Hello From The Other Side - by Lisa Anne Rooney

 

Walking along the nearly two miles of the sandy beach of Lunan Bay, the sun beats down on us, making the sand hot to walk on, while the occasional breeze from the water cools my skin.  I glance up at the ruin of the 12^th century “Red Castle” which is perched overlooking the bay.  The Castle was built for King William (The Lion) of Scotland to defend against Viking invaders, all that stands now is a rectangular tower and the curtain wall.  The sun in contrast to the old eerie castle ruins, sends jumbled sensations to my brain.  This is Scotland, it’s not supposed to be hot and sunny, it’s supposed to be rainy, foggy and cast an eerie energy, and let’s be totally honest, no one ever puts Scotland and sunbathing on a beach in the same sentence, EVER! 

 

Screaming and laughing pulls me out of my state of awe and amazement, I always seem to pause and get drawn into the ancient energies when I see these amazing Castle ruins.  Turning away from the cliffs I see my son Jack and his cousin Neve running fully clothed into the North Sea, both screaming from the shock of the freezing water.  We didn’t really come prepared to spend the afternoon on the beach, see the sunbathing and Scotland statement above, so the kids had to improvise, or I should say they just went for it. The rest of the family strolls down the beach, jumping and skipping over the jelly fish that are scattered across the shoreline.   The view is outstanding, and the beach is massive, the tide is heading out to sea making it wide as it is long.  if you didn’t notice the castle ruins staring down at the visitors, you would think this location belonged on a tropical island. 

 

My cousins Gael and Gemma catch up with me, leaving the water adventurers behind, we continue on our walk towards the caves that are carved out in the cliffs from the North Sea.  As we stare out at the amazing view, we start discussing visits and signs from the other side.  The girls had lost their Mum (Aunty Gill, a wonderful, gorgeous and fun woman) a few years before and it has been a struggle for them, like it is for many people.  But at the same time, they do feel that their Mum comes to visit often.  When Gill passed away, Gemma sat with her before the undertakers arrived.  She asked her Mum to please send her a Robin to let her know that she was on the other side and ok.  Less than four hours later, while Gemma was busying herself cleaning her front windows and attempting to keep her mind off of the day’s events, she looked out on to her front lawn and sitting there looking at her was a Robin!   What was so incredible about this is that it was far too early in the year for Robins to be around and she knew right then that it was a message from her Mum.  Her Mum had heard her and was letting her know that she was ok.  Since then Robins have appeared in the strangest places and at the most appropriate times, whether that’s at someone’s birthday celebrations or a moment when the emotions where getting to be too much and they just needed some comfort. 

 

I start telling them that I know that Aunty Gill and a few other family members arranged for the bagpiper’s appearance at Dunnottar Castle when we had just recently visited.  (Gill had visited me a week or so before we were leaving for our visit and she assured me that we would have a fabulous time and that she would make sure of it).  It was the most amazing and perfect scene.  Just as we were approaching the picturesque cliff’s and view of the Castle, a gentleman dressed in a green tartan kilt strolled past us, after getting a few yards ahead, he set down the large bag he was carrying and pulled out a set of bagpipes.  He filled the bag with air and started to perform.  All of us including the Scottish crew, stood in awe.  It was like a scene out of a “tourism Scotland commercial”.  Aunty Gill and the rest of the Scottish family on the other side, wanted us all and especially our kids to have the best “Scottish” experience we could have.  Aunty Gill and Steve (my hubby) had a very close relationship and she’d want him to have the best visit that he could have.  

