Two Other Senses

For the past few months, I've been relying less upon visual senses and more upon the other senses, especially sound and touch, to guide me. In part because I believe I am too reliant upon vision and therefore get too frustrated when I don't see something but also because I've noticed that my vision is starting to deteriorate. I need bifocals. It happens to a lot of men around my age and I shouldn't be alarmed or feel cause for concern. Yeah, but it's happening to me.
In any case, it raised my awareness of how I have been limiting myself to visual stimulation both physically and metaphysically. I decided that I would take steps to amend that and began to do a "slow blink" (blinking takes a fraction of a second, I started taking a second or so) and taking a moment to listen.
I noticed that I had been bombarded with auditory input but had just been ignoring it. That little voice in our heads that tells us things. Hokey Smokes! I was ignoring really good advice!
I also started verbalizing questions instead of just thinking them. My coworkers think I've completely lost my faculties. But I am hearing replies and it isn't me answering my own questions.
If Life gets so busy I cannot hear the things around, I just slow blink and refocus. It's amazing what I've been missing.
I have also learned that I have a pillow with really weird textures. I use it for my legs (my bed is uneven and this helps balance my spine) but it sometimes feels like there's something else in bed with me! No, just the pillow. More than once I've jumped out of bed or thrown my pillow across the room; in the middle of the night, one does not need one's heart rate to go from 60 to 600 in a millisecond.
I still am getting visual stimuli; but, now that I'm paying more attention to auditory and tactile input, I'm getting a broader spectrum of what's out there.
It's been an interesting journey.

Chinatown and Gold Coast

I wound up in Chinatown one afternoon. Something was calling me there and I wanted to browse a bit. I went to the shop I had in mind and was poking around here and there, trying to find what I had in mind. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw the owner hunched over the counter, counting inventory and someone browsing in the back of the store. I headed first for the giant Buddha statue then to the beads, making my way towards the back. I adjusted my bag so I wouldn't knock anything over and saw some figurines that caught my eye. As I perused them, I started looking down the aisle at the other items. I realized that there was no one else in the shop besides me and the owner. I glanced from side to side and there was simply no one. I can't describe the person very well but I would challenge anyone to describe someone they saw turn the aisle in the grocery store. It was like that. I picked up the figurine that caught my eye and left.
I later wandered around the Gold Coast and stumbled upon a slough off of Lake Michigan where the city just melted away. It was an oasis of tranquility amid the hectic hubbub. I spent a few minutes (or longer?) there and soaked up some awesomeness. When I got up to leave I noticed a very large black shape like a cloak or skate leap from a nearby building and disappear behind another building. I kept my eyes open but never saw it again.

It's Creepy in the Dark

I decided I needed a relaxing day at the spa. Which, for me, equates to going to the gym and spending the entire session in the wet area (sauna, steam, pool, jacuzzi). There were remarkably few people there to contend with and I was able to 'be alone'. Getting lost in the moment, I was looking forward to just relaxing and letting my mind and body rejuvenate.
I was startled by how many ghostly images were lurking there. I realize that ghosts are everywhere and it should come as no shock to have them so close by. But when trying to 'be alone', to gather my thoughts and wits, it was nonetheless unsettling to perceive a ghostly shape stand up next to you when you're 'alone' in the sauna, for example.
I grumble when someone opens the steam room door wide enough for two people to enter at once, then holds the door open longer than necessary. The nature of the steam is to escape to cooler temperatures. But more recently I shake my head not because of their ignorance of thermodynamics but because of their ignorance of the spirits around them. How do people not notice these things? I see them holding the door open longer than necessary; do they not realize that they're holding the door for a ghost?
And showering with spirits? Not as much fun as it sounds.

Eye Spy Two

There are trees lining the street outside my house. I walk to the transit, I walk to the grocery store, I walk just about everywhere. I'm always grateful for the trees outside; they provide ample shade and protection from the elements. I sometimes talk to them and touch them.
I turn and check the street for oncoming traffic as I cross; it's one-way so I always give one last check just to be sure someone hasn't pulled out suddenly. It's really nothing more than a glance, letting movement catch my eye more than detail.
1) I see a figure in the boughs of a tree to my left, hanging, visible from the waist down. There are shady figures turning and walking away from the scene, away from me. I stop to get a better view and the shadowy figures fade away. Lastly, the legs/waist just absorb into the tree. The whole encounter lasts about 5 seconds, which is much longer than you might think.
2) I see a figure leaning against a tree to my right, watching me. He's dressed in slacks and a casual shirt, more modern than archaic. His arms are crossed and he's just watching as I cross diagonally, watching him watch me. He has dark hair and eyes, olive/brown skin, and an athletic build. I turn away but something makes me want to get a second look? I turn back and he's gone. There's no one on the sidewalk, no one running away, no one within 50 yards of the tree.

