Category Archives: Personal Stories
Audio Version Available Below
Now there may be many Readers out there who regularly practice what I am about to describe but this only began to register with me in recent weeks. What I am talking about here pertains to the Reversed Cards which remain sitting in the deck after the drawing or selection process has been completed. What is their purpose or use if at all? Why were they Reversed in the first place? What can we deduce from them? Should we just totally ignore them, or treat them like the remaining Upright Cards, as in, just not part of that Reading? Of course this only applies if you are using Reversed Cards in your Readings. Read the rest of this entry
Greetings to All my Tarot Friends around the World,
I have just returned from vacation in France, and whereas I had intended on taking my laptop with me to continue work under the Mediterranean sun, I realised at the last-minute I couldn’t fit it into my carry on luggage as its dimensions were too large. My old laptop used to fit fine. This left me in a bit of a panic, but to be honest, it was the best thing all round as it meant I took a complete break from being hunched over a computer for hours on end every day. It was supposed to be a vacation after all and most sane people actually use that time to switch off and relax. With no time to find an alternative bag I had to leave my laptop behind and head for the airport. I experienced a certain degree of anxiety over this as I felt two weeks was a long time to be absent from my writing. However, my hands were tied and there was nothing for it but to step back and accept that work would have to wait.
So with one final sigh of regret, I boarded the Perpignan bound Aer Lingus Airbus and turned my attention to the long lazy warm days ahead in the Languedoc-Roussillon region of South West France. Thoughts of pungent coffee and croissants for breakfast, Rosé wine, salad Read the rest of this entry
Hello to all my Tarot Friends around the World,
Thought I would ask the Tarot to stage this mini production below about how I ended up so unwell in recent weeks. I hope you can follow my ill health drama through the imagery and symbolism used by the lovely Tarot School Actors and Players I have chosen to tell my story. It may involve using your creative imagination at times but that is always a plus when learning to read Tarot.
Here is me, Thinking, Doing and being Productive on a daily basis. No time for slacking. Too much to do. Must keep at it every day. My mind is never still. It is full of ideas and plans, concepts, theories and opinions. My mouth is never silent either. I talk a lot! Too many things interest me and I get enthusiastic about all my projects. I have a tendency to underestimate how much time and effort is required to achieve my goals. That doesn’t stop me though. Then I must not let an hour, a day, a moment go by without being productive. I have to see results. Weekends are just extra days when you can get work done. Must put in the hours. I am methodical and thorough so push myself to give 150% all the time. I have high very high standards which can make life quite challenging and demanding. I am not great at delegating so will attempt to do everything myself. I can be stubborn, belligerent and pedantic.
Now, here is my partner, The King of Cups. He takes life much easier than I do. He likes to relax and chill out. He believes there is a time for work, a time for play and a time for rest. When he gets tired he takes a break, or even just acknowledges that he is overdoing something. He is into self-care and will take it easy when he feels he needs to. He has been trying to counsel and advise the triple Queen personality (Swords, Wands, Pentacles) he lives with. He gently warns that I am working too hard at the moment. He finds it difficult to get me away from my desk at meal times. He sometimes has to get firm with me and remind me that he has boiled the kettle three times and still I have failed to turn up in the kitchen. I get irritated by his attempts to get me to leave what I am working on. I persist and explain to him that I have to finish what I am doing before I eat. The food and kettle can wait. He tells me that everyone needs a break, even if it is just for lunch. He says I am pushing myself too much and need to start scheduling some days off. I am busy and there is too much to be done. He goes ahead and eats without me. I am a stubborn woman after all. Read the rest of this entry
Hi to all my Tarot Friends around the World,
So sorry I have been missing for the last while. A combination of a bad flu dose on top of a heavy exam schedule in college. It will all be over by June so I am just keeping my head down and trying to wade through all the work as best as I can. The annoying thing is that I signed up for this Digital Technology Course to learn the skills that would help me develop my new Truly Teach Me Tarot website which has been sitting waiting for me to finish configuring on WordPress.org. Part of the training involves developing a website and digital marketing campaign for a small to medium enterprise business. Before I signed up for the course I attended an open information day and made inquiries as to whether I could use my own project instead of being assigned one by the college. I explained to them that I could not neglect my own site in order to build one for another. They consulted with the Head of College and I was told that although it had never been done before, they could see no reason as to why I could not work on my own project. I was delighted by this news and duly signed up.
Unfortunately things have not worked out as expected. I have had to plough through module after module of non relevant subjects, many of which I have covered in previous courses. On top of that there have been non-stop tedious assignments which have taken up so much of my time. At the information day, some people asked about the workload and whether it would spill over into our weekends. Some people had weekend jobs or family commitments, and were worried about juggling it all. We were reassured that there would be sufficient time in the class day to complete all assignments. Of course it has not worked out like that. Read the rest of this entry
Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh Go Léir,
A big Happy Saint Patrick’s Day to all my Tarot Friends around the world. It’s a day when the whole world turns green. Irish people all over the world celebrate their Irishness on this day. It brings us all together as one big family regardless of how far we are away from each other. Today, every city, town and village around this island will take part in parades and gatherings. There will be much Irish music, Irish dancing and plenty of Guinness and whiskey too.
I thought I would share a little bit our National Day with you. It’s a day for everything Irish and for having a good laugh.
River Dance at The Samuel Beckett Bridge in Dublin, Ireland today. Jean Butler with the long Auburn hair leads the troop of dancers. Jean was the original female lead dancer of Riverdance when it first burst onto the stage as the interval act at The Eurovision Song Contest back in 1994. She toured with the show for many years. Great to see her performing for Patrick’s Day. Still looking good Jean.