 

Just as I’m about to tell them of more hello from spirit stories, the girls stop dead in their tracks.  Gemma’s hand covers her mouth, tears form in her eyes, Gael walks forward in shock.  I’m not sure exactly what is happening until I look forward and covering a section of the beach is at least two or three dozen long stemmed yellow roses.  They appear to have washed up and a large section of the beach was coated in the brilliant coloured roses.  I know immediately it’s another hello from Aunty Gill.  Gemma walks forward and standing next to a few she tells me that it is the anniversary of Aunty Gills passing that day, and yellow roses were her favorite flower.  It is truly amazing how spirit is always working to be in our lives and to make us feel better.  Most times there is no big message, it is simply to say hello, these flowers were like a huge hug from Aunty Gill to her kids.  To let them know that she is there as well, enjoying the beach with her kids and her Grandchildren.

 

After a while we all move on, thanking Aunty Gill for the hello and set up our picnic spot.  Jack and Neve continue to splash in the freezing waters as the rest of us watch half in awe half knowing that they are crazy.    As the kids play and the husbands go off to explore and kick around a ball, Gael, Gemma and I continue the conversation we had started before the gorgeous message from their mother.

 

Gemma tells me the most incredible story of spirit making themselves known in the most loving way that I have ever heard.  It was regarding the birth of Gemma’s son, River.  It was almost a year to the date, August 9^th, when Gemma went into labour with the unstoppable little boy.  Her due date was November 14^th, the baby was not due for months, Gemma was only 26 weeks along.  Gemma and her husband Barry, aka Uncle Baz to us, rushed to the hospital terrified.  It was way too early for their little guy to be coming.  But as they quickly learned, the baby was done waiting and he was coming into the world, whether they wanted him to or not.  As the two of them tried to stay calm a series of strange things happened that made them realize that they were not alone and that the spirits of both their Mum’s were there and helping.  And that no matter how little River came into the world, he was going to be ok.  

 

As they were rushed into the hospital, an amazing Pediatric Specialist came to assist them.  He was calm and gentle and made them feel as comfortable as one could in the situation.  He was the first Doctor that came to see them that night and ended up staying way past his shift to make sure all was stable.  When he greeted them with a kind smile, he told them that his name was Robin.  As soon as Gemma heard that she knew that her Mum was there.  And with confidence she felt that her Mum was sending her a clear message and that their child would be ok.  Robin continued to assist Gemma, keeping her comfortable and did his best to calm her and Barry down.  As the delivery got closer, they were put into a labour room (one of many), the stress levels got higher, things were not looking good, but as they entered the room they heard music playing from a radio station on the TV, the song that surrounded them was “Stand By Me “ by Ben E. King, not only did the song have amazing words of encouragement but it was a song that every time Barry heard it, it reminded him of his mum Moira who passed away when Barry was younger.  They both looked at each other and smiled, Barry’s Mum was there helping as well.  

 

Inspired by The River Tay, a beautiful, fast flowing, and strong river, which flows by the town of Broughty Ferry which they grew up in, Gemma and Barry named their empowered and strong son River.  River was well named, because there is nothing stronger in nature than a river. He flows with what struggles are presented to him, constantly moving forward not allowing anything to stand in his way.  He was 2 pounds 2 ounces (980g) when he was born and then dropped to a scary 740g after he was born.  Many people didn’t think he would make it, but Gemma and Barry knew that their Mum’s were there cheering him on and helping where they could.  I knew that Aunty Gill wouldn’t have it any other way.  I also could feel River’s energy and knew that Gemma and Barry were going to have to get prepared because River couldn’t wait to get into this world, and there are, no obstacles that he will not climb, jump, or run through as he is growing.  He is going to keep them on their toes.  And both their Mum’s will be on the other side, watching and laughing at all the wonderful things he does.  Steve and I were 100% convinced as well that he had a team behind him so much so that we promised we would be in Scotland for his first birthday and we would all go on adventures.  It’s hard to believe now that he is 2 that he was ever that tiny, and as predicted Gemma and Barry spend their days running after him.  

