Have you ever walked into a place and felt bad vibes? Did you say to yourself “This place is haunted” ?
If it was deserted, maybe you did.
Bad energy in a location does not translate to a haunting. Our ability to pick up residual emotions does not equal an ability to detect ghosts.
Energy is all around us. Have you ever enetered a room right after there’d been an argument? You probably felt an almost palpable hostility in the air. Or, perhaps you showed up late to a lecture only to find that the stares of the other attendees left you feeling awkward or embarrassed. These are examples of our ability to pick up energy; human energy.
Houses absorb emotions. Emotions are energy and energy permeates just about everything, including the walls, floors, and ceilings that form the places we live.
Some are more sensitive than others. Even the most oblivious among us will pick this energy up on a subtle level. More commonly, however, we will feel the energy of a place and will either be in harmony with it, or not. And if we aren’t, we can choose to do something about it, or try to ignore it.
When we toured our current house, it was empty of any furniture. Overall, I liked the house and saw its possibilities, but I also immediately picked up feelings of sadness and anger and loss. I told my husband, but added, “I can handle it,” referring to my ability to clear spaces and reset their energy. I also felt that the positive energy of our family would supercede what I was feeling.
Within days of moving in, I began to work on making the space ours. We’d been through a lot with the move and the sooner we felt settled, the better for us all. And then a strange thing began to happen. Sutblely at first, but growing stronger by the hour, layers of differing and sometimes conflicting energies began to seep into my awareness. Some rooms had stronger emotional residue than others.
For instance, when I was in our dining room, I felt homosexual energy. I had lived in San Francisco and had been in the Castro on Halloween. I knew the feeling. I wasn’t upset by it in the slightest. I simply said “there is an energy of a specific type in this space.” In fact, there was also a tremendous amount of happy energy in the same space. I knew the room had been used for entertaining, for sharing good times with friends. I told my husband, ‘This was a happy room.”
I looked forward to enjoying meals with my family in such a positive setting.
Conversely, when I was in one of the upstairs rooms, I felt very uneasy. I couldn’t stand being in it for long. I knew the way to fix this but I didn’t take any immediate action. There was plenty to do as it was and I wanted to see if anyone else in the family picked up on it before I made it a priority.
When I was cleaning the mirror in the bathroom, a terrible negative energy surged through me the moment I touched the glass. It was accompanied by images and I could hear arguing. Shaken, I walked out of the bathroom and told my husband, “Something terrible happened here. I don’t know what but it is so very terrible.”
When I was in the kitchen, I felt sadness, anger, and loss. I also felt a different attitude. I told my husband, “College kids lived here. Frat boys, I think. They partied big time. Responsibility wasn’t as high on their agenda as having fun.”
When I was near the front entrance, I felt anger. An intense nasty anger.
Prioritizing projects, I set out to clear the space, adjusting and reprioritizing as I went along (and as I learned that other family members were picking up negative energy).
I have to admit, this place was a big test of my abilities. There were a few times I wondered what I’d gotten us into and vowed never again to be so flippant as to think “I can fix it” without having a better understanding of just what it was I was dealing with. Negative emotions can be powerful and have a very adverse effect on the inhabitants of a place.
It wasn’t just me. In addition to family members picking up energies in different places, both inside and out, we had a serviceman pick up on it. “I detect a lot of anger,” he told me, “loss. It’s a guy and he’s mad over the loss.” He went on to tell me in almost the exact same words, some of the things I’d told my husband. It was wonderfully validating.
Proof delivered. Several months after we moved in, we were talking with the neighbors. Quite a few of them told us how happy they were to have a nice family in the house. They went on to share stories of previous residents, of which there’d been several.
At one point, homosexuals had lived here. There were college kids who had lived here. And at one point, the actions of previous residents had warranted a visit from a SWAT team.
I glanced up at my husband. Every single energy I’d picked up on. And not one of them was a ghost.