Click on the Post Part of The Link below to see The Video on Facebook. Click Riverdance to see the Whole Page
Post by Riverdance
Click on the Post Part of The above Link to see The Video on Facebook. Click Riverdance to see the Whole Page
Our Lovely Sinead O’Connor in Collaboration with The Chieftains – The Foggy Dew
The High Kings of Ireland -Rocky Road To Dublin
Billy Connolly Tours Ireland
Conan O’Brien on his Visit to Ireland – Very Funny
Conan O’Brien Visits The Guinness Store House in Dublin, Ireland – Great Fun
Have A Happy Saint Patrick’s Day Wherever You Are!
Happy Holidays to all my Tarot Friends around the World,
I trust you are all enjoying the festive season and not overindulging too much. Here in Ireland, the stores and streets have been their usual crazy self with people dashing and rushing from shop to shop, weighed down with bags and bags of presents and special treats. The Irish go mad at this time of the year and all caution is thrown to the wind. Children have been wild with excitement for the last couple of weeks but I have also seen the tears and tantrums when it all became too much. Stress creeps in regardless of how happy and joyful we all appear to be, so I do hope that most of you are getting to sit down today, for a couple of hours at least. It would be a shame to miss the whole thing because you were too busy or too shattered.
This time of year is very difficult for many people for it brings painful memories of loved ones gone and times past. I lost my 11-year-old son at this time of year in 2007 and I have found the last few weeks, and especially yesterday, quite awful to get through. I became quite lost in sorrow and grief, and worried how I would cope. Today, is not as bad as I expected so hopefully I am beginning to come out of my mournful self. I think it was seeing all the shoppers and listening in on their excited chatter about what they were buying and when the tree was going up. I watched the wonder and awe on the faces of the little children as they headed in to visit Santa in shopping centers as my heart twisted and lurched with my loss. Where was my son? So many memories and all those special times I took for granted. I saw my son in their faces, crazy with excitement, wanting everything he laid eyes on. I thought of his long lists for poor Santa which he normally started compiling from sometime in early October. My frenzied rush to shops to make sure a certain toy or game hadn’t run out. The hiding of gifts in attics and in neighbours’ homes. All gone now. Of course he would be nearly 19 years old, long past Santa stage, and probably looking for Xbox games, new phone or the latest tablet, clothes, or maybe just money. He might have a girlfriend, or two, college friends and possibly a car. Yes, all gone now and we will never know. All that is left are memories and ghosts of Christmas past.
I just thought I would share a little of the Irish Holiday Season with you in the following videos so you can see for yourself how important family are at this time of the year.
This one is not from The Holiday period but reflects the type of entertainment we Irish lay on for home comers and visitors at our National Airport in Dublin.
And of course Christmas would not be Christmas without our Shane McGowan and The Pogues with their Christmas song ‘Fariytale of New York’.
Happy Holidays to one and All from Ireland,
Nollaig Shona, (Happy Christmas in Irish)
Vivien (Your Tarot Teacher)
Thanks for all the supportive comments yesterday. They were much appreciated. I felt I had you all in the Chiropractor’s room with me.
The Need to Seek Professional Help. Can’t do This on My Own
Well I survived my visit to The Chiropractor and live to fight another day. I promised I would let you all know how I got on so am now here to fill you in.
I was quite anxious about my impulsive move in selecting a Chiropractor. I have always been given mixed and conflicting advice about the benefits and success rates from this type of therapy. In fact there have been those in the past who lectured me strongly about the dangers of going to either a Chiropractor or Osteopath. ‘You can come out worse than when you in’ or ‘I have a friend whose back was destroyed by a Chiropractor’ and ‘I wouldn’t let a Chiropractor near me’. I have heard all the scary stories, but I have also heard of the successes too. When you are desperate and have reached a stage where you just couldn’t care less anymore, you are prepared to take crazy risks. I woke yesterday morning in a do or die mood and threatened to throw myself out the window if this mess of my neck didn’t go away. When my partner Googled Chiropractors in our region, he came up with the name of one that I knew in the local village/town of Clane, County Kildare. Actually I had been to this Chiropractor Clinic once before back in 2012, but never actually had a treatment. It had been a consultation regarding, yes, my neck, back in October 2012. Richard, the Chiropractor had taken some digital images of my spine, and because he saw a couple of ‘things’ in my cervical spine (neck), he advised I have an MRI of that area before starting treatment.
I had the MRI a couple of weeks later and because the results went back to my GP, he set me forth onto the path of the wearying and exhausting hospital system. I went the traditional medical route instead of returning to the Chiropractor. Somehow or other, I forgot about Richard and got caught up in hospital appointments that took months to come around. While I waited to be seen by the experts, my condition deteriorated and I resorted to finding help elsewhere. I don’t exactly know why I didn’t go straight back to Richard, The Chiropractor. Instead, my niece suggested a Osteopath who had helped her in the past and I eagerly took his number. I managed to secure an appointment, but his rooms were in Dublin City and I could only get in there once a week. He was a very busy man and appointments were like gold dust. When I managed to secure one with him, I arrived in Baggot St, Dublin, in a bit of a wobble. By that stage my balance had been gone for some time and my left cheek and eye-socket felt as if they were fractured. My lower jaw was moving in an exaggerated way to the left when I talked, and my speech was slurred. I kept biting my tongue and the inside of my mouth. There didn’t seem to be enough room in my jaw for my teeth and they ached and throbbed. My tongue also seemed to big for my mouth and I was at odds as to where to put it. My neck arms and shoulders were a complete mess.
