Friday, December 29, 2006 at 1:01am
I talk to dead people
Column: wavelength
I am a shaman, someone who works in tandem with Spirit towards an intended end, such as healing and insight. The work is accessed by a trance state and involves the use of the imaginal realms as well as an understanding of energy dynamics. Shaman is a broad term that covers many subspecialties, if you will; one of which is that of a "psychopomp." A psychopomp is one who assists lost souls, often recently departed, toward the light. I serve as a psychopomp and act as a guide for lost souls and escort them across the bridge of this earthly dimension into the next world.
Here is my story:
Oftentimes, it begins with the pull chains on my bedside lamp. They start clacking together in the middle of the night. I have learned that this is a sign that someone wants my attention. So, it began for me.
It started on All Hallow's Eve, the evening of celebration of Samhain, the Celtic feast of the dead, which is the precursor to the Christian All Souls' Day and All Hallow's Day on November 1. In many cultures, this is considered a time between the seasons, a liminal time when the veil is thinnest between the living and the dead. So, it was for me, this daughter of the Celtic Isles.
I had returned home in an altered state, irrevocably changed. My internal settings had been stretched. My energy field was open. Over the days of thinned veils and sanctified times, a small parade of persons who were in need of shamanic assistance to help them cross over, presented themselves to me.
They were all lost souls who found me on the Waveland beach and needed assistance in finding the light. Here is who came to me, in the order they appeared:
* There is Katie, a 5-year-old from Waveland, who is looking for her parents, especially her mom. Katie needs a guide. This is a vertical move. I take Katie up — up, up, up in a column of light and we come to an opening above, a portal, if you will, and from there we see the hand of her mom reaching for Katie. They connect and up Katie goes.
* Paul is a young man from the Louisiana coast, who is looking for his brother Dave. I facilitate a horizontal connection as their hands grasp one another, and Paul moves on with his brother Dave.
* Dan was gambling in Biloxi-Gulfport when the storm hit. He is a middle-aged, married man who is terribly upset because he wasn't able to say goodbye to his wife, Vera and their three adult children, Danny, Bobby, and Ronnie. I facilitate a meeting in the inner realms wherein Dan says his heartfelt goodbyes to each of his family members.
* Darryl is very fidgety and frightened; he is from the New Orleans area. His anxiety is palpable; he is afraid no one will be there for him. I call for one of the baskets they used for rescue in New Orleans. He gets calmer as we move in the basket towards an opening. Darryl finds his uncle and aunt, and his grandmother and grandfather waiting for him. He is able to move on now that he has found a connection. His relatives pull him into the next realm.
* Joseph is a huge, huge man with rolls of flesh that make his head look smaller than it actually is. Joseph was in some sort of care facility in the New Orleans area, where he drowned. He is a tender, sweet man. I make several suggestions, but Joseph still thinks of himself as a person of huge bulk and feels he is forever stuck. Joseph finally accepts the idea of a flying carpet. We begin to travel. He wants to connect with his mother, Annette. We see her waving to us with a lace handkerchief. Joseph makes the connection with his mother and is able to make the transition into the light on his first attempt.
* Clint, the farmer, is from the Louisiana coast. He is very upset about his cows that died in the storm; he feels responsible for them. I facilitate a goodbye for Clint to his cows and Clint is able to go forward.
Each of these soul transitions was full of emotion as the souls moved from grief, fear, and confusion into the light. Reminiscent of the song, "Amazing Grace," they were no longer lost; they had been found and were able to move forward.
Those days of psychopomp work were an honor and, indeed, filled with grace. I was blessed to be a part of their respective soul journeys as well as to be of service on the higher planes.
And so it was.
— — —
Adele R. McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath, and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Adele R. McDowell
Here is my story:
Oftentimes, it begins with the pull chains on my bedside lamp. They start clacking together in the middle of the night. I have learned that this is a sign that someone wants my attention. So, it began for me.
It started on All Hallow's Eve, the evening of celebration of Samhain, the Celtic feast of the dead, which is the precursor to the Christian All Souls' Day and All Hallow's Day on November 1. In many cultures, this is considered a time between the seasons, a liminal time when the veil is thinnest between the living and the dead. So, it was for me, this daughter of the Celtic Isles.
I had returned home in an altered state, irrevocably changed. My internal settings had been stretched. My energy field was open. Over the days of thinned veils and sanctified times, a small parade of persons who were in need of shamanic assistance to help them cross over, presented themselves to me.
They were all lost souls who found me on the Waveland beach and needed assistance in finding the light. Here is who came to me, in the order they appeared:
* There is Katie, a 5-year-old from Waveland, who is looking for her parents, especially her mom. Katie needs a guide. This is a vertical move. I take Katie up — up, up, up in a column of light and we come to an opening above, a portal, if you will, and from there we see the hand of her mom reaching for Katie. They connect and up Katie goes.
* Paul is a young man from the Louisiana coast, who is looking for his brother Dave. I facilitate a horizontal connection as their hands grasp one another, and Paul moves on with his brother Dave.
* Dan was gambling in Biloxi-Gulfport when the storm hit. He is a middle-aged, married man who is terribly upset because he wasn't able to say goodbye to his wife, Vera and their three adult children, Danny, Bobby, and Ronnie. I facilitate a meeting in the inner realms wherein Dan says his heartfelt goodbyes to each of his family members.
* Darryl is very fidgety and frightened; he is from the New Orleans area. His anxiety is palpable; he is afraid no one will be there for him. I call for one of the baskets they used for rescue in New Orleans. He gets calmer as we move in the basket towards an opening. Darryl finds his uncle and aunt, and his grandmother and grandfather waiting for him. He is able to move on now that he has found a connection. His relatives pull him into the next realm.
* Joseph is a huge, huge man with rolls of flesh that make his head look smaller than it actually is. Joseph was in some sort of care facility in the New Orleans area, where he drowned. He is a tender, sweet man. I make several suggestions, but Joseph still thinks of himself as a person of huge bulk and feels he is forever stuck. Joseph finally accepts the idea of a flying carpet. We begin to travel. He wants to connect with his mother, Annette. We see her waving to us with a lace handkerchief. Joseph makes the connection with his mother and is able to make the transition into the light on his first attempt.
* Clint, the farmer, is from the Louisiana coast. He is very upset about his cows that died in the storm; he feels responsible for them. I facilitate a goodbye for Clint to his cows and Clint is able to go forward.
Each of these soul transitions was full of emotion as the souls moved from grief, fear, and confusion into the light. Reminiscent of the song, "Amazing Grace," they were no longer lost; they had been found and were able to move forward.
Those days of psychopomp work were an honor and, indeed, filled with grace. I was blessed to be a part of their respective soul journeys as well as to be of service on the higher planes.
And so it was.
— — —
Adele R. McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath, and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Adele R. McDowell