The Hwy 95 Journeys

What happened on the way to my Spring Fast on the Blood Reserve where the Blackfoot Tribe lives in southern Alberta, Canada as I drove through Idaho in the Northwestern United States.

The fastest route to Alberta is Highway 95. I have traveled this road many times and these are a few of the experiences I have had along the way.

First Trip:

In April of 2002 I was traveling north on Highway 95 through the Upper Panhandle of Idaho toward Canada. After I crossed the border into British Columbia on my way to Alberta and drove about 20 km, I noticed on the left-hand side of the road across from a truck stop a bunch of pink flamingos. They were the grassy green type of pink flamingo, the kind you stick in your lawn, not the live Florida types. That was odd and even weirder how my neck snapped around like an owl to notice these pink flamingos and this little tiny store. I was on my way to the Blood Reserve of southern Alberta for a ceremony with the Blackfoot Tribe. “Reserves” are the Canadian equivalent of US Native American reservations.
My first fast was coming up. It’s a four-day ceremony of no water or food with five sweat lodges in preparation to Sundance the following summer. I then spent another seven hours driving from the little pink flamingo store wondering why it just jumped out at me. Once I arrived at the fast I helped set up camp. We're fasting in snow. It’s really cold weather. I went on about my business of building the fires for sweat lodge and praying for others. When the fast completed we all shared a meal. Afterwards I left to drive home back through Idaho to Granite Falls, Washington. About halfway between Alberta and the British Columbia-Idaho border I remembered the pink flamingos.
As I got close to the store, I decided to stop even though I didn't have any money. I parked and went inside. There was a really big guy who looked like a cross between Santa Claus and Burl Ives who welcomed me to the store. I started looking around at all the stuff. It was a thrift store with lots of this and that’s collected from garage sales. It really didn't find anything that interested me, and I decided since I didn't have any money I wouldn't get anything. Getting money for whenever required me to find a pay phone and activate my credit card. As I was walking out the door of the thrift store this big jolly man sitting on a stool behind the counter spoke up.
“What is it you're looking for?” he asked. “I bet I have it.” I told him I'd just come from a fast, and he asked what tribe.
“The Blackfoot or blood tribe,” I replied.
“I have some stuff behind a counter for you behind this, this wall,” he said. “Here, let me get it for you. You might be interested.”
He brought out a Sundance medallion, a Buffalo horn carved into a polished Eagle head, a drum, and a small book written in 1905 called The Gospel of the Red Man. I look at the items and decided I would buy the Sundance medallion, the buffalo born, and the book. Asked him if I could use his phone, and he said he didn't have one. Then I asked where the nearest phone was so I could activate my credit card and pay for the bill.
“Next door to the gas station.”
OK. I went next door and called the 800 number only to find out the 800 number is good in the United States but not in Canada. I ended up talking to a hotel as the wrong number. I called the bank and they said the only way to activate the card is to call the 800 number, and I would have to be in the United States to do that. So I drove 50 miles to the border and went through and cleared US customs. Used their pay phone to activate my credit card and then do a U-turn arriving back at Canadian Customs.
The Border Customs people looked perplexed as to why I done this. When I explained to them I wanted to purchase some items at a local store in Canada but could not use my credit card unless it was activated back in the States. They decided to search my vehicle, which took about 45 minutes, and then let me go. I drove back to the store and purchased the items. I then drew back across the US Customs into northern Idaho. Later in the summer at my first Sundance I used the medallion to protect me from harm as I danced, I stored the horn until I received the rights to pour sweat lodge. Pouring a sweat lodge is slang for the one of the job descriptions of a sweat lodge leader. Pouring water refers to pouring water on the rocks to create steam. I never read the little book. It still sits on my bookshelf.

Second Trip:

