Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side

by Barbara Parks

  The spirit activity escalated to the point that I knew it

  would be remiss of me not to investigate matters further. So

  with this thought in mind, I decided to hold an on-site séance.

  In addition to dowsing with the pendulum and my now stan-

  dard technique of table-tipping, I arranged for a lady named to Karen to record the evening’s proceedings on infrared camera.

  I had met Karen a few months earlier, when we both

  attended an investigation at the haunted Carinup Tavern. The

  tavern’s resident poltergeist had provided a spectacular display; banging on walls and pelting us with stones. His tirade was

  recorded by both television and infrared cameras; the latter providing further evidence of the poltergeist’s presence.

  Despite the ghost’s obvious antagonism towards us, he was

  surprisingly compliant when asked to show himself. He repeat-

  edly acquiesced to our requests to appear before us, although I suspect that his motivation was to intimidate rather than coop-erate. Regardless, his appearance on infrared proved to me that it was possible to physically record spirit energy, thereby validat-ing what I was seeing with my clairvoyant vision.

  Of course the infrared image was very different to what I was

  seeing clairvoyantly, since it was capturing the ghost’s energy imprint and converting it to an electronic signal. The poltergeist appeared on camera as a radiant, darting orb; as opposed to the Seance at the Clinic 145

  filmy, grey figure I saw before me. The location of the orb did however correspond to where I was seeing the figure, so as such I considered it to be a useful investigative tool.

  I arranged to conduct the séance on a Friday evening,

  a couple of hours after the last patient had left. Along with Karen, I invited three fans from my Facebook page; ladies who

  had expressed a desire to gain firsthand experience of the paranormal. I also invited one of my patients; a company director

  named Andrew. Andrew had asked to be included in my next

  investigation and I was happy for him to make up our group

  of six.

  It was decided that at any given time there would be one

  person filming proceedings digitally, whilst Karen took charge of the infrared. The remaining four would be the sitters as we tried to establish spirit contact.

  It was gratifying to see orbs on both infrared and digital

  cameras, exactly where the spirits presented themselves in my

  day-to-day work life. They congregated behind my treatment

  chair, occasionally darting across the room in an energetic display of barely-contained excitement.

  One dashed underneath the table, as if in preparation

  for the tipping which was about to take place. There was no

  doubt we had an eventful evening in store; the spirits seemed

  as excited as we were!

  I began with the usual protective rituals, after which the

  omnipresent little spirit girl was quick to step in. My sitters were amused to notice that when the spirit energy starting

  coming through, my hair began to stand on end. It looked as

  though I was surrounded by a halo of wispy flyaways; a look

  so ridiculous that the seriousness of proceedings was momen-

  tarily forgotten!

  146 Seance at the Clinic

  The little girl confirmed that she is with me every day

  and likes to watch me work. I asked her if she knew where

  her parents were; to which she responded NO. I then asked if she would like help to find them, but she insisted that she was happy to stay at the clinic with me. She told us that she had

  followed me from the Carinup tavern, and indeed I had been

  aware of a little ghost girl scurrying about the dining room

  prior to that evening’s séance.

  As happy as I was for the little girl to stay with me, I told

  her I didn’t think it was healthy for her to remain at my clinic.

  She deserved more attention than I could give. I asked if she would like me to arrange for someone to help her cross over

  into the light. Again she was quite adamant; the answer was

  NO.

  My little spirit friend then proceeded to shake and tip

  the table; she was obviously basking in the opportunity to

  physically express herself. We praised her lavishly before she stepped back.

  As I write this, it’s only been four days since our séance. I

  spent yesterday consulting at my clinic and as always, the spirit girl stood beside my treatment trolley and sporadically flashed her radiant, blue light.

  I told her that as welcome as she was to stay with me,

  that perhaps I could at least show her the light and she could decide from there. I told her I would arrange for someone to

  come and show her the way to cross over, but she didn’t have

  to go if she didn’t want to.

  The little girl didn’t give me any indication as to whether

  she was amenable to the idea, but I decided to arrange for

  someone who specialises in ghost rescue to come to the clinic

  regardless. I expect it was more than a little coincidental that Seance at the Clinic 147

  my friend Leni was raving about such a person just a few days

  earlier and had given me his card. According to Leni, Ravi is

  an incredibly gifted medium, the likes of whom she had never

  experienced in her seventy years. I felt that Ravi was the right person to call, if not to help cross the little girl cross over, to at least give me more insight as to who she was and why she had

  so steadfastly attached herself to me.

  Our Friday night séance also gave my spirit friend Gary a

  further opportunity to come through.

  As soon as the table was free, Gary stepped in and asserted

  himself with his usual sense of humour. I told my guests that

  Gary was probably one of the best table tippers I’d ever met

  and to prepare to be impressed. He assured me he wouldn’t let

  me down.