 

As I’m typing this story a huge blue jay is sitting on one of my lawn chairs screeching at me.  I attempt to ignore it for a while, but after 5 minutes of it screaming at me.  I look up at it over my computer screen and make eye contact.  We stare at each other for a minute when all of a sudden it screeches again.  I literally hit the roof and jump out of my skin.  Once I calm down, I look at it again, growling under my breath for it to go away and let me work.  And then as I’m having a staring contest with this large blue and white and extremely loud bird Emilia comes strolling into the kitchen.  She stops, looks at me, then looks at the Blue Jay and moves to the pantry to make herself some lunch. With her head stuck in the pantry she says over her shoulder.  “Are you having a good conversation with Grandma?” And that is when the penny drops for me.  DUH!  Of course. 

 

The blue jay screeches again. “Yes mother, I get it! I know I’m slow on the up take sometimes, you could have just walked in as a spirit and spoke to me, but I promise to tell your story as well.” 

 

Like Gemma and the Robin, my mother often visits as a blue jay.  I’m not sure if it’s because she never liked the idea of speaking to me from the other side, (when she was in the hospital passing away she told me not to expect her to chat with me, she thought it was creepy) so for her to visit and watch quietly as a large blue bird (or in this case, not so quietly) is more her style.  Why a Blue Jay? Well, not only was my mother the biggest Major League Baseball, Toronto Blue Jays fan, we also spent many summers in the Boston area, where blue jays were abundant and many restful afternoons by my Aunt’s pool were disturbed by screaming blue jays that darted across the back garden.  My Aunt and Mother used to yell at them to be quiet.

 

After my mother passed, I started to see the trend of blue jays popping up here and there.  At first, I thought it was a fun little coincidence (even though I do not believe in coincidences).  But then it started to be a bit more in our face that I quickly realized that this was my mother making her presence known to everyone around not just me.  She would come in spirit and walk through the house, making me sneeze (that was another thing my mother was known for, every morning she would sneeze at least 50 times) and then she would just leave.  She would not chat no matter how hard I attempted to get her to stop and have a conversation with me.  She was true to her word she was not in any rush to speak to me directly from the other side.  As the years passed, more blue jays, showed up, in and around our lives.  Although we do spot the occasional blue jay in our area, they are not that abundant or at least they weren’t until now.  

 

We started to put the blatant blue jay visits and my mother together, my kids would say “hello Grandma” every time we’d spot one.  When Emilia started grade nine, she was extremely nervous.  She was leaving the comforts of her elementary school and her tight friend group and moving on to the big world of high school.  Hundreds of kids and a whole new way of doing things.  She was convinced high school was like it is on tv, keg parties and singing in the hallways, with tough bullies locking kids in their lockers.  She was a nervous wreck walking to school the first day until a screech caught her attention.  She learned very quickly that high school is nothing like those teen movies or tv shows.  As she left our house to walk the 15 minutes around the block to the school, she spotted in a tree next to the sidewalk a big blue jay.  She smiled at it and said hello in her mind.  As she walked by the blue jay flew to the next tree and screeched again.  Again, as she walked by the blue jay flew to the next tree.  This continued all the way to the front of the high school.   She never mentioned anything to me until a few weeks went by, and she said that every morning for the first few weeks that blue jay walked her to school.  The following week when she was less afraid and more confident about her classes and school in general the blue jay stopped showing up.  She knew that her Grandmother was walking her to school and was there when she really needed her, but once she was feeling better her Grandmother didn’t need to be there anymore.  Emilia did say that occasionally she would spy it across the street from the school and knew that it was just making sure she was ok.  

 

I used to think that spirit just sends the birds to us to let us know that our loved ones are watching from somewhere, that they are around, or that they are thinking about us, but they are not the actual bird. But when a bird escorts your daughter to school for two weeks, you start to question that theory.   To this day we are stalked by blue jays.  In the summer as a family we often head over to the Provincial Park near our house for a nice hike with our dogs.  I’d say 90 percent of the time a blue jay will follow us or dart from tree to tree on our route, screeching and making their presence known.  All of us say hello to her, sometimes she will continue on our walk with us, other times as soon as we say hello, she flies off.  

