by Arabella Sun Jul 12, 2009 2:21 am
The following, from my blog, describes one of my earliest and most powerful experiences of spirit:
I’ve fairly often met spirits of the recently passed, whether they
were intentionally coming to me or that I happened to be in their
physical path. I didn’t know what was happening at first.
Here’s what it was like: I’d just be out walking somewhere and suddenly have a
feeling like waves moving through me and a sense of some powerful
change. The words in my head would always be the same: Something’s
happening, something’s happening.
I always wondered what that was about. I thought it was probably a
premonition of something that would happen in my life and paid
attention afterwards to see. But there was never anything I could trace
back to it.
I found out what it was when my dad died. I was working at
Cedars, a Lebanese restaurant I worked at for a long time. It
was a Saturday and I was on by myself, getting on towards
the end of the day shift. As I was filling the dishwasher, I suddenly
had the same feelings again, the same sensations of waves moving
through me, a perception of momentous change, the same words in my
head: “Something’s happening, something’s happening.”
But this time, I had also a strong sense of my father with me, the
purest essence, as if he’d been distilled. The way it felt was as if
his essential core had never been damaged by any of the difficulties in
his life. And when I thought “Something’s happening,” I heard his voice
in my head responding: “Well, it’s already happened, hasn’t it?”
Wondering a bit, himself, it seemed.
I was distracted by the phone and, when I answered, it was my
sister, Donna, calling from the hospital to tell me that Dad had passed.
It was a wonderful thing to experience my dad in that way, and a privilege.
I had a similar experience, also at Cedars, when the owner’s mother
died. I was wiping down the middle of three small tables and I sensed
her approach. I think I was just in her path more than she was coming
to me. I had the same feelings but also a sense of her in essence. She
was very sweet. Spoke only Arabic but had a lovely disposition. In any
case, it was much the same. The phone rang and Maroun, her son, was rushing out
of the restaurant, pulling on his jacket, choking out that he had to go
to the hospital, it was his mother. And I thought, no — wait, she’s
right here.
Those were among the most powerful experiences of my life. As far as
ghostly encounters, I’ve had others that were spookier. But that’ll
have to wait for another post.