Ron Thomas, a friend who supported me during many of my fasts in Alberta drove his truck and trailer up one year so we would have a place to sleep. I thought this was very kind of him. On the way up Highway 95 through northern Idaho's Upper Panhandle I noticed an auto parts store. I had no idea why I look at an auto parts store and why would jump out at me like that. Ron and I crossed the border into Canada and drove to Alberta to the Blood Reserve.
I completed my fast once again, four days with no food or water and five sweat lodges. Sunday morning as we're wrapping up the fast Ron packed up the trailer with all our personal belongings. He strapped the plastic chair to the tongue of the trailer, and off we drove back to Marysville, Washington. As soon as we got on the highway I heard a funny noise.
“ Ron,” I said. “I think I hear a wheel bearing going out. We should stop and check.”
“No, we do not have any wheel bearings going out,” he said. “Everything is fine. That noise is just the wind blowing over the plastic chair.”
We drove for a couple of hours through places with names like Pincher Creek and Crow’s Nest Pass. Finally, we stopped an A&W Root Beer restaurant and gas station to get some food. Once again I mentioned to Ron about the sound that I thought was a wheel bearing going out. I even rolled down the window of his SUV when we were driving away from the A&W so he could hear the noise I was hearing.
“It’s just a plastic chair,” Ron said. “Let it go!”
I felt frustrated he was blowing me off. I felt confident it was the wheel bearing making the noise. We arrived at Kingsgate on the British Columbia-Idaho border crossing, cleared customs, and as we drove off right away Ron panicked.
“What’s that noise?” he said freaking out.
“That noise I've been telling you about, Ron, since we left the Sundance grounds.”
We pulled over. Ron noticed the driver's side wheel on the trailer was smoking and bent at an angle. He started to panic again.
“ I can't leave my trailer here,” he said. “Someone will steal it!”
“Well,” I said. “On the way up to the fast I noticed an auto parts store. Maybe they have the parts for your trailer.”
“This trailer's old,” Ron said with a snort. “Nobody has the parts. We’re going to have to leave it here and hope nobody steals it.”
I convinced him we should at least give it a try. We took the wheel bearings off the bad side of the trailer and drove an hour to the parts store. Turns out we just barely made it as they were closing down in 15 minutes. There was an old man at the counter. When Ron told him what he needed the guy behind the counter asked to see the wheel bearings. He got out his micrometer and measured the wheel bearings, smiled, and told us he will be back in a minute. He came back with six boxes and a tub of grease. He told us they may not be the right part number but they are the right bearing. Ron was in disbelief. I laughed at the synchronicity.
As we drove back Ron was convinced the entire time these bearings would not work. We took the trailer apart completely and installed the new bearings and races. Everything fit perfectly. Ron was shocked but tried to play cool like he always thought everything would work out all along. I started to pay attention more when I noticed people, buildings, or events and what could possibly really be going on in the world. I felt everything is connected.


Third Trip:

It's October 2004, and I was up early by myself for the fall fast. When I arrived the temperature is minus 50 and there’s two feet of snow on the ground. I had several things to accomplish on this trip. One was to meet with Joe Eagle-tail-feather and talk to him about studying under him as a medicine man. The other was to prepare for Sundance. Said I was driving my 4x4 truck and went out playing in the snow. As I drove around I saw three eagles sitting on a fence post talking to each other. I thought this was a little odd but didn't make anything out of it.
I then met with Case, my Sundance leader, to talk to him out of respect for his guidance and how to best approach Joe. He gave me his support, and I went to a sweat the next day to talk with Joe. It was minus 35 that day, we prepared the fire, and Joe called us to get into the sweat lodge. So I put my bathing suit on and without wearing anything else ran through the snow to the sweat lodge. I jumped into the sweat lodge only to see everyone else wearing snowmobile outfits, large down-filled suits, and jumpsuits to keep warm with only five rocks in the lodge. I sat there, and after a few minutes Joe told me I could go get my clothes on if I wanted. I told them by the time I got back to the truck and got my clothes on I would be frozen.
They laughed, and we continued on with the ceremony. I offer Joe a blanket, a warm coat, some tobacco, and ask him if he would teach me. He said he would ask the Spirits. Whatever answer they gave him he would tell me, and he would follow their direction. After the sweat was over, Joe came to me and said the Spirits told him he was to teach me. During the sweat he had a vision of a man wearing a buffalo robe and a buffalo fur hat with his arms spread wide open in a Jesus Christ pose. This man was praying.
I asked the spirits what Joe was praying for, and they said food for his community. These same spirits then told me I was not to purchase meat or hunt any longer. At this time in my life I ate a huge amount of protein and was lifting weights. I felt terrified at the thought of not purchasing meat. How would I survive?
The spirits heard this and responded by telling me to trust my community to take care of me. I left and drove over to the Sundance grounds about 10 miles away. I completed my fast knowing I would be moving up to Alberta the following June. Keith was kind enough to give me a letter of invitation to live on the Blood Reserve, and I was offered free housing. Housing on the reserve, unless it’s new, often needs a complete remodel. Such renovations include countertops, carpets, windows, fixtures, and doors. I spent the next seven months collecting all the stuff I needed to remodel the house I was moving. Got much of it off Craigslist. I also worked with Canadian immigration to make sure I had all my ducks in a row so I could get across the border and live in Canada for two years.

