Thoughtful Thursday-Do the Dead Affect the Living?

Photo courtesy of Matt Harris via Flickr

I've heard of ghosts affecting the living in ways that manifest as sickness, paranoia, anxiety and depression. I've even heard of ghosts affecting the living in ways that make them fight, drink and (in extreme cases) commit crimes. On the flip side of the negative, ghosts have been said to offer guidance, comfort and help people make life-saving decisions (ie. taking a different route to work--thereby avoiding an unforeseen car accident).

So...do the dead affect the living?


There are three categories of thought when it comes to this topic.

Self-fulfilling Prophesies: The negative: if you live in constant fear of ghosts=negative entities; then that fear can affect your health in many different ways.
The positive: if you have the outlook that the dead are here to help and guide us, positive influences are experienced as well.

"Out of the Blue" Feelings: "Out of the blue" feelings such as anger, depression or elation have been attributed to the influence of spirits. Sensitive people are said to be especially affected.

Spiritual Residue: While house-shopping--have you ever experienced feelings of anger or anxiety upon entering the house? If there was a great deal of fighting, physical, emotional, drug or alcohol abuse, it is said to leave behind spiritual residue. Until the "residue" is cleansed, the house will hold onto those feelings, which in turn, affect the living. (Likewise, experiencing feelings of peace and happiness would be the same kind of residue.)

What do you believe?

Thoughtful Thursday-Wildflowers

Continuing with flash fiction based on photo inspiration...
A peek into something bigger—most likely, they will come together as a full-length book later. Enjoy!

Photo courtesy of Neal. via Flickr

Wildflowers

It was the wishing that kept her alive.

She lay in a field of wildflowers. Plucking a petal from one, she flicked it away. “He loves me.” She plucked another, crushing its soft smoothness between her thumb and forefinger. “He loves me not.” She rolled over onto her side. Her hair, once secured around the crown of her head, was now tangled with leaves and trailed in a loose braid.

He appeared seemingly from nowhere; walking through the field and crushing wildflowers under his boots. Dressed in black from head-to-toe, his crisp, white button-up shirt stood in stark contrast. He looked as if he were off to a wedding. Or a funeral.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” Removing his top hat, he dusted it across his knee. Long, dark hair blew in the breeze.

“I’m lying here.” She didn't bother keeping the resentment from her voice. He was not the first to disturb her peace, though this one hadn't come the same way the others had.

“I can see that.” His eyes flashed annoyance. “You're in my field.”

“It isn't your field. ‘Tis mine. I've been here longer than you've crossed it.”

“Indeed?” 

She studied his clothing and demeanor; a curious mixture of old and new.

“Well, then. I apologize.” A bemused smile traced his lips. “Perhaps we may share?”

She sat up, the lace trim at the neck of her dress suddenly binding. “Perhaps.”

He settled beside her, long-legged and taking up what seemed like the last available space. “I didn't expect to see anyone else.”

“Nor did I.” She couldn't stop her gaze from travelling up to his face. It was an interesting face. Dark eyes, made to appear darker by the eyeliner he was wearing. A proud nose. Well-shaped lips. A silver ring hung from one of his earlobes. Only one. It matched the silver buttons along his black velvet coat. She gathered her long skirts closer.

“I started to turn back…” His gaze slid towards the line of trees. “But then I saw you from the woods.”

She caught the confusion on his brow. “There is but one path from here.”
It was the wishing that kept her alive.

He turned his attention to her face. “Seems a lonely path.” 

“I suppose it is…for some.”

“Will you walk it with me?” 

She worried her long braid and dropped her gaze.  “I am not ready to leave.”

"Neither was I," he replied. “I suppose we shall sit here and take in the scenery until we're both ready.”

“I suppose we shall.” The crushed petal she held between her thumb and forefinger slipped away like an afterthought. 

The wildflower-scattered graveyard once held headstones. They had crumbled to dust long ago, the dead now forgotten.

It was the wishing that kept them alive.

#Paranormal Wednesday-Phone Calls from the Other Side

Many people have reported being on the receiving end of a telephone call that appears to have come from the deceased. The communication is usually simple and brief, and it is nearly always a one-time occurrence.

Ordinarily, EVP's are obtained by those who try and communicate with the dead by means of a recording device (intentional paranormal research). The recipients of phone calls however, are seldom involved in paranormal research. There are numerous documented cases such as these from all over the world and they seem to fall into three categories.

1. The call is from a person who has just recently died. Occasionally, the person receiving the call does not know at that time that the caller is dead and believes he/she is talking to the living person.

2. The call is an urgent message from a friend or relative who explains that they are placing the call for the deceased. Later, the recipient learns that the friend or relative never made the call, although he or she thought about doing so. The phone voice will often mimic that of the living person perfectly. However, a few recipients have described these voices as mechanical or flat.

3. A phone call and conversation with the person whom the caller later discovers was dead at the time the call was placed.

Many years ago I received a phone call from an older lady. It was a very bad connection and sounded far away. She gave me her name and asked to speak to Robert. When I told her she had the wrong number, the woman seemed confused. She said she needed to tell Robert something and could I please go get him. I politely told her again that she had the wrong number. Eventually, she hung up. Later, I mentioned the phone call to a neighbor of mine. She got a funny look on her face--the name the older lady gave me was someone who had died in the house many, many years ago. Robert was her husband and had passed away six months after his wife. I thought this was odd because my phone number would have not been known by the old lady or anyone in her social circle.

Unfinished business? Explainable? If it was a message from the other side, I wish I could have helped in some way. I guess I'll never know.