Month: July 2017

The Beach

/ A. Elise Smith / Leave a comment

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Tis the season for vacations! Everyone is running like hell (and understandably so) to get sand, sun, and relaxation at the closest beach they can find. But have you all ever wondered why the overall favorite location for relaxation is the beach? Do you ever wonder that on a spiritual or energy based level there is something else going on? This observation of human behavior will be our topic of discussion in this article.

 

In most religious faiths salt water is a staple, you can find it in basins, pools, spray bottles, water features, and in hand held containers with symbols etched or draw on the outside to further its protective and cleansing properties. It is something that people of all religious backgrounds can agree on, salt water is essential.

 

The ocean, being the largest cleanser and purifier on the planet, wipes all energy away from everything it touches. Which then leaves everything open to be infused with whatever energies and impressions you choose to.

 

As a psychic, one thing has always stood out for me when I visit the beach, it is so quiet. And I am not talking about the kids playing, or the adults letting their hair down with a favorite beverage, or the music bumping from speakers… I am talking about spiritual activity and the ever-present hum of astral noise. There could literally be a house party going on next door to me and I would be on the porch swing with a smile on my face, telling my spouse how wonderfully quiet it is. It is hard to explain to people who do not hear it, but every moment of every day, there is noise and we can never get away from it. We get used to hearing it but no matter what, it is there, buzzing and humming in our mind like a speaker has been implanted into our brain. I can literally feel the humming fade as I drive closer to the beach.

 

The beach my family has frequented since I was a baby is located on an island/peninsula (depending on the water level) that is connected to the main land by a bridge. Crossing that bridge is like flipping a switch and I become a “normal” human being. For several days, I am no longer a psychic, I am just me. It is both lovely and terrifying at the same time.

 

A lot of the beach houses located on or close to the waterfront tend not to be haunted. Now, of course this is a generality and there are always exceptions, but those are quite rare. For the most part, the house itself is not the one that is connected to spirits, most of the time the people residing within the home are the one harboring the spirits.

 

I have a family member that notoriously has “bad luck” in the way that they always encounter hurricanes whenever they go to a beach. It does not matter what time of year, how well they try to preplan, or even what beach location they choose on the east coast. There is something about this person that seems to attract these intense storms from the ocean water. At first we all thought it was merely that, simply bad luck, but after so many years of occurrences that are virtually unexplainable, I have come to another theory. I believe that this person carries a force with which nature cannot ignore, there is a certain need to cleanse the space wherever they go. Now, I know what you might be thinking, that sounds very ominous. What’s amazing is that it always happens before or the beginning of their travel, which indicates something far less sinister at play here. It indicates that the need for peace is so strong with this person that nature is literally cleansing the area in preparation for them. Now this may not be within their control at all, maybe they have a sixth sense as to when the cleansing will happen and subconsciously choose times and places accordingly. Regardless of whomever is doing the controlling here, the fact still remains that it is a steady reoccurrence.

 

For a bit of background, this person I am referring to tends to shoulder more than they should. They work incredibly hard for little to no payoff, and they tend to stock pile the need to relax in order ‘cash in’ at a later date. Then once or twice a year they get to let all of the stress out in order to be cleansed of their burdens for a time. To essentially drain the negative out from within themselves in order to create room to store up the future ever-present supply around them. And where is their location of choice to release all of these compounded energies, you ask? The biggest cleanser on the planet, the ocean. Then like clockwork, every single time, the ocean sprays massive amounts of salt water all over the area in which this person is about to arrive to release all of that pent up burden they carry.

 

Now, it is of course just a theory, and the possibility that this person could just have really bad luck is not exactly ruled out. But doesn’t the theory somehow make sense?

 

I do realize that lots of people do precisely that same thing when they go to the ocean on their annual vacations, but let me ask you this…. Do you all get in the ocean at least once while you are there? By my guess, most of you will say, “Well, of course, that’s the whole point.” I know that I do every time, at least once, no matter what the weather. The person I am referring to with the “bad luck”, never goes into the water. You may think I am joking, but I am completely serious, this person will NOT go into the ocean. I have no idea what the root cause of that is, whether preference or a past trauma, regardless it is a large factor behind this.

 

Whether people are aware of it or not, there is a reason why we all go to the ocean to feel better. On a biological level, salt water does amazing things for your body when used as rinses to ward off infections. So think of it as your soul warding away the negativity we feel around us in order to rejuvenate for the next round.

 

Next time you are at the beach, take a moment and think about that when you enter the water. Imagine yourself letting all the negativity around you simply dissipate into the water. Imagine all the stresses you harbor not being able to biologically survive in that salt water. Let the water disinfect you of all the burdens you feel. Then when you step back out, feel how light your soul is, feel the relief of your body being cleansed, and allow your mind to focus on positivity being infused within you.

