Q: Hi Jennifer. How can someone, like that ghost you encountered from the 1700’s, still be HERE? Why don’t they find peace? Why are they stuck? —Christina, Houston
That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it.
(She’s referring to THIS experience if you haven’t yet read it.)
My encounter suggests poor Jose’s been stuck in some rocky, Mexican purgatory 300+ years. But that also supposes a linear timeline. (You can read more about the space/time problem here. )
Please remember Heather had a ghosty run-in that night, too.
What if the land was responsible for our mutual paranormal experience, and not a ghost?
(bear with me.)
Supposedly, we have several spiritual “hot spots” here on Earth:
Machu Picchu, Peru
Ayer’s Rock, Australia
Mount Sinai, Egypt
. . . to name a few.
I’ve not been to any of these places. And I’m not a fan of the word “vortex.” ( like, at all.) Makes me think of nutball New Agers and Bermuda Triangle enthusiasts. Still, their theories are somewhat provable by ley lines, plate tectonics, and magnetic fields (all real).
So maybe those locations– as well as the little pueblo we visited in Mexico– have some geomagnetic or spatial components that make the proverbial veil thinner there?
I don’t know enough to take a stance.
But I DO know many describe Sedona’s atmosphere the way I described Tepotzotlán’s: charged. I also know when I’m about to experience some serious ghost action the air around me crackles like polyester from a hot dryer.
Maybe I need to go to Sedona?
Q: Dear Jennifer, I read that when a person has Alzheimers and they pass, they are in such a confused state of mind that they don’t completely cross over. Do the deceased know how to cross over even though their minds are altered? Thank you for any answers you can help me with. — Vicki, Texas
I’m no brain expert. But really, who is. Even top neurologists admit limited understanding. What’s it, 10% comprehension or something silly like that?
I personally feel those suffering with Alzheimers already have one foot on the Other Side.
I witnessed it with my grandfather, his beloved essence evaporating one painful month at a time.
He stared past me like a stranger while I searched his once vibrant blue eyes.
Remember me, Paw Paw? It’s Jennifer. You used to carry me on your shoulders? Remember how we played in the pool? You drove me back and forth to cheerleader practice and brought dinner to play rehearsals? You drove us to Disney World, treated the world to dinner. You were our living Santa Claus, Paw Paw. Remember your great-granddaughter, Sophia? Isn’t she lovely? Paw Paw, are you in there?
One time, near the end, the fog cleared.
He looked at Sophia, then me.
“Well!” he smiled, some twinkle restoring in his Carolina Blue eyes. “She’s wonderful!” He looked at me with that wonder reserved for the elderly, curious where time went, his expression saying look how big she’s gotten!
Paw Paw opened his bear arms wide and she fell in.
But his eyes died before the hug finished.
I bit my lip so I didn’t cry.
At least he saw her. Really saw her. That one last time.
Did his brain allow him through those precious seconds?
Or did God.
And was that a gift for me?
Or for him.
I’m no doctor.
But I know in the physical body, the brain rules supreme. What happens after death is spiritual— therefore God’s–domain.
Human rules and vulnerabilities do not apply.
No way, no how are dementia patients bumping into each other in heaven, asking for directions. No. They are whole.
I love and miss you, Paw Paw. I hope your heaven is custom fitted with a recliner and football game, turned up extra loud.
Thanks for your question, Vicki. Hope this helps.
If YOU reading have a paranormal or metaphysical question, please send it to firstname.lastname@example.org. I’ll archive and answer as appropriate, when I can.
P.S. Has anyone been to one of those vortexy places listed up there and felt something unusual? Let me know!