Angel Visit, Ghost Sighting, Hobgoblin Chasing and Folklore Adventures

SPIRITUAL ENLIGHTENMENT, A MESSENGER ANGEL, DIVINE INTERVENTION, AND WHAT A WINDING PATH I'VE TAKEN FROM THERE TO HERE

DID MY ANGEL EXPERIENCE START ME ON A LONG AND WINDING TRAIL INTO THE PLEASANT REALM OF FOLKLORE?

     To start with, I want to make it clear that I do not think of myself as a medium or psychic. I have never conducted a seance, but I have played around with a Ouija Board, with dubious results. I don't go to church, and my mother told me frequently, that if, one day, I decided to attend, I should go, according to family leanings, to the United Church. I don't see ghosts every day, every month, or year, and in fact, I might have a five year hiatus, between what might be called paranormal events. I don't stake-out haunted houses, and I wouldn't participate in any session that, had at its purpose, the ridding of its resident spirits. The comments below are personal, and about as intimate as it can get without actually being the character of my own skin. Some won't agree, and assume I need a long rest in a quiet place. There are others, who will appreciate aspects of the story, and have had an unexplained event or two, they couldn't explain otherwise. A lot of folks just don't want to talk about encounters that might make them look foolish to friends and family. As for me, I got over the "feeling foolish" thing, after my first year of writing for the media. The opinions below are mine, and I feel comfortable admitting them. If you have a paranormal story to share, (not necessarily to publish)
please send me an email. You're not as alone with your story as you might think. For example, if you were to search "encounters with angels," online, you will be reading for about a month. There's a lot of fluff online, but a few come very close to my own experience with the angel-kind.
     It would be absurd (or would it), to suggest, at the risk of considerable ridicule, that I sense spectres and sundry other apparitions now, because I once, in a fever-enhanced dream as a child, had a visit from an angel. I will admit this fact, however, that my long-ago angel encounter, did enlighten me to a lot of other possibilities science has yet to successfully dissect, to a precise no-argument determination. It gave me reason, from early-on in life, to treat the paranormal as, well, being quite normal. I have also had the enlightenment, of a mere mortal, who has cheated death on six occasions, believe it or not, (including my illness that brought me closer to my heavenly reward); three in near-drowning misadventures, one serious car accident, while I wasn't wearing a seat-belt, and one other, when, after some heavy drinking, I vomited in my sleep, and nearly choked to death as a result of inhaling the fluid. After each near-miss, I vowed to smarten up, while I'm sure my Guardian Angel was biting her heavenly fingernails, at the reckless behavior of the human under her watch.
     I have also witnessed a significant amount of human suffering, during the years I was a reporter for the local press, attending accident and fire scenes, and locations of drownings, as well as crime scenes, prior to the bodies being removed or recovered. A reporter, working on a news story, shouldn't admit to seeing things that might be described as paranormal, but truth is, I never attended any site of a fatality, that I didn't feel brushed by departing spirits. I just ignored them, and focused my camera on the carnage, trying to frame a front pager for the next issue. There was one occasion, at a serious accident near Bracebridge, that I kept getting this sensation to look down, as if someone was trying to send me a message, and I guess, fearing that I might be standing in a pool of fuel, that might accidentally ignite, with all that was happening with the rescue attempt in front, I dropped the camera to my stomach, and when I glanced down at the road surface, I saw that blood was encircling the toes of both shoes. I remember thinking about it later that evening, and wondering whether the young lady in the car, who died before she could be cut from the wreckage, had reached out to me for recognition. I felt her presence that afternoon, and it had inspired an aura of peace and forgiveness, because the other driver had caused the accident, the result of suicide-by-collision. I hated going to these news events, but I didn't have a choice in the matter, as it was a requirement of my job. But in the middle of crisis, and horrific carnage, where death had occurred, or was imminent, there was a strange sensation of peace, as if the deceased wanted the living to know the suffering had passed, for the most severely injured. Maybe I needed my visit with an angel, to have this capability of perception, to find some solace amidst what could only be seen as horror unfolding. I didn't see ghosts at these same accident scenes, but I did feel the presence of the afterlife, but like describing what it was like to be in the close company of an angel, it is a sensory perception, a feeling that is heartfelt, and difficult to explain in a proportion that would make sense, especially in the scholarly sense of paranormal research. But keep in mind, this is minor league, to what has been witnessed by others, more sensitive to paranormal situations than me. Ghosts at accident scenes are frequently sighted, or sensed, by those trained to detect their subtleties. I just didn't say or write anything about what I experienced, or saw, because it wasn't hard news. If I had been reporting for a publication dealing with the paranormal, then I would have had some front pagers for sure.