Feeling Trapped and Tied Up in Pain
I really didn’t know what to expect from the session, but Paul, the Osteopath, after patiently listening to my long and weird history of symptoms, explained the nature of his work and how he hoped to help me. Then he produced his smart phone and asked me to stick my tongue out. He took a lovely photo of my tongue and then viewed it on his computer screen. He asked me if I had suffered a trauma or grief in recent years as he pointed out a deep line on the image of my tongue. I told him about the loss of my son from cancer in 2007 and he nodded wisely. He explained that it had left its imprint on me. The tongue, he said, was like a map of the body and easily showed up the areas where dis-ease reigned. He suggested that there was a lot of unexpressed grief and emotional repression that could very well be the root cause of my misaligned body. After the consultation he put me up on the plinth and proceeded to feel around the back of my neck, uttering ‘ah’ whenever he found inconsistencies. He checked out my jaw, shoulders, back, arms and legs. Overall he found a lot of things out-of-place. He then began the session in earnest, making adjustments in my neck and doing some painful things with my jaw. He reset my hips and rolled my arms in funny ways. Then he set me up with some acupuncture needles and left me to listen to classical music. I remember lying on the plinth with tears rolling down my face, as emotions rose to the surface. I couldn’t help myself. It was very relaxing and I could have stayed in that zone, perfectly happy and at peace for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, he had another client due in so I had to return to my world of chaos and leave the building. I was to come back for several more sessions and already I couldn’t wait for the next. Read the rest of this entry
Greetings from Ireland on Father’s Day,
My Dad Jim (James) Dunne 26th of September 1935 – 20th of May 2005
(With My Mother Anne, Sister Susan, His Mother Peggy and His Sister Arlene at a Race Meeting)
Thinking of You Today Da! xxx
I would like to wish all Father’s, not just in Ireland, but all over the World a very Happy Father’s Day. My greetings go out to all Father’s, those who are still with us and those who have passed over into The Spirit World. My Father left this world after many years of illness in May of 2005 but I like to think that he still watches over me and tries to influence me wherever he can.
I remember a Dream I had a few years ago when I was becoming too diverse within my Holistic Practice. I was doing too much and my energies were dissipated into several disciplines. I had drifted away from my Tarot Writing and was concentrating on other areas. Then one night I had a dream and in it there was a large Manor House with a long sweeping avenue which had stud railing on both sides. I was walking up the avenue towards the house when I saw a person approaching me, leading a horse. There were several horses in the paddocks beside me so I thought nothing unusual of this.
As the person drew nearer to me I was surprised to see that it was my father. He was leading a beautiful tall bay mare with a lead rope and I was very surprised to see him. My father had a great love for horses and I had spent many years working with them and competing. My father spoke to me and asked me why I wanted to try another horse. I then became aware of why I was walking up the avenue. It was to fetch a new horse but my father had cut me off before I got there. I told him that the horse I was going to see was wonderful and I was excited about trying it out. He held firmly onto the lead rope of the glorious mare and stared at her, and then back at me. He told me that it was not a good idea to keep changing horses. He advised that I should stick with the one I knew best and it wouldn’t let me down. He wanted to know why I was complicating my life? He told me that there were loads of horses but that this bay mare was the one that suited me best. He told me to look no further and then handed me the lead rope and began to walk away from me in the direction of the Manor House. He didn’t say goodbye or turn around. I watched him walk until he disappeared out of sight and then I turned around and began to walk back down the avenue from where I came, leading the bay mare beside me. It was at this stage I woke up and lay for a while trying to digest all that my father had said and the implications of the dream.
The dream haunted me the next day and has stayed with me ever since. I don’t dream of my father often so I took it as a sign that he really was trying to send me a definite message, and had wanted to deliver it in person for extra impact. I had started my spiritual travels with Tarot back in early 1997, and had put in much study and work over several years. I then began to drift and was lured in several directions. I have many interests and was constantly seeking new areas of study and extra qualifications. It was only in recent times that I realised I was running in too many directions, that I should go back to where I started and where I had put the most work into. I do not regret any of my further studies and have had remarkable experiences because of them, but I do have a tendency to take on too much, and then the workload becomes back-breaking. So I eventually decided to take my deceased father’s advice and take back the horse that I knew best. The horse that also me knew best. I had put so much work into that horse that I was ashamed I had neglected it. That is why my father cut me off on the path I was heading. He was handing back to me the tools that I had started out with. I now believe that his attitude towards me in the dream suggested that it was The Tarot that I should be concentrating on and not twenty other things. Horses are symbolically very powerful, magical and spiritual animals and in the dream I was surrounded by them. This is where I was to focus my work on and let everything else fade into the background or at least take a back seat.
And so, that is exactly what I have been doing for the last two years with this site, putting down all I know about Tarot. I have mentioned before that I often read back over my work and wonder where it all came from. Sometimes I have little recollection of even writing it. Maybe it is not just my son, Conor who is speaking through me, also from The Spirit World,but my father too. Thank you Dad! Of course his own Grandmother read The Tarot, so I wonder?????
So , let us look at The Four Kings of The Court Cards, The Father Figures in the Royal Families and see what sort of Gift for Father’s Day they might receive from their offspring. What will their Cards be like? How will they React when they receive their Gift? How will they Celebrate the day.
I used to get my Father, Special Irish Rugby Ties made of Silk each year and he would wear them to all the matches or on special occasions. I now have his full collection of these ties, except for his Ireland/France Rugby Tie which he wore for his funeral.
King of Wands
What Might the King of Wands Sons or Daughter buy him for Father’s Day – A Formula 1 Driving Lesson on a Race Track, A Two Hour Rental of a Ferrari, A Surprise Holiday in the Sun, Tickets for his Favourite Soccer or Rugby Team, Tickets to a Rock Concert or Festival, Anything Gadgety and Hi Spec; latest Smart Phone, Tablet, Camera etc. New Hiking Gear, a Racing Bike, a Motor Bike, Latest Action/Thriller Box Set, Expensive Aftershave. A 15 yr old Malt Scotch. Grandchildren will have bought him a funny gift or a puzzle.
