to the sitter trying not to let my mind run me over with worry. I walked to the bus stop and rode the hour-long bus ride to work, wondering and worrying the whole time about why I was feeling so strongly that something was seriously wrong.

By the time I got to work, I was convinced that if something hadn't been wrong when I awoke, it was going to be wrong at some point during the day. Marilyn didn't show up for work that day, so I told Jeannie about my concerns. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I couldn't relieve myself of the emotional anguish I was experiencing.

I called my mother, my sisters, my sitter, my friends - everybody and anybody I could imagine. I couldn't eat and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the thought that something was seriously wrong somewhere.

Jeannie watched me closely throughout the morning and listened to me tell her repeatedly that I knew somebody was in trouble or that somebody was experiencing something truly awful.

Breakfast passed, break passed, lunch passed, but the nagging feeling didn't. By afternoon break, Jeannie told me she couldn't watch me suffer anymore and that she thought she knew why I felt so strongly that something was wrong with somebody - she had heard that the reason Marilyn hadn't come to work that morning was because the night before (the night I was supposed to be riding with him), Dennis had been killed in a motorcycle accident.

We called Marilyn's house to verify the rumor and discovered that Dennis had been run over by a Pepsi truck on the night I was supposed to go riding with him.

Instantly I knew that Dennis was the reason I felt as I did and that even people I knew for only a short while could impact me with so much power that no matter how long I'd known them or how much time I'd spent with them, my life had forever been changed because of them. I was soon to discover just how deeply I had affected HIM.

That night, after I pulled the string from the ceiling light and placed my head on my pillow, I heard a jumbled whisper of words in my ear. Everything I'd learned about ESP dissolved. In terror I flew out of bed to turn on the light, my heart pounding. I slept with the light on that night, apologizing over and over to Dennis for being afraid, but unable to stop myself from feeling the fear.

The following night, as I sat on my bed, after turning off the light, I felt a hand touch my shoulder. Scared out of my skin, I jumped off the bed and turned on the light deciding never again to study ESP. For years afterward, I slept with the light on and never again felt his presence.

I learned something from those experiences. WE ARE energy and we either attract people to us or repel people from us. Energy surrounds us and energy impacts us whether through attraction or repulsion. When another person's energy embraces ours in a loving affectionate manner, we can feel that warmth even after the person is gone, because, as any scientist will tell us, energy never dies.

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