  I really should’ve expected Gary to join us all along, since

  his father, Steve had been the last patient of the day. Gary

  must’ve gotten wind of my impending séance and decided to

  hang around.

  Once he identified himself, Gary couldn’t wait to start

  moving the table. He began by systematically tipping it

  towards the ladies, ensuring that his attentions were shared

  equally amongst them.

  “What about poor Andrew?” I asked. “Why don’t you tip

  the table towards him?”

  The table kept moving steadily, but it simply wouldn’t tip

  towards Andrew. The more we asked for Gary to do so, the

  more steadfastly he tipped it the other way.

  “Awww, Come on mate!” implored Andrew light-heartedly.

  “How about sending a bit of love this way?”

  “How about it?” I asked Gary. “Is Andrew going to get any

  attention or not?”

  148 Seance at the Clinic

  A moment later, the table legs began to scrape across the

  tiles, and in one swift motion it had slid across the floor directly towards Andrew. It wedged itself between his legs, after which it tipped straight into his lap.

  Andrew laughed as he thanked Gary for the attention, and

  moved his chair backwards to release himself. Without hesi-

  tation the table skidded towards him once again, and tipped

  itself straight back into Andrew’s lap. By now we were all

  laughing. It seemed our amusement was egging Gary on. Each

  time Andrew moved away from the table, it skidded acros
s the

  floor tiles and into his lap once again.

  By the time we decided to finish proceedings, we were all

  feeling elated albeit drained. Interactions such as we experi-

  enced that evening are reminders that death is hardly the great divide we sometimes imagine it to be. Spirits are very much like ourselves, with the same sense of joyousness and humour. Physical death doesn’t alter the true essence of the person; the spark which is the true self invariably remains the same.

  Death can be likened to trading in an old and run-down car

  for a new one. The soul’s vehicle has simply been upgraded to

  a higher vibrational, superior model; but the driver remains the same. Although going by my interactions with spirits like Gary, I suspect many of the “drivers” feel much happier in their new cars!

  chapter nineteen

  S h i r l e y ’ s F u n e r a l

  There is no doubt that funerals are amongst life’s saddest

  events. But imagine if there was some joy to be gleaned from

  the loss, if there was hope amongst the heartache …

  Shirley’s death from a sudden heart attack came as a great

  shock. Despite being eighty two years of age, Shirley was as

  bright and engaging as ever, and seemed to be enjoying the best of health.

  Only two days earlier, her daughter Kelly and I were extol-

  ling Shirley’s vast list of virtues, as well as laughing at her lifelong obsession with going to the movies. Shirley was a cinema

  stalwart; not a week went by without her seeing at least two

  of the latest movies. Her family joked that she was Greater Union’s best customer, and probably suspected it was likely to be true.

  149

  150 Shirley’s Funeral

  The cinema-loving, international traveller,

  Shirley; pictured with her daughter, Kelly.

  As well as being my dear friend, Kelly’s mother, Shirley

  was also one of my patients. As such we grew close over the

  course of several years. I never tired of hearing her reviews of the latest films. Shirley kept every ticket stub and wrote notes on each and every movie she ever attended. I imagine this

  went some way towards keeping her mental faculties remark-

  ably intact.

  Shirley made sure she saw every new movie regardless of

  genre; dramas, cartoons, comedies and horror flicks, she was

  an authority on them all.

  “What about the Paranormal Activity movies?” I asked her.

  “Surely you haven’t been to see those?”

  “Of course I have!” she laughed.

  I was incredulous, as despite my real-life experiences with

  the other-side, the Hollywood depiction of hauntings easily

  left me terrified.

  “And …?” I asked. “What did you think of them?”

  “They were weak,” said Shirley. “Didn’t scare me one bit!”

  Shirley’s Funeral 151

  I was relaying this conversation to Kelly on the weekend of

  Shirley’s passing, as we sat up chatting after dinner. Never for a moment did we imagine that less than forty eight hours later,

  Shirley would be dead.

  As far as the family could make out, Shirley had made her-

  self a hot chocolate and settled into her armchair to watch a movie. She must have collapsed shortly after, as when her son, Mark found her, her hot chocolate was still warm.

  Shirley’s family were distraught, unable to comprehend the

  suddenness of her passing. The numerous eulogies at Shirley’s

  funeral attested to how very adored she was. Her grandson,

  Kiran even composed a song for her, the performance of which

  was a highlight of the service. He valiantly made it through

  each and every verse; his voice wavering with tears and emo-

  tion. We all sobbed with him as the song soared towards its end.

  I hadn’t attended a funeral for quite some time, and I won-

  dered whether my increased clairvoyance would reveal any

  insights that I would have otherwise missed. It didn’t take long for me to realise that this was to be my most eventful funeral yet.

