Sam Albion
akaFrancisKing:ViveLeRoi!
I have visited mediums who do platform work in spiritualist churches, and I have also been a guest at various moots and psychic events where people state they communicate with the dead.
I have found that yes, while some are using good salemen techniques; playing the odds, telling people what they want to hear, starting off with generalities and closing down the crowd to pick individual subjects, and while some people are deluded and as psychic as a sack of potatoes, however earnest their demeanour, I do believe some platform workers DO have some psychic ability; I have occasionally seen their ghosts with my own eyes (and quite rare it is, for me, to see), but I think usually, when it does happen, there isn't an actual "connection to the dead"; they're "reading the congregation" and picking up information from the congregants, rather than any dead people. There's a difference, I think, between telepathic comunication with the living, and with the dead.
And yes, I am aware that "telepathy" seems just as fallacious as "mediumship"...
I have, in my time, also comunicated with the dead, and the dying, but I have not been a platform worker, and nor have I ever held myself up as a great psychic guru. I'm an average type of psychic; I get... maybe five or six verifiable experiences a year. They're not all about "dead people", and even when I have dead people experiences, I don't actualy see dead people; I very rarely "see" anything; for me, it's about.... connecting to "something", feeling an energy transfer, a tingling in the body, a sense of derealisation, and then... images in my mind, or I "think words" -- sentences appear in my consciousness, not like... hearing voices, as such, but more a... thinking of shapes... I feel like I am hearing/having conversation, but I am not hearing/speaking in the ... mouth/voice/ears kind of way. More of a ... sensing ... of thought.
...a fair few people in my family believe in a person's ability to see and communicate with the dead, and several people in my family relate experiences of their communications with people who are "on the other side". They are usually personal, and involve other family members. This "ability" of "ours" seems pronounced when people are due to die, and during wakes, where the dead ... invade... the living... and pass on messages, and say final words. We even report tales of faces changing, people exclaiming "and Tracy looked just like Johnny, and we couldn't believe how she was calling us all arsholes, just like Johhny did when he was alive"... I have done this at a wake too -- passed on messages, told tales, drank like a fish and... "became" a dead person. I, myself, became... lost. Gone. Have no recollection of the incident. Perhaps it is just beer and grief, but... maybe it isn't.
I always try to investigate these experiences, and sometimes, my investigations come to nothing, I find no evidence to support my theories, and I find that sometimes I "see" things that are later revealed to be untrue. I can accept that. I also learn from it. Hopefully.
Culturally, it's acceptable for me to have these delusions, and they do not effect my quality of life.
I believe that some people have the ability to... do things the average Joe and Jane can't. I believe in "psychic powers", and I believe I have them myself. For me, it's not the centre of my world, I don't strive to develop it, and I allow it to rise and fall where it needs to. I don't force it, and I don't tell "real" people about it.
You should also know, I suppose, that I was told I was a witch as small child, and hated for it, and no doubt my life since then is coloured by that. I was also told that I was the devil, by priests, and mistrusted and maligned by my peers for passing on messages, given to me in dreams and by ghosts.
It is quite possible that I am deluded, of course.
My most recent experience of ... dead people... involves a family wedding. I was outside, smoking on the patio. And I felt like I was being watched, by... people. But not anyone at the party. I was standing under a large patio burner and became... worried about things catching fire. I felt that the hotel I was in was a holy place, and somehow I was doing wrong by dancing and drinking in it. I began to think about God, and monks. A monk, who belonged there, but who I could not see, laughed at me when I told him I too wanted to be a monk. He laughed that I was a woman. I told him... a buddhist monk. He said... what's a buddhist?" I found that amusing -- who the hell doesn't know what a buddhist is? I went inside, actively looking for the psychic person I was connected to and who was taking the mickey out of me, but... no cigar. I couldn't connect with anyone in the room.
I went home, endured my hangover, flipped open my laptop and researched the hotel. I found that, in the 1300's, the site had been a monastery devoted to a female saint who I had never heard of. The monastery had burnt down. Odd.
I feel that, here, I was ... communicating with the dead. I had no reason to... connect here. There was no message, no personal connection. But... I investigated, and I found out my fantasy/delusion had some basis in reality. I had never been to this hotel before, and neither had anyone I know. I had to do a lot of searching before I came up with any gold- it wasn't as if this saint had a million pages on the internet and I didn't even have their name. I had no connection with the monks, their church, or the saint, but, somehow, my delusion became reality, something based on hard evidence.