Fourth Trip:

When everything was set, I closed my business and got rid of my house. I loaded up a trailer and truck with bunch of my belongings and left for the big move to Canada on June 25. Once again I was driving up Highway 95 in the northern panhandle of Idaho. This time with Deanne a dear friend of mine who had traveled with me to Sundance the previous year.
We got to the British Columbia US border crossing and after talking with immigration and the border patrol for several hours I was told the immigration officer I had been working with was new. He’d made a mistake. I would now need $70,000 or a house in the United States to show that I was going to leave Canada in two years. Didn’t I just get rid of my house? Paid off all my bills with the money I had? So I could live with no overhead on the reserve?
Canadian Customs told me to turn around and go back into the United States and that I wouldn't be allowed into Canada. I was shocked but not as shocked as my friend Deanne. I suggest we drive back to the nearest town, get some food, and figure out a new plan.
There was a restaurant at the corner of Highway 2 and Highway 95.We stopped there and while eating breakfast I noticed a big, blue diesel repair shop across the street. It jumped out at me as if everything else around it was in a fog. I just thought to myself hmmmm… and suggested to Deanne let's drive around town and see what we can come up with. We spent the day hanging out in Bonners Ferry, Idaho. Three PM rolled around, and I still could not come up with a phone number or any plan for the border crossing. To get some kind of help, any help I drive to the blue building with the diesel shop I had noticed earlier at breakfast. I went in and the gentleman who owns the shop asked how he could help me. I told him my story of the border crossing.
“Well,” he said, “What do you need from me?”
“Just a phone number for the border crossing at Kingsgate,” I replied.
“Well, if you want to get across the border I have a buddy who is retired Border Patrol and he can show you a back road to get across.”
“No,” I said in wonder. “I’ll do this legally but thanks. I just need a phone number.”
So I got the phone number from him and called Canada Customs. They told me I could get across the border if I left everything in the US and pay them a $1000 bond. When I got off the phone the gentleman from the shop asked me again what I needed. I told him I needed a place to store all my stuff while I’m in Alberta Sundancing. He told me bring back the trailer around back. He'd store everything for me till I came back for free. He'd even cover it with a tarp to protect it from the rain. I felt shocked and grateful at the same time that somebody's generosity would allow me to continue my journey.
We unloaded everything and headed for the border. We needed to be there before 5 p.m. and we had an hour’s drive so not much time. When we got to the border I was told I didn't need to pay the thousand dollars and to proceed on to my ceremony. I completed my first year of Sundance that year in 2004. When the dance was over Deanne and I drove back to the diesel shop in northern Idaho. All of my stuff was still there. The man asked what I was going to do with all my stuff.
“I don't know,” I said. “I'm not moving to Alberta.”
“Well,” he said, “there were some people with kids who lived out the backwoods who would appreciate some of that stuff.”
I told him he could take everything he wanted. On the way home once Deanne and I got on I-90 heading west toward Seattle we started talking about why I didn't go to the blue building right after I noticed it. How odd it was we couldn't get help from anyone we asked in Bonners Ferry except the old guy in the blue building.

