Category Archives: Paranormal Nonfiction
After 12 years of suffering life-altering symptoms from being sensitive to ultra-low EMFs (electromagnetic frequencies), I’m learning what it is to feel normal again. However, for me, that isn’t a simple or straight forward process.
Due to a variety of [unfortunate] circumstances, I was a human pin cushion, if not a human guinea pig as a child. It started when, at the age of 7, overreacting pediatricians decided that because my blood sugar went up whenever I had a fever, I must have juvenile diabetes. Thank God my father intervened, refusing to allow them to put me on insulin. At the age of 13, another pediatrician told my mother that it was normal for some kids to experience this and in no way suggested I had or ever would get, diabetes.
After years of fasting blood sugars and going without certain foods, you can imagine how I felt. Holly Bach Flower Remedy is my friend.
At the age of 10, I had a brain hemorrhage that was followed by years of tests ranging from blood draws that tested medication levels, to frequent EEGs, and more. I have probably been seen my more specialists in my life than most Americans ever will.
Prior to experiencing the symptoms of EMF Sensitivity, I would have described myself as a very healthy adult. I don’t believe that history is destiny, meaning just because your grandparents, parents, or aunts/uncles had it, doesn’t mean you are destined to get it. Why live in fear? What a waste, not to mention the stress.
So, in order to baseline what was normal in terms of EMFs, I had to remember my life before.
I had already trained myself not to see EMF Sensitivity as the boogie-man behind every issue. What I needed to do was to remember how things were before I moved to the SF Bay Area in 2000.
I hear high-pitched sounds. When I used to go into certain retail outlets, I would hear a high pitched tone when I was near the security detectors posted at the entrance. When I commented on it to a sales clerk at Crowley’s Department store, she replied, “Oh, that’s our alarm system. A lot of people complain about that, though not everyone can hear it.”
I know of a system engineer working at Allied Signal who could hear a high pitched ringing whenever the monitor on his system was turned on. A double-blind test performed by engineers proved he was telling the truth.
I break technology. In 1989, the hardware repair tech at my company told me she had to repair the laser printer in my cubicle more than any other printer in the district. In 1996, I received a request from the workstation division to send back a board i’d fried on a demo box I was working on. They said “We’ve never heard of that happening simply from plugging a NIC card in…”
I was wearing a static grounding wrist-strap at the time.
Many of the EMF Sensitives I’ve spoken with have this same relationship with technology. It’s sort of funny, but expensive. Known as the Gremlin Effect in metaphysical circles, it is a badge of honor worn by some. Dr. Dean Radin writes of it in his book The Conscious Universe The Scientific Truth of Psychic Phenomena.
I drain batteries. I have always drained batteries. I remember warning my husband about this when he gave me a beautiful watch for Christmas one year. He smugly asserted that the quality of the one he gave me would show me differently. Um, guess who had the last laugh? Actually, I don’t laugh. It’s a real hassle to have to keep replacing the batteries as often as I do. I replaced the batteries three times in the first two years I had the watch. He had had his watch (same brand) for eleven years and hadn’t had to replace the battery yet.
I recently got a self-winding watch. No more dealing with batteries.
I break equipment. In 2000, I warned my administrative assistant that I have a peculiar effect on equipment. She accepted me at my word, ordered extra, and helped ensure that I was not without access on the numerous occasions I broke the computers I worked on.
Did I literally break this stuff? No, I didn’t do anything other than use it. However, it never lasted long around me. And there was never a logical explanation for why it happened. Nothing was wrong.
All of this went on for years before I ever moved to the SF Bay Area. However, I wasn’t ill, so I can’t conclude, with any certainty, whether or not it was EMF Sensitivity. I am curious to see if these things continue in the absence of the negative health symptoms I associate with EMF Sensitivity.
It will help me gain a decent before and after perspective.
It was over 30 years ago today that I died from a brain hemorrhage; that I was in the place of White Light many who have experienced a Near Death Experience (NDE) have been. And while the date may be enough to prompt a blog entry about what happens after death, it’s actually recent events that motivate me.
In After Here: The Celestial Plane and What Happens When We Die and Angels and Engineers ,I share details of the spiritual and incredibly psychic journey that followed my NDE. There are stories of encounters with angels and spirits of those who have passed on. In a few cases I have been asked to pass messages along.