And that's how it is, for me. Its not like... TV, or film; big, dramatic, happens every few minutes... but, for me, it does happen...
I have found that yes, while some are using good salemen techniques; playing the odds, telling people what they want to hear, starting off with generalities and closing down the crowd to pick individual subjects, and while some people are deluded and as psychic as a sack of potatoes, however earnest their demeanour, I do believe some platform workers DO have some psychic ability; I have occasionally seen their ghosts with my own eyes (and quite rare it is, for me, to see), but I think usually, when it does happen, there isn't an actual "connection to the dead"; they're "reading the congregation" and picking up information from the congregants, rather than any dead people. There's a difference, I think, between telepathic comunication with the living, and with the dead.
And yes, I am aware that "telepathy" seems just as fallacious as "mediumship"...
I have, in my time, also comunicated with the dead, and the dying, but I have not been a platform worker, and nor have I ever held myself up as a great psychic guru. I'm an average type of psychic; I get... maybe five or six verifiable experiences a year. They're not all about "dead people", and even when I have dead people experiences, I don't actualy see dead people; I very rarely "see" anything; for me, it's about.... connecting to "something", feeling an energy transfer, a tingling in the body, a sense of derealisation, and then... images in my mind, or I "think words" -- sentences appear in my consciousness, not like... hearing voices, as such, but more a... thinking of shapes... I feel like I am hearing/having conversation, but I am not hearing/speaking in the ... mouth/voice/ears kind of way. More of a ... sensing ... of thought.
...a fair few people in my family believe in a person's ability to see and communicate with the dead, and several people in my family relate experiences of their communications with people who are "on the other side". They are usually personal, and involve other family members. This "ability" of "ours" seems pronounced when people are due to die, and during wakes, where the dead ... invade... the living... and pass on messages, and say final words. We even report tales of faces changing, people exclaiming "and Tracy looked just like Johnny, and we couldn't believe how she was calling us all arsholes, just like Johhny did when he was alive"... I have done this at a wake too -- passed on messages, told tales, drank like a fish and... "became" a dead person. I, myself, became... lost. Gone. Have no recollection of the incident. Perhaps it is just beer and grief, but... maybe it isn't.
I always try to investigate these experiences, and sometimes, my investigations come to nothing, I find no evidence to support my theories, and I find that sometimes I "see" things that are later revealed to be untrue. I can accept that. I also learn from it. Hopefully.
Culturally, it's acceptable for me to have these delusions, and they do not effect my quality of life.
I believe that some people have the ability to... do things the average Joe and Jane can't. I believe in "psychic powers", and I believe I have them myself. For me, it's not the centre of my world, I don't strive to develop it, and I allow it to rise and fall where it needs to. I don't force it, and I don't tell "real" people about it.
You should also know, I suppose, that I was told I was a witch as small child, and hated for it, and no doubt my life since then is coloured by that. I was also told that I was the devil, by priests, and mistrusted and maligned by my peers for passing on messages, given to me in dreams and by ghosts.
It is quite possible that I am deluded, of course.
My most recent experience of ... dead people... involves a family wedding. I was outside, smoking on the patio. And I felt like I was being watched, by... people. But not anyone at the party. I was standing under a large patio burner and became... worried about things catching fire. I felt that the hotel I was in was a holy place, and somehow I was doing wrong by dancing and drinking in it. I began to think about God, and monks. A monk, who belonged there, but who I could not see, laughed at me when I told him I too wanted to be a monk. He laughed that I was a woman. I told him... a buddhist monk. He said... what's a buddhist?" I found that amusing -- who the hell doesn't know what a buddhist is? I went inside, actively looking for the psychic person I was connected to and who was taking the mickey out of me, but... no cigar. I couldn't connect with anyone in the room.
I went home, endured my hangover, flipped open my laptop and researched the hotel. I found that, in the 1300's, the site had been a monastery devoted to a female saint who I had never heard of. The monastery had burnt down. Odd.
I feel that, here, I was ... communicating with the dead. I had no reason to... connect here. There was no message, no personal connection. But... I investigated, and I found out my fantasy/delusion had some basis in reality. I had never been to this hotel before, and neither had anyone I know. I had to do a lot of searching before I came up with any gold- it wasn't as if this saint had a million pages on the internet and I didn't even have their name. I had no connection with the monks, their church, or the saint, but, somehow, my delusion became reality, something based on hard evidence.
And that's how it is, for me. Its not like... TV, or film; big, dramatic, happens every few minutes... but, for me, it does happen...