Getting to Know Your Ghost

With Naked Gardening day, tomorrow…I discovered I had more time on my hands. Particularly, now that I don’t have to pick an outfit out!

To be honest, I have been particularly obsessed with these days of wine, roses and too much time on our hands.

Thus, like Leonard Nimoy, I went in search of! In search of all things, paranormal, strange and unique. After all…May 3rd is National Paranormal day.

As luck would have it…while walking the dog in dark forbidden forests…I have found my own ‘ghost’ and my dog…did the same.

Below is photographic evidence of what we encountered:

18% of Americans have seen a ghost!
More women than men believe one can be…cursed!

**Most of us believe that the ghost of Christmas Past will come a knockin’ long before, E.T., stops by for a visit.

F.Y.I.

If you were obliged to hunt ghosts. Such as I do on a rainy, damp night, sleeping the back of my Honda Element. Just myself, the Dog and strange noises in the night. Resting uneasily at the free campsites offered by Park Rangers, along the Lost River highway.

If you are just as…curiously, freaky, as I am…

There are rules one must pay attention to:

$29.95
  • Get to know your ghost
  • Ask permission to be there. Personally, I have a bad habit of entering abandoned houses for some good pictures. Next time I need to remember to ask if I can upload to instagram! This is their house! Not mine!
  • Be curious but Be safe! If it says, do not trespass…do so with caution!
  • Carry with you and this is very important, a 1/4 ounce to offer up as a sacrifice, a poop bad (for when you get the shit scared out of you) an a Ghost Pro Meter for beginners!
Remember:
Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us.


In the end, after my first encounter in the forests so dark and deep, I have discovered some key phrases to communicate with the dead.

Give the new friend…the benefit of the doubt!

Oh, hey, strange finding you out of here! I’m staring at you…not because you’re a ghost! But whomever does your hair…make sure to give ’em a tip.

Keep it simple, stupid! I found that cutting to the chase is the best way to go!

This is where I go to pee in the woods. It isn’t far from the site and I don’t have to stumble around in the dark for bathroom handles. So…
this is my spot and it bothers me when you are around all the time.  Would you please leave?

Sometimes, these wood sprites wish to want to just sit down and talk. They haven’t had any real communication since the battles at Fort Constitution!

I always begin this sketchy conversation in a friendly manner:

Do you know you’re dead (sometimes, like us, ghosts are not quick on the upswing.)

Do you want a rum and coke? Ghosts have wants too!

Here is the last and vital tip:

Let them know you are of the physical world. This is your crib…not theirs! Madonna comes in handy for this exchange:

I am a material girl
You know that we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl

…come and remind me
 who you are
 have you traveled far
…come and remind me
who you are
have you traveled far
are you made of stardust too
are the angels after you
tell me what I am to do
but until then I’ll save your side of the bed
just come and sing me to sleep
Emilie Autumn

…Bobby Sands

Weeping Winds

“Oh! Cold March winds your cruel laments…

abandone-3Are hard on prisoners’ hearts,
For you bring my mother’s pleading cries
From whom I have to part.
I hear her weeping lonely sobs
Her sorrows sweep me by,
And in the dark of prison cell
A tear has warmed my eye.

Oh! Whistling winds why do you weep
When roaming free you are,
Oh! Is it that your poor heart’s broke
And scattered off afar?
Or is it that you bear the cries
Of people born un-free,
Who like your way have no control
Or sovereign destiny?

Oh! Lonely winds that walk the night
To haunt the sinner’s soul
Pray pity me a wretched lad
Who never will grow old.
Pray pity those who lie in pain
The bondsman and the slave,
And whisper sweet the breath of God
Upon my humble grave.

Oh! Cold March winds that pierce the dark
You cry in aged tones
For souls of folk you’ve brought to God
But still you bear the moans.
Oh! Weeping wind this lonely night
My mother’s heart is sore,
Oh! Lord of all breathe freedom’s breath
That she may weep no more.