Beads Me

I was holding a mala I had ordered online. While I gently rubbed the worked beads between my fingers, I idly wondered where the beads had come from and who had worked on them? My mind wandered and I envisioned a group of elderly men and some younger boys sitting around talking and laughing. One boy in particular is soon going to join his father as an adult. It's not fully automated and it's not fully hand-made, somewhere between the two.
A few moments later I wake from my vision, uncertain if I've seen the way things were when my mala was made or if it was something older still. Or, heck, if I've even had a vision worth mentioning?
That little voice that warns us when we're about to do something stupid is getting louder and I'm listening more than ever. It's saved me several times in the past few weeks. If this keeps up, I might just have a conscience worth listening too!

Now With Wings

After a difficult break-up, I settled into a new apartment behind the police station. Over the two years that I was there, I was startled to discover first hand just how many pests lived in the city, both the crawling kind and the human kind.
One thing that I could never explain was the white moth. There was only one and I watched it fly into my closet. Since I had a wool coat and a tuxedo in that closet and assumed it would go for those clothes first, I was concerned that the moth was going to ruin some expensive clothes. I dashed across the room and began a frantic search for the moth but never found it. My clothes suffered no damage.
My next apartment was a few blocks away and more cramped than I realized when I had looked at the place. I had problems arranging things there and began the process of purging, though I never got very far. I also was without A/C for the first time in my life during one of the hottest summers in the city. Sweating profusely with window fans and screen doors open for any fresh air or breeze that might happen by, I saw a white moth flutter around the room and disappear towards the closet. Again. I went in search but never found it and nothing appeared to be worse for the experience.
After that, I moved in with a friend in a completely different area of town. One afternoon, I was carrying my lunch from the kitchen towards the front room to watch TV when I saw a white moth fly into my bedroom headed for my closet. I set my lunch down and went to investigate but already suspected that I would find nothing. When I did not, I went back to lunch. I was learning not to be overly concerned about this creature.
Now, I have moved in with two of my former roommate's friends (he moved to another city). I have seen a white moth three times now, twice after moving in and once today.
I did not bother to see where it flew off to.

Travellers

I was restless, trying to sleep. There were so many things going on at one time and I was trying to let each train of thought come to a rest so that I could rest.
I was struck with a profound sense of danger. Instantly I was awake; but, I was pretending to be asleep. My heart was pounding, I was beginning to sweat, and I was plotting an escape.
I had heard two voices approaching rapidly, as if being carried on a fast stream. They were distant at first but they quickly arrived at their destination: my bedroom. And something about them radiated danger.
I recall one of them asking the other when I was going to wake up.
"Oh, he's awake. He's been listening this whole time."
I was busted, which did little to avert my growing sense of dread. I was certain that they were here for me, but to what end?
"If he's awake, then we should go. He's probably heard too much already."
"Can't I give some advice or reassurance?"
"No, you know that!! I think you've said too much as it is. He's bound to figure out who you, at least, are!"
"Hey, you in the bed, remember to... just... don't give up."
"Ok, that's it. We're leaving."
"What?! I don't think I revealed any great mysteries?"
Their voices were already fading away. My pulse slowed and I hopped out of bed and looked for some sign of the intruders but there was none.
Sleep was now impossible as my mind raced with the potential of what those men intended and what they cryptic message they had said could mean. I did, eventually, drift off to sleep. But it was restless and nearly dreamless.