The Card – Action Hero Style Dad. His Grandchildren will have made him a Card which he will find very amusing.
How Will he React? – Loud and great bear hugs. He might try to conceal his watery eyes though. He will chase his grandchildren around the garden or carry them on his shoulders. He will be feeling in great form.
How will they celebrate the Day? – Family Barbeque with him cooking, loud music and plenty of beer. They might decide to go as a family on a Hill Walk and bring a picnic with them. Lots of laughter and talk of sport, business and the latest updates on his kid’s lives and how well they are doing.
King of Cups
What Might the King of Cups Sons or Daughter buy him for Father’s Day? – An Expensive Bottle of Vintage Red/Port or Brandy, Tickets to The Theatre or Concert Hall, A Good Book from The Bestseller List, A Coastal Inspired Painting, Clothes; Cardigan/Pullover/ Pyjamas/Dressing Gown/Slippers, An Overnight Stay or Mini Break by the sea or in an old country castle, A CD Collection of Golden Oldies, His Favourite Aftershave, A Framed Photo of The Family, New Fishing/Sailing Gear. A book about Wines of The World. Grandchildren will have bought hankies or will have made him something at home.
The Card – Carefully Selected with just the right Verse inside. Very Emotional with scenes of Sail Boats. Grandchildren will have made their own Card and it will take pride of place on the mantle piece or shelf. He will keep every card in a special box once Father’s Day is over.
How Will he React? – Hugs and tears all round but he will tell them they shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. He will tell them that their presence is enough as he loves to see them. He will keep looking at his gift. It will be exactly what he wanted. He will be very happy and offer everyone a drink. He will give his Grandchildren some pocket-money.
How will they Celebrate The Day? – Large Family Dinner at home with his Spouse/Partner, children and grandchildren. He may be invited to one of his Children’s houses where the whole family will gather. A Lunch or Dinner in his favourite Restaurant. He might have just a little too much to drink and get very sentimental. He will certainly be spoiled.
King of Swords
What Might the King of Swords Sons or Daughter buy him for Father’s Day? – A Tough one because he is very difficult to buy for. They have this dilemma each year and they rarely see him use anything they got him on previous occasions. The same Gifts each year. A good book (non-fiction), Tickets to the theatre or Opera, An Expensive Bottle of Vintage Wine/Scotch, a Classic Sweater or Shirt, A Weekend City Break, A Watch, An Antique Letter Opener or Desk Set, A Silk Tie in a Plain Colour, a Leather Brief Case/Toilet Bag, An Expensive Aftershave, A Yearly Subscription to Reader’s Digest, A Fountain Pen. His Grandchildren will buy him socks or gloves, a CD of Classical Music.
The Card – Very Formal but deliberated over for much time. The inside Verse is the problem as they all sound too sentimental. His Grandchildren may or may not make him a Card. If they do he will ask them to explain exactly what that blue blob in the corner is meant to be or why they have painted the grass orange when it should be green. The Grandchildren may not know how to answer his questions.
How Will he React? – Again very Formal, maybe a bit stiff. He will be very polite and thank them all for their gifts but tell them they shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble or wasted their money. He will awkwardly kiss them on the cheek or give a brief hug. It could be embarrassing for all. He will leave his Spouse/Partner to display the Cards on the Mantelpiece or Shelf. His Grandchildren will keep asking their Parents when they are going home as they will not be allowed watch the television or run around.
How Will They Celebrate the Day? – A formal family Meal either at home or out in a restaurant. He will relax after a while and enjoy himself. The conversation at the table will get more lively as the meal progresses. He will want to know how each of his Children are getting on and how his Grandchildren’s school grades are. He will order expensive wine and comment about every aspect of the meal and service.
The King of Pentacles
What Might the King of Pentacles’ Sons or Daughter buy him for Father’s Day? Lots of Gifts to Choose from. Something Golf Related, Tickets to watch The Rugby, The Official Rugby Sweater of his Favourite Team, An Expensive Vintage Wine/Port/Scotch/Brandy, Hill-Walking Equipment, An Expensive Cashmere Sweater, Books: about History, Global Leaders, Business People who have made it to The Top, The Secret of Success and Wealth, a New Watch or Wallet, A Designer Silk or Cashmere Scarf/Tie, Cufflinks, Leather Briefcase/Travel Bag, Tickets to The Theatre or Concert of his Favourite Singer, Something fancy for his Horse, Riding Lessons, Golf Lessons, A Wine Tasting Weekend, A Piece of Art, a Gift Voucher. His Grandchildren will give him a framed photo of all of them for his office desk.
The Card – Typical Father’s Day Card depicting scenes of Golfers, Cars, Football. Could also have Country Scenes or Horse-Racing. He will read each card intensely. His Grandchildren will have made him a Card which he will value and treasure. He will tell them they are talented and that they should think about going to art college when they grow up. Their parents will remind their Father that they are still only kids. He will carefully place his Card where he can see them.
How Will He React? – He will examine each gift and ask questions about them. There will be fond hugs and great delight on his part. He loves having his family around him and is proud of them all. He will be genuinely delighted with all his gifts and understand the effort that went into choosing them. He will try on any clothes there and then to make sure they fit and to show them off. He will probably wear whatever it is he has been given. His children will advise him that they have the receipt should he need to exchange. He will ask his Grandchildren where they think he should put their Framed Photo but they will be too busy playing with the dogs and getting hair all over their clothes.
