Doug Dillon's Blog, page 76

Animals in the Afterlife?

Is there an animal afterlife? My experience says yes.

I find that paranormal events aren’t always recognized as such at the time. For me, odd or strange events only get defined as paranormal after further thought and investigation. This happened a number of years ago when I saw something in the road on my way to work.

Way back then, I was teaching at Ocoee Middle School in the western part of Orange County, FL. To get there, I had to take a country road. Beautiful drive in the early morning. So much nicer than fighting I-4 traffic going into and out of Orlando on a daily basis.

On this particular day, about half way to school, the road ahead stretched out into the surrounding light mist but wasn’t obstructed by it. Quite a distance ahead, something flickered ever so slightly. It seemed to be a small flashing of light on the road itself. At first, I thought I was imagining it because the thing was so small.

I blinked my eyes a couple of times but whatever it was didn’t go away. In fact, it got larger and more distinct the further I drove. Then at about 100 feet away, it looked like a shimmering, flickering spark about a foot or two high and maybe six to eight inches wide. Astounded, I lifted my foot off the accelerator. As soon as I did, the spark vanished. In it’s place, I could see a dead animal. When I got there, I saw that it was a large raccoon. No sign of the spark.

Weird, right? But I didn’t have time to dally and figure it out. School awaited so off I went.

That evening though, I shared my experience with my wife Barbara. Intrigued, she offered to do some channeling and see if we could get an explanation. Our book on the paranormal, An Explosion of Being, had just been published and Barb was still channeling from what we had come to call, The Source.

In this instance, The Source said the raccoon had been so freshly killed that its spirit had not yet adjusted to its death. The essence of the creature was simply hanging around the body trying to figure out what happened. I had read stories about such things happening to humans but it never occurred to me animals might have similar experiences.

That’s it. End of story except to share two Youtube videos with you. I share these for two reasons. One reason is show how animals can actually grieve. Sometimes I think we humans think we are the only ones with such emotions. The other reason is that when I watch these videos, it makes me think that just possibly a freshly killed animal might well react to its own death in a similar manner. Just food for thought. Here you go.

Click here for cat grief.

Click here for elephants in mourning.

If you are truly interested in paranormal phenomena, you might be interested in read my book, Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.  You can find it in most online bookstores. Listed below, however, are direct book links to some of the larger retail outlets in the English speaking world:

Amazon.com, Amazon Canada, Amazon UK, Amazon India, Amazon Australia, Barnes and Noble, Kobo (Canada)

 

Poltergeists in Family Histories

A scary paranormal events made my aunt and uncle wonder.

I’m willing to bet that if most people talked with members of their families, they would come up with stories of all sorts of paranormal activity. I’m not just talking about immediate families, I’m talking about grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

In my case, my mom’s relatives were the ones who told such tales. For me, I found those stories so interesting because they came from people who never usually expressed an interest or even belief in such things.

Here’s a picture I took of Mom in St. Augustine with Matanzas Bay in the

background. I took her there before her death in 2007 to show her some of the locations I would be using in Book I of The St. Augustine Trilogy, Sliding Beneath the Surface. She was always fascinated by the paranormal

Her family all came from the New York City, Connecticut region. One summer when I was a teenager, we had a big family gathering and I got a chance to speak with one of her cousins and her husband. Both were involved with real estate and told a story about visiting a particular house they were trying to sell for some clients. It was nighttime and the owners were away.

The place was dark and they approached using flashlights. But just as they got to the front door, noises exploded from inside the house. Frightened and thinking vandals must be inside, they rushed back towards their car. They told me it sounded like a group of people was destroying everything they could find. As quickly as it started though, all those noises stopped.

After waiting a few minutes, they crept back up to house. No more sounds, and in fact, looking through the windows with their flashlights, they couldn’t see any damage. Thinking that rather odd, they decided to go in and look around. Pretty brave if you ask me, but they did it. Once inside, they found no damage whatsoever and nothing out of place. That frightened them even more than the sounds themselves and they had no explanation for what happened. Now we would probably identify such an experience as poltergeists.

So, the next time you have any kind of family gathering or reunion, ask people about their strange experiences. You might be very surprised with who comes up with some very weird but interesting tales.

If you are truly interested in paranormal phenomena, you might be interested in read my book, Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.  You can find it in most online bookstores. Listed below, however, are direct book links to some of the larger retail outlets in the English speaking world:

Amazon.com, Amazon Canada, Amazon UK, Amazon India, Amazon Australia, Barnes and Noble, Kobo (Canada)

Did Carl Jung Believe in Haunted Places?

 

Carl Jung’s personal experiences in a very haunted location.

In the summer of 1920, Jung was invited to give a long series of lectures in London. To give these talks though, he had to find a place to stay. A friend finally located a lovely little cottage for an unusually cheap price and rented it for him.

During the time Jung lived at the cottage, the friend who found it for him occasionally visited overnight, as did others. Evidently, everyone enjoyed being there but Jung.