 

Have a great vacation everyone.

 

A. Elise

Cleansing the past.

/ A. Elise Smith / Leave a comment
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When I was a kid, I used to have to go to my fathers house for summers. My parents were divorced and during a period of time, we lived in a different state from my father. To make up for the loss of time, the court system agreed to the duration of the summer months devoted to my fathers house to balance it out. This lasted about 4 years, but before that time and after, we lived about 45 minutes away. True to the 90’s, joint custody consisted of every other weekend and every Wednesday evening spending time at the “non-custodial” parents home. In my case, it was my father.
During the summer months I spent at my fathers house, my days went like this. Every day, Monday through Friday, my father and stepmother would go to work. For those 2 to 3 summer months I spend out of the entire year they would never take time off while we were visiting.
During this time, we had a very strict set of rules. I was not allowed to watch TV, but even if we could sneak it, they did not have cable or an antenna, so at best you could get a couple fuzzy daytime TV shows. I lived everyday for the 30 minutes that Roseanne would come on, it was the highlight of my days. That was the most I could sneak without being found out. The internet was not like it is today, it was dial-up, which would use the phone line connection. It was a risk to use because it would cut off your home phone line, so if anyone called and couldn’t get through, they new someone was using the internet. We had one old apple computer that my stepmother kept locked at all times, but even if you could get a few moments on it, it would take hours to start and connect to anything internet based. Cell phones were not a common thing either, they were still only for the super rich.
I was not allowed to turn on the air-conditioning units. They did not have central air or climate control in the house. There was a couple window units placed throughout the house, but were generally positioned in the rooms my father and stepmother would stay in.
I was not allowed to leave the house to play with neighborhood kids. If I begged my friends parents to give me a ride, I was not allowed to go over to visit friends from school. I was expressly forbidden to visit my grandparents, the sweetest people on the planet, who lived right down the street. Mainly because they were my mothers parents, so my father and stepmother had an issue with them in general.
The food in the fridge was off limits. We were not allowed to touch leftovers or cook anything that was in the fridge. If we snuck a couple bites of anything, we were punished and scolded. I discovered that in the pantry there were expired dry goods that didn’t seem to have been moved in a very long time. I began to systematically note what was never touched. After about a week, I made my first move, Ramen Noodles. Much to my dismay, after I cooked them, I realized that bugs had gotten into the packaging. By this point in the summer I was running out of other options, I had also lost a bit of weight as well. Knowing that in many countries they find a lot of their nutrition from eating bugs, I knew that as long as I boiled it, it should be ok.
I was 13.
I learned very quickly to not look at what I was eating, and to teach my brain to ‘turn off’ when I needed to. Hunger can teach you amazing things about yourself. Since I had to make this food source stretch for a couple months, I would only eat them once every couple days. After that ran dry, I went to instant oatmeal and grits, all of which were infested with bugs. I am telling you right now, boiling water became my go to – everything I could find, I boiled it, then consumed it.
We had a list of chores we had to do every day. The bathrooms were cleaned at least once a week and the floors vacuumed every day. We would have to change the sheets on all beds, wash them, then replace them every other day or so. Pretty normal stuff and I learned very fast.
We did not have a dishwasher, so it was my job to wash every dish that was used after every meal. My father and step mother would cook dinner only. It was usually until the meat was bone dry, similar to jerky, and there were so many spices that you were picking rosemary out of your gums for days. You learned to make due when that was the only meal you were given each day. On average I would stay up until 9 or 10 pm washing dishes, as my father and step mother watched TV in the other room. They insisted this built character, and in hindsight maybe it did a little, but overall it just built resentment.
It was also my responsibility to mow the lawn, maintain any yard work, and feed the two dogs that were chained up in the back yard all year round. If there was any upkeep that needed to be done on or around the property, that was on me. All during the peak of Summer in Virginia. The temperatures would get up to the mid to high 90’s, with a humidity level so high that if it got a slight percentage higher would mean you were literally swimming.
We had a 25 x 25 foot garden in the back yard because my step mother loved fresh tomatoes and herbs. It was my job to weed it every other day and to water it at least once a day. Every season it was my job to dig up everything, turn over the soil, and fertilize it. One year my step mother found out that I really hate eating raw tomatoes, so she doubled her tomato crops and made me care for them. Tomatoes require constant watering, especially in the full sun, during the peak summer months. When they would finally ripen, my step mother would slice them onto a plate, stick it in front of me at dinner and force me to eat them all. My father would sit in cowering silence as my step mother smiled maliciously at me. What they hadn’t realized was that by this point I had been living off of bug infested food for months. I looked my step mother straight in the eye as I crammed a handful of tomato into my mouth, then swallowed them whole without chewing. She was so angry; she called me disgusting and doubled my chores. In my mind I was doing as I was told, but I was quickly coming to the realization that no matter what I did it was never going to be done the ‘right’ way.
