Is That All There Is?

Let me just say that nothing in my life can ever communicate the adoration that comes with knowing my children, and that the impact their very existence has made can never be equalled. That said, I’ve been blessed to have done a great many other things during my time on this planet and plane. I’ve been a rose-grower, janitor, art director, web designer, a professional photographer, and even a musician – briefly. These are the tip of the iceberg. I was once fired from a detective agency because my voice wasn’t “sweet enough” when I answered the phone. I wrote a song that was stolen by a famous artist (don’t ask – I won’t tell).

I demonstrated for civil rights and against the Vietnam War, was hired to film Richard Nixon at a funeral, and saw both The Beatles and The Rolling Stones live. Janis Joplin and Ravi Shankaar as well. I actually had a “real” ticket to Woodstock, which I gave away. I helped occupy my college administration building in 1969, have been robbed at gunpoint twice, been punched in the face for looking “Jewish,” and I legally challenged and beat the draft. I was offered the job of lead sound engineer on a tour with Sly and the Family Stone, which I turned down. I put everything I owned in a VW microbus and moved to LA. Six months later, tail between my legs, I drove back in a first generation, 2-cylinder Honda car.

I have six fantastic children, six grandchildren, and my parents turned out to be right on most things. I play guitar, some keyboard, harmonica, and (shudder) accordion. I believe in both God and Jesus, but can not over-emphasize the intense spiritual catharsis I experienced reading the Bagivad Gita and The Upanishads. And still, we’re only touching the surface. All of these things are just what came to mind, and don’t even begin to indicate what a full and diverse life I feel I’ve had. I’m not finished yet – there’s still much more to experience. I see what comes my way as gifts, and I do not intend to waste them.

Outside of the personal relationships, none of this has come close to the life affirming revelation of hearing from the afterlife through EVP. Things paranormal seem to have somehow touched every sub-atomic spec of reality within me; taught me how to begin filling the gaps in living; allowed me to intellectually fathom the potential in eternity. Something just happened to me the day I truly realized that EVP was like hearing from the hereafter. It was as though nothing else could ever matter quite as much. Since then, for me, nothing else has so completely articulated the essence of humanity.

One single voice from beyond trumps every experience in a heartbeat. It teaches us that life is forever, and that the diversity of it proves every second of effort to be of tremendous value. Knowing that life continues ought to enhance our souls, and for me, it bestows new and significant ambition to the concept of our time on earth. A true believer in Chaos Theory, I am convinced that everything we do simply leads to the next, and that an eternity of living promises is nothing less than spectacular. A little melodramatic? Arrogant? Too much over too little? An EVP-crazed lunatic? Probably, but like I said at the beginning, I feel blessed, so a little passion seems in order. For those who live life and wonder “if that’s all there is,” my answer is always a resounding “Hell no!” You’ve only just started. All we have to do is listen.
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Also visit Voices Unplugged at http://voicesblogunplugged.wordpress.com/

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Respect for the Medium

I’m just a weekend away from my reading with a medium. I’ve been looking forward to this for quite a while, and if you are a listener of The Voices Podcast, then this is not news. Regardless of how excited I am about it, there is still a great learning experience to be had, even though I hold a life-long mistrust of mediums that has only recently softened. 
 
Lately, I’ve had some positive first-hand experiences, so now seems like the perfect time for both the reading itself and for whatever leap of faith I’ll have to take. I attended one of these things with my daughter some time ago, and I was remarkably impressed by the medium’s accuracy, even though she didn’t hit every nail on the head. Nobody’s perfect, but none of the usual stereotypes proved true either, so I decided that day that I wanted to record a personal reading for the podcast. This has been in the works for many moons.
 
I’ve been extended a number of free mini-sessions over the past few years – impromptu, short ventures of five minutes or less – probably offered because of what I do with EVP. But these have always seemed somewhat preposterous – full of Native American spirit guides, wolves that travel by my side, and old crone-like women protecting me. I don’t know what to make of this stuff, but an full-length reading should be more conclusive. The medium I have chosen is someone I know, but she is clueless about my personal history or that of my family, so if the other side chooses to communicate, almost anything they say will be unknown to her ahead of time – I’ve told her nothing. We haven’t discussed my goals or intentions, my attitude, or what I would like to hear. This is going to be a pretty cold reading, and a fair test of her gift – she’ll be completely on her own. Whatever happens, will happen – accurate or not.
 
Believe it or not, I have an odd history of skepticism, and nothing has tested it more than mediumship, but that’s primarily because you so rarely are able to prove the findings as right or wrong. Either way, my intentions are not to judge her accuracy. Her contribution to the paranormal is an important and significant aspect of the field, insofar as mediums speak to the heart and soul of the deceased. EVP seem primitive and incomplete when compared to her work, and yet they receive more universal credibility. That seems unfair to me since the medium is the ultimate conduit in spirit communication. If Dad can’t speak the language, he’ll need an interpreter; if Aunt Sue is lost, she’ll need more than my audio recorder or IR cameras. 
 