How Will They Celebrate the Day? Either a loud and Happy Family Meal at home or in one of his Children’s Houses, or they may book a lunch or dinner in an old Country House or Castle . Good Hearty Food and the best of Wine. The Grandchildren will spend the afternoon running around the grounds and petting the horses in the nearby fields. They may all go for a walk later that day to work off some of their food. The dogs will go too of course. It will be an immensely satisfying day and a chance for him to catch up will all the goings on in his Children’s and Grandchildren’s Lives. He will sneak some pocket-money to each of his Grandchildren and tell them to invest it wisely. He will fall asleep in his armchair that evening.
Copyright © Vivien Ní Dhuinn 2014
Below is an article I think you might find interesting. If you scroll down further you can read my own personal experience of Out of Body Experience or Astral Projection.
Vivien (your tarot teacher)
SATURDAY, APR 21, 2012 09:00 PM +0100
Near death, explained
New science is shedding light on what really happens during out-of-body experiences — with shocking results.
Please Click on Link to go directly to Article Near Death Explained
Excerpted with permission from “The Brain Wars: The Scientific Battle Over the Existence of the Mind and the Proof That Will Change the Way We Live Our Lives.” Courtesy of HarperOne.
Mario Beauregard is associate research professor at the Departments of Psychology and Radiology and the Neuroscience Research Center at the University of Montreal. He is the coauthor of “The Spiritual Brain” and more than one hundred publications in neuroscience, psychology and psychiatry.
The Link above will bring you to an interesting article about OBEs and NDEs. Below are my own personal experiences.
My Personal Out of Body Experiences
I started having regular involuntary Out of Body Experiences back in 1998 but do remember also having them as a very young child, probably no more than 5 years of age. They were very different to the ones I experienced as an adult. As a child I would awake from my sleep to feel myself being pulled upwards and away from my body. There was always a large white glowing orb of light, about the size of a football, just hovering above my bed which I felt initiated this process each time. I remember floating around the room with the orb drawing me with it. I would move through the walls after it and then it would pass through the external walls to the outside. However, I was never able to follow it. Instead I would view it through the window on the landing and it would stay just outside as if it was staring in at me. I remember feeling I wanted to go with it and being upset that I couldn’t. I used to tell my family about it but I don’t think anyone believed me. It stopped happening all of a sudden and I remember going to bed at night hoping it would come back. The it, during this time became a she to me and I recall there was some form of mental communication between the two of us. In later years I wondered if it had been my Spirit Guide checking up on me or someone from a past life.
Over the years I had a variety of psychic experiences but no out of body experiences. So in 1998 they began again but as an adult I had lost my trusting childish mind and was initially terrified of them. It always happened the same way. I would wake out of a sleep to feel my whole body vibrating and strong pressure in my head. Then I would find that I could not move except for my eyes that darted around the room in a panic. That is when I would see them. There would be up to six silhouettes, dark outlines of body form that blocked the light coming in the window from the street lights outside. Some were tall, others short, some stocky, some slim. The room took on a very different light and I felt I was in a form of twilight zone. I fought against the inability to move my body and as the vibrations became more intense there would be a sudden pop and the first thing I would see were my legs shooting up in the air, leaving me in a form of headstand on the bed. The head always seemed to detach last and then I would almost hit the ceiling with speed at the sudden release. At this stage I lost sight of the figures but I would be aware of them close by.
For a long time I would stay in the house, floating from room to room, swirling and doing tumbles in the air. While I was out of my body, I was not afraid. It was only the coming out part that frightened me as I would lose total control of what was happening to me. These OBEs became very frequent and after some time I realised that I could leave the house. I discovered that if I put my hands together, as if I was diving into water, I could pass through walls, doors and windows. Up until then I had only gone through rooms where the door was open. I then began to leave the house and travel around where I lived. I knew that someone always travelled with me but rarely saw them.
I decided I would go and see someone who could help me better understand what was happening to me. I found a local woman who was a medium and healer. I explained my experiences to her and she clapped her hands together in excitement and told me that I was lucky, for there were people who trained for years to Astral Project and still failed to do so. For me it was happening naturally. She told me not to be scared and that nothing would happen to me for I was protected. I would always be able to come back to my body at a second’s notice. She then told me that I could travel anywhere I wanted to, even to a foreign land or into space. All I had to do was think of where I wanted to go as my body detached, and hey presto, I would be there.
I am not sure if I was comforted by all this or became more fearful but the next time it happened I decided to do as she suggested. As my body was detaching I thought of a place not far from me, a place I worked in that had night staff and felt that it would be safe to go there, and maybe I could see things and find out the next day if what I had witnessed had actually happened. After I detached from my body, I found myself sitting on the window ledge of an old house. I was quite high up off the ground and the ledge appeared to be made of granite. There was some sitting beside me and I remember wondering why I was not frightened of being in such a precarious position, in danger of falling at any stage. We then floated down and entered through thick walls that I felt dragged on me like glue. We were suddenly inside a large stone room that was full of old furniture and odds and ends. Then I noticed there were other people there, people like me, floating around. Some wore clothes from other eras and whereas most took no notice of me, some did smile as they passed me by. Then all of a sudden I was back in my bed and jumping out of it, physically this time, to check on my young son who had woken crying. I realised then that the woman was right. Regardless of what I had been doing or where I had been, I immediately returned to my body as my son called out for me in the night. However, I had not gone to where I worked and was quite disappointed by all this as I had to question whether I was having some lucid dream and not some mystical experience after all.
I didn’t have to wait long before I had a chance to try it out again. As I detached from my body, I chose to go and have a look at where my ex-husband ran his business from. We had also lived there and I had not been back in a long time due to confrontational issues between us. He did come to visit his son at that time but I never went near the old house. And so I found myself suddenly outside the gate and making my way, down the avenue that led to the house. The first thing I noticed was that the avenue had changed and now forked at a point with an extra pathway that led around to the back of the house where the business was located. I entered through the wall and found that much had changed inside too. Just about everything had been relocated and an extra floor had been added to make a loft area for storage. Later on, back in my bed, I decided once more that I must be making it all up as although it resembled the old house and business, things were very different. This played on my mind considerably as I could not verify one way or the other whether what I had observed was for real or just my imagination. I decided to try it out and took a big risk of being called a lunatic by my ex-husband.