 

Many people are not fortunate like I am to physically see or talk to spirit, so spirit knowing this will try many different ways to let us know that they are hanging around and that they love us.  Random songs may come on, dimes appear in strange places or you may be stalked by a blue jay.  

An experience from a trip last summer - ghost story!

The following is an excerpt from the book I'm currently working on all about ghost stories and my experiences with spirit and ghosts! 

I thought I'd share a story since we are all stuck inside during these strange and tense times.  Who doesn't like a good ghost story to distract us for a moment! 

I hope you enjoy it! 

Lisa

*********

I lay staring at the ceiling, sweat pools between my breasts and slides down my sides.  The only relief for the extreme heat is the spewing tornado of air coming out of my husband’s cpap sleep apnea nose mask hitting me square in my ear. It’s funny how we can be grateful for things that annoyed us only a few days before.  This is not how I thought our visit to Dublin was going to be.  Not only are we experiencing the heat wave of the century, our Airbnb is haunted by a crazed drug addict ghost, and the energy from the city as a whole is a dynamic of good vs evil which is causing havoc with my whole family.   4 people sensitive to energy, with 3 of us who can see and sense dead people traveling to a city like Dublin in hindsight may not have been a good idea.  

We arrived with a skip in our step and excitement pouring out of us.  We decide to skip the bus to town and treat ourselves to a taxi, especially considering the taxi concierge informed us it was only going to be a few dollars more than the bus would cost for all four of us.  Our taxi driver was a pleasant man, he filled us in on which area had the best shopping and food and gave us some fabulous advice to enjoy our visit.  When we reach our Airbnb, we all pour out of the taxi excited to deposit our bags in our flat and go exploring.  The taxi driver asks me to get back into the front to square up our bill, as I pull out my wallet he explains to me to watch out for pick pocketers they are everywhere in the city and then with a smile on his face he tells me how much I owe him.  Double of what we were quoted by the taxi concierge at the airport! Speaking of pick pocketers (very ironic – don’t you think) still I thought, lesson learned, never again, I’m not going to spoil our first moments in Dublin arguing over a taxi fare.  Sure, it left a bad taste in my mouth, but it didn’t make my excitement waver. We were all very excited to finally be in Ireland. It was a fluke that we are even here, while we were booking our flights to go to Scotland to visit family our travel agent suggested a stop-over in the Fair City, and by staying a few days it would actually save us money on our airfare.  Being me, a huge believer in signs from the universe, I figured this was one! Well, let’s just say if it was a sign, it was a teaching opportunity for what works for our family and what doesn’t.  It’s horrible to say but Dublin’s fair city was not so fair to us. 

As we ascend the staircase that leads to our quaint Airbnb my anxiety skyrockets.  I start to feel like my skin is crawling and I want to rub it off.  I brush the feeling off quickly and readjust my focus, trying to bring a calm to all of us.  By the time we step across the threshold of the flat, my kids are fighting, and my husband is grumpy, jeez it was only two flights of stairs, the bad mojo in this building is strong.  I Immediately know that something is not right with this flat.  We drop our bags and the kids go check out each room, I race to open every window I can to remove some of the bad energy that is swirling around, I knew I should have packed an emergency care pack of incense and sage! I step out onto the little side balcony that faces the one and only Guinness Factory, actually we not only face it, we are basically in the yard of the Guinness Factory (well this will be fun, smell of cooking Guinness and trucks backing up all night!)  Just as I’m preparing to reiki (healing/adjusting energy) the flat, my husband and kids come stomping out onto the balcony and demand that we get out of the flat and go check out Dublin.  I jump at the chance to get out of this strangling energy but know I will have to deal with whatever is in here when we return. 

