Channeling with a Super Moon

Posted on March 23, 2011

Since I was in my early twenties, I have felt the influence of full moons while channeling. At a recent séance at the John F. Craig House in Cape May, the night of the super moon on March 19, the moon’s influence on my psychic abilities was never greater. Spirits of loved ones, trying to communicate from the Other Side, were constantly interrupted or cut off by the ghosts who had become hyper-stimulated by the moon’s proximity to the Earth. From this Medium’s point of view, it was like listening to three rock concerts all at once, only hearing noise instead of music. The ghosts were in full bloom that night, and they did not care in the least if they were jamming my frequencies.

I could feel the effects of the moon all day. I love a good full moon, but this one felt different. Throughout the day, I was seeing psychic flashes of people I did not know. The images popped into my head and out again before I realized what was happening. Since I would be conducting a séance that evening at the Craig House, with sixteen living guests attending, I assumed I was seeing dead relatives of some of the night’s participants. I had been doing some light channeling for the guests since I arrived on Friday afternoon, even though it was not a spirit channeling event. I was there to talk about and attempt to contact the ghosts, not channel people’s loved ones from the Other Side.

Everything started as usual. People’s dead relatives always manage to sneak through at a ghost event, even though they are Spirits from Heaven and not ghosts roaming around the building or neighborhood, I know these higher Spirits are trying to get messages through to their friends and families here. I usually allow them to come through. As we approached the Saturday night séance, however, the ghosts were not about to give up the show. They weren’t even going to share.

As I was leaving for dinner before the séance on Saturday night, I gazed across the street to see the super moon rising next to the tower of the Abbey, another Bed & Breakfast (pictured). Recalling the moon’s influence on channeling sessions of my youth, where strange energies would come through, I grew a bit apprehensive about the pending séance. In my book I am working on now, I chronicle my life growing up with psychic abilities. Some of my earliest channeling sessions were done at the homes of friends, and those sessions that were most memorable were conducted during a full moon. I was doing mostly automatic writing in my early channeling sessions, not like the trance channeling that I do today. I would never go into a trance in those early days. I was afraid of something taking over, and losing control of my own mind. Even though during trance channeling the Medium is still in control, I was very much afraid of the possible consequences and after effects. Now, all these years later, I was thinking about this big old moon and what it might do to my little old séance.

We gathered in the Craig House parlor at 10 PM. The lights were extinguished one by one, with only the fireplace remaining lit for illumination. The room was warm and cozy. I sent out the call for the ghosts to come. I invited the ghosts of the house or the ghosts of the neighborhood to join us and communicate. The invitation was accepted quickly. A child named Tommy, long dead, is a frequent visitor to our Craig House séances. He gravitates toward women who remind him of his mother. He apparently died under the age of ten, and is connected with another building or place in town. Craig House owners Barbara and Chip Masemore have a large collection of vintage toys on display throughout the house, and I think this is what draws in this youthful spirit. Tommy is playful, but lonely. He has also been known to follow people to their rooms and even in one case, home.

This time, the ghost of young Tommy brought a few friends, and that’s when things really got interesting. I sensed the ghost of a young girl next. An even younger child, a small boy of about four or five who was wearing only a towel around his waist, soon followed her. This tiny ghost showed me the image of a large iron bathtub, and how he was left unattended in the tub. He let me sense how he grew fearful of being left alone and attempted to climb out. Ghosts can imprint their feelings and emotions on the living. This is one way in which they can communicate. Apparently, the boy could not get over the high walls of the tub and slipped, falling and knocking himself unconscious, face down in the water. He drowned.

A ghost’s residual image appears in my mind in the way he or she looked at the time of death. This is how ghosts remember themselves, and those memories are projected to anyone intuitive enough to catch them. The young boy, who did not give us a name, appeared in my mind, as he would have looked when he wrapped a towel around himself to climb out of the bath. He looked pale and thin, but he seemed happy to be with us. Many ghosts of children suffer from loneliness.

There are scores of children’s ghosts in Cape May, orphaned from their families by death and left behind by the seaside. These three ghosts had taken to each other for companionship. I don’t think they were related. They met in the afterlife and were now each other’s family. The little girl spoke next.

