Sometimes its not always disembodied spirits that can haunt, or create drama in the psychic field. As an Empath, I could also pick up strong emotions in others, and feel the echoes of past trauma or emotionally charged exchanges in homes and around objects.
People who have very strong emotions are at times able to project those thoughts out into the universe to be picked up by the Empath. My experience with the “Opera Man” was one of these times when a person still physically on this earth was able to connect with me in a psychic – and negative way.
A group of friends and I went to visit a dear friend in another state. We were all looking forward to the getaway, having felt burnt out in our jobs, and in our personal lives as well. We were at a fork in the road of our lives, and didn’t even know it. All of us, at various stages in our careers, in various degrees of involvement in unhealthy relationships, we were taking a break together to further develop our friendships and trust in each other.
Lily was fairly new to our “group” having only worked with us all for about a year, and enjoying our monthly “diner’s nights” whenever she could. She seemed like a confident professional, with the soul of an injured bird. We could all tell Lily had had a rough life, although we weren’t sure of the details. She remained somewhat skittish, both reaching out for our friendship, and holding back from hurt she must have experienced before. Her coming with us on this trip was a huge step in trust and friendship, and we all wanted to make sure she had good times and many smiles while we were away.
After a short plane trip, and drive to our final destination, we all sat back and relaxed and caught up with our old friend. As usual, Lily mostly listened and absorbed, offering advice and information only when drawn out by one of the others.
As we chatted, my psychic journey was discussed. The group was split. Two friends believed and wanted to hear more as the weekend went on, the other two, Lily included, were more skeptical and uncertain as to what they believed I was really experiencing and feeling.
Finally, as the night grew old, we went to sleep in two rooms, Lily and Carol, the other skeptic in the living room, Myself, Mary and Kay in the bedroom. As I laid my head down and adjusted myself on the floor, I began to hear music.
“Do you guys here that?” I asked my roommates in the small bedroom.
“ Hear what?” Kay replied.
“ I hear opera music? You don’t hear the opera music?”
Kay laughed as Mary laid her head against the floor, trying to determine the origin of the noise. “ I don’t hear anything.” She declared.
As quickly as the words left her lips, the music I heard grew louder and I felt a weight pressing down upon me. “I think there is something wrong” I panted out, as I felt a pressure, a presence on me, trying to get inside.
Suddenly I felt chaos. I felt pressure, heard the music and felt a strong angry energy around me and on top of me. I felt as though I was being punished, or abused because I had done something wrong.
“What should we do?” Kay shouted.
“Help me, help me…” I stuttered as I madly began to practice the things I was taught about protection and the power of the white light.
Having just discussed these things with my friends, Kay and Mary immediately joined me in creating a dome of white light around us. Eventually the attack ended. I was afraid to sleep, but had asked for greater protection to get me through the night. Exhausted I fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of whispered voices in the living room. Kay was telling Lily and Carol what had happened the night before, about the opera music, and my attack.
Lily listened intently, quietly until Kay finished.
“You know, Michael didn’t want me to come on this trip.” She stated, talking about her live- in boyfriend. “He really didn’t want me to come.”
“He listens to Opera music, sometimes, when he is drunk, when he gets mad…” she continued quietly. “He listens to Opera music when he hits me.” She finally said.
An hour later, the five of us sat quietly, absorbing all the stories of abuse and fear that our new friend had finally felt safe enough to tell us about. She was planning on leaving Michael, but wasn’t sure how, and was afraid of him.
“Do you think that was him, last night, Diane?” Kay asked me later in the kitchen.
“It was him,” I replied, ”He knew she was with us, he must have been angry, and his anger is so powerful it can take form. We have to help her get away.”
Looking back, I am not sure if what I experienced was a form of astral projection (sending ones spirit out while remaining connected with ones body) from Michael, or a very strong Empathic connection, reading Lily’s own memories and fears. Whatever it was, it was powerful, had shape and energy, and made believers out of the women who experienced it that night.
Photo by Energetic Spirit flickr.com
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