Struck by Lightening

Struck by Lightning


When I was twenty-eight years old I experienced something only five hundred forty people out of three hundred million experiences each year. I was struck by lightning. The day was sunny and cold, but as I was still wearing shorts and a t-shirt, it definitely wasn’t Arctic cold. It’s three in the afternoon. I wanted to take a nap. I was at my friend Lisa’s apartment. We hung out often, were platonic, and sleeping next to each other during a nap was easy. I fell into a very deep sleep. I’d been working late at night in the music industry as a sound engineer for a rock band and repairing equipment sound equipment during the day. I awoke, startled by the bizarre feeling of coming through a window. I made a gasping sound and woke up Lisa. Scared her, too.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I just came though the window from outside, and it was foggy and snowing,” I said.
“No way,” she said with a look on her face like I was crazy. She got up and opened the curtains.
Lisa looked as shocked as I was for it was snowing outside. It was foggy, too.
I sat on the bed feeling stunned. Then I saw this little gold light move across the ceiling in the bedroom, through the doorway, and into the next room. I thought, “Keep your mouth shut. She’ll think you are crazy if you say anything.” I got up and went into the living room where this same light moved across the ceiling and out through the window.
“I think I need to go now,” I blurted.
“What did you see?” Lisa asked.
“Nothing. Why would you think I saw anything?”
“Wayne, I know you pretty well, and I know you were watching something. Are you going to be OK?” Of course she noticed.
“Ya, I’ll be fine,” I said, feeling confused and terrified.
I got into my car and started to drive south on Interstate 5. The freeway had snow on it, and there were not many cars out. I noticed a King County Sheriff behind me in my lane. I looked to see how the road was up ahead, and I noticed this ball of light about the size of a basketball coming at me from above the 145th Street overpass. The ball of light came right into the windshield and hit me. The next thing I remember I was stopped in the middle lane of the Interstate 5. I sat there all confused. Starting the car, I put it back into gear and drove on up the hill of the freeway.
The Sheriff didn’t pull me over. In fact, he did nothing. I drove back to my house and noticed a small hole in my leg about the size of a dime. I thought I had been struck by lightning. When I arrived home others there immediately asked me what happened and why were I all red? They thought I had been tanning and gotten burnt. The truth is I don’t know what happened other than the results, which is since then, more and more often I know things before they happen. I can tell the future in a vision or by a knowing, and I am correct more then not.
One of the best examples of this was six months later when Lisa and I were driving north on the freeway. We drove around Northgate Mall. I noticed a gentleman driving a blue, four-door sedan. The man was in his fifties, and he caught my attention for two reasons. One, he had a collection of baseball hats in the back window, and second, wore a unique, wool, tweed fedora on an 80 degree day. When we arrived at Lisa’s house, there were some friends hanging out in the parking lot, so we started visiting. All of a sudden I spoke out.
“Hey, you guys, this guy we passed on the freeway at Northgate is going to drive by in a few minutes really slow. He will stop and look at us and then drive off.”
They started teasing me and laughing. Then I said. ”Look, there he is.” He drove down the road and crossed the driveway like a “T.” He stopped in the middle of the street about a 100 feet away and stared right at us for a few minutes, then drove away.
Everyone looked a little shocked and started to laugh uncomfortably. Inside I was feeling scared. I worried people would think I was weird or that I knew the truth about who they really were deep inside their soul. I was afraid my friends would be scared to hang out with me.
As I said earlier, being struck by lightning is a very slim possibility. It’s not one I care to repeat.
Scientific research tells us there usually burns from the electric charge or holes from the exiting of the lightning from the body. I experienced both. Science also supports the theory of people who have been struck by lightning experiencing strong paranormal activity such as extrasensory perception or ESP. The National Weather Service provides data on lightning strikes and survivors. The Lightning Strike and Electric Shock Survivors International (LSESSI) was formed as a support group for survivors of lightning and electrical injury and their friends and families. Both offer stories from survivors who have gained healing abilities, paranormal abilities and raised their IQ’s because of such experiences. I do not recommend anyone go out and attempt to get struck by lightning as the possibility of death is far greater than the possibility of becoming psychic.