In This Space

I was walking down the street, hunting and gathering (shopping for groceries), contemplating what it meant to be in the space: why am I here? The eternal question dogs man from generation to generation and the answers vary from person to person. It was something I needed to answer for myself.
I was in a few accidents as a child, one of which knocked me unconscious. I awoke to find paramedics, my parents, and a few neighbors hovering over me. I tried to sit up but hurt all over. The paramedics held me down so I didn't further injure myself but, honestly, they needn't have. I couldn't have even sat all the way up on my own. While recuperating in the local hospital, I had the thought, even at that age, that I had died and another me had entered the body to finish living out the life I should have. I noticed a change in my luck, a change in the way I was treated, and a change in the way I approached things. It would be glib to say the changes stemmed from my own fears after the accident. I can actually accept that, to a degree. We all change based on our experiences. I can only assert that there was a core change in me that appears to happen in life-or-death circumstances, the effects of which changed me beyond just the physical realm.
At that young age and into adulthood, I wondered I had experienced a realm-shift. That there was a Me who avoided the accident and lived a healthy and lucky life that I should have had. Instead, the accident shifted me to a less-lucky and less-healthy life. My Own Hell.
So, walking down the street, contemplating My Own Hell, I had the thought: everything here is mine. It's my Hell, after all? The words sprung to my lips without bidding: I am Thee and Thou art Me. Everyone here is me.
I had to stop my walk and look at the world again. Everything seemed to fluctuate between two-and three-dimensions. Something grounded my heart chakra in that moment, and the world seemed like its old self once again. But I had glimpsed, briefly, the veil between worlds.

The Cat Who Walked Through Walls

I went with a group of people to an event a while back. Actually, I went early to help set up. We were renting space from another group that had a large room with several smaller rooms to the side. I was one of the first persons in the building and noticed a house cat sitting in the hallway. It was smokey gray and was watching the door as we came in. When it saw us, it stood up and walked towards the smaller rooms then turned and headed down the hallway away from us; I got the impression that we were not what it expected to see. As it got to the last door, I realized that I could see through the cat just as it turned and trotted through the door. This happened just as I was about to alert my group that there was a cat inside the locked and otherwise empty building.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
In the past week I've noticed a lot of activity close to ground level in my apartment. About the right size, shape, and speed of a house cat. There is no cat in the apartment building.

Ghost of Christmas Presents

It's happened at that intersection before.
Walking home from the train, I stopped at an intersection to wait for my light. A gentleman I had passed on the way didn't stop, but there was no traffic to speak of. I suppose I could have crossed, too? I was in no hurry and was content to wait the 30 seconds or so it would take for the lights to change.
I looked North to estimate how much time it would take then looked back towards the West. The man was gone. None of the shops were open across the street. I did not hear a car door open and close. There are no residential doors there. He was just gone.
It's happened before, same intersection, roughly the same time of day. I don't know if it was the same man or not. I really should pay more attention to things like that, at least at that intersection.

Butchering Trees for Our Amusement

One year, my sister decided that we needed to not only have a real tree but go and cut it down ourselves. As was the custom at the time, people would bring the corpse of a pine tree indoors then adorn it with baubles and lighted strands of gaily colored globes and drape the whole thing in strips of metals designed to further catch and reflect the lights of the slowly rotting conifer. But I digress.
We made our way to a Tree Farm wherein acres of land had been set aside for the sole purpose of raising, trimming, training, and then butchering trees for our amusement. I was young enough to require special attention but allowed, on this occasion, to be loosened and let run free in search of the perfect specimen. In reality, I believe I was allowed to simply roam and keep out of the way of the real work to be done.
As I went through the neatly ordered "woods", I quickly became to realize that there were no other humans around me. I wondered if I could become lost or forgotten? And I saw the Perfect Tree. It was perfectly formed and shaped and seemed to stand out a bit from its neighbors. I approached with a weird buzzing in my ears. Gently reaching out and barely touching its needles I said, "I'm sorry we (humans) and cutting you (trees) down." Instantly, the haze around me lifted and I became aware of my sister calling out for me. I left and got in the car, the sweet aroma of a fresh kill filling the car with it's woodsy scent.
We got an artificial tree the next year.

Bah. Humbug.

As the shopping season gets into full swing, I am reminded of one special experience I had at the local shopping plaza-megaplex. I had grown disillusioned with life in general and the Holidays had only amplified my sullen mood. What had been brewing since Aug/Sep was about to come to a boil.
Mom convinced me to buy gifts for my family, something I had been putting off. It was Dec23 and I drove towards the local mall. I parked near the cinema entrance (I always got great parking there, even when blockbusters were playing) and walked in. The corridor from the entrance to the mall proper was desolate. I saw a few people walking toward the Sears but otherwise I didn't see anyone. I thought I might have lucked out and avoided shoppers altogether.
I couldn't have been more wrong. As I rounded the corner and started towards the middle of the mall, all I could see was a swarm of people. There was no way to get through the sea of flesh without having to touch someone which, at the time, made me nauseous.
I dug deep into my angry psyche. I imagined a cloak of hate, despair, futility, and death draped over my shoulders. I began my journey to gather knickknacks for the familial units.
What happened was a bit of a blur. I went from store to store with the roar of Hell in my ears. But, through the miasma of shoppers, something amazing happened. I walked through a pocket of space. No one got within a foot of me. Everyone else was jostled and some were battered & bruised. I walked comfortably and without incident. In fact, I was heading out the door before I realized that I had finished my shopping and made the trip without a scratch.
It was the first time in ~4 months that I smiled.

