I’m hesitant to go into graveyards. Not because I’m fearful of meeting the dead – I encounter helpful spirit people every day in my work. But I’ve found that in places like funeral homes and graveyards, there are restless spirits who don’t want to go into the light. They aren’t evil or malevolent, they just seem confused. And then they that want to attach themselves to me. I used to wonder why this was so, until I recently read something that made me understand why cemeteries can be so active for spirit, and why some intuitive people experience sadness and feelings of being watched.
Last summer, my husband and I walked through St. Mark’s Anglican Church’s cemetery in Niagara-on-the-Lake. I love Canadian history, and the cemetery contains the remains of people who died in the War of 1812. Many of the moss-covered, slate-grey headstones have been made unreadable by the winds and rains of time, though if you try hard enough, you can read dates. It’s always sad to see the graves of youngsters who lived a few days, maybe even a few hours.
As I left the small patch of hallowed land, a sadness tugged at my stomach. On the drive back to Toronto, I thought that the grief I was feeling was due to reading about the children who had passed. Being the mother of two grown kids, I can understand the intense misery I’d feel if I were to lose a child. In those days, a child’s death was not uncommon.
But over the next few days, my melancholy didn’t lessen. In fact, it deepened. As I moved through the morning, going to my yoga class and then preparing to meet clients, I felt off. Little things would upset me: Why did it take so long for the water to boil for my tea? My afternoon client was three minutes late for her appointment, I thought. Why can’t people be more punctual?
Thankfully, the jitters vanished as my client arrived, but the moment she left I felt anxious again. These feelings aren’t me, I thought, then reached for the telephone and called my biofeedback practitioner.
Briefly, biofeedback is a method of checking the health of your energy by scanning your aura. In a biofeedback session, you are “wired” to a device that reads your energetic self and then displays your aura on a screen. Blips in your energetic field may show up as dark or hazy spots, which the biofeedback practitioner then interprets. (Keep in mind: This is how my biofeedback specialist works; others do things differently.)
After a few minutes on the machine, my biofeedback technician clicked her tongue, gave a “hmmmm” or two, then said, “Something’s attached to you. I believe it’s a female. I don’t get a familial connection. You don’t know her. But she seems to want to know you. I’ll take her away.”
“No, wait a moment,” I said.
Intrigued, I centred myself and asked my guides to help me contact this spirit person. I visualized a young woman in a wedding dress and a veil. I felt that during the war, she had worked as a nurse at St. Mark’s – the church was used as a hospital during that time – and had fallen in love with a soldier she was tending. He regained his health and before he left to rejoin his regiment, he promised to marry her. He never returned. The nurse grew morose, and died of a broken heart. She followed me out of the cemetery, she told me, because she sensed my light, and wondered if I could help her find her soldier.
“Go ahead,” I told my practitioner, who adjusted a few settings on her device. I watched the screen, and the hazy blob over my right shoulder melted away. I said a silent prayer, hoping the woman’s spirit would find peace by going into the light to find her soldier there.
A few days ago, I was reading a book of teachings by Silver Birch, a Native spirit guide channelled by Maurice Barbanell. Silver Birch had an astounding comment about some Spiritualists who had been able to help a number of spirit beings who said they had been living in cemeteries. The spirits were waiting alongside their bodies for the Judgement Day.
“For practically their whole earthly lives they have moulded the thought form that, when the body dies, they will wait until the Angel Gabriel sounds his trumpet,” Birch says. As long as they refuse to acknowledge that they can enter the light without their bodies, no one can make them believe it. “So they wait for the Resurrection, and stay there,” Silver Birch adds.
Now, before I enter a cemetery, I’ll say a prayer of protection. I did that when I accompanied my husband as we visited his parents’ graves. That cemetery also had a Holocaust memorial, a tall black obelisk ringed by a waist-high granite wall that was inscribed with the names of people who’d died in concentration camps during World War II. There was no interment there, only names. Small stones dotted the top of the wall: people paying their respects to memories of the departed. The memorial made me so sad, I almost wept. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the presence of spirits, or people who visited the shrine and left their sadness. After all, it’s not just spirit people who can leave their energy in an environment.
If you have any questions or comments on this subject or on any other spiritual matter, feel free to write me at mail @ carolynmolnar.com. And please visit me again!