One of the heroes of the X-Men in Marvel Comics is a genetically engineered warrior named Longshot. One of Longshot’s powers was the ability known as psychometrics. In the occult world, this is where a person can “read” the history of an object by touching it.
I think there are a few fictional stories where psychics have ascertained the identity of a killer by touching the knife used to stab his victims. In the filming of FOX’s television show PRISON BREAK, character Lincoln Burrow’s prison cell was the same real life cell occupied by noted American serial killer John Wayne Gacy. Some cast and crewmembers refused to enter the cell because of the energy within it.
And I do believe that certain objects can possess energies. Most can be associated negatively. But if there are situations with negative associations then there has to be situations with positive associations. There has to be.
I bring all of this up because I have been entrusted with a sacred duty. You see, today, I was passed the ashes of my mother.
Following her death, I did not see her body. I was given the opportunity but I refused. What I told myself is that it was simply an empty shell now. What was my mother was spirited off to a better place.
What I was handed today was a heavy urn with her ashes inside, carefully placed within a plastic bag. Yet, when I touch it, I can feel a certain energy. Perhaps it is something completely within my own mind. In theory, if this were to truly work, anyone who touches this urn should feel something. Unless one wants to argue that certain energy fields are perceptible to certain people. But that takes us down a whole other road. Maybe this is all in my head…
But what I do know is that within that urn are her last remains, the last evidence that she was physically in this world. And there was a sensation that ran through me when I held the urn for the first time. It was a sadness to be certain but not a sorrowful “I’m going to start crying” sadness.
It is her. But it is not her. It is. But it isn’t.
It’s weird. Even after all this time. It is weird.
I think the strangest things can spawn memories and feelings. I certainly did not think that when I woke up this morning, I would be writing a blog about my mom’s ashes. But that is life sometimes. Sometimes you have to allow yourself to become attuned to the energies that surround us. Maybe they can give you a link to your past. You just have to be ready to find those energies… and sometimes they pop up in times and places you don’t expect. Now, I’m not looking for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or anything. It was a profound enough moment for me to feel like I needed to talk about it here… So it was pretty strange and special at the same time, and that is what this blog is all about…
I think there are a few fictional stories where psychics have ascertained the identity of a killer by touching the knife used to stab his victims. In the filming of FOX’s television show PRISON BREAK, character Lincoln Burrow’s prison cell was the same real life cell occupied by noted American serial killer John Wayne Gacy. Some cast and crewmembers refused to enter the cell because of the energy within it.
And I do believe that certain objects can possess energies. Most can be associated negatively. But if there are situations with negative associations then there has to be situations with positive associations. There has to be.
I bring all of this up because I have been entrusted with a sacred duty. You see, today, I was passed the ashes of my mother.
Following her death, I did not see her body. I was given the opportunity but I refused. What I told myself is that it was simply an empty shell now. What was my mother was spirited off to a better place.
What I was handed today was a heavy urn with her ashes inside, carefully placed within a plastic bag. Yet, when I touch it, I can feel a certain energy. Perhaps it is something completely within my own mind. In theory, if this were to truly work, anyone who touches this urn should feel something. Unless one wants to argue that certain energy fields are perceptible to certain people. But that takes us down a whole other road. Maybe this is all in my head…
But what I do know is that within that urn are her last remains, the last evidence that she was physically in this world. And there was a sensation that ran through me when I held the urn for the first time. It was a sadness to be certain but not a sorrowful “I’m going to start crying” sadness.
It is her. But it is not her. It is. But it isn’t.
It’s weird. Even after all this time. It is weird.
I think the strangest things can spawn memories and feelings. I certainly did not think that when I woke up this morning, I would be writing a blog about my mom’s ashes. But that is life sometimes. Sometimes you have to allow yourself to become attuned to the energies that surround us. Maybe they can give you a link to your past. You just have to be ready to find those energies… and sometimes they pop up in times and places you don’t expect. Now, I’m not looking for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or anything. It was a profound enough moment for me to feel like I needed to talk about it here… So it was pretty strange and special at the same time, and that is what this blog is all about…
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Like Pascal's Wager... --it's a good Bet to stay in Contact...
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