Gravestomp?

When I went to visit my parents and kin over the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I got Mom to take me to some of the cemeteries down there. She took me to the sites of some of my deceased relatives and we got to walk around a bit and look at some other plots.
The ground at one place was soft, like fresh turned soil. But it was like there everywhere we walked, not just in one spot. The cemetery was terraced on the side of a gently sloping hill and all I could think was that the rain was going to wash it all away one day.
I found some relatives that Mom had forgotten about (but Dad had remembered and confirmed later). There were some places we just couldn't get to that day. I wish I could go back and try again but, alas, I won't get back for many months.
I did happen to glance over at a tombstone just as some orbs manifested. This isn't the first time I've seen them with the naked eye but this time, the sun was still up. I might not have seen them if they didn't pass in front of a dark stone. I attempted to snap some pictures but nothing showed up, at least as far as I can tell. It's possible that I was too slow in getting the camera turned on, focused, and the picture taken to have captured them. Still, it was a very cool experience.

Ch-Ch-Change

Growing up, my primary mode of transportation was my own two legs. Whether walking, running, or biking, I tended to rely upon myself to get from place to place. My friend and I took turns going back and forth to each others' house, about a mile or so apart. I ran errands to the grocery store. I walked to rehearsals. Unless it was raining (and sometimes even then), I was on foot.
I noticed that the traffic lights were not functioning properly one day. There was a police officer manually changing the lights while workers were repairing the malfunction. I got to see the inside of a control box for the automatic traffic light switch. I started paying more and more attention to those boxes; if I could control them, I could bring traffic to a stand-still. mwahahaha! Or, I could make sure we had all green lights when traveling by car. Nifty!
I starting trying to figure out if I could, somehow, control them with my mind. I imagined that I was sending out 'pulses' with my mind, similar to Aquaman on the SuperFriends cartoons. By coaxing or commanding, eventually the light would change. In my mind's eye, I could see the switch moving and hear the characteristic chinks as the mechanism caused the light to change.
At first, I knew it was just coincidence. But I kept at it. Eventually, I began to suspect that I was actually changing the light. Then I knew I was.
Mom was driving us on errands one day. The traffic light we approached had just changed and a timer was involved; it would take approximately 3 minutes for the light to change again (she had timed it; she read that turning the car off for long lights could save on gas so she had timed several lights to see what the cost savings might be). Having just missed the light and knowing we were somewhat pressed for time, I concentrated and the light changed. Not only did it change for us but the whole process of the other light changing from green to yellow to red and our light changing from red to green went much faster than usual -- some cars squeeled as they braked, caught off guard by the sudden change.
Mom was shocked at the light that day. I sat in the passenger seat and looked at the cars caught in the intersection. I made a vow to only use my evil powers for good. Mostly.

On Expectations

I try to live my life without expectations. I have learned that want often leads to disappointment. If I can release the want, I can ease the disappointment.
For example, I can count on one hand the number of times I have celebrated my birthday ON my birthday. On becoming an adult, I can likewise count the number of Christmases my family celebrated on Christmas Day. I learned, eventually, to not fret the trivialities of the calendar. The danger, then, is that I do not have the same expectations for time/space as other people, namely my employer.
Getting stood up on a date, then, leads to disappointment not in being alone but in missing an opportunity to spend time with a (potential) friend. Being rather good at entertaining myself and not afraid to see a movie by myself or eat dinner alone, I am used to being on my own. Sometimes that's preferable; sometimes company is nice.
Sometimes the Loneliness Daemon tries to sink his teeth in; I can defend myself pretty well. On getting stood up, I have to determine if the person is honest when they belatedly apologize; an honest man deserves another chance.
Cutting the expectation lessens the disappointment. Sometimes people will misunderstand but that's something I will have to deal with. And not get disappointed by.

Do You Know Reiki?