We head out, attempting to bring that bounce back to our steps and focus on the excitement of being in Dublin. But after a few blocks I quickly realize that the energy inside the flat is very similar to the energy on the streets of Dublin.  There is a mix of good and evil, the air is very heavy and dense. I know the average person may not feel it but for me and my family it is hard to focus.  People are bustling here and there, which you find in many cities but here the energy coming off most people is one of aggression, to the point that I’m afraid to make eye contact or brush by them in fear that if I upset them they will either throw a beer in my face or a fist!  We pass groups of drug addicts, sleeping in doorways and some shooting up out in the open.  Only a few blocks away from our Airbnb is a methadone clinic, the line-up flows out the door and down the stairs.  We cross a bridge over the River Liffey which flows through the centre of Dublin hoping to avoid a large group of drunk partiers, only to pass a group of down and out looking men sitting on the bridge drinking out of bottles covered by paper bags.  We dart to the other side, weave through some tourists and cross the next bridge, which brings us to The Temple Bar area of the city (the Tourist Pub Crawl Capitol of Ireland).  In some ways Temple Bar is a quaint area, flower boxes overflowing with every colour of flowers hang off windows of pubs and restaurants, cobbled narrow streets, music flows out of the open doors of the pubs as the patrons sit on the sidewalks attempting to get some cooler air as the heat wave has made the pubs uncomfortable inside (no a/c in Ireland).  Merriment is everywhere, or so it seems at first.  As we thread ourselves through openings in the hoard of people trying to locate a restaurant we are hoping to go to that evening, drunk tourists and locals stumble into us (have I mentioned it’s only 3pm?). Guided tour groups flow from side to side, which remind me of a large flock of birds moving together in synchronicity.  We change direction and head up a quieter alley, hoping and praying that where-ever this leads it is not as claustrophobic as what we just escaped. The alley spills out into a busy road, which has more cars and people than what we just left behind.   After a few blocks I count my blessings that this visit to Dublin is only a few days and we will soon be out of here.  

We head in the direction that we think leads to our flat.  After a few blocks of dodging and darting people, we find ourselves standing outside of the gates to a magnificent cathedral. Christ Church Cathedral, with its gorgeous arches and spires, is absolutely stunning.  As we walk by the Cathedral, I notice a labyrinth laid out on the ground. It is exactly like the labyrinth in my hometown.  These labyrinths are designs that are laid out as a walking meditation.  When you look at it, some people may say it looks like a flower or mandala.  It is used to relax, remove anxiety, pray and centre oneself, it is a wonderful way to meditate, if you don’t want to sit still for too long.  It makes my heart calm for a moment, until I see tourists stomping all over it and not respecting what it is and the awesome energy that it can give people.  I have always felt that Dublin was a strong hold of Catholic beliefs and dogma, but I’m starting to see that it has lost its grip. 

After exploring for a bit, we all felt completely drained and decided it was best to grab some food from the corner shop and have an early night.  Hoping that the next day will bring new energy to the city and our experience, but I know that will not be the case, this energy is centuries old.   The blend of good; amazing grand churches on every block, institutions of holiness; a core strong hold of the Catholic Church which is surrounded by evil in the guise of debauchery; drug addicts, and drunk people perched on every corner and many sleeping on the benches outside of these buildings of Catholic pride.  It is fascinating in many ways, but the clash of energy is overwhelming.   And now this is me, this is what I will remember about this trip.  Staring at the peeling ceiling, soaked in sweat, with a sleep apnea cpap machine as an air conditioner and one of the darkest ghosts I’ve come across in a long time standing at the end of my bed.   