The room I was allowed to sleep in was in the attic, but I was only permitted to sleep there if there were no guests currently staying with us at the house. It had one window fan and no air-conditioning. It would get upwards of 110 degrees in that room. One day a window air conditioning unit was installed. I was so excited. I remember feeling utter relief that I could finally get some sleep after weeks of sweating through my clothing every night. Finally, I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night due to the symptoms of heat stroke. I could barely contain the excitement….UNTIL they informed me that I was not allowed to use the window air conditioning unit, ever.
I laid in bed staring at that window AC unit, like a big red button with a sign attached saying, “Do Not Push”. Every night it was just there tormenting me, while I sweat out 50% of my bodyweight. The heat got worse as the summer went on, and all the while I was begging the powers at be to let me fall asleep. I would sneak downstairs in the dead of night to drink water and lay on the cool linoleum until my legs stop shaking.
After a few weeks, in a moment of weakness during a particularly humid period of days, I turned on the AC unit. It was the best sleep I had experienced in my life. It was so comfortable that I didn’t wake up in time to turn it back off. When my step mother woke up to go to work, she heard it running. I was woken up by her crashing into the bedroom door, screaming at the top of her lungs about how I disrespected her wishes. I was punished with names and endless scolding. The rare time I could actually catch a TV show was taken away as well. And at this point my chores had already been so increased, that they were coming up with random tasks and adding them on for good measure.
Turning on that AC unit was the straw that broke the camels back. I was lectured, scolded, and mentally abused for days. I was told that I was lucky I was even allowed to sleep there. I was lucky that my father followed the Virginia Court systems wishes to see me, let alone spend time with me. I was lucky that I wasn’t being abused physically, because in this situation it would be a normal occurrence. But I was lucky because they were kind enough to look past my flaws.
When we moved back into the Virginia area and lived 45 mins away from my fathers house again, the ‘every other weekend’ routine kicked back into gear. I was told that all of my weekly chores would be condensed into each weekend that I visited their home. I worked from sun-up to sun-down. Housekeeping, lawn care, pet care, dish washer, carpentry assistant, maid, resident ‘whipping boy’, gopher, patsy, entertainment, servant, and all around punching bag. I had gotten so good at doing my chores that they started accusing me of not doing them at all. Stating that things looked or smelled too nice for someone like me to have done it. I would have to use an exorbitant amount of bleach because they insisted they couldn’t smell it, so I must be lying about actually doing the work.
Much like Daryl from ‘The Walking Dead’, I learned to adapt and to even thrive in some instances. I learned skills that the average kid does not. I am definitely not justifying their behavior by saying that all children should be treated like this in order for them to learn and grow. As a mother, I look back and am completely appalled that they were allowed to do any of this. I don’t care what the court system enforced, I would fight tooth and nail to ensure children in my care never have to experience that. The anger behind these rough life lessons sometimes bubbles to the surface of my consciousness. A simple reminder that I am not stuck in situations like this, and never will be again, tends to snap me back.
During these years my psychic abilities would rapidly come and go. I was going through my transition into womanhood and the hormones greatly affect my precognition. There were always spirits around, and the spirits would come to me in waves asking me for help. They would come to me, get a sense that I was going through rough stuff and scuttle away. Much like how humans do when faced with uncomfortable situations, spirits do the same. There was nothing they could have done for me. I occasionally had a spirit friend that would direct me to a lost book, that no one would notice was gone, and it would help me find a world to be lost in for a week or two. Until my stepmother realized I was enjoying reading and quickly packed every age appropriate book in the garage never to be found again.
There was an older lady that haunted my fathers house as well. She was a staple to that property and is probably still there. I think she may have died in the house, or at least came close to death there. She had raised her family in that house, had great emotional connections to that house, and she also did not know how to be of any help to me. She would come and just stare at me, never saying a word. I would beg her for help of any kind, and she would impress the knowledge that ‘this too shall pass’ as her only response. At the time I did not understand, but as an adult I know exactly what she meant.
That part of my life was just one small fraction of what I have experienced. Since then I experienced even more extremes of human cruelty, but most importantly, I experienced the love we find in ourselves and in others. The simplest of kindnesses that can wipe out all the past wrong-doings that you experienced. It takes every bit of my determination to wake up each morning and make the choice to see beauty in everything around me. Sometimes making that choice to be positive is simply an act at first, but then over time you start to truly feel it deep in your core being.
The things you experience in your life do not define you, the choices you make with that information however, does.
A. Elise