I've been holding all of you in suspense about my ghostly experiences, so I thought I'd hit you with the first ones .. the ones that got me started on this blog.

While these experiences happened in the netherworld of sleep they were not dreams.  I believe this because of my continued strong memory of them.  Dreams usually don't last too long in memory ... I mean, c'mon, do you even remember the dreams you had last night?  My dear, dear friend Nancy explained to me that these experiences were my soul's journey into the spirit world.  That, because I haven't yet developed the skill to make that journey whilst I was awake as my friends Larry and Ruby can do, I am relegated at this time to this process.

So ... here goes ... I'm in this building, a tenement.  It feels New Yorkish.  Its not in good shape.  There's no one around.  No sound.  I'm filled with anxiety and sadness.  As I look around, the building seems to shift or phase in and out between two versions of itself - a ghostly newer (less old) version and the present day damaged one.

I here the gigles and whispers of voices.  I catch glimpses of spirit people mostly dressed in clothes from the '20's.  Was there a fire here that killed them?  They seem afraid of me.  At some point I begin to feel a sense of purpose ... like I am supposed to be here.  I am looking for someone.  I feel him.  he is not a good man/spirit.  I see him in a doorway and strive toward him.  My hands begin burning and I feel very angry at him.  He lunges down the hallway as I raise my hand.  There's a flash and he's gone.

I suddenly understand what I am doing ... there are bad (I won't say evil) spirits lingering here and I am banishing them.  I march through halls and rooms banishing several spirits.  At the same time, I still hear gigles and laughter of children and I "feel" other spirits watching, yet scared.

I am in this hall and I see a man peer around a dark corner. He's curious.  I stop and smile at him.  "It's OK" I say "I won't hurt you." I reach my left hand out to him.  He timidly steps forward.  He's dressed in a 1920s suit.  "What are you doing here?" he asks.  "Helping."

He takes my hand.  He feels warm, alive. I tell him, "You know you are not one of the living." His eyes tear up. "You are one of the passed."  He looks at me with sad knowing.  I smile at him, filled with love for him; he smiles back and I feel love come from him.  "You are one of the loved." and a white light busrts from within him and he is gone.  Gone to a better place, I know.

He must have been the one I was truly searching for on this journey, for there, the journey ended ... with love ... with peace.