My Ear Drum Sings

My Ear Drum Sings


“No ghosts this time,” I say to myself. It is Tuesday evening on April 15, 2003. I’m in Spanaway, Washington and starting to feel strange in my body. I began to get tired in a weird way. I feel disturbed. I have this familiar feeling something is going to happen I cannot control. Something spiritual. I go hang out with some friends for the evening just to make sure everything is OK.
I leave my friends at ten pm. On my way home I call my friend Mary. She is a long-time friend who understands what’s going on when the unusual happens. I drove on home to Seattle, a long drive which allowed for plenty of time to talk. I noticed I could feel into what Mary was saying, as if I'm in her body with the conversation. I was living the conversation the phenomena of the conversation.
After about thirty minutes of travel, I have no idea what happened to Mary and my phone conversation. Did it end, the phone call or did I just hang up on her? I don’t remember.
I find myself outside my home. Strange. The difference between the amount of time usually required for the trip and how long it really took this time was way off. Weird. I hurry into the house and fall into bed, waiting to wake up, ready for work the next day. But I slept four hours and had trouble eating. My body doesn't want food. Not that I'm sick. I just don't need food. I have all the energy I want.
On Wednesday I notice my body feels electric and buzzing. I start to look internally to make sure I’m OK. I am experiencing energy but I do not understand why; my body starts to vibrate very fast. I began to notice people thinking and then I know what people are thinking before they say it.
On Wednesday I am have trouble staying awake. I am tired, but I'm not sleepy, just exhausted. I sleep about three hours, get up and fiddle around the house for hours before going to work on Thursday.
By now I can barely eat any food. I am having difficulty enunciating words. I am open to what people are thinking, and psychically I feel their energy even more. I can hear their thoughts; I can hear their thoughts before they say anything. I can hear what they are thinking or what they're going to do or what song they want to hear on the radio or even what's going to be played on the radio before it comes on.
It’s Friday, the traffic is terrible on the way to work, and I am emotionally exhausted from all the energy that is surging in my body. I can't eat and sleep a few hours at best. I don’t have a need for food, or anything liquid. At this point, as my body-mind races a hundred miles and then a thousand miles an hour. I am downloading information from the universe: new words, images, insights. My mind and body is flooded with new information.
I get up Saturday morning with no interest in eating. I drive from South Seattle to Ballard again and get ready for work. This time my body is having trouble with motor skills. Talking to people in full sentences is difficult. The energy is overwhelming. I try to complete my job, I don’t feel hungry at all but eat some Mexican food anyway. I crunch a few chips with salsa and that's about it. I notice how extremely different I am feeling.
I feel really weird today. I should call 911 or something but stick with the process thinking it will benefit me in the long run spiritually. So I don't call anybody for help. I have no clear understanding of what's going on, but try to be like the Buffalo
I face the storm, keep my head down, and push forward. Like bison on the Great Plains I go into the storm.
I try to sleep on the job on Friday afternoon on Friday, but I can't sleep. I can't eat. All I can do is vibrate and hear everybody's thoughts as if someone turned up the volume of the whole world really loud.
I head home and come back to work Saturday for a few hours. The homeowner says go home. He doesn’t want me to die at his house while I work. I go home. I can't sleep with my electrified body pulsing. I cannot hold still.
I try to relax. I need some sleep. I feel I may get really hungry soon, at least I hope I will. I sure miss food.
I see a red, laser-like light shine in through my bedroom window. Then it quickly shines though the window in the medicine room. I look outside but see nothing. I decide to move the couch in the TV room. I'm tossing and turning on the couch and my body aches from lack of sleep. I turn on the TV and try to relax again.
The TV room faces east with a curtain that divides the TV room from my medicine room. The medicine room runs two-thirds of the length of the house, and is used for ceremonies, drumming, and occasional workshops.
I am awake all Saturday night and all day Sunday. Everything is so loud: the spirits, the noises, water dripping from the faucet.
There are two windows in the medicine room both facing west. Through one of the windows directly behind the couch another light shines through the blinds. It makes a complete circle on the ceiling of the room. I can see the beam of light. I wonder if it‘s a flashlight, but I am too exhausted to get up. My dog Hunter just sits next to me. The light is circling around as if it's searching for something then shines down on the curtains and on the wall and on the floor, it stops.
Then a light comes in from the front blinds that are behind the TV. They are leveler blinds, closed, with solid curtains covering them. Once again this seems odd. The fabric curtains and blinds allow a perfect circle of light to shine through.
Just like in the medicine room the light starts shining on the ceiling and around in the room. Once again looking like it's searching for something. I start to get a little freaked out, but I'm so exhausted I can’t move. I look at my dog again for protection. Hunter just sits there not barking, which is odd since he usually barks when someone is close to the house.
He's not moving around or doing anything. This light in the front continues while another light starts up again in the back windows. Now there are three lights searching around in the house, and then a fourth light points at me, points right at eye level from the front window.
I can hear talking, but I can’t understand what's being said. These lights continue searching around my house for about one and a half hours and then turn off, just disappear. The dog never barks. The neighbors never come over to see what's going on, and nobody tries to break in to the house. There's a short period of time where I doze off and then I'm startled awake by a buzzing noise, kind of like a transformer hum. A light clicks on and darts around the medicine room.
I look up and the room is divided in half with light. Closest to me it shines bright blue, looking like car headlights on a brand-new Porsche. The other half is green. The lights fill the entire room. A light moves back and forth in the room slowly, like it is searching for something, eventually stopping on me.
Just the blue part is highlighting my head, and I hear a voice ask, “Are his eyes open? Because if his eyes are open this will kill him.”
I quickly close my eyes, very tightly, and the next thing I remember is waking up Monday around four in the morning. Blood was on the right side of my face. Blood was on my pillow, too. My ear was bleeding. I no felt high on energy. I’m not hungry or tired, but I am very calm. My body felt Zen-like.
For the next two days I lay on the couch barely able to eat any food. I didn't call anyone or do anything. My ear continued to bleed. On Wednesday afternoon, two days later, I called a friend who I thought might understand. See, in the past I've had experiences that were out of the norm, and he was someone I could talk to about such things. We talked for about an hour before he suggested I go talk with an Aboriginal medicine man who deals with alien abduction.
I also called my Sundance leader.
“Something just happened,” I said. Before I could say anything else he interrupts me.
“Wayne, was the light blue?”
Stunned, I didn't answer.
“Wayne,” he asked again urgently, “was the light blue?”
I told him yes, feeling shocked that he would have any idea of what had gone on. Especially since I hadn't said anything about what happened. But now I did and described the whole thing.
“Oh,” said Medicine Man, “it was the grand fathers. They were doing some healing work on you. Don't worry about it, Wayne. You’ll be okay.”
Which was a relief on some level, but it was still an unexplainable experience to me.
I did notice was that my intuition had raced to the next level, and I understood more of what people were saying without words being spoken. I could see what was needed in the world without something being asked of me.
I met with Medicine Man as directed a few weeks later. He talked to me about the smells and sounds. He knew the smell of metal, the sounds, and the white noise, about the light, the bright white light and the two colored lights I had experienced.
We also talked about other people's experiences so I could get some understanding of my experience.
Something happened during this time to my brain. One side of my brain was completely numb for three or four days. The entire right side of my brain was numb. It was as if my IQ or my ability to think or reason had changed. I am a different person after this experience than I was before. I feel more compassionate, more in tune with a world view of compassion, non-violence and love. It is like I know what is really going on at any moment. I'm able to look at people and can tell what they really feel and think, deep in their heart. I wouldn’t recommend this path to anyone, but if you are willing to open up to this experience as I had to, you will be rewarded or cursed depending on your outlook in a huge way.