I felt this young man when we first arrived, but once we were back from our first exploration of the city, I felt him stronger.  I attempted to do my usual “ignore the dead person” and they will hopefully go away thing. But this ghost was different, I’m not sure he even totally realizes that he is dead.  He sneaks around and looks through our stuff like he is looking for something to steal.  He sneaks down the hallway to get away from us, not to watch us.  His clothes hang off of him, and are filthy, I’m not sure if they are truly black in colour or just completely stained and dirty.  His hair is dark and matted, and again, I’m not sure if it is dark or just so dirty that it appears to be dark in colour.  I do have to comment about the fact that in Ireland or I should say Dublin, spirit/ghosts seem to have an incredible ability to show themselves to living people and affect our energy more than any place I have ever been.  In many other places I have been I may not see spirits/ghosts only feel them, or I will see an outline or see more what people imagine seeing a ghost is like – the old apparition – where you see the ghost, but you can see right through them. Here I have encountered more solid spirit/ghosts than anywhere else I have been they appear to me completely solid here.  It’s an interesting observation. Now as I watch him pace back and forth, scratching at his arms and neck, mumbling to himself, I can feel how upset his stomach feels, how he is desperate for his next hit of heroine.  He desperately needs to find something in order to get the next hit.  I try to speak with him and ask him if he understands that he is dead and that he needs to leave this place and go to the other side and get some peace.  But he doesn’t listen, he continues to pace and mumble.  A quick thought crosses my mind, the Airbnb that we are in is one half of a building, this half is apartments, the other half looks like it was once a pub and is now closed down.  Windows all boarded up, graffiti on the walls, a perfect place to sneak in and sleep if you are an addict.  What if this young man is currently dead and still in that building?  For one quick moment, I think about calling the local police, but then all the scenarios run through my head.  They will either hang up on me thinking I’m nuts or worse, they may think I was somehow involved. Best to stay quiet I think! I ask him if he is dead in the other half of the building.  He stops pacing and mumbling, and that is when this crazed ghost, turns towards me and snarls.  My thoughts of compassion leave immediately and sitting up I snarl right back at him. In my head I yell, “oh no you didn’t”! Years ago, I may have coward under my covers but not anymore, I am not afraid of ghosts! I’m grumpy, I’m hot (Dublin is not a place you come to for the hot weather, I didn’t bring appropriate clothing for the tropics – they don’t even have a/c), I’m getting an earache from my husband’s cpap machine’s constant stream of air and I’m not going to take this ghost’s attitude at all!  It’s bad enough that I pick up his crawling skin and upset stomach with my energy, and it’s making my kids ill as well.  I tell him firmly he is not welcome here and even if this is his place, I don’t care, he cannot come in here and attempt to scare us or effect our energy with his. He stares at me for a moment, shocked.  I think he is shocked that I’m actually speaking with him, and that I’m not taking any of his crap.  He turns and bolts out the bedroom, I get up quickly as he was heading in the direction of where my daughter was sleeping but he turns quickly and heads through the front door and out of our flat.  I knew then that this ghost had not been dead for that long, long enough to know he could go through the door but not long enough to know that he could have just gone through any wall, he didn’t have to take the hall and go down the stairs.  I prayed that this would be our only run in with him, but I knew it wouldn’t be.   But thank goodness our stay wasn’t too long, and we’d be gone before we knew it. Only two more sleeps after this one and we’d be free of this energy all around us.   He did show up every night, same scenario, him pacing, mumbling and needing a hit.  He never snarled at me again, I think he knew better. But unfortunately, although I didn’t see him during the day he was around, and his energy encased the flat. My daughter who is a strong empath and picks up energy easily and hasn’t quite mastered the art of removing people’s energy from hers, started to feel ill, she was anxious and picked up his paranoia.  She was feeling exactly what this ghost was feeling like.  The hardest part about being an empath like she is, is once the ghost’s energy mixes with your own it’s hard to shake it off and remove it. Her stomach was so upset, she just didn’t want to leave the flat.  On the second day I forced her to come to see some of the sights.  I really wanted to visit St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Growing up Catholic I heard all about this Cathedral and I was so interested in seeing it in person.  I love history; it blows my mind to think of all the events and people that came before us. 

