In honor of my new Psychic/Spiritually advanced children/teens group, here’s an excerpt from my future book. I bet a lot of you can relate or know children now experiencing something similar:
As I rapidly moved toward toddler-hood, I started seeing and sensing Spirits and Angels more easily. I use to point to them and try to touch them, but as soon as I did, they seemed to disappear. Sometimes I tried to talk to them or interact with them in other ways, but again my attempts to “reach out“ with my developing intellect usually caused them to vanish. I wasn’t spending as much time in my inner universe due to the discovery of physical toys, but my awareness of Spirit and energy were still maturing. I could discern energy more clearly and I started realizing that the “people who are not really there“ (as my parents use to call them) really did exist. They were just as real as the people I could touch, even if the others couldn’t see them.
One of my frequent visitors was a man in white (who turned out to be the grandfather I never met – a doctor) , and there were a couple of woman who were around me a lot as well – one being a grandma and I think a great-grandma, both of whom died before I was born. There was a period of time where I was afraid to go to the 3rd floor of our house because I was scared of the “man that stands in the hall.” I was a toddler then, maybe 18 months or so. Of course, I was the only one who saw this man (though I think my brother saw him once or twice as well). Like virtually all other spirits, this one wasn’t harmful either but my parents did not believe in ghosts so they could not teach me not to be afraid.
My parents had a sandbox on the roof which could only be accessed by going up the stairs to the 3rd story, which was used as a storage room. I became increasingly resistant to going up the stairs to play in the sandbox, peaking around the corner to make sure the “man” wasn’t there. There was also a lady I would see behind my mom, especially when she was giving me a bath. I knew this Spirit was good so I wasn‘t afraid of her. She came around fairly often. When I could talk (which didn’t happen with any proficiency until well after my 3rd birthday) I called her the lady with the red scarf and kept asking my mom about her.
By that time in my childhood, my mom had nick-named me “bird” ( uh…don’t ask). Ironically, to the Native Americans, birds are symbolic messengers of the Spirit World and she discouraged my “active imagination” as best she could. Over time, however, I learned to keep quiet about the spirit folks who were sharing our house, as such conversation often had a way of turning ugly.
Later on in my “fabulous threes” I stopped talking about my Spirit friends altogether for a while out of fear of punishment until one day, when my dad was showing my brother and I his old family photos. It was the first time I ever saw a picture of my dad’s mother who had passed on a few months before I was born, but upon seeing the photo of the matriarch, I excitedly shouted out “That‘s her! That‘s the woman with the red scarf!” This was an exciting moment of revelation for me because now there was proof! Irrefutable proof that I was NOT crazy and that the people I could see that nobody else did actually existed, even if they were dead.
In the picture, the grandma I was seeing, who died before my birth, was giving my older brother (who was an infant when the picture was snapped) a bath. My dad never did tell me if the shawl she was wearing in a separate black and white photo was red but his confused look and his refusal to talk about it pretty much summed it up. In a way, this development was a mixed blessing because I was satisfied that I had the proof I needed to know the invisible people were real, but my parents still did not believe me. Inner conflict continued to build because I knew deep down that what I was seeing was real but at the same time my parents were telling me that it was all just my imagination and parents are tantamount to Gods in the eyes of a toddler. So, with it came growing frustration and continued loss of confidence in my own perceptions of the Spirit world following in the wake.