So, it seems that mediums operate completely in the realm of unbelievability. It is difficult enough for me to deal with a mouthy skeptic – I can image the flack a medium has to dodge. Therefore, my hopes are for a good reading, and even though I can promise you everything will be taken with a grain of salt, I intend to view the situation as an experience well worth both the money and the effort – no matter what. Voices Podcast listeners will get to go along for the ride, so I recommend the rest of you tag along just this once – maybe we’ll all learn something, and generate a new and much deserved respect for the medium.
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Also visit Voices Unplugged at http://voicesblogunplugged.wordpress.com/

 

Impeccable Timing

A man told me a tale while we were discussing Season One of American Horror Story. It seems that early one crisp Thanksgiving day, while driving down a lonely, local road, he happened upon a transparent person crossing in front of his speeding car. Slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting the figure, the car came to a stop just a few feet away from an unfazed revenant. Yes, he was indeed transparent, seemed to lack one leg, and consisted of a shimmering, unstable substance. The driver was not drunk or otherwise impaired; he wasn’t tired or distracted. It was just a trip down the road for cigarettes on a holiday morning; a trip he had made many times before.

The apparition turned and looked him right in the eyes, offered a beaming smile, and literally tipped his hat, before turning to predictably disappear. “He faded away. He was just gone.” The man went on to say he was shaken, and stayed stopped in the road until the sound of an approaching car snapped him to his senses. He slowly proceeded home, and not knowing how to explain the encounter, kept it to himself for years. “You know,” he confessed, “I might have been driving too fast. Maybe that thing made me slow down so I didn’t hit a tree or something.”

Maybe, I thought, and I remembered reading a similar story a few months earlier concerning a woman trapped in a burning building. She was confronted by a floating apparition who directed her through the maze of fire, and eventually to safety. It was a miracle, and she was completely convinced her life was saved by “the white angel.” Maybe my friend in the car was keeping similar company.

Were these angels? Possibly deceased human spirits sent to save the living from an unnecessary and horrific death? No one will ever know of course, and it requires faith to see this as a backup plan for when our senses and sensibilities fail. But there are those who disbelieve the paranormal verity suggested by both of these incidents; naysayers who can offer no explanation, but plenty of doubt. There always has to be rationality; a real reason – maybe “something more believable.” Because they lied? “Well, let’s just say mistaken.”

My inner believer wants to slap the skeptic right off of some people. I am amazed at our inability to accept one another’s honest testimony. Must we know whether these two incidents were real or imagined; whether they were placed into the mind by a higher power, or manufactured by a subconscious need to survive? All the possible explanations are preposterous, but does it matter?

There are times when the paranormal comes to visit in ways we could not have even imagined, and frequently, we benefit. Often, we lose sight of the true nature of things paranormal – we prefer to make it frightening and menacing. We so easily welcome the notion of demons and monsters; creatures whose only purpose is to suck the life out of us or possess our mortal souls. But the true meaning of such things doesn’t have to be abhorrent. When we least expect it, the paranormal comes bearing gifts – of life, love, and an understanding of what it means to be flawed and in trouble. Sometimes, the paranormal is a good thing to have around. Sometimes it’s timing is impeccable.

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Also visit Voices Unplugged at http://voicesblogunplugged.wordpress.com/

Beside Us

The lady misplaced her jacket, and they spent a portion of three months searching for it. She remembers hanging it on a hook in the hall closet, so they were certain it was not lost, but after a while, they forgot about it, and no longer cared. It would show up eventually, no doubt.

Lately, they’ve been experiencing loud, unexplainable banging sounds, and their three year old frequently complains about a strange man in his room. So, yesterday, when the jacket was found hanging on the railing, in plain sight, they were understandably disturbed. The long forgotten jacket appeared on the end piece of the railing at the bottom of the most noticeable place in the living room. Something paranormal was possibly afoot.

But here’s the interesting part, because a story about a missing jacket doesn’t typically qualify as a legitimate “paranormal” event – she found her car keys in the jacket pocket. Car keys that she has used every day while the jacket was on sabbatical. The Mister said she turned a whiter shade of pale and muttered something about seeing the “ghost hunter” down the street. That would be me, and just so we understand each other, I absolutely believe their story.

Now, I’m not saying I think their house is haunted, but I know these people, and inventing this tale would not be their kind of thing. I like to think I have a pretty good BS detector, and everything about them screams “the truth.” Regardless, I volunteered to look into it, if they wanted – they did not. I offered to provide some equipment they could use on their own, if they felt it might help – they thanked me and said no. All I had left to offer were words of comfort, but it seems they really just wanted to talk about it; they’d be fine.