The girl’s ghost was more interested in a doll she was carrying. I could see her in my mind, stroking the doll’s hair and showing off the doll to the living in the room, even though they could not see her. She added a disturbing note to her visit. She and the doll had gone to sleep together, for a long time. She told me when she had crawled up and out of her bed, she saw a stone with her parents’ names on it. It scared her and she ran away. She was referring to their graves. I am not quite sure why a ghost would allow itself to be buried with its body, but there is a lot we do not understand about the afterlife. Maybe some ghosts are hoping for a reunification with their physical bodies, clinging to them even as they go down into the ground.

The rear section of the room started to drop in temperature. People toward the front of the room were unaffected, but those of us nearest the porch full of old toys were freezing. It is unknown why ghosts can make us feel cold. Some ghosts create a mild cold spot that floats around the room, while others can create a more intense temperature drop.  These kids could have started their own air conditioning and refrigeration business.

At one point, the air in front of my face felt like I was walking outside on a cold winter night. I was expecting to see my breath in front of me. It was the coldest cold spot I have ever experienced, and we were next to a raging fireplace!

Adult ghosts started to fill the room. A woman who identified herself as Abigail Hughes came through a wall near the front window. I could see her large dress, and that she seemed like an older woman, but she hardly spoke. There once was a person by that name who lived in a nearby house on Hughes Street, one block over. Next arrived a doctor from another house on the block. The ghostly doctor quipped he was there to “make sure we were all still alive” or else he would have to “ask us to come with him.” Luckily, we all were still breathing. We were cold, but still alive. No trips to the dead doctor’s office for any of us.

During this parade of the dead, the room took on a fun house feeling. The energies were all over the place and I had a difficult time focusing on one ghost over the other. I would occasionally feel someone’s relative trying to get through, and some managed to make it, but the ghosts pushed them right back out. No one was going to rain on their parade, living or dead. The super moon was shining down on the house now, and illuminating the windows from the outside. An Irish woman, possibly a servant who had come through before in my channelings sessions, moved in on me. Her energy was friendly, but she needed to speak. She was almost desperate to do so. I felt myself slipping back into the chair. Relaxing and connecting to her energy. I slipped into a light trance and let her speak. Even she had difficulty getting a message across. The energy was convoluted. As soon as she established a clear line, one of the ghostly children present through their own energy at me and attempted to take over my vocal chords. I finally had to stop the trance channeling all together. It was a mess. One after another, ghosts were psychically announcing themselves. Usually ghosts arrive in an orderly fashion at these séances, in a slow stream of visitations throughout the evening. Sometimes they do not come at all. During the super moon séance,  they were not just announcing their arrival they were screaming it, and throwing their calling cards at my mind all night. My psychic circuits were sizzling. It was overload.

It would have been OK if I could have identified all the ghosts and got them each to say something. That would have been interesting at least. My séance was turning into a mosh pit for the dead, and I was being tossed right in with them.

In one final show, some of the adult ghosts, carrying suitcases, made sure I saw their parade up the stairs to the guest rooms. It was as if they were trying to spook us, telling the house guests they would all be spending the night—in the same beds with the ghosts. For the record, there were no reports the next morning of any major paranormal activity during the night. I think this was simply a ploy by the ghosts to get our attention and have some fun at our expense.  When the adult ghosts left, a few Spirits were able to come through— finally. The ghostly children were not so quick to leave. They appeared to like the attention. A few times, I felt something touch the hair on the top of my head. Several others experienced being tapped or touched. Ghosts of children will act like children and this was probably just playful interaction with the crowd. The cold and the physical sensations were very strong however, some of the strongest I have experienced.

By the time midnight arrived, the children had left and a few last Spirits were trying to get through to the sleepy crowd at the Craig House. I felt like I had been standing in the middle of Times Square in New York City directing traffic all night. We wanted ghosts—we got ghosts. I stood up from the comfortable chair by the fireplace and wondered if I should wear a seat belt next time.

Whether it was the super moon’s energy affecting the séance, I cannot say for sure. I guess if the moon can move oceans, it can charge up ghosts as well. I have investigated houses during a full moon and never had this kind of experience. It was a first—and a last. For the next super moon in Cape May, I am going to forget about ghosts, have a barbecue—and only invite the living. This Medium is done being a lunatic.

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