     For the past several days, via this site, I've been re-visiting a time, and experience in my life, I have never quite understood. (You can archive back two days to catch up) When you have an unexpected meeting, with an angel messenger, it's something you don't forget moments after the event concludes. So many questions bounce-about in your mind, the first being, "Does this mean I've died?" And, "Did the angel come to tell me I'm about to die." The angel I dreamt about, during a lengthy illness, when I was about six years old, didn't say a word. Everything the angel messenger wanted to communicate to me, was done visually, in a most tranquilizing aura of contentment and compassion, in what I can only describe as a heavenly glow, with a background of what seems, in retrospect, to have been chorale music (the voices of angels), with the scent of what I assume, was heaven-sent to calm the young boy in the throes of a fevered sickness. Her white gown, and white wings visible over the angel's shoulders, her hands outstretched as if to beckon me closer, and a halo style illumination above what I believe was brown hair; and her face, her beautiful, merciful face that I could never forget. Her gaze upon me, compelled me to stare back at her, as I levitated in front of her, but in such a position that I was looking up to a level of about seven feet. She wasn't seen with wings unfolded, as if she was flying, but instead, appeared to be sitting, according to the visible posture from my angle. I couldn't move my fingers, feet, or turn my head, and there was no way I could run away, because my feet weren't even touching the floor. I would estimate, that I was about two feet off the floor, for the few moments she wavered in front. I had enough time in this dream, to ponder to myself, whether it was an illusion, a dream or was a strange actuality prevailing upon me, in a room I was familiar. The feeling was so beautiful and soothing to me, having had weeks of being violently ill, that I would have been content, if this had been a preamble welcoming to heaven. I remember it as a powerful electric sensation, and it was the first dream I had control of my sensory perception. I heard the music, smelled the incense, felt the chill of the angel presence, as if walking into a thick mist, and the clear sensation of not being able to move myself from her presence, knowing I was somehow being held up off the floor, in a sort of suspended animation. The peacefully inspirational light, exquisite as it enevloped the angel, connected with my spirit, immediately putting me at great ease, when the enormity of the situation should have given me a terrible fright. I was happy to be in this situation. I didn't want it to end, and offered no resistance to my angel messenger. But no words were spoken. Not one. It was all done through her facial expressions, half-smile and deep blue eyes, but I expect a heavenly telepathy was employed. I remember her eyes most of all. I have been looking, believe me, for the past 54 years, in an attempt, to one day before I expire, find someone sharing this mortal coil, who has the same facial features, and eyes of the angel-kind, who I met back on that fevered-night. I've found similar features, and shapes of faces, but nothing that would inspire me, as a keen witness, that an angel has been walking amongst us!