Well, I was glad I could help in some way. More often than not, it’s enough to just lend an understanding ear. People often feel better by getting it off their chest, and the simple act of saying everything out loud becomes a cleansing measure. Besides, I think there are too many people conducting investigations at the drop of a hat these days – investigations that may not be warranted or result in positive experiences for the so-called victims.

Not every odd occurrence should become part of the paranormal laboratory, you know – sometimes acceptance is the better path. On rare occasions, we miraculously realize that learning to deal with life as it is presented is the true test of who we are, and that sometimes, spirit life is permanently and intricately intertwined with our own. Sometimes, we come to the understanding that sharing our existence with what we cannot comprehend is only normal, and that truly, if we want to be left alone, we must find the will to reciprocate. Not all ghosts need to go away; some spirits belong beside us.

It’s difficult to think of such things this way, because we seem geared against coexistence, and our fear is so easily justified by peers and society. Fortunately, every now and then, one of us (perhaps even a small family) rises above the dread and apprehension in order to willingly share life’s tranquility. Peace is always more easily found when all involved are allowed to partake.
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Also visit Voices Unplugged at http://voicesblogunplugged.wordpress.com/

Without a Shred of Relevance

The other night, I was sitting in bed recording while my wife slept and the CPAP droned, but as soon as I stopped, she was awakened by a vivid dream. To make a very long story short, it turns out that I captured a voice saying “wake up” just seconds before she actually did.

I love it when EVP fit the situation so relevantly, and it seems to happen often. This kind of meaningful interaction is what most convinces me of their authenticity. No matter where they occur, EVP can be downright uncanny when it comes to situational significance, but lately I’ve been wondering just how often this actually occurs. I’ve been pondering a new kind of classification that reflects the relevance of these voices.

We already classify EVP as A through D to indicate strength and clarity, and personally, I use three others – N, E, and R. Huh? N designates a noise phenomenon – something I believe to rarely be paranormal (re: There Is No Silence, Chapter 4). E stands for Extreme EVP, and R represents those which need to be played in reverse to be understood. Now I want to add more! I am a bureaucrat at heart, you know.

Perhaps numbers could be used. We could start at the number one and go to five, with one denoting the most relevant EVP, and five indicating total irrelevance. Well, it needs work, but I wanted to see how many random EVP samples would actually achieve #1 status. It turns out not as many as I thought. The majority of 200 specimens were classified #3 – somewhat relevant, but not necessarily. In fact, the results made a beautiful bell curve when plotted on a graph.

Of course, this doesn’t attest to the authenticity of EVP. We’ve always been aware of how whacky some spirit comments can be, so this occasional absurdity is nothing new. Still, my test results have caused me to embrace these less lucid fellows much more than before. We should be more appreciative of the lowly #5 voices; those without a shred of relevance. I don’t know about you, but I find them infinitely more fascinating.

On July 7, 2009 I recorded a voice that said “Collins is 51 today” – a high-end, fully understandable B-class comment that related to absolutely nothing. This was quickly followed by another voice saying “caw caw caw.” (No, it wasn’t a bird – trust me.) The point is, these comments may not be relevant to situation, location, or people we know, but they’re spoken from somewhere other than here, and in that regard, they’re very important.

Statistics are important too. Indeed, statistical evidence may be the most compelling argument for the authenticity of EVP voices, but it goes much deeper than numbers, trends, or anything that fits on a chart or graph. Each individual EVP represents the expression of someone unseen, and my guess is that while they may not always be relevant to us, they’re probably very relevant elsewhere. So, happy birthday, Collins – wherever you are. You’re A number one in my book. Maybe I’ll throw a surprise birthday party this July 7th, so save the date. Do you think he’ll feel the love from so far away? I wonder how many of us it will take.

The Sixth Sense

The sixth sense exists. It’s real, there is proof, and I’ve seen it in action. It’s not as strong as our other senses, of course, which is why most of us are not aware of it, but it’s there – absolute, undeniable, and statistically provable.

The experiment goes something like this… Put two curtains in front of a person and let them know that behind one is a photo of something. It could be anything – a rabbit, a family of four, ball bearings; doesn’t matter. Behind the other curtain, there is nothing. Now choose which curtain hides the photo. Sounds like a 50/50 proposition, doesn’t it? It is. On average, people get it right half the time. We’re obviously guessing, and the laws of probability rule the day.