When Your Children See Spirits

When Your Children See Spirits

by

Wayne Carter


You wake up to screams coming from your daughter’s bedroom. You jump up and run in there.

“I saw a ghost,” she cries. “It had a black face and fire in its eyes. It was holding a …”

You interrupt her nonsense, telling her it was just a nightmare, and urge her to go back to sleep.

But what if she is actually seeing spirits like I did from an early age? My parents never understood. They were rational adults, and found my paranormal gifts weird and creepy. Those lonely, fearful years of childhood could have been easier if my parents had considered I was telling the truth. Are you as a parent willing to give your child the benefit of the doubt? Are you willing to open your mind to the possibility they’re communicating with non-physical beings?

Here’s my story. I am five years old. My family and I live in Eugene, Oregon. I am playing outside behind our house with a few other kids as we dig to China. After digging down three feet, we discover arrowheads, pottery, and other Native American artifacts. We each grab at the treasure, trade with one another, and finally go home. I am left standing in a daze, feeling oddly transformed by touching ancient artifacts.

This is when I first remember seeing spirits. That night while trying to sleep I saw a shadow move across the bedroom wall. I looked closer, and saw that it was actually many shadows in a row, looking like a group of people. Terrified, I yelled at the top of my lungs. My parents ran into the room, turned on the light and held me, thinking it was a nightmare.

As soon as they left the room, I saw the bodies moving again. I shrieked. This happened several times, and my parents got more frustrated with each episode. Finally I stopped crying out and just watched the spirits on the wall. I felt as terrified of my parents’ anger as I was of the shadows.

Another unforgettable experience occurred when I was eight years old .We lived in an old, stucco house in Fullerton, California. To get to my bedroom, I took a left down a long hallway that ran the length of the house. On the right side of the hallway was a closet which I could see from my bedroom. When we moved in, I found a knife, a Bible, and a skeleton key in the closet. Sounds like the plot for a movie, but I swear I’m not making this up.

One night I heard a voice coming from the end of the hall near the closet. I watched in terror as a spirit looked directly at me and then went into the closet. For several long minutes I lay there waiting for something else to happen, but nothing did.

After several weeks of this scene repeating itself each night, the unthinkable happened. Instead of going back into the closet, the entity shut the closet door, and walked down the hall into my bedroom. I couldn’t make out what he or she was, but it came straight towards me, taking a right at the foot of the bed and standing at the left footboard. I started screaming in terror. My mother was the first to arrive.