I decided to go out to a local establishment that serves adult beverages one night. While wandering around, looking for someone I might know, I continually ran into the same person. Coincidence? He claimed it was. Despite this, we struck up a conversation.
Since working on my energies and managing the energies around me, I have become intently aware of the primary energies of those around me. His energy was like a feast for me. I had to be very careful not to completely drain him.
Well, I did a pretty good job of that but.. he was a little woozy. Since neither of us were drinking adult beverages, I figured I had taken the energy he was putting out there. So, I began to put some back. He sat upright and asked if I knew Reiki?
Now, I admit, I could have taken an online course (but haven't). Instead, all the energy work I have done gives me some insight to moving energy around. Putting (some of) his energy back was a piece of cake; that he could feel it, surprising. Most people are so clogged energetically that they wouldn't notice the flow of energy. He was aware of his energies, which lead to more talking.
He had seen me earlier and wanted to talk to me. He stated the energies of the people in bars tends to be an antithesis to him but I was different. Although he didn't intentionally track me, he kept finding me in a crowded bar. While refreshing to talk to someone who was sensitive to energies, I needed to leave. He was right about the massively clogged masses who go to bars and it was unpleasant... like being in a cesspool. Sure, you can muck about but who wants to intentionally do that?
Going out was rarely fun for me; lately, it has been a bit of a chore.

The Man With a Hat

The very first night I spent the night in my current apartment, my new roommate confided in me that there was a ghost. The ghost of a man who died in the kitchen. My bedroom is off of the kitchen.
I haven't yet seen the Man with the Hat (as my roommates name him) but I have experienced some things:
My roommates and I had some cocktails one night. We stayed up a little later than we should, I suppose? I got in bed and tried to sleep. I woke up to the covers being gently jerked off the foot of the bed. I sat up part-way and said, "stop it, I'm trying to sleep!" and it stopped. It wasn't until the morning that I realized that my roommates were in bed and not playing a prank on me. A few times I've woken with the sheets at the foot of the bed; if I push them myself, they tend to fall to one side or the other.
When one roommate went to visit his mother for the weekend, I perceived a man-sized shadow in his room as I walked by. I stopped and, without looking, simply said, "He'll be back in 2 days" and kept walking. There was no further activity after that.
Sitting in the den, alone, I perceived someone looking at me. I glanced up and saw a shadow dart away. I cannot rule out someone moving around but I didn't hear anything.. and it's impossible to move around the apartment without making some noise.
The closet door in the hallway began rattling one night. I put my hand on the door to make sure I wasn't imagining it when there was a muffled breath, as if something breathing through the keyhole. It stopped right after that.
So, nothing cosmic, nothing that couldn't be explained away, no messages from beyond the grave... yet. I'm keeping my senses open for this one.

Something Wicked

Back in In Blackest Night , I discussed the church complex that I grew up in. Basically, the church was several buildings connected by outdoor walkways. The old Chapel was turned into the Teen Chapel because of some unusual circumstances that took place there.
We discovered, some months prior, that a window that faced the tree line could be pried open easily. This allowed us access to the then all-but-abandoned Chapel. But we never went in when it was getting dark outside. We never turned on any lights, which would draw attention to our secret playground.
One night, several of us tweens had been left by our parents/rides home. It wasn't unusual for families to show up in several cars so it was actually very easy and common for someone to be left behind. We got to a phone and called our respective families for a ride home and now were waiting outside for someone to show up.
I saw it. Each of the kids in our little group saw it. Movement, down the walkway near the Chapel. Human-sizes movement. It looked like monks were walking around the building. Some of us went to look but we didn't see anything. We went back to the rest of group and talked about what we had thought we had seen and what should we do next?
Only two of us, me and J----, saw what happened next. A figure in a hooded cloak turned the corner on the walkway, heading for the Nursery. In fact, Julie says she heard the distinctive sound of the Nursery door close. We hatched our plan.
The boys (C----, S----, and I) went to investigate. The girls would stay behind and see if anyone slips past us and/or alert any adult who might show up what was going on. We split up.
When we got to the Nursery door, my heart dropped: the door was unlocked. We slipped in and figured out how to search the rooms while keeping an eye on the door, preventing anyone from getting past us. Room after room was empty. The final room, the room I had seen an angel in as a child, awaited. We approached the door.
A figure stood in the middle of the room with his back to the door. As we watched, he raised his arms and his cloak fell away revealing... nothing. It was as if he had turned into air, the cloak falling to the ground as if it just collapsed.
We had planned on trying to tackle whomever we found; instead, we ran. As we rounded the corner, C----'s father, a state trooper, showed up. With minimal prompting, we got him to check out the Nursery. We saw his flashlight bobbing through the rooms from the outside (we were instructed to stay put) and then he came out. Something was draped over his nightstick which he held at arm's length, as if it were a snake. It looked like a cloak. He put it in the trunk of his squad car and waited until everyone's parents had shown up to take us home.
After that night, the Chapel was inspected. A group of volunteers went in to paint the walls. It seems they were covered in "water stains". Interior walls with no pipes had water sprayed on them that formed a dark red stain. Yeah, we didn't believe them either.
On a dare, we went into the HVAC closet of the Chapel. There, resting on a wall stud, were some implements of dark rites including a small dagger and a small gilded cup with blood stains. The next time I dared to go look, they were gone. I don't know who took them.
Somehow, we were allowed to have a haunted house for the first and last time that year. Where? The Chapel of course. I was the Phantom, a creature of the catacombs. A bit of a stretch but an apt character for someone who had explored the lower level of the Chapel.