The next time he called to visit my son I blatantly started remarking about all the changes he had made to the old house, the driveway and the business area. Instead of looking at me as if I was a nutter, he got quite angry with me and accused me of spying on him and how dare I enter his house or business without his consent. I refused to let it go and insisted on knowing if what I had said was in fact true. He just wanted to know how I had got into the place and when I told him that I hadn’t, not in the normal sense, he then accused me of having spies inform me of what he was doing. Before he left I demanded to know if I was right. He eventually agreed but warned me not to go near the place again unless I was invited. So I had been there after all, and all that I had seen was not a figment of my imagination. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually astral travelling.
These OBEs continued for some time and I had a variety of experiences. One night as I was travelling down a roadway, well, floating down it at speed, I became aware of a presence behind me. I knew instantly that it was not a nice energy. I slowed down and turned around. Behind me floated a mass of dense black. It had no shape or form but I could feel the heaviness of it and knew it wanted to follow me. I remember suddenly going into some form of automatic response. I pulled myself completely upright in the air and started to do some strange things with my hands before stretching my arms out in front of me with the palms of my hands facing outwards as if I was pushing against something. A huge roar erupted from my open mouth shouting ‘no’ in a long strung out manner. I did not recognise my voice but I felt intense energy flood through me and out of me towards the black mass. I knew I had done this before as it came naturally to me and felt that I was in total control. The black mass began to retreat and dissipate and I stared at it for some time before eventually continuing on my way.
In time, these episodes began to calm down and I would not have one for weeks on end. Then when I had almost forgotten about them and life had returned to normal, I was asked in work one day to deliver a parcel to a house across the road which sat behind a high stone wall. As soon as I went through the gateway, I experienced a strong de ja vu feeling. It all felt familiar to me but I had never been there before. It was a large old stone house with sash windows and original shutters still intact. I went up to the front door and rang the bell and a woman came out but directed me to one of the outbuildings instead. I made my way to the old stone building which had probably being the coach house and stables at one stage. The door was open and so I walked in. As I stepped in out of the daylight outside, it took a while for me to adjust my vision to the darkness inside. As my vision settled I could not believe what I saw in front of me. I was transported back in time to the first night I had actually asked to go somewhere. In front of me was a store room of sorts but it was filled with antique furniture; tables, mirrors, chairs, settees, paintings. I knew instantly that I had been there that night, the night where I had met others from different time periods floating around too. I was so excited I could barely speak but delivered my parcel and went back to work trying to figure out why I had gone there and not to my place of work instead.
It came to me quite suddenly what I had done. Both the House and my place of work were called after the area they were located in. I had always referred to my workplace by its first name and not the full title which was quite long, and so when I had asked that night where I wanted to go, I had just used the place name out of habit and as a result went there but not to the exact location I had intended, although I was close enough, just across the road from it. I realised that one had to be very specific with one’s intent where Astral Travel was concerned, otherwise who knows where one would end up.
Since then I have the occasional OBE and these usually occur when I fall asleep doing a Reiki Healing on myself with my hands still resting on my Solar Plexus. I sometimes go off to other places but generally stay put in the house. At times I have woken to find others in my room staring over me in the bed, but they are faces I know and I doubt if they even realise they are out of their body and paying me a visit. There was one, a family member who I felt comfortable telling. She woke me up one night as she leaned over me with her long blonde hair. She was giggling and I asked her what she was doing here and why she had come? She didn’t answer me and I could hear other voices on the landing calling her. She had not come alone. The next day I texted her and asked her what she was doing in my house in the middle of the night when I knew she was away at college. She couldn’t’ believe what I told her for she had had the strangest night’s sleep and the weirdest dreams herself. What she described to me was very similar to my experience of OBEs. She had been frightened by it, just like I had.
Sometimes after being out of my body I have found that I don’t always come back correctly. It is as if I have not fully reconnected with my body and will feel spaced-out and heady for the whole next day. I need a full night’s sleep the following night to settle back in again.
I could tell you a heap more stories about my OBE journeys but will leave it at that. I will say though that my son, who passed from this world in 2007 as a result of cancer at the age of nearly 12 years, spoke constantly of his Out of Body Experiences that started from quite a young age. He would tell me the most remarkable stories, and he was able to do these projections at will, even while he sat in the schoolyard at lunchtime. He told me he was meditating, I never showed him how, he just did it himself. He told me he would close his eyes and relax. He would then see a lot of colours and he would choose one, let’s say yellow. The yellow would then explode and he would find himself travelling at speed down roads and across fields where he would just look at what was going on around him. He would then come back and get up from where he was sitting in the schoolyard and go back to class.
He soon began to see the colours around people too and told me one day that he thought everyone could see them and that it was not unusual. He spoke of spirits he saw in the house and would come home from school complaining some days of the heavy energy in the class, or coming from a certain boy. He would say to me that he thought the boy was not happy and he would be sad for him. He saw orbs of bright lights floating around the house and then took a shine to crystals. He built quite a collection of them but was insistent on buying his own as he had to hold them in his hand to see if he liked their energy or not. Some he said were heavy or burned his skin and he would immediately put them back. He seemed to know what he was doing and then one day requested a crystal pendulum which he took to instantly, knowing how to use it without being shown. He would use it to talk to the trees in the local forest, asking them if they were happy or not.