“What is it?”

I pointed my finger at the spirit beside my bed.

“That!” I whispered.

She took one glance and fainted, hitting the floor with a big thud. I screamed even harder then, because whatever it was did not leave. My father dashed in, and lifted my mother onto the bed. The spirit left sometime during all this commotion, and I never saw it again in that house.

My mom denied seeing anything until just a few years ago. We went out to dinner on Mother’s Day, and she said, “Remember when you pointed to that thing in your bedroom as a kid?”

“You mean in California?”

“Yes.”

After a very long pause, she admitted seeing something that night. She was still unable to make sense of it or articulate what she saw. Nevertheless, I felt validated that she would bring it up after all these decades. And I felt sad that our conversation hadn’t happened three or four decades ago.

Gary Schwartz, Ph.D., notes in The Afterlife Experiments that intuitive children have important gifts that we should take seriously:

Children often report seeing ghosts and angels. Maybe they’re really seeing spirits and should be encouraged to cultivate these experiences so that by the time they are adults; these latent talents, of seeing spirits, might be developed into meaningful skills that could substantially aid society.

That’s what happened with me. I still see spirits on a regular basis and rely on insights from the other world in my practice as a shaman, healer, and seminar leader. But sometimes I wonder how much more developed my intuition might be today if my parents had had a deeper understanding of my paranormal abilities. This has given me a passion for helping parents nurture psychic attributes in children.

Why do children see entities that are invisible to the rest of us? One theory is that children have not yet trained their perception to correspond with adult versions of reality. Adults are programmed to reject certain images, noises, and feelings as unreal if they are scientifically unproven. Or as Shakti Gawain puts it in Developing Intuition, “Many of us have programmed our intellect to doubt our intuition.”

Most parents teach their children at a very young age to block psychic images. They tell their children that imaginary friends are not real, and that visions are bad dreams. This sends a not-so-veiled message that children should mistrust what they actually experience, and rely on adult reality instead. At the same time, it robs children of a sense of self-trust that they will so desperately need to find their way in a world of increasing chaos.

The existence of ghosts has been debated for centuries. Now, however, breakthrough technology is poised to capture on film and audio what many believe to be images of the supernatural. When this happens we may see many confused and perhaps chastened adults forced to admit the veracity of their children’s visions.

Specifically, what can parents do? Here are a few guidelines that I wish someone had passed along to my own parents:

1. One of the most healing things to do is reach out to others, through sharing stories or use of support groups. The awareness of others with similar life experiences will help you feel more at ease.
2. Respect the validity of what your children are saying. Yes, kids have very vivid imaginations, and try to get attention however they can. But you’ll know that children are telling the truth by the despair in their voices, the sweat on their foreheads or their racing hearts.
3. Educate yourself. If you have a child with psychic tendencies, read up on the literature, and watch movies available in any good new age bookstore or online.
4. Reassure your children that they are not weird or crazy, and talk with other family members who might have similar experiences to share.
5. See a paranormal counselor, or someone who has worked with kids who have gifts, attend as a family to show your support.
6. Try sending your kid to day camps and week-long camps to develop their abilities and gain some normalness to the situation. Some programs are offered through a city sponsor.


My greatest hope is to educate parents in ways to support children through their exploration of phenomena, and learn to harness the power of the gifts as I did later in my adult life to make changes in the world.


Resources for Research:

ABC News. 10 March 2006. http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/AmericanFamily/story?id=1332961
Carroll, Lee and Tober, Jan. The Indigo Children. United Kingdom: Hay House, 1999.
Gawain, Shakti. Developing Intuition. California: Nataraj, 2002.
ProQuest. Lindeman, Marianna, Aarnio, Kia. Skeptic. “The Origin of Superstition, Magical Thinking, and Paranormal Beliefs: An Integrative Model,”
Altadena: 2007. Vol. 13, Issue. 1; pg. 58, 9 pgs
Schwartz, Gary E. The Afterlife Experiments. New York: ATRI Books, 2002.

Wild boy Snow Photo's

These pictures were taken by a normal digital camera over the period of about 45 minutes outside of Granite Falls, WA. I did not use a filter, special lense or any kind of software modification to add the purple hue or make the light look like it does. The light actually extends from the trees out over a house abour 100'. If you look at the top of the pictures you see the developing of the clouds starting to funnel into the trees like a vacume sucking smoke.








Wild boy Photo's