     I have been questing, admittedly in the most casual, gentle way, for all these years, since my liaison with the alleged angel, about what the visitation had actually meant to me in the emotional and spiritual sense. In the physical context, seeing as I'm still amongst the living, the angel may have been in attendance to inform me, in a most beautiful way, that I had some living yet to do; and possibly while doing so, I might consider passing the word, that angels do exist as does a heavenly reward. I haven't been very good at this part, although I preach about a lot of other stuff, a lot less relevant. In the emotional and spiritual sense, I believe the angel-kind did influence me in a positive way, but I wouldn't be able to explain it easily, or that it would make sense to readers. In another way, however, the early-life introduction to what is probably considered, at least beyond the obvious religious connotation, was an experience of the paranormal kind. I do believe, having had an angel experience, that did impact me profoundly, opened my mind to the paranormal, such that I have witnessed many apparitions in my life thus far, and have been getting messages from the so-called "other side," since childhood. Sometimes the appearance of a ghost, or having something happen of a paranormal quality, does bring with it a little fright temporarily, which for me is always very moderate; as I am certainly not scared of ghosts or the messages they might which to extend to us mere mortals. I suppose, being broken-in by an angel, opened my mind and invigorated my senses. Now being keen, based on past experiences, to connect with other things that, you might say, "go bump in the night!" I wasn't adverse whatsoever, to waking up at night, and finding the ghostly figure of a man standing in the doorway of my bedroom, or having my old, dearly departed friend, Dave Brown slap me on the back, hard, the night I finally finished the manuscript for his soon-to-be-released biography. Dave had been deceased, at that point, nearly two years. The pat on the back is what Dave signed-off with, every time he left Birch Hollow after a weekend visit. I've been thankful in fact, to have my horizon broadened in this fashion, and it has never imposed any disadvantage on me, especially as a writer, interested in such phenomenon as wandering spirits, and visiting angels. I credit all of these situations, starting with the my angel-dream, for opening my mind to the realm of not only the paranormal, and the supernatural, but to the role of the eager folklorist, making sure all these interactions are documented, and above all, respected; whether they are believed by the majority of readers, or not! And of course, to validate the folklore of history, as those writers of the past, like American author, Washington Irving, stalwartly and courageously recorded in their stories, such that they wouldn't be lost as the cultural essence, and human patina, for the appreciation of future generations.
    It might be wondered by readers, if ever once, following my angel-experience, as a child, I ever turned to a Bible for an explanation or guidance. Wouldn't that have been logical, and proportional, to having had such an intimate and providential experience, the memory everlasting? I can tell you, that while I do have a Bible, I have never thumped it in the way, as to seek out converts, to believe, as I do, in the existence of angels, because of my own divine encounter. I have a strong faith in God, and this was most definitely embedded deeply and spiritually, as a result of my visitation. With this confidence in the existence of heavenly reward, I have always felt comfortable moving on to other aspects of what I consider ethereal, and truths about the existence of the spirit-kind walking amongst the living. Believing in angels, and the afterlife, has also given me ample reason to validate ghosts and other entities of what can be considered of paranormal quantity and quality.
    Beside my chair, resting on the cupboard where Suzanne keeps her good dishes, and fine crystal goblets, for special occasions, I have my copy of Washington Irving's "Bracebridge Hall," on display, and a story-book edition of one of my favorite Irving stories, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," that I have read more than a hundred times, in the past decade. I side with the work of the good Mr. Irving, because of his respect for superstitions of the ages, folklore, paranormal anomalies, witches, hobgoblins, phantom ships, fairies, from the traditions, and antiquities, of our cultural identities. I have long found his studies, and enriched folktales, entirely reflective of my own perceptions of enchantments we feel, and often see, but either ignore or misunderstand for what they represent. Much of modern society today, has no time to search the woodlands to find fairie circles, imprinted on the forest floor, or to seek out other bandy-legged wee beasties that dwell in the moors and highlands of our region; when was the last time you spent family time hunting for hobgoblins, and looking under bridges for trolls, and running to the end of rainbows to find the pot of gold left for the enterprising leprechaun? All this lore, came to our region of the province, from the late 1850's, when settlement of the hinterland first began carving out the thick forests, of the former summer hunting grounds of the Alqonquins, of Canada's First Nations. Not only were there the lore and legends left by the indigenous peoples, but with the settlers of many European, old world cultures and religions, came the white man's folklore, transplanted from Scotland, Ireland, England, Iceland, Denmark, Germany, Norway, and Sweden, in the pioneering period of Muskoka. They brought their folklore, their stories of the paranormal, into the wilds of Canada. It has been, for long and long, my favorite time period to research and highlight, because like Washington Irving, I hate the thought of losing this cultural identity and mosaic, that existed in those years, which as been largely forgotten today, as having been important at all!
     When I delve further into the work of Washington Irving, it is with great sincerity, that I think of this author as a kindred spirit; his that has passed, and mine still clinging on to this mortal coil.