I am not sure as to the nature of what I experienced and the experiences of my son but I know they were not a figment of my imagination and have been able to verify my travels on several occasions. Why they started when they did and then ceased I have no explanation for and I suppose will remain a mystery until the day when I pass over. Hopefully it will all become clear then.
Vivien (your Tarot Teacher)
Copyright © Vivien Ni Dhuinn 2014
For God’s Sake Mam, I’m Eighteen!
(Conversations with my son Conor, 15th of March 1996 – 10th of December 2007)
“Turn Down that Noise” I shout from the bottom of the stairs,
“What Noise?” comes the frustrated response from above,
“That Noise. Whatever it is, just turn it down for the love of God” my voice barely audible over the din,
“That’s not noise, that’s my music” comes an exasperated retort,
“Well it doesn’t sound like music to me” says I as I return to the Kitchen, the volume upstairs barely reduced for a few seconds before returning to its original window rattling level,
“That’s it” I say to myself as I take the stairs two at a time and burst into his room,
Immediately I am surrounded by a deathly silence,
There is no one there, no music system, just his room as normal,
His large Stuffed Husky Dog stares back at me, so too does Fungi,
It is then I remember he is dead, my son is dead,
but I know if he was here he would be playing loud music,
That is what boys of his age do I am told, but have no personal experience of it,
Both The Husky and Fungi sit on the back of his bed settee, the settee he ordered from Argos when he was very ill,
The bed settee that was going to make his room more grown up,
It was not in stock so had to be ordered,
It arrived the day after he died, too late for him to enjoy,
I was determined he would be laid out on it,
The Sound of racing cars fills the air and immediately I am transported to Mondello,
For the Love of God does he have to play that XBOX Game all the time?
I am back at the bottom of the stairs again, another day,
“I want you to turn that off and get some study done for your college exams” I shout over the screeching tyres,
“In a minute, I just have to complete this round and I am in the lead” he shouts back,
Ten minutes later Mondello is still in full swing,
Up the Stairs I go again and into his room,
Silence descends once more and I see neither sign of an XBOX nor my son,
Instead I stare at his kiddish DVDs sitting in their revolving stand,
My eyes then drawn to the two ceramic Angel Boxes on his window sill,
One contains his first few baby teeth, the other, two locks of hair,
One soft and babyish, a curl, the other dark and thick,
It is then I remember that he is dead, my son is dead,
He never got as far as College, but boys of his age normally do I am told, but have no personal experience of it,
I retreat from his room, flat and depressed.
It is the 15th of March and I am sitting in my front room lost in reverie and the past,
I hear a voice calling,
I am immediately jolted into the present and strain my ears to be sure I heard what I heard,
There it is again, “Mam”,
It is coming from upstairs and I sort of recognise the voice,
I rush to the bottom of the stairs and look up,
A tall young man stands at the top staring down at me,
Our eyes lock and my heart turns in my chest,
I can barely hear my own voice “is it you, is it really you?”
The young man at the top of the stairs nods his head in acknowledgement and extends his hand to me,
“Oh God” I choke on the words, my legs feel too weak to cover the distance,
He beckons to me once more,
I begin my ascent, one step at a time, never once taking my eyes off his face,
I reach the last step and I can see him closely now,
I dissolve into tears,
My dead son is here, my dead son is here, he has come to see me at last
I am afraid to touch him in case he dissolves before my eyes,
Am I imagining this?
I begin to take him in,
He stands towering above me, tall and slim,
His dark hair, almost shoulder length, is thick and wavy,
His piercing blue eyes sparkle with vitality, and dare I say it, life,
He smiles at me and I can see he still has his dimples,
Oh God, I can’t believe he is here, really here,
He has a slight shadow of growth on his chin and I am taken aback by this,
He is dressed simply; a pair of casual slim jeans and a long sleeved navy baggy t-shirt with something printed on the front,
I cannot make out what it says,
He is barefooted which I think odd,
And then he speaks,
My dead son speaks, my dead son speaks to me,
His sounds deep and very manly,
I realise his voice has broken and I begin to cry,
He wraps his arms around me and rests his head on mine,
“Oh don’t cry Mam, please don’t” he soothes me,
I wipe my eyes and find my own voice,
“Why have you waited so long to visit me”? I sob, still in his arms,
“Where I am, it is not that long” he gently hugs me,
“And where is that exactly”? I ask curiously,
“Somewhere far away, in another galaxy, millions of light years away.
It suits me very nicely” he smiles mischievously at me, “I have returned to where I came from.
I probably never fully left there when I was here, for my games often mimicked my true home”
“Are you saying that all the time you spent dressed up as a Jedi Knight was not just a game you played, there was more to it?” I ask incredulously,
“Yes and no, it is just very similar that’s all, we work with energy a bit like ‘The Force’ in Star Wars”
He sounds very grown up and knowledgeable,
“So all those Light Sabres were not a waste of money then?” I am now beginning to understand his fascination with them,
“No, not a waste of money, but I know now how much pressure I put on you to keep buying them for me” he guiltily replies,
“Mam, I do not have much time, so we must talk” he takes charge of the conversation now in a very mature manner,
“What do you mean; you do not have much time?” I sound panicky as I have not seen him in so long and already he is talking about leaving again,
“I have to use strong energy to visit like this and I am only allowed take a certain amount of this energy with me, that is why we need to talk quickly”,
He gently steers me towards his bedroom,
My dead son and I walk towards his bedroom,
Inside the bedroom I see that that his wardrobe doors are open and all his DVDs are stacked high on the floor,
His bedside drawers have been pulled open and all their contents too are piled in bundles on his bed settee,
“I don’t understand” I say looking around at the mess, “what are you doing?”