The Old Man and Me (Part III, The Final Goodbye)

One night, I woke up to see the Old Man standing near the foot of the bed about a foot or so away. His back was against the wall and he was facing the door opposite. I was a bit bleary-eyed as I tried to talk to him. He didn't respond at first. I sat up, sensing something was wrong. Then, he slowly, slowly turned his head towards me. His aura darkened. I tried to scream when I saw his eye sockets were empty and his face seemed to age before my eyes. He began to step towards the bed, taunting me to call for my parents. I backed up as far as I could as he began to crawl onto the foot of the bed. I jumped out of bed and ran for the door as his dry rasping laugh faded away. I knocked at my parent's door only to have Mom escort me back to bed. Of course, he was gone. The sheets were on the floor.
The next day, the Old Man was back. This time, his aura and demeanor were light. I confided in him what had happened. He was saddened to hear what had happened, assured me that it was not him, and that he thought he knew what needed to be done. He told me was going to be going away soon and that I would have to be strong without him and, after he was gone, everything should settle down a bit. I was torn. I was still uncertain from what had happened the previous night but I also didn't want him to go; through everything, he was the only adult (albeit dead) who believed that I could see and speak with ghosts AND he could fend off the Bad Things.
A few nights later, the Bad Things were calling from the darkness and woke me up. The Old Man was there. He went towards the darkness, the voices, and I could hear their conflict as if down a far tunnel as it faded away. The bedroom seemed lighter somehow. I hadn't realized that there was a darkness in the room before that.
I only saw teh Old Man one more time after that night. My family was all together one day, having lunch. The Old Man was glowing and all smiles but he wouldn't talk to me. He indicated that he didn't want to talk, he was just there to check in on me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out "STOP!" when my sister went to sit in the seat that he was sitting in. Mom spun me around and demanded to know what was going on. I told her the Old Man was sitting there. Mom took my head in her hands and told me to repeat after her, "there are no ghosts, there's nothing in the dark, and nothing is out to get me". As I repeated those dreadful words, I watched the Old Man fade away, as if being pulled backwards down a tunnel. He was smiling and waving as he left, though, perhaps, a bit sad.
I haven't interacted with any ghosts like I did with him since that day.

The Old Man and Me (Part II, the, well, Still Early Years)

Just as a small child has a distorted sense of the passage of time, so too is my recollection of how long I knew the Old Man. In retrospect, I would estimate from the ages of 3 to 6 years old? Hence, I cannot accurately say when certain events transpired. I can put my best guess at it and try to make sense of it.
The Old Man's early appearances were, initially, frightening -- most spirits had minimal interaction with me but he was intent on communicating with me. He did eventually clarify that he wasn't there to frighten me. I daresay we were friends?
At one point, I grew to appreciate his presence. When he was around, nothing came to haunt me and nightmares were rare. When he was away... it's as if the Bad Things, the things we fear, knew it was safe to come after me.
At one point, the Bad Things started to come after me when the Old Man was around. He told me he could hold them off a bit but I would have to be strong if something got past him. I mustn't show fear, the Bad Things lived for that. I recall having just enough fortitude to stand up to one such Bad Thing one night, a shadowy creature with a barely audible but very angry hiss.
The details of these conflicts are muddled. I recall Mom walking in my room on one such night, to find out what the noises were coming from my room. I was huddled up, peering just over the edge of my sheets clutched close to my face. Going from the lit hallway to my darkened room, she didn't see the clothes that had been in mid-air fall to the ground. She just complained that I had a messy room and hadn't we just cleaned it up before I went to bed? I couldn't tell her why the clothes were there because she never believed me when I told her about the ghosts.
Those instances were rare; for the most part, the Old Man and I laughed and played games and enjoyed being able to perceive each other.