I am a new thought practitioner. To me, new thought in a nutshell means that I believe God (source, universe, whatever you like to call it) is in everything and is everything. Thus, I believe that each person, place, thing, thought, feeling, etc. is an expression of the source energy which is an intelligent energy made of pure love. I absolutely do not believe that God is some guy hanging out in the clouds dispensing judgment, punishment, approval, etc. That’s just not my current understanding at all. It is not my understanding that God is a separate entity who made us. Rather, you, me, everyone, the dust on the floor, the air we breathe, every drop in the ocean and in every mud puddle, all of it is God. Everything is made of love energy as that’s what source is: pure love energy.
We are the eyes, ears and hands of source. We undertake explorations in the illusory plane of separate consciousness in order to experience what we experience for the web of consciousness so that all that is can be all that is.
I was not raised up in these beliefs. I was raised protestant: whatever kind was closest to the house, basically. When I was a young child in Southwest Virginia, I went to a Methodist church. Later, when we lived in Central Virginia, I was baptized and confirmed into the Episcopalian church. When I had children of my own, they were all baptized into the Episcopalian church, where I taught Sunday school and served as part of the church vestry. I left the Episcopalian church in 2013 and joined the Unity church, which I also left shortly thereafter. I engage in my spirituality, however, in every waking and sleeping moment. I am my spirit.
Throughout my life, until my consciousness shift occurred, I prayed every day. I felt weird if I didn’t pray. Prior to that time, I tried to quit praying, but I just couldn’t do it. What’s so funny about this is that upon my “awakening” I realized that I, in truth, had not believed in the afterlife. I think I prayed “just in case,” but at the moment I understood and accepted that we don’t die when we die, I also understood that in my core, prior to that moment, I thought we really just turned into worm food in the end and that was it. I did eventually quit praying because I found it unnecessary as I pretty much constantly remain in a state in which I feel connected to and have an ongoing conversation with the divine.
At the time of my awakening, I described myself as a happily married mother of three young children (4, 7 and 9 at the time), a scientist and attorney working as an environmental regulator for the Commonwealth of Virginia. On May 23rd of 2009, my family celebrated the 4th birthday of my youngest daughter and the 77th birthday of my mother. Two weeks later, on June 6th, I made a trip to the Washington, D.C. area to see Rita O’Hara, my dear friend from college whom I had not visited in over a decade.
While at Rita’s home, as I waited for her to check her emails and take a phone call, I picked up a library book from her coffee table. It was James Van Praagh’s newest book. As I looked over the table of contents I did not see much of interest, having spent the first 46 years, 2 months and 12 days of my life as an avowed skeptic of anything paranormal or UFO-related. However, the book contained a chapter on karma, and I am a believer in the golden rule. I began reading this chapter and found it interesting enough that I jotted down the name of the book so that I could check it out from my own library when I returned home. While I had not visited a library in many years, I thought it would be worth a visit to check out this book, especially since it was time for our annual beach trip and I would have time for pleasure reading.
At the library, meaning to pick up the Van Praagh book, I mistakenly pulled a book called “When Ghosts Speak” by Mary Ann Winkowski off of the shelf. I read a paragraph and thought it might be worth a try, but knew it was quite possible that I might not even crack it open before the due date. I checked out both books.
That Friday, June 12th, as I was packing for our trip, my 9 year old daughter flipped through the photograph section of Mary Ann Winkowski’s book. She showed me the pictures. They stopped me cold. The hair on my neck stood up.
At my youngest daughter’s birthday party, I had taken photographs. Sometimes, I’ll do a quick check to see how they look, but then it likely will be months before I bother to download the pictures onto my computer and often I don’t even bother to print any. At the party, I took several photos of the dining room, decorated with balloons and streamers at the doorways. At the time I took the pictures, I noticed a dark shadow in the lower left corner of a few of these shots and was upset because I thought my camera lens was broken and that I’d have to shell out for a new camera. However, as the day progressed, the picture cleared, so I forgot about it. I also happened to note, however, the extremely bright sun mote in front of the head of one of my children’s friends in one of the shots on the deck. I had never seen anything quite like that in any of the literally thousands of photos I have taken over the years. But, as I said, I thought it was a sun mote.
So, when I saw the “moving” dark shadow photos and the spirit orb photos in the Winkowski book, I realized I had similar images on my own camera and that I myself had taken those pictures. You can believe that I quit packing and immediately got my camera and sat there comparing my photographs to those in the book. I was in a state of disbelief. In fact, both that day and on a later day, I took more than a dozen additional photos at the same time of day, with the same lighting, from the same angles, to try to recreate the dark shadow in the corner of the photograph. I simply was unable to replicate it. Every time I took photos of that room, the whole shot came out crystal clear.
I was extremely freaked out. I called friends who I knew believed in the paranormal and asked for their advice. It was a very humbled person on my end of the call. I once had been very dismissive of their points of view, but by this point was grateful for their expertise. They told me to call in Archangel Michael and ask for his protection. I did as they advised. And what that turned into?
We left for the Outer Banks, and while I normally don’t like to read in the car, I read the Van Praag and Winkowski books the whole way down. That first night there (and for months afterward) I slept with every light in the room on. I was in the strangest state of fear and amazement.
Of course, the weird picture episode was by no means the end of it; rather, it was just the beginning. That night, as I lay awake very late engulfed in paranormal literature, I noticed something in my peripheral vision that was hard to describe. It was a sheet-like field of blue and white sparkles hanging in mid-air about the size of a king-sized pillow case, and then, in a room in which all the windows and glass doors were closed and no fan or AC was running, I distinctly felt a cool breeze across my left hand. I have since come to understand that was only he whom I had summoned letting me know he was there. Archangel Michael is an angel of blue light, and when I called, he came.
So, because of that book on my friend Rita’s coffee table, my life changed. Dramatically. It was no mistake that I pulled the Winkowski book off of the library shelf. It was time for me to wake up. Spirit can and does make anything and everything happen in divine right time.
Since that day, June 12, 2009, which I consider to be a birthday of sorts, I’ve become a much better person. When you truly understand that your consciousness, the core of who you are, is eternal, it changes everything. I began to live in my soul purpose in earnest from that time forward. Hence, I will be making music until the day I leave this incarnation. It’s what I came to do.
2 thoughts on “Rita and the Ghost Pictures”
Robyne, a beautiful essay. I remember that day at Rita’s. I’m not spiritual like you, and I don’t believe in destiny, but you’ve got me thinking Rita was pulling us all together for some reason. You were right that brilliant December day when you said science would explain it to us someday. Write more.
Thank you so much, Susan. Will do.