When I talk about the stoner ghosts, I'm referring to your run-of-the-mill spirits, those who somehow never figured out how to find the light and move onwards to a place of healing and renewal.
Pauline mentioned in the comments yesterday that she senses her father visiting her on occasion. Her father is not one of those lost souls, but rather another kind of spirit, a loving ancestor.
According to the cosmology of Reya (and a whole bunch of other people, should say), some spirits return from the place of healing and renewal to help us. As Donald Engstrom would say, the ancestors love us beyond all reason. They hang out behind the veil in order to guide and help us. If there is any society now or ever throughout history (other than current western culture) in which the help of ancestors wasn't/isn't regularly and sincerely sought, tell me what culture that is. It's uniquely human to connect with our loving ancestors.
Donald says it's their job to help us. In return, we must remember them. That's why so many people all around the world (and here, too) build ancestor altars. Sometimes it's just a picture and a candle, sometimes these altars are much more elaborate. Some folks put together ancestor altars specifically at this time of year, others among us always have an ancestor altar. I gaze daily into the faces of my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and reach back farther through time in my heart to all those who came before. Thanks Murray and Elizabeth, Tom, Grace, Rebecca and Hannah. Thanks all you Rices and Melikiers who crashed and burned in the Holocaust. And thanks too to all of you whose names I don't know. THANK YOU!
I honor my ancestors of blood, karma and spirit. Unlike the stoner ghosts (who I'll admit are amusing, also sometimes rather annoying and in that way not so different from the living), my ancestors offer wisdom, insight and love. They always have my back. Shalom y'all.
15 comments:
What a beautiful array of photographs illuminated by the blue light through the windows.
You make your ancestors proud.
Thanks, Jo. They love me a lot, including everything that's wrong with me.
I think of both of my grandmothers almost daily but I don't really go beyond them in the generations, suppose because I didn't know those people.
My grandmother kept a diary from age 17 to 19. She was so light-hearted at that age, going dancing and skating and enjoying her youth. Later, as my grandmother, she had survived the war, her husband was dead, she seemed old to me. But when I talk to her in my mind, she is that young woman, and we can giggle together. I wish someone in her grandmother`s generation had kept a diary. Were they like me?
I bet your beautiful character goes way back in your family, Angela.
My father is a GREAT guide - now that he's dead. When he was alive, not so much. May he rest in peace!
My dead friend must still be a stoner ghost- she makes demands, still trying to control the lives of the loved ones, no malice, mind you, just insistent and directive. Unlike my mother who is most certainly a guide. Thank you for this post Reya, sometimes I doubt- I make myself crazy...
My dead friend must still be a stoner ghost- she makes demands, still trying to control the lives of the loved ones, no malice, mind you, just insistent and directive.
Wow. At least she's someone you know.
Reya, what do you make of the ones you don't even know? What do you suppose they want or need? Why do you think they focus on what's "wrong" that makes it so hard for them to just leave us alone?
Try as they might to annoy and bother, it's really our light they're after, dontcha think?
They get confused about which light is the "right" light, I think. And they're lost - it happens to the living, too, of course.
Sometimes I tell them to go look for their grandparents. I figure they'll at least be headed in the right direction.
As for why they're lost, I'm sure there's a story for each and every one of them, just as we each have our own stories while alive.
Juscogens - do I know you? Blogger does not allow me to see your profile and/or blog. Mysterious!!
As for why the dead soldiers are always after me, I have two theories. I was a military nurse in recent lifetimes, esp. remember the Civil War and WWI. Unhappy lifetimes, believe you me! So they look to me for healing.
But I also have a lot of warrior lifetimes from way back when. So these guys are my brothers.
At least - that's what it seems like to me.
This is a beautiful post. I have photos of my ancestors throughout my home, but you have inspired me to gather them together for a while to honor all that they did to help me be who I am today.
Peace!
Peace to you, too, Barbara!
reya - i have books of old photos of people who were my ancestors. i've seen them but not looked at them. there are people with a vested interest in their perception of those people who would correct my sense of them. i don't know ghosts - that i know of. i know energy when it enters a room and floods people with its presence - especially creative energy. i know the presence of destructive energy. i know love. the love of everything for everything.
the second photograph from the right - the lady - perhaps she's a mum - my sense of you flows through her. there's communication, real considering, connecting emotive passionate presence through her. steven
the love of everything for everything.
I learn more about this from you every day, STeven. Thank you.
The second pic from the right: that's my older sister Karen (who died in 1989 from Leukemia). Next to her, my beloved sister Deborah. The baby? That's me.
My mum is the third pic from the right, arms akimbo. That pic was taken during her Lois Lane phase ... when she was reporting for a newspaper in Denver. She is so confident and smart in that pic.
Ah, I'm glad to read this. My dad was always my champion. The moment I smell cigarette smoke, I look around for him. I like thinking he's somewhere nearby, watching out for me.
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