At the end of his first week of giving lectures, Jung went to bed around 11 PM. Tired but not actually very sleepy, he just lay there in bed. Seconds later, he found he wasn’t able to move. Not only that but the room seemed stuffy and some sort of bad smell filled the air.

Finally willing himself to get up, he lit a candle. Immediately the smell went away but he only slept after dawn broke.

That next night, the same things happened as before, while other people were staying with him —stuffiness in the room, hard for him to move and the bad smell. Added to all that, however, was a constant dripping sound—one drip every two seconds, according to Jung. He thought the roof must be leaking.

Again, willing himself to get out of bed, he lit a candle and searched for the leak. The dripping sound continued as he looked around.

The ceiling showed nothing so he followed the sound of the drips. When he located the exact spot where the noise came from on the floor, the sound stopped. The thing is, there was no water anywhere. That next morning he asked his guests if they slept well and they all said they had.

Unhappily for Jung, all the above phenomena happened the following night with more added. This time there were loud noises, like rustling, creaking and knocking. He also had the distinct sensation that a dog was running around his room. The poor man was only able to sleep at dawn when all the commotion came to a complete stop. Apparently, no one else in the house heard, smelled or felt any of this.

Very frustrated, Jung eventually spoke to one of the maids. He noticed that after serving dinner in the evening, they scurried out of the cottage very quickly and went home. When he asked them about their behavior, they said the place was haunted and they didn’t want to be there after dark. Evidently, everyone in the neighborhood knew this. That’s why the rent was so cheap, they told him.

Armed with this information, Jung shared it with the friend who rented the house for him. The friend only laughed.

Poor Jung. All of the phenomena continued and one night he turned over in bed to find himself looking at the partial face of an old woman lying next to him. That did it. He leaped out of bed and spent the rest of the night in a chair. After that, he moved to another room where he wasn’t bothered at all.

When he told his friend about moving, the friend laughed at him again. That caused Jung to challenge this man to stay in his, Jung’s, room overnight when no one else would be in the cottage. His friend agreed but decided that if there were ghosts, they could be anywhere in the house. So instead of sleeping where  Jung had, he stayed in the cottage’s main room. Interestingly enough, he brought a shotgun with him.

The friend set himself up as if camping and just as he was falling asleep, he heard something. It sounded like footsteps in a nearby hallway. Taking a candle with him, he looked but saw nothing. That made him so uncomfortable that he closed the door leading to that hallway.  But there was no key. Since he couldn’t lock the door, he shoved a chair up against it. That gives you a good look at the man’s state of mind. No doubt he kept his shotgun nearby. How he intended to use it on ghosts is unclear.

Just as he settled back down for the night, Jung’s friend once again heard footsteps in the hallway. This time they stopped just on the other side of the door. Seconds later, the chair he had put up against that door creaked as if someone were pushing it. Immediately, he jumped up, grabbed his camping equipment and spent the rest of the night in the garden where he slept undisturbed. Later when he spoke to Jung, he told him he would never stay another night in the cottage.

###

The blog post above, and the others like it, became so popular that I created a book using them as the basis for particular explorations of the paranormal. Titled, Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences, it combines the Jung material with supporting information from my own experiences and those of others.

If you are interested in reading that book, you can find it in most online bookstores. Listed below, however, are direct book links to some of the larger retail outlets in the English speaking world:

Amazon.com, Amazon Canada, Amazon UK, Amazon India, Amazon Australia, Barnes and Noble, Kobo (Canada)

 

Meditation Opens the Paranormal

Calm and relaxed. Getting ready for whatever the day brings.

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.

Ghosts, Coincidences, Premonitions and Meditation?

Calm and relaxed. Getting ready for whatever the day brings.

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.

Ghosts, Coincidences, Premonitions and MNeditation?

Calm and relaxed. Getting ready for whatever the day brings.

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.

A Haunting Meditation Retreat

Calm and relaxed. Getting ready for whatever the day brings.

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.

Meditation, Coincidences and Premonitions

Calm and relaxed. Getting ready for whatever the day brings.

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting encounters.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.

Meditation Dips into the Afterlife?

 

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy

A Paranormal Meditation Retreat

A quest for understanding dips into the unknown and plunges into haunting coincidences.

Even though I’ve been meditating for quite a number of years, I also attend meditation retreats periodically. They are a wonderful time to get away from it all, deepen my skills and learn more about myself than I could in any other way.

And although I have been studying and investigating the paranormal for a very long time, I never made a connection between meditation and “things that go bump in the night.” That all changed when I went on an extended retreat near Brooksville, Florida.

Florida is notoriously flat, but our retreat center turned out to be on one of the tallest hills in the state. A beautiful place, built in 1842, it was originally a plantation, now turned conference center. That location is one of the few in Florida where you can actually look down on a sunset.

The administrative offices were located in the manor house, behind which were smaller buildings, guest quarters, meeting space and, of course, a cafeteria. The rooms where we slept were comfortable and the wooded surroundings were wonderfully peaceful.

While driving to the retreat from my home near Orlando, I smiled at the fact that the manor house of the plantation was built right after the end of the Second Seminole War. Why? Because of a series of three circumstances that came together to form an interesting set of coincidences.

