Return of the Missing Chopstick

Couple of weird little things in the past few days. Firstly: I've been seeing things out of the corners of my eyes. Nope, not floaters or migraines. I mean, I've been seeing, say, a brown car go by down the road, except in an odd spot, look again, and realize it isn't a car at all, and anyway, no car could possibly fit in that spot, or would need to be there in the first place. Just moments like that, random, but enough for me to say to myself out loud in the car the other day, when it happened yet again "I'm seeing things -- this is very weird!" Being who I am, none of this has worried me in any way, in fact, I take it as  a communication. From something, for some reason -- who, what, and why, to be determined. One reason I wasn't worried was that just before these little glimpses of whatevers, I had been thinking very heavily on the "ghost" -- more like a residual energy -- left behind in our house. Every now and then it seems to wake up. I've also had some interesting observations regarding my cats, particularly one of the cats. Maybe my focusing on these things had something to do with the activity.

Then the other morning I hear Jim calling to me from the kitchen. "There is NO WAY this happened!" he said. What he found was the missing chopstick. Years ago, a friend of ours made us two pair of wooden chopsticks. Simple, and elegant. And the best damn chopsticks I've ever used. They were just perfect. In every way. No other pair of chopsticks has come close to the two pair given to us by our friend. Then, somehow, I lost my pair. But Jim, the lucky bastard, had his. Until he lost one of the two chopsticks. We looked everywhere. For days. And every now and then for the past couple of years. But no chopstick. For sentimental reasons, he kept the one lone chopstick.

So the other morning, Jim is baffled by his find. The missing chopstick, wedged in between one of the plastic drawer thingies we have on a shelf, and the wall. Now, we most certainly would have seen that chopstick -- we use that drawer several times a day. There isn't any way we could not notice a chopstick -- the wondrous, magical chopstick -- wedged between the drawer and the wall of the cupboard.

And anyway, just why would a chopstick end up on a cupboard shelf, next to a drawer? Just one of those weird things.

Ghosts & Conspiracies - Shows - Coast to Coast AM

On the 24th, (Sunday) host George Knapp on C2C interviews Sean Stone:Ghosts and Conspiracies - Shows - Coast to Coast AM

Joining George Knapp, filmmaker and actor, Sean Stone, will discuss his experiences with shadowmen, demons, and ghosts along the eastern seaboard as documented in his film, Greystone Park. Sean will also talk about his role as co-host with Jesse Ventura on the TV series Conspiracy Theory.

Mrs. Mother: Past Lives, Moldavite

Bought a beautiful moldavite pendant on an ebay auction recently. The description said the item wouldn't arrive until around March 20th, but it arrived today, just as I was leaving the house to drive to the coast, a happy bit of timing for my birthday gift to myself.

Last night, I was hoping that the moldavite would arrive before I left. I was also working with Doreen Virtue's Angel Dreams oracle and developing my psychic skills. Specifically, working with spirit guides and energies.

Last night had the most vivid dream that was clearly a past life encounter:

With friends, including on-line friends and Fortean researchers, upstairs in a room that is painted a light blue color. We're here to watch a classic film -- European, subtitled. In the waking "real" world, there is no such film as this, but in the dream, it's understood this black and white movie is a classic. An "art house" type film, that all of us have seen at least three or four times in our lives. So here we are together, ready for a pleasant afternoon of watching this favorite classic movie. 

Just as the movie is starting, I wonder if I shouldn't call  my mother. My husband suggests I should as well. I hear my mother "calling" me - telepathically, she's telling me she's worried about me. I also see and hear my father (who is deceased) appearing to me, telling me I should call my mother. (In waking life this would be very strange indeed since my parents divorced when I was t I say "This is kind of silly, I'm an adult, I don't need to check in with my mother," but it's not about asking permission, it's about contacting her. I call her and she tells me she's relived to hear from me, she was just worried and wanted to know where i was.

Then the dream shifts. I'm about 9 years old, very precocious. It's the mid or late 1920s. I know we're somewhere in Western Europe, on a very large estate.  I'm with my mother -- only the woman isn't my mother in waking/real life. In fact, I call her something like "Mrs. M," or "Mrs. Mom," maybe Mrs. Mother. While that sounds formal, the feeling between us isn't. It's very loving and trusting. We're both dressed in woolen trench coats --mine is hwite -- and aviator goggles and hats. We're trying to fix our plane so we can take off. Escape, actually. For there is a man, connected to the military, in the second story window of the mansion on this property. He has a rifle, and he is aiming right at us. His only goal is to kill us. 

Both "Mrs. M" and I are working urgently, and of course we don't want to die. But at the same time, I'm resigned to the very likely possibility we might very well die. It is what it is. While I'd certainly prefer not to die, if I do, well, that's the way it needs to be. Mrs. M and I have a conversation as we're working on the plane. I ask her: 

"You're not my real mother, are you?"
"No, well, yes. This time, this third life around, I am. Here, on this earth. Don't you remember? We worked this out before you came here. Your other mothers had you, now, you're with me for this time."
"Oh, that's right." I say. "I remember now." I pause, then ask her, "You really do love me though, right?"
"Of course I do! Very much," and I believe her, absolutely.

The man in the window takes aim. He begins to pull the trigger. We look up, facing him. At that moment, a huge brilliant white orb of light comes flying down, between us and the man in the window. The orb blocks out the sun, and the brilliance of the light blinds the man. I hear an explosion; of the rifle, I"m not sure, of the ball of light, certainly, and I find myself tumbling though space. 

This is what one site says about one of Moldavite's properties:

Moldavite is an excellent stone to use to assist in astral travel and in the communication with spirit guides. Moldavite also assists in past life regression and it can help you to see into the future. source

"The Moldavite Man" writes:

There are many benefits of this stone, and exposure to it, including, activating the dream state when worn while sleeping...