Passing along a message from a deceased loved one isn’t a trivial thing. The religious and/or spiritual beliefs of the recipient(s) has to be considered, not to mention the timing. And for me, I worry about how the information will be received. Especially if the recipient(s) is/are unaware of my abilities. Today of all days, I received two separate letters that not only assauged those worries, they affirmed the value of sharing such information.
So on this anniversary, a day on which I celebrate life, I would like to pass along the following two messages. I hope they bring some measure of comfort, if not inspiration.
Death is not the end. Throughout the years, I have seen and communicated with many spirits. They are at peace and often stick around to watch over those they love.
We are never alone. Over and over I have been told by angels that we are never alone. They are ever at our sides. On multiple occasions I have seen them in hospitals at the bedsides of old and young alike. “We never leave them,” they tell me.
I don’t read into every coincidence in life, nor do I see signs everywhere. But a series of recent events confirmed that there are angels, spirits, and love all around us – a message I am happy to pass on.
I had no idea, when I decided to write a follow up to After Here: The Celestial Plane and What Happens When We Die, where the path I was about to embark on would lead. Every time I thought I knew what I was doing, I would freeze up, unable to proceed. I developed comprehensive outlines to work from, and then proceeded to discard them. I spent hours typing content which I later discarded.
I tried going back to basics. Who was my audience and what was my objective? The more I typed the less clear those answers were.
As I began working on the actual manuscript, I quickly realized I had a problem. The book was developing into a monstrous volume that was closer to an esoteric encyclopedia than what I’d intended it to be.
After several weeks of unsuccessful attempts to get the project back on track, I scrapped everything and started from scratch. Although this may seem drastic and have other writers cringing, I felt it was the right and necessary thing to do. The result, Angels And Engineers Volume I: Spirits Among Us, and Angels and Engineers Volume II: Angels Among Us, will be available Winter 2012.
Today, I received a question from a reader in Australia. She enjoyed my book After Here: the Celestial Plane and What Happens When We Die and had a question.
“…just one question about how you said there is multiple lifes at one time and you said you felt the one of you die. How did it feel or how did you know? Was it through dream? Did you feel it? Or did you see or sense it in spiritual realm?”
From After Here: The Celestial Plane and What Happens When We Die
The events of my tenth summer set my life in a direction I could not possibly have imagined. Dying, a Near Death Experience, and the paranormal events and connections that followed left an indelible mark on my entire being. As I sat down to outline the flow of this book, I found myself challenged by the tone that was evolving. It was so dramatic. It was so serious. I was so serious. Was I too serious?
I began withdrawing in an attempt to manage the emotional tidal wave that came with reliving traumatic events. I suddenly discovered a passion for domestic chores (a joke to anyone who knows me, although fellow writers are probably nodding in understanding). When I returned from a vacation and was still unable to get back to work, I knew it was time to pause (but not too long) and seriously reflect.
I had started out with the idea of writing a book about my Near Death Experience; a spiritually inspiring book. However, I soon realized it had to be much more than that. There was an incredible metaphysical component that could not be ignored.
Although my young life had been peppered with supernatural events, suggesting I was a rather strong natural psychic, nothing could compare to the paranormal landscape that evolved after I’d died. I was a child at the time and I did not possess the knowledge or experience to easily deal with what was happening. My religious education had not prepared me for coming face to face with what I perceived as God, nor the continuous celestial contact that instantly became a permanent aspect of my life.
Without including details of my own spiritual struggle and evolution, which came as a direct result of discovering that death was not what my grade school Catholic education had painted (sorry, no man in white beard handing out merits and demerits and pointing toward a door with the word Purgatory written on it), I could not possibly do justice to the story or my readers. My tale would end up reading like a spaghetti sauce that had the potential to be incredible were it not missing a critical ingredient.
As a result, I’ve included the entire story as I experienced it, complete with the dark moments and scary uncertainties I lived with for weeks and even years after I’d physically recovered. I would like to think that in doing so, I am able to provide a holistic glimpse into the arcane side of another world; one that exists alongside and intertwined with our own, that patiently awaits our return.
It was my desire to assure others that life and love do not cease when our breath does, but continue in a beautiful eternity that is ours to experience when we leave this world.
August 6, 1979
“Please, just let me die.”
I lay across the front seat of my dad’s pickup, my head in my brother’s lap. I was sobbing in agony; the pain in my head unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Read the rest of this entry