As we zigzag through the streets to find St. Patrick’s we pass one gorgeous church after another.  A few we pass have been converted to Breweries or Distilleries.  I’m not sure how I feel about that, I understand that they are utilizing these magnificent buildings but again I see the clash or blending of “Good vs Evil” that this city seems to have.   We finally stumble upon St. Patrick’s, it is an amazing sight, the spire, which is the tallest in all of Ireland, is so tall it seems to be reaching for the heavens. The details in the stain glass is incredible, it is hard to believe that this building was built in 1191.  As we pay the grossly over-priced fee to get inside, I’m not really caring about the cost, I’m just excited to see all the details of the carvings within the building itself and fingers crossed a spirit/ghost or two.  As I step around the payment booth, I’m overcome by a few emotions.  The first is just how magnificent this building is, the next emotion is me being overwhelmed by the history before me, and the third is anger!  I can’t believe what I’m seeing.  Over to the right as you enter is a gift shop!  It’s set up smack dab in the middle of the church.  It is selling everything you can imagine with Irish sayings and St. Patrick logos on items from mugs, to keychains, to rosaries. Hey, I’m all for selling items for up-keep etc, and I love a beautiful rosary but what are they doing selling inside of the church!!  They should have a little building outside as a gift shop!  My mind bounces back to my school days and reading the story of Jesus and the Cleansing of the Temple.  The story tells about how Jesus showed up for Passover and in the temple was merchants and money changers.  He threw them out, over-turning their tables, and saying they were turning the temple into a “den of thieves” through their commercial activities.  Wow, what in the world is the church thinking!   I tried my best to pull my thoughts away from the commercial activities and I dove into the history that surrounded me.  There are so many little off shoots where monuments stand to patrons of the church. As I explored each nook and cranny, searching for any ghosts or spirits that still reside here, I still couldn’t get over the store in the middle of the Cathedral.  It actually ruined the experience for me, but in a strange way it was the perfect example of what I was feeling within this city.  Holy blended with debauchery, Good vs Evil, Positive mixed with negative.  I did get a quick glimpse of a ghost, but just a quick one, it darted from one side of the church to the other.  But with everything going on in here I’d be hiding out as well!  This experience sums up Dublin’s energy for me perfectly.  

After sitting awhile in the church facing the elaborate alter, with our backs to the “commercial activities”, we decided to venture further into the city and grab some lunch.  As we make our way through the streets, my son pulls me aside and tells me he isn’t feeling well, I instruct him to take some deep breaths and brush it off.  Basically, I told him in a nice way to suck it up and ignore it.  The further we ventured into the hustle and bustle of the Temple Bar area, Jack complains more about not feeling well, he starts to get dizzy, finally he stops and says he is going to be ill.  I whisk him into the closest ally, and he takes the prone puke position.  I rub his back trying to send him as much healing as I can while trying to protect his aura from the onslaught of crazy energy that seems to be throwing him off balance.  I know that sounds a bit crazy but over the years of dealing with ghosts I’ve learned many different techniques to block their energy and to remove it if they get too close.  As I stand with my hand on Jack’s back, I scan the area around us to see if I can see or feel any spirits/ghosts.  To be honest there are so many around it is hard for me to pick up who or what is affecting him so badly. I’m not sure if he is being affected by a spirit/ghost, a living person or residual energy.  But it was so quick and so severe it is almost like he was being psychically attacked by a ghost!  Being attacked like this can feel like having all your energy drained and almost instantly you get flu like symptoms.  Just as Steve and Emilia go off to find Jack a sugary drink to help his energy level, I spot a ghost leaning against the building we just past.  He has long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail bound low on his head by a ribbon.  His clothes reminded me of clothes from the 1800’s, short pants, buckles on his black shoes, a long over coat, and a hat which he was clutching in his hand.  He had piercing blue eyes, which he had laser focused on Jack.  It was almost as if he couldn’t see the hundreds of people passing in between us. As I attempted to help Jack and protect him from the energy that this not so gentle, gentleman was sending him, the ghost steps towards us.  First one slow step and then two, the next thing he is running towards us.  I move to stand in between this sprinting ghost and my son, my momma bear came out in full protection mode, when all of a sudden, my husband and daughter emerge out of the store with Jack’s drink, stepping right into the ghost’s path to us.  Just as I’m about to shout for them to get out of the way.  The ghost disappears.  Jack straightens, stretches and announces to us that he is all of a sudden feeling better.  I scan the area and thankfully I can’t spot the ghost.  Without scaring the crap out of my family I advise that it may be best if we get out of this area and head back to our Airbnb. 