Now replace the random photo with a picture of something erotic, and repeat the experiment. Miraculously, the erotic photo is discovered 53 percent of the time – consistently. Is that because we’re a sex obsessed species? Well, yes, as a matter of fact. Over the millennia, we’ve had to survive varying degrees of a harsh environment, and the key to our survival has been the ability to successfully reproduce sufficiently enough to continue as a viable species. When faced with the promise of something so vital to our subconscious need to exist, our sixth sense is awakened, and we’re no longer merely guessing.

I would imagine that some of us fall below this 53 percent – like me, for example, but that means there’s someone else whose sixth sense is incredibly stronger than the average. I find that encouraging. I love the idea that there are people with a highly developed sixth sense, even if I’m not entirely certain what that means or how it can be reliably put to use. Evidently, this truly is a gift – like throwing a baseball faster, or playing a violin better. Certain people among us just seem to know things the rest of us don’t, and we should revere and celebrate their abilities as much as those of any athlete or musician.

Personally, I’m satisfied that the sixth sense is more than the stuff of coincidence or fiction. Scientists at Harvard and Cornell are convinced as well, and while it’s a tremendous leap to suggest any paranormal implications, that too may be possible. It certainly gives me pause to wonder, and I’m not alone. Studies are being done on willing test subjects with the hope of discovering those individuals whose sixth sense is the most highly developed, and whether this could include the ability to deal with “other” things unseen.

If this sixth sense had a hand in allowing mankind to make wise decisions and recognize better survival choices millennia ago, why couldn’t we use it once again – now, when we seem so hellbent on annihilating ourselves in such a variety of ways. I think we’re missing the boat here! Not that we should become a planet of seers and fortune tellers, but maybe we could finally learn to embrace life without so much misappropriated effort, unfounded prejudice, and lousy decision making.

Personally, I’m all for it. The sixth sense is real – just as real as the moon, the stars, and Hershey’s chocolate. There’s no denying the data. Why deny ourselves the benefit?

Not Suitable for Television

Friends and family frequently come to me with questions about the paranormal TV shows. “Is Ghost Adventures bogus? Celebrity Ghost Story is just for publicity, right? You know John Zaffis, don’t you?” Well, lets see – I don’t think so, no, and I only met him once (for ten seconds). I guess they think because I’m in the field, I’m compelled to watch every single paranormal show. It’s a requirement, right? “You went to Penn State. Was Ryan Beuhl there then?” Good Lord, he wasn’t even born yet! Hush.

Okay, okay – I can name drop if I need to. I sold a copy of Voices From Forever to Debbie Constantino and another to Chris Fleming. They were very nice, but I kinda doubt they read it. Chip Coffey once nodded in my direction – knowingly. That counts! Barry Kling said, “How’s it going?” Then he continued walking toward the Men’s Room. I didn’t follow up on that. So that’s the extent of my hobnobbing with the paranormal immortals. Sorry.

Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’d hang with Jason and Steve for sure; have a beer with Zak. I’d love to spend the day with Amy Allen, or the evening with Jael and Lanisha; me and Josh Gates could do some Parisian Catacombs – in the dark. I’m sure all these folks are just wonderful people – salt of the earth, and I wish ’em all well, but even if I did know them, I wouldn’t be spreading the dirt. I don’t feel one ounce of moral turpitude concerning the authenticity of their programs. I’m too preoccupied with keeping my own house in order to go mess up someone else’s.

Good grief! The business of television is to entertain the masses (that’s us), and I for one turn the damn thing off when I’m not being entertained. So I guess it’s highly possible that some things aren’t on the up and up in Paranormal TVland, but I don’t know anything about it.

No one’s ever offered to give me a show. Imagine that! It’s okay though – I always figured the reason film crews didn’t follow me around is because I’m boring. Really boring! Most of the guys they do film are not, but don’t get me wrong, I still love what I do – that’s why I do it. I’m fairly certain it’s not suitable for television though, but a guy can dream, right?

I can see it now – they’ll call it Ghostly Voices or The Ghost Listener… I hate the name, but the contract is air tight, and I have no say about anything. Section Five provides the usual standard pay of $1,300 per episode, and I have to buy my own lunch. Theres no wardrobe budget. Every week we’ll have a zoom close up of me pressing record; spooky sound effects will swell as I ask “is anyone here?” I’ll look all focused between questions – intense; even cerebral. They’ll find me a sidekick (hopefully Jael or Lanisha) who will pretend every word out of my mouth is pure genius; people will wonder if we’ve worked together long. It’ll be great!

Okay, dream is over. Stop asking me about these stupid shows – it’s too painful having to face the depth of my failure to reach paranormal deification. Think whatever you like, but they don’t deserve your adoration – it’s not like they’re The Beatles or Neil Diamond for God’s sake. Of course, you’d probably be better served not to worry about authenticity so much – just enjoy the show. And if you want to be seriously creeped out, watch Honey Booboo – she can’t possibly be real.