People sometimes think I’m crazy. That may be the wrong term – “out of my mind” sounds more palatable to me. “Insane!” is just unkind, don’t you think? Regardless, this is not how I see myself. But who knows. Maybe they’re right. Ever since I started looking into the paranormal, I’ve seen and heard things I never did before, so it’s conceivable that this might explain the madness which seems to have surreptitiously usurped my position as a pillar of the community. (Ah… The good ole days.)

I’ve read that the more you immerse yourself in the subject, the more frequently experiences occur, and I think that makes sense. If a spirit wants to be recognized, he really ought to appear to someone who isn’t afraid and who actually desires communication. Perhaps that’s why there’s been such an increase in the number of personal experiences I’ve had and have been able to record in recent years. I’m clearly available, so what the heck! Love the one you’re with, right? Besides, I may have unknowingly passed some kind of test to certify my status as a conduit.

Then again, perhaps I’m just convincing myself to see and hear these things because I want to, or worse, because I psychologically need to. In other words – crazy. (There’s that word again.) Flipped out. Off the deep end. Whacko. Two legs short of pajamas. Perhaps I’ve just gotten so involved in all this paranormal mumbo jumbo that good sense has left me, and these absurd events, which are obviously figments of a delirious imagination, seem as though they’re actually happening. Certainly, a cogent person wouldn’t talk about such things – he’d keep quiet and seek professional help as soon as possible. My own mother once said, “Randy, people don’t do these things! What’s happened to you?”

What’s happened indeed. Last night, unable to sleep, I saw a hint of purple diffused light coming from behind some clothes stacked on my wife’s dresser. It was only 6 feet away, and I watched the light slowly increase until it was a bright glowing purple ball of brilliant color. Before I could get to it, the light dimmed and disappeared. I literally leaped to my feet, to my wife’s vociferously expressed dismay, and began to search every inch of her dresser for the probable source. How’s that for crazy? There was nothing in the vicinity to explain it, as you may have already guessed, and so I sheepishly turned off the light and laid back down hoping to see it again. You see? Out of my mind.

Only a couple of weeks earlier, my big toe was touched. I swear to a God – my big toe. Not the shoulder; no stroking of the hair – someone touched my big toe, which was hanging out of the covers. I mean, who makes that up? Couldn’t it have been something dramatic or exciting? It’s not totally uncool, of course, but it just sounds like more craziness is afoot (pun intended). And I may seem to be playfully accepting of my lot, but it really disturbs me not to be completely and unconditionally believed. When you add full disclosure to this crisis of credibility, it looks even worse, so I ask you – what is this need paranormal investigators have for reporting everything that happens to them? And in such detail! What good has ever come from this sort of transparency?

I dunno what that stupid purple light was, but I’m not even concerned about it. It very well might have been my imagination, or I may in fact have been gloriously sound asleep, although you’d think a grown man would know whether he was awake or not. But I don’t care if it was an orb, a fairy in heat, or a full-blown flaming phantasm – I’m just doing my job by reporting it, so I guess you can think what you want. Call me whatever interesting synonym for “crazy” you care to. I can take it. For now, at least.
Voices From Forever by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/ZBBmj Available on Amazon
There Is No Silence by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/U6KY7 Available on Amazon.

What Should We Expect?

Just exactly what should we expect from “the paranormal?” It’s fairly obvious that some of us expect to be thrilled or even frightened, and the larger questions of afterlife and spirituality go basically unnoticed. Others are looking for proof of something. Maybe validation for a belief in God or perhaps even an affirmation that a connection with deceased loved ones should be a reasonable hope. Still others have no idea what to expect from “the paranormal,” and I guess this is where I fall on the spectrum.

It’s always been my thought that the truly important items in one’s spiritual life are unprovable anyway, and that faith is the only productive path when dealing with thIs kind of unknown. But not just faith in God – faith in humanity as well, and in the strong, predictable continuance of life in the universe. I suppose there are better ways to say this, but very early in my “paranormal” studies, I stopped expecting specific experiences, and began looking for emotions. I figured that any hope of recognizable two-way communicatIon with spirit would require some kind of worthiness on my part. I thought the best way to do that was to be willing to understand and do my best to relate. If associating with me was to be of any value to “them,” it would have to come from what we have in common, not in how we differ – in our common humanity Instead; our emotions. I felt that I needed to find honest ways to go precisely there.