My family knows me enough to know that if I’m not giving them details it’s best to just take my advice and get the flock out of dodge.  We head straight back to the flat, the complete walk back I keep my eyes and senses on full alert watching for the 18 century Highwayman (thieves that stole from travelers) who had a hate for Jack for some unknown reason.  With another quick stop at the corner shop for supplies for dinner we make it to the flat in one piece.  

The next day when we wake up, we decide we are going to head out again, but this time we are going to go to a huge city park.  Emilia informs us she doesn’t want to go she is feeling very sick to her stomach.  I know it’s a catch 22, the energy in here is as bad as the energy out on the streets.  We leave her with keys and emergency information and Steve, Jack and I head out. We are determined to enjoy Dublin one way or another, and although we have all been affected by the energy here, we still hold out hope that we will find a gem in this chaos.  I will keep my eyes peeled for any strange ghosts I spot, the one thing I’m learning about Dublin is ignoring ghosts in this town doesn’t really work.  I have to change my usual ignore and they will ignore you tactic. This is all about who is the most empowered, I must change it up to; make eye contact and show them you are in charge right from the moment you cross their path.  Aggressive ghosts like these only listen to aggression back, I must not show any fear or weakness.  So, I have to put on my warrior hat, pull up my big girl pants and show them who is in charge.  

I would love to tell you that we ended up having a fabulous time and that we found a ton of gems, but we didn’t. We did find a few areas that we thought were not as bad as others, but no matter where we went, we picked up on that mix of energy, crashing into each other causing a swirl of energy that is overwhelming and chaotic.  I couldn’t relax one bit, I felt like a secret service agent or bodyguard, guarding my family at every turn.  I will need a vacation from my mini Dublin vacation.  We decided that we had enough and head back from our adventure. Unfortunately, in order to get back to our flat we had to pass the Temple Bar area where we came across the highwayman.  I steer Steve and Jack to the opposite side of the street hoping that will make a difference, keeping us all away from the ghost if he is still there.  Just as we pass the alley I glance over and see a gentleman and his wife.  He is walking quickly turns into the ally and throws up.  She is rubbing his back, just as I did to Jack not even 24 hours before. Now, for some they would think that it was just a coincidence, just another tourist suffering a Temple Bar Hangover, but I know there is no such thing.  I search up and down the street for the highwayman, when I spot him, he is standing behind the couple, laughing.  I stop in my tracks and just as I turn to say something to Jack and Steve, the highwayman spots me.  His smile leaves his face for a moment, I yell in my head for him to leave the poor man alone.  He glares at me for a brief moment and then lifts his head and laughs and then disappears. Wow!  Looks like this ghost gets his daily dose of fun by making unsuspecting tourists throw up, by sending imposing heavy negative energy to tourists he gets the effect he wants.  I guess if you have been a ghost for centuries and had nothing else to do, you have to find ways to entertain yourself.  Unfortunately, it is at the expense of some tourists. 

Although Dublin didn’t turn out to be the experience that I had thought it would be.  I did learn a very important lesson here; as a family of sensitives we can’t go to places like this without being completely prepared. We are not people that do well in crowds anyway but when you add in a place that has spirits and ghosts on mass it makes it an adventure we will never forget! And it really did empower me and reinforce that “I ain’t afraid of no ghost”! (cue ghost buster theme music)!