  I became aware of the first apparition shortly after the ser-

  vice began, and it seemed to intensify as time went on. A small pair of gold wings hovered above Shirley’s casket, appearing intermittently for short 3-4 second bursts. All in all, they appeared half a dozen times, all the while glowing with their intense golden light.

  At first I thought that the wings belonged to Shirley, but

  reassessed this after seeing a Shirley-shaped bust appear on the blank video screen before me. Shirley seemed to be watching

  over the congregation, and I was later to discover that she was basking in the love and attention being shown to her.

  152 Shirley’s Funeral

  I later researched the meaning of psychically seeing gold

  wings and discovered that they symbolise spiritual wisdom and

  ascension. I wondered whether they belonged to an angelic

  being who had come along to help Shirley transition to the

  higher realms. Whatever they were or whoever they belonged

  to, seeing them gave me a wonderful sense of peace. I had no

  doubt that Shirley was being lovingly guided along her way.

  Once the video screen flicked on, Shirley’s silhouette dis-

  appeared. In its place, we were shown a photographic repre-

  sentation of Shirley’s life. From the old black and white photos of her childhood, to her most recent adventures travelling the world, significant moments on Shirley’s life played out on the screen before us.

  Shirley’s joyousness was evident in every single photo, but

  none more so than a shot of a laughing Shirley modelling a

  tight, unflattering beanie. Her hands are reaching towards the camera as she imitates a gangster-pose, a comical expression

  on her face. At this point, the entire congregation began laughing, upon which Shirley was quick to display her amusement

  herself. A large, brilliant light began flashing beside her casket.

  It was an intense and beautiful purple colour, which continued to flash until the laughter died down. Each time it pulsed, I felt an overwhelming pang of emotion in my chest. It was obvious

  that Shirley was thoroughly enjoying her send off, and it was

  comfort to know she was there.

  The privilege of my clairvoyant vision transformed a heart-

  rending, sad event into something magical. Although I was

  expectedly tear-stained and emotional as I left, a larger part of me was rejoicing at Shirley’s next great adventure. A more fitting song couldn’t have been chosen, as Queen’s “I want to Break Free” resonated through the chapel. Shirley had said her Shirley’s Funeral 153

  farewells and assured us she was fine, and now she was ready

  to move on. Shirley left us armed with her joyousness, love

  and a pair of gold wings … no doubt ready to embark on her

  most exciting journey yet.

  chapter twenty

  T h e I n t e r a c t i o n s

  o f O t h e r s

  Everyone seems to have a ghost story, or at least it sometimes feels that way. As time goes on it feels as though my own

  ghostly experiences are not as unique as I had first imagined

  them to be, and I can’t help but think that the spirit world is progressively weaving itself within the fibres of our own.

  My work as a podiatrist places me in contact with people

  from all walks of life, many of whom bring with them mat-

  ter-of-fact accounts of their own encounters with ghosts. They range from fleeting visitations to full-blown, protracted hauntings; both of which ad
d a richness to my workday as I share in these amazing stories.

  My work as an author also attracts the attentions of those

  who have had similar experiences to mine. I am frequently

  privy to the personal ghost stories of my readers, who are

  eager to share their experiences of the other side.

  155

  156 The Interactions of Others

  And of course, my friends often regale me with ghost sto-

  ries of their own, knowing that their often barely believable accounts will be received with an open mind. I have experienced the absurd and the unbelievable myself, so I can’t dis-

  miss the reality of these experiences in others.

  I’m often emailed photographs, where orbs and ghostly

  figures seem to populate the physical world in which we live.

  There is no end to the steady stream of material in support of the reality of the spirit world and its inhabitants. It seems that I have an endless supply of fodder to fuel my appetite for the paranormal, and this in itself fills me with a sense of wonder-ment and joy.

  It would be remiss of me to purely focus on my own expe-

  riences, when I have been fortunate enough to hear so many

  incredible stories from so many others. Below are some such

  accounts, which sneak into my headspace often when I least

  expect them …

  Iced Coffee

  Attending an interview at my daughter’s prospective school

  seemed like a fairly ordinary way to spend a Thursday morn-

  ing, until the spirit world wormed its way in to strip away the mundane.

  The school registrar methodically worked her way through

  the standard check-list of questions, until somehow the con-

  versation turned to three recent deaths in the school commu-

  nity. Along with two students’ parents, one of those who had

  passed away was the school bus-driver; a much loved larrikin

  named Eric. Eric had been an integral part of the school for

  fifteen years and his death had left both the staff and students devastated. As well as his generosity and devotion to the stu-The Interactions of Others 157

  dents, Eric was well known for his robust appearance and pas-

  sion for iced coffee.