First of all, I had just completed the first novel of my young adult paranormal/historical series titled The St. Augustine Trilogy.

The book, Sliding Beneath the Surface, plunges two teenagers back in time, right into the middle of the horrific battle that began the conflict, a place not far from the retreat center. Every year there on the anniversary of the Dade Battle, as it is known, reenactors stage an incredibly accurate portrayal of what happened.

So for me, staying at a place built during the same era as the nearby battle as described in my book made for interesting speculation about how all three things could fit together so neatly. You see, long before that day, I had concluded, as had Carl Jung in his theory of synchonicity, that such coincidental events often point to something deeper in the nature of our existence.

But as interesting as the coming together of those three things were, I had a retreat to attend. And before long, I became thoroughly engrossed in my meditations. Engrossed, that is until one day everything changed.

It started after breakfast, two days into the retreat. After each meal, we were given a period of free time, and on that day,  I chose to take a leisurely walk around the grounds of the old plantation. My little jaunt started out on what had once been an old road with tall trees still on either side of it.

And as I studied my surroundings, I looked up at the trees all around me and noticed how each one of them had a lot of dead branches at the top. Immediately, I became afraid, worried that one of those branches could come crashing down and hit me or one of my companions.

Fear? The likelihood of being clobbered in that way was very low and I had walked under many such trees in my time. So why the apprehension? I asked myself, trying unsuccessfully to shake off that sensation.

Instead of giving in to such thoughts, I started wondering what the original owners of the surrounding plantation might think if they encountered such modern day intruders on their property. And true to my writer’s inclinations, I suddenly conjured up this vision of a man in period dress in front of me.

In my imagination, this gentleman and I then had an interesting conversation about the past Vs. the present. And at the end of that chat, the man said, “And remember. Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

What? Those words were so inconsistent with what was being said, that it totally blew my little day dream apart. My companion disappeared, and I continued walking, this time past the manor house in an area I hadn’t visited before.

But those words spoken by my imaginary friend still made me wonder. That whole conversation was just me talking to me in an imaginative way, right?

Yes, I was raised a Christian, but I had long ago found Christianity unable to fulfill my spiritual needs. In fact, my retreat was based on Buddhism. Why that quote from Jesus would suddenly popped into my head made no sense, but I let it go.

Looking to my left, I was surprised to find a small cemetery dating back to the early days of the plantation. Obviously, it was the final resting place of long forgotten family members, containing only five or six tombstones.

One of those stones lay flat on the ground. Attached to the top of it was a carved lamb. The inscribed dates showed that a child was buried there who died at the age of one year. And under the date were the words, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Okay then. That really made me think. In fact, it made me wonder if, when I was communicating with my imaginary companion, was I somehow tapping into something else?

Or, could it be . . . Nah, the guy couldn’t have had some sort of reality that I didn’t understand. Or could he? A ghost? No way.

Telling myself that I was l letting my writer’s creativity run away with itself because of the coincidental circumstances relating to the retreat location, I spent the rest of the day deeply immersed in meditation.

Then came dinner. And after dinner, I decided to just sit on one of the many benches strategically set between our cafeteria and living quarters. It had been a good day, even though part of it was a bit weird.

And, of course, my mind went back to my fear of those tree branches, the encounter with my ghostly friend, and the inscription on that poor child’s tombstone. What a strange set of events, I thought, just as something huge and heavy crashed to the ground about ten feet to my left.

When I say huge and heavy, I’m not kidding. The impact made the ground shake and immediately, one of my meditation friends came running over wondering if I was OK. Together, we surveyed the large branch that had fallen out of a tree. If it had hit me, I might well have been killed.

Did I have a premonition? And if so, why? I mean, did looking up into those trees and thinking how a branch could fall somehow influence me to sit on that bench instead walking under the branch that actually fell? I don’t know, but it certainly is food for thought, as are those other happenings during my retreat.

Could my meditations have somehow opened me up to such occurrences? Was there some sort of residual energy in that historic location ready to connect with me just then because of that openness? Beats me. Maybe.

Since that retreat, I visited the same location multiple times but without another recurrence of similar events. What I learned through those experiences though, was not to so easily dismiss those things I might normally consider as imagination.

The Dade Battle reenactment .

Oh, one more thing. The day the retreat ended, I felt compelled to visit the little cemetery one more time. And when I got there, a car was parked very close to the tombstones. A license plate on the front of the car said, “Seminole Wars Foundation.”

End of story, but if you are interested in premonitions, coincidental events, ghosts, Carl Jung and synchonicity, you might want to take a look at the book on your left.

 

I wrote it because I am fascinated by not only Carl jung’s theories but also by his own paranormal experiences. And in studying all that I decided to combine what I had learned with my own experiences and those of others. That’s the package.

You can find the book on most large online bookstores, but below is the link to Amazon.com where you can see the reviews by those who have read it.

Carl Jung, Hauntings, and Paranormal Coincidences.

Sliding Beneath the Surface: Book I of the St. Augustine Trilogy.