THE PRESENCE

Although I love reading ghost stories especially M.R James at this time of year I am a skeptic. Another favourite author Arthur Conan Doyle promised after he died if he could communicate he would. I have seen no proof of that yet. Growing up I read a lot but was always a skeptic. My friend Caroline died after being told by a psychic she would grow up to be “an auld, auld women”

I remember the visit to that psychic in Dundee. She lived in a flat right in the city centre of Dundee before it was gentrified. I had to be persuaded by my pals, this was the era of the post mass hysteria of “The Exorcist”. We were all too young to have seen it but some of our parents had and parish priests told us not to watch it for peril of our lives. Every Catholic child has the dread of Hell and the demons who can attack you when you are least prepared.

I was a teenager never comfy in my old skin. I was never happier than when reading a book. My parents said I was “highly strung” and I was. A girl who cried at Lassie movies (still do) and was terrified of the videos my big brother watched. My friends asked me to go to this medium and eventually I agreed. She was an old woman who I remember having numerous layers of clothing like the grandmother in “The Tin Drum”. She sensed my nervousness and gave readings to my friends assuring them they would all grow up to be “auld, auld, women”. Maybe she saw and didn’t want to share but I wish Caroline was still here.

Over the years I have had a few “experiences” that cannot be explained. My friend reminded me when we stayed in The Beresford in Glasgow and we both felt something at exactly the same time.

I have shivers going down my spine.” I said.

So do I. She said. “How can we have that at the same time?”

The roots of the hair were standing on edge.

I explained it through “stone tape theory” old stones could act as a recorder of significant events and people. I have done this all my life. Studying psychology exposed me to the need for empirical evidence and scientific verification. I needed proof.

Two days ago on Hogmonay as it is called in Scotland I was standing in my wee kitchen. It is small three paces across take you to the end of it and it is two paces from the sink to the cupboard. It is cozy and I have always felt peace there. I listen to plays, to music while bumbling on. I was in my rhythm of creating some food for my family. I was thinking back to how many years old this celebration of New Year is when we coory in with those we love and scare away the shadows of the New Year. I felt two taps on my right shoulder; I looked around thinking one of my children was there. Of course I knew no-one was.

I felt the most amazing feeling of peace and love and gentleness. I thought my dad is here. I was so overwhelmed I left the kitchen and told my daughter about it. She said it has happened to her there too.

I felt a need to return and stood and hugged whatever was there and there was something there. I felt so loved. For a skeptic like me giving a hug seemed the right thing to do.

Another friend when I shared this talked about presence. Another one of the most spiritual and down to Earth folk you could hope to meet said, you can’t ask the spirits they will come to you. I don’t know what I experienced but it was a presence which is still around me today and I felt compelled to write about apart from my usual politics. I am sharing it with you and wishing you all the best in the year to come. Much Love.

THE PRESENCE

Although I love reading ghost stories especially M.R James at this time of year I am a skeptic. Another favourite author Arthur Conan Doyle promised after he died if he could communicate he would. I have seen no proof of that yet. Growing up I read a lot but was always a skeptic. My friend Caroline died after being told by a psychic she would grow up to be “an auld, auld women”

I remember the visit to that psychic in Dundee. She lived in a flat right in the city centre of Dundee before it was gentrified. I had to be persuaded by my pals, this was the era of the post mass hysteria of “The Exorcist”. We were all too young to have seen it but some of our parents had and parish priests told us not to watch it for peril of our lives. Every Catholic child has the dread of Hell and the demons who can attack you when you are least prepared.

I was a teenager never comfy in my old skin. I was never happier than when reading a book. My parents said I was “highly strung” and I was. A girl who cried at Lassie movies (still do) and was terrified of the videos my big brother watched. My friends asked me to go to this medium and eventually I agreed. She was an old woman who I remember having numerous layers of clothing like the grandmother in “The Tin Drum”. She sensed my nervousness and gave readings to my friends assuring them they would all grow up to be “auld, auld, women”. Maybe she saw and didn’t want to share but I wish Caroline was still here.

Over the years I have had a few “experiences” that cannot be explained. My friend reminded me when we stayed in The Beresford in Glasgow and we both felt something at exactly the same time.

I have shivers going down my spine.” I said.

So do I. She said. “How can we have that at the same time?”

The roots of the hair were standing on edge.

I explained it through “stone tape theory” old stones could act as a recorder of significant events and people. I have done this all my life. Studying psychology exposed me to the need for empirical evidence and scientific verification. I needed proof.

Two days ago on Hogmonay as it is called in Scotland I was standing in my wee kitchen. It is small three paces across take you to the end of it and it is two paces from the sink to the cupboard. It is cozy and I have always felt peace there. I listen to plays, to music while bumbling on. I was in my rhythm of creating some food for my family. I was thinking back to how many years old this celebration of New Year is when we coory in with those we love and scare away the shadows of the New Year. I felt two taps on my right shoulder; I looked around thinking one of my children was there. Of course I knew no-one was.

I felt the most amazing feeling of peace and love and gentleness. I thought my dad is here. I was so overwhelmed I left the kitchen and told my daughter about it. She said it has happened to her there too.

I felt a need to return and stood and hugged whatever was there and there was something there. I felt so loved. For a skeptic like me giving a hug seemed the right thing to do.

Another friend when I shared this talked about presence. Another one of the most spiritual and down to Earth folk you could hope to meet said, you can’t ask the spirits they will come to you. I don’t know what I experienced but it was a presence which is still around me today and I felt compelled to write about apart from my usual politics. I am sharing it with you and wishing you all the best in the year to come. Much Love.

vSandra. X

Sandra. X

About sandrassp

I am the mum to two sons who both live with autism. I am an ambassador for NAS Scotland and co-spokesperson of the Scottish Socialist Party. I am passionate about my politics both upper and Lower key, the arts in general and like to comment on everything that shapes my landscape. I am a mature student and have begun to dabble my toes into writing. I blog about family life and my day to day experiences. My philosophy is Up and At them and Always with a smile on my face.
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