“It’s time Mam” he looks at me and I see a tinge of sadness in his eyes, or maybe pity,
“Time for what?” I ask nervously,
“It’s time to sort out all my stuff”, he stares at me and silence falls between us,
I can see he knows this is hard for me. “Time to clear my room Mam”.
He lets it rest with me for a moment,
“You know it and I know it Mam, the time has come, it is long overdue” he holds my hand as he speaks to me, his touch cool and tingly,
“What do you mean by clear it?” I feel panic rising in my chest,
“Just about everything must go”, he is sounding business-like now and is avoiding my tearful eyes,
“It is blocking me from visiting more often, I can’t bring her here when my room is like this”
He realises he has said too much,
“What do you mean block you from visiting, and who can you not bring here?” I look at him bewildered,
“I can’t bring Zara here for my room is embarrassing, it belongs to a young boy “. He sees my confused face.
“You have a girlfriend?” I sound astounded
Yes, I have a girlfriend, you remember Zara don’t you from St. John’s?” He searches my face for signs of recognition,
My hand flies to my mouth “oh my God, Zara with the beautiful long blonde hair?”
“Yes, the very one. She passed shortly before me” He reminds me,
“So you eventually found yourself a girlfriend? Wasn’t Zara older than you?”
“Yes”, he smiles “but age doesn’t really exist where we are” he informs me,
“Well you always had an eye for the older girls, remember Lydia and Vicky?” I am very excited now,
“I do, I always had good taste when it came to the girls” he laughs out loud and his room comes alive once more with the sound of joy, and his voice
My dead son has a girlfriend, my dead son has a girlfriend,
“Back to the business of me being here Mam, honestly I don’t have much time and if you want me to visit more, then you must listen and pay attention to what I have to say”,
He seems anxious about the time he has been here and I sense he will be gone soon, so I listen,
He begins to pull some clothes from the wardrobe and holds them up against his tall lean body,
They are trousers and only come as far as his knees,
He gives me a knowing look before throwing them on the bed-settee with all the other items he has neatly stacked,
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as he pulls out his school uniform,
“There are three of these in the wardrobe Mam. I will allow you keep the best one but the others must go”,
I grab the uniform from him and hold it tightly to my body,
Very quickly he is pulling everything from the rails and tossing them onto the bed settee,
I quickly re-claim them,
A tug of war begins and he insists that I let go,
He is stronger than me, and so wins,
Bit by bit the wardrobe is cleared of clothing and then he starts on all the shelves,
One by one, dragging everything out; his school bag, swimming bag, boxes of toys
This time he heaps them on the floor,
He has allowed me certain items, but his accumulation is massive in comparison to my sad pathetic little bundle,
I begin to cry, sobbing my heart out,
He takes my hand and sits me down,
“I know this is hard but it must be done, I am no longer that 11 year old boy”
“You were nearly 12” I interrupt his flow of wise talk,
“Regardless Mam, I have left that age behind just as Zara has left hers too. We visit her house and her bedroom has been changed and freshly painted. Some of her stuff is still there, a reminder of her but not a shrine”. He stops suddenly as he sees my dejected face,
I look around the room and have to acknowledge that it has become a shrine to him and I know he is right, but it is so hard to let go of all the things that remind me of him,
My dead son and I sit in silence
“I will allow you keep my slippers and my dressing gown because you know how much I loved getting into them when I came home”
I see he is becoming nostalgic and I take advantage of the change in his mood,
Reaching over, I open his swimming bag and take out his trunks and wetsuit,
I look into his eyes and he reaches to hold them, memories of Dingle, Wexford and the Pool in Clane flooding through him too,
He reluctantly lets go of them and agrees that I can keep those too. I feel relieved,
Next he reaches into the bottom of the wardrobe where he finds his sneakers, the ones with the flashing lights built into the soles and I grab them from him,
“No not these, you loved them” I beg and plead.
“I have to go very soon Mam so please make this easy; Zara would think them childish if she saw them, can you not understand that?”
I hold the sneakers tight and fast in my hand, becoming stubborn and unyielding,
“Don’t you see that I am trying to help you Mam and that it is not all about me”? He beseeches me to hand over the sneakers, their lights flashing on and off now as they are jostled about,
“My time is up Mam, I have to go, but if you can clear this room it will remove the block that prevents me from visiting you more often. Now hand over those sneakers please before it is too late”
I hold out and argue with him that one pair of sneakers won’t make a huge difference to his coming to see me, but I can already see the outline of his body is starting to blur and shimmer,
He is beginning to disappear in front of my eyes,
He holds out his hand for the sneakers but I resist,
With the last bit of energy left to him before he vanishes into thin air, and back to his far off galaxy, he shouts out,
“For God’s Sake Mam, I am Eighteen!”
I throw him the sneakers and he is gone. So too are all the clothes and things he had piled high all over the room,
Silence engulfs the room once more and I turn around to examine what has been left behind,
My tiny bundle sits on the ground behind me, but his wardrobe is empty save for the hangers that still sway back and forth,
I stare at the hangers, some of them bear store labels showing the age,
7-8 years, 8-10 years, 10-12 years,
I even find a few for 5-6 years,
I momentarily leave the room and return with a roll of black sacks,
Very quickly I begin to fill them with hangers and various bits and pieces that he never got time to get to,
Then I get the vacuum and give the room a good going over, inside the wardrobe too,
After I am finished, I sit on his bed settee holding his Husky Dog and Fungi, relieved he didn’t get as far as them,
I feel a weight lift off me as silent tears begin to fall,
I couldn’t have done it without his help,
Tomorrow, I will choose some new paint for his/this room and bring it back to life once more,
I feel stronger, even though I am exhausted from the experience,
My dead son came to visit me, my dead son eventually came to see me,
A grown young man, no longer the child who used to occupy this room,
Happy Eighteenth Birthday Conor