Who is Bobby Sands?  Who is willing to die for their beliefs?  Or, why does our ‘stance’ outlive our ego?  For that matter, when is enough…enough?  In the end, does anything but death get accomplished?

I…Digress

To digress;

RandomwordbyRuth...just another lesbian 4 Hillary!
RandomwordbyRuth…just another lesbian 4 Hillary!

“to stray off of something, to wander from a path, or to turn aside, etc.”.

As the smoke dissipated into the gray skies of New Hampshire, Thursday morn…I struggled with my steps.  The two dogs accompanying me?  Well, we all enjoy ‘quiet’ in different ways…

Recently, walking the old orphanage grounds…plots of land that have now become a new and improved shelter for those in hopes of finding recovery, my roots in sobriety have filled the earth.

Looking about, there is an ancient farm…still in running condition.  Buildings of brick and mortar that laid out the histories of forgotten children…circa, 1900 or so.  And, fresh faces of hope…Hope in kicking the horrible and nasty disease called addiction.

Even with the gods frowning down with rain and mist, I could not be persuaded from the mood I had found.

And, so…I digress…

Attempts at spirituality can be fleeting for anyone…if we were to be honest.  I remember thinking chastising my dogs for being…you guessed it, dogs…

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could bottle moments of clarity?”

As I turned the corner, towards a river, oh so cold, a Canadian Goose, took flight.  Really a sight to see.  Even the dogs took  in a moment of silence.

What have I been so frightened lately?

Had it been the powerful pain that continues to grow with every passing day.  Aches and ailments from playing too many sports.

I played semi pro softball in North Carolina, took one hit too many, defending a strange plate by my feet.

I guess, that is neither here nor there.  I wake in pain, I walk in pain, I live pain.

But this…I can walk through.  But this…I will take and make my own.

The true dilemma?digrese 1

Doubt!  Buddhist will tell you…there is no room for doubt.  So, okay, I will call it, I digress.

Of course, I need to digress.  Truth of the matter?  Recently, memories of past somewhat violent, homophobic events…have haunted me.  Urging me to question, who am I voting for?  Why is it so difficult for people to just love?

This really is not a political post.  Though it does tie into current day issues.

So many people have only just begun to accept my kind.  And, over the past week, I held them captive with the anger I had built over the past forty some odd years.

I texted a friend today, while watching the river flow, the birds scatter…

“Did you know lesbians of a certain age, do not always like gay men?”

When I had lived in North Carolina…I met a woman who told me she was a ‘separatist’!  Not being certain of what she had meant…and certainly intrigued by her ‘physique’…I played the follower.

…separatist feminists do not believe that men can make positive contributions…

Awful to admit!  But, indeed, for a very short period of time…I fell victim to conformity, prejudice and bias.

Today…the one political item?  Hillary Clinton…seemingly, hadn’t come out, in my opinion, soon enough, voicing her need for equality for all.

I sat in judgment.

How dare she?

Who else can I choose?

And,

What was I thinking…supporting her?

Towards the end of my time out in the woods, today, I asked my Higher Power for assistance with my current situation.

Not for the shooting pain in the spine, not the stabs of knife like aches in my knees, not anything that would be obvious with a gait of discomfort.

I asked, simply, please help me to be less judgmental…more mindful!

We all adjust our beliefs, our soul’s purpose…from time to time.  It is called, doubt, it is called, self inventory, it is called whatever…I want it to be.

I didn’t dwell long in the ‘separatism’ crowd.  Didn’t feel right.  I had met so many gay men.  People dying from A.I.D.S.  And, those, helping to assist their friends to a dignified death.

It’s easy to fall victim to the ideas of others.  To not give much thought…until faced with important personal decisions.

Who am I to judge, HIllary, for taking time for perspective, and coming out of the closet…with the right decision?

The truth is sometimes what we want  it to be.  And, always, in the same place we last left it.
The truth is sometimes what we want it to be. And, always, in the same place we last left it.