I don’t mention this to suggest that I’ve figured anything out, or that I might be a little smarter than everyone else. I haven’t, and I’m not. I’ve had 60+ years to realize that I’m fairly average in most areas, and my life decisions have been evenly divided between good and horrible. I’m not special, gifted, erudite, or unique, and since I have very few paranormal expectations, there are times when none of it makes any sense at all and defies even my wildest imagination.

I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if a spirit walked up to me in the grocery store and asked where to find the olive oil. It wouldn’t shock me to see one made of smoke form in the shape of my grandmother. Out of five very good pieces of video evidence I’ve captured, each one appears totally different. Based on that, I’d expect the next five to follow suit. Lord knows my experiences with EVP are even more diverse. They express everything from totally boring and uninspiring comments to wild eccentricity and downright craziness.

But sometimes, what we see and hear doesn’t quite fit the acceptable paranormal paradigm. So I wonder, who made up these rules that define paranormal phenomena? Who decided something unexplained can only be unexplained if it fits certain understood criteria? Who knows so much about the unknown that they can categorize, codify and label it. And the biggest question of all, why do we pay any attention to these “paranormal masterminds?”

So exactly what should we expect from “the paranormal?” How about anything and everything. How about “who knows?” We’ve had nothing but momentary glimpses into this unseen world; tiny little grains of knowledge which spawn only a suggestion of anything out of the ordinary – of an existence that would also logically have to surpass our own at every level. We have barely begun to scratch the surface – we’re still thinking about it, so are we really smug enough to presume we know anything for certain?

Well, it’s definitely not my place to tell you what to do or how to think. What you feel is your own business. As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t like broccoli you shouldn’t have to eat it, and if all your spirits come in neat little boxes, by all means, stack ’em high. You’ll forgive me if I do not. I may not have very many expectations of “the paranormal,” but I’m terrified of missing it when it happens. So, don’t tell me what to look for. Just let me tell you what I found.
Voices From Forever by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/ZBBmj Available on Amazon
There Is No Silence by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/U6KY7 Available on Amazon.

Reverence for the Majesty

One of the more successful investigations I’ve ever been involved with took place at the end of August, and since it’s a private investigation, there’s only so much I can share right now. However, I can definitely change names to protect the innocent. Part of the reason I’m so thrilled with this endeavor over so many others requires some explaining, but anyone who has done this before can attest to the sad fact that paranormal investigation usually results in little or no evidence.

The team itself consisted of three investigators and a medium and we were tasked with covering a mid-sized commercial building. Now before I go on, let me just say that I do not generally like to investigate with mediums present. This should not be interpreted as a slight to the gifted, because I completely believe that there are those among us who have been blessed with mediumship. However, I personally find their vision to be highly distracting during an active investigation. I feel inhibited and find that I am less likely to pursue directions that seem significant to me – following their lead instead. I also find my attention to detail suffers, so I’d much rather not investigate in their presence.

The world does not revolve around me, however, so it seemed the better part of valor and a worthy challenge to suspend my own designs for the location and go with the flow. It wasn’t long before the medium related the tale of a young soldier who just so happened to be standing right next to me. For the next 45-60 minutes I took direction from the medium, followed his line of questioning, made the same assumptions he made, and behaved as if every word he spoke was both accurate and true. Turns out, it probably was.

EVP I managed to capture reinforced almost everything the medium related – the voices responded to both of us with cogent and clearly pertinent comments. When he mentioned that our soldier brought a date, there are EVP from a female to back it up. We learned a great deal about them both – how he was injured and passed away in the field during the Korean Conflict; that she was his nurse; that he was a Navy Commander. There were many other details – the young lady was particularly funny and endearing. And much of what they revealed to the medium was corroborated with EVP.

Very exciting, in my book, but thats not why I’m writing about it here. In addition to everything, there was video. On a regular old camcorder, something appears to be pouring out of my digital recorder as I’m holding it in my hand. Something that looks very much like you might assume energy would appear. It was very fluid – almost liquid-like. No, that’s not right. It was… Completely indescribable. Totally unexplainable. Every investigator present should have seen this as it happened – especially me since the recorder was in my hand, and yet, we saw nothing in real time. Still, the video is undeniable, and theres just nothing that can reasonably explain it.

This is truly one of the most uncharacteristic things I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, i can’t share it yet, but soon… I’ll post it here, and then the public doubt can begin. The skeptics and naysayers can assemble their best forced explanations and give it to me with both barrels blazing. But when you really stop to think about it, isn’t that what we want them to do? To doubt, and challenge their perceptions?

I’ll understand, because this video doesn’t look right; not your typical apparition or mist, and it behaves unpredictably from beginning to end. It doesn’t appear to be natural, but it isn’t predictably paranormal either. The phenomena is unexpected and unlike anything I’ve ever seen, but I wonder how I could possibly know what the paranormal is supposed to look like. All I know is that on a day in late August of 2014 it looked like this and may never look like that again, for all I know. This constant redefinition of what is most probably the simple “norm” never ceases to amaze me; emphasizes my ignorance, and instills a kind of reverence for the majesty of life’s intention. Continuance. That strikes me as really cool.
Voices From Forever by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/ZBBmj Available on Amazon
There Is No Silence by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/U6KY7 Available on Amazon.

An End in Sight

I haven’t made an entry in this blog for a month now. I wish it was because of vacation, or due to some kind of wonderful life-affirming experience. Childbirth, perhaps, or a stint in Africa fighting the Ebola virus. But alas, we’re having our kitchen remodeled and who knew it would take this long. We were so full of hope; thrilled at the thought of finally realizing a dream, and it’s truly getting there. Or so I’m told.

Now, you may wonder why a simple remodel should hamper my ability to scribe 750 words once in awhile. Surely there’ve been paranormal investigations worthy of discussion during this time. Certainly, there have been interesting personal events I could have written about. I assure you, it’s not that I’ve been completely uninspired, because there are tons of subjects I’d like to talk about. I could have broken my “no politics” rule, or discussed the new fall television schedule… I could have shared something; done my duty as a “blogger”; created some fiction; told some tall tales. But no! I haven’t dared, and if truth be known, I haven’t given this blog, or anything else I hold dearly, even a moment’s thought. However, yesterday, while cutting the grass and listening to the Beatles White Album, I finally realized why I’ve been so quiet. (Thanks again, Fab Four.)

During the past month without a kitchen, I’ve endured more horrific assaults on my person than I would have thought was possible. You don’t want to write while your sensibilities are being bombarded non-stop. Just the simple act of searching for a salt shaker in hopes of adding some meager seasoning to a microwaveable dinner is enough deprecation to ruin several hours by itself. Who knew it would be inside the toaster oven, which was hidden between the box of plates and a large trash bag of potholders, aprons, and cutting boards. Likewise, I haven’t a clue as to the whereabouts of an entire case of microwave popcorn, or the donuts I bought last week that everyone else claims I imagined.

The box of plastic forks and spoons keeps moving on me – it’s never where I last saw it. I keep spilling the ice trays walking from the bathroom to the frig. And speaking of refrigerators, I could have written several blog entries about why we don’t keep them in the living room. Our house mouse, Socrates Swahili Strindberg, stuck his head out in confusion and has moved next door. And I shudder when I think of Oliver the dog, wandering the house aimlessly in search of his dish. In the end, he gave up, sighed heavily, and laid down defeated. Our robot vacuum has given up as well. It came out as programmed one Friday and stopped somewhere behind the sofa, which is blocked in by the stove and refrigerator. I half expected to find the salt shaker back there as well – hiding. On purpose. Oh! I almost forgot, someone tripped and fell on the box with our glasses inside. I won’t say who, but old age had nothing to do with it.

A month doesn’t seem like such a long time in someone’s lifetime, but it is. This month has been an eternity, but when you add the indignity of having cabinets arrive at the wrong size, drawers without stops, live exposed electrical wires in the wall, and a dented microwave/exhaust hood, it has become forever. Yesterday, two days from installation, we were informed that our granite slab has cracked, and we must choose another.

Is there an end in sight? One would hope so, and certainly I’m mustering every ounce of optimism I can find (even though I’m convinced most of that is behind the sofa with the robot). We’re all holding up quite well, considering, because we know that when the dust finally clears, we’ll have a beautiful kitchen that we’ll cherish for many years. (We’re not doing this again in my lifetime.) Yes, we’re stiff-upper-lipping it, and dealing with adversity like true DIY champs. We’re a few dollars poorer and have noticeably aged during the process, but it will all be worth it – we’re just hoping we can hold on long enough to actually see the finished project. Besides, tonight we’re going to TGIFridays instead of Boston Market. Or MacDonalds. Or Sonic. The first thing I’m gonna do when the kitchen is completed is make spaghetti. I’m pretty sure we’re storing the sauce under the bathroom sink.
Voices From Forever by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/ZBBmj Available on Amazon
There Is No Silence by Randall Keller http://goo.gl/U6KY7 Available on Amazon.