I watched as our host’s mood
changed from excitement to defeat. All the compliments Melissa and
I offered were unable to counterbalance the joy-sucking
recommendations from this man. When we got to the stairway to go
see the upstairs, she paused at the bottom, then said, “Let’s
continue this later just in case someone else arrives.” She
later snuck Melissa and me upstairs when the man was busy talking
to other guests.
What’s interesting about
this story is that I don’t believe the man was trying to be
intentionally critical. I think he just sees himself as an
interior decorator. When his spouse pointed out the errors of his
fault-finding opinions, the man supported his actions by claiming
he was merely being helpful. He was completely unaware of the
cruel bite of his “suggestions.”
It’s ironic, too, because
the new homeowner is one of the most positively supportive people
I know. Whenever I tell her about something exciting that’s
going on in my life, she responds with such enthusiasm that I get
even more excited about it. I’ve only known her about six years,
yet she’s always been this way. She has this ability to make a
rainy day romantic and a sunny day even more delightful.
When I told this friend about
my newest venture, Afterlife
TV, within minutes she told me how my whole career had
prepared me to be a great interviewer, how much these video
interviews are going to benefit people, and how I’ve always been
at the cutting edge of Internet trends. Her positive reaction had
me feeling more pumped than ever about my new site.
This woman’s initial impulse
toward positive encouragement is kind of rare, partly because
it’s so authentic. She genuinely gets enlivened about other
people’s accomplishments. In contrast, too many people seem
wired to automatically give constructive criticism, helpful
advice, or a word of warning about what might go wrong, even when
advice isn’t being sought. People generally share news of their
life merely out of excitement—they really aren’t seeking
guidance. They want others to share in their exhilaration, not
tread on it.
The fact is that even mild
criticism diminishes our joy around creative endeavors, new
purchases and plans for change. Rather than fill us with light,
critique more commonly casts a shadow. Too often we use the word
“constructive” in front of our criticism to justify it
spilling out of our mouths. But is unsolicited critique ever
justified? Coaches, therapists and consultants are hired for their
analysis. But friends and family often share their negative
opinions without invitation.
I happened to catch an episode
of Modern Family recently. It was the Thanksgiving episode that just
happened to touch upon this subject. Within the extended family
portrayed in this TV show, one man realized that his creativity
had been trampled by his wife’s criticism of his “silly”
inventions. Another man criticized his partner’s telling of a
true story about his youth because the partner said it sounded too
exaggerated to be factual. And a third man believed that it was
his responsibility to criticize his young son’s artistic
expression if it was ugly because he didn’t want to encourage
his son to waste time pursuing something where he had no talent.
Personally, I believe that
most criticism doesn’t really come from a desire to help other
people, even when we claim it does. I believe there’s a deeper
motivation behind our words. Perhaps a mother doesn’t want her
young son to dress up as a giant red heart for Halloween because
it embarrasses HER. Perhaps the man who criticized my friend’s
house just wanted to be recognized for his design talent. And
perhaps a woman criticizes her husband’s inventions because it
reflects something inside her that she’d like to pursue, but she
feels too fearful to risk doing.
It’s never too late to ask
ourselves how we typically respond in this situation. Are you the
type of person who routinely GIVES joy to other people with praise
and enthusiasm or the type who TAKES joy from other people with
unsolicited criticism? And, for those who TAKE joy from others, do
you find that you justify your criticism by claiming that you’re
being helpful to those people? Have you ever said, “Well I get
to say those things to her because I’m her friend. If I don’t
tell her she sings like a Basset Hound, who IS going to tell
I think many of us have been
guilty of this in our lives. I certainly know that I have. But I
want to be sure that I’m the type of person whose initial,
knee-jerk reaction is to offer positive feedback and encouragement
rather than negative feedback and evaluation. And I believe the
first step is simply being aware of the difference in order to
make the conscious choice to be one way or the other. With simple
awareness, we can catch ourselves if we’re about to be critical
and quickly turn that around to spreading joy and light. Before we
know it, we can be more like my friend with the new house who
habitually comes from a place of love and joy. And just imagine
what the world would be like if more people did that? That, to me,
is a worthy goal to pursue.
Here are some
questions we can ask ourselves before offering constructive
Is the person just sharing with me or asking me for
Is my critical feedback more about me (and my life) and
less about them?
3. Is my feedback actually going to be helpful?
Might it be better to simply be encouraging and let this
person learn from their own experience knowing that their
experience could be different than mine?
How might we both feel if my feedback was only encouraging
Happy Holidays to you and
Flow In Your Life Through Simplicity
Three years ago,
I wanted to teach about life after death using video on the
Internet. I started the process a few times, but it never came to
fruition. In 2010, I even paid hosting for a year for a website
specifically for this purpose. But one obstacle led to another and
the site never got created.
realized that what was holding me up was that I wanted to do too
many things with the website. I wanted videos, of course, but I
also planned to add articles, event calendars, live streaming
webcasts and more. One day while driving on the highway, I was
reminded of the KISS principle (keep it simple stupid) by a bumper
sticker on a Volkswagen bug. So I decided to create a website that
was solely about video.
streamlined my goals, the site quickly fell into place. I stripped
down the website template that I’d originally chosen so that the
site was essentially a vlog (video blog). It doesn’t get any
simpler than that. And I used the domain name AfterlifeTV.com,
which I had bought years prior.
In keeping things simple, I also changed my plan to do 3-camera,
in-studio filming of interviews and, instead, record interviews
via Skype. That alone opened me up to interviewing people around
the world, not just people who could travel to my studio in
Once I tweaked
and tested all my equipment and was finally ready to go, I was
anxious to conduct an actual interview. So I invited my friend
Danielle MacKinnon for my first interview. I knew she was tech
savvy and was likely set up with a good Skype camera and Internet
connection. I also knew she was good with spontaneity, so I asked
her if she could do it the following day. Sure enough, Danielle
was available and willing to do it.
Danielle is what
I call a soul contract intuitive, which means she uses her
intuitive abilities to tap into what our pre-birth contracts are
with friends and relatives in our life. Essentially she helps us
discover how and why even our challenging relationships are
beneficial to us. Nonetheless, for some reason I was drawn to
interview Danielle about the question Do
Pets Go To The Afterlife? In my gut, I felt that this was an
important interview to do. And since Danielle is also
extraordinarily gifted as an animal communicator, I knew she could
answer that question with profound insight.
went brilliantly, although I realized in the middle of it that
there was no way this interview could end after 30 minutes, which
was my original intention. So I kept the interview going for an
hour and I’m glad I did. I turned the interview into two
30-minute videos, and many people say that the second 30-minute
video is their favorite.
I have a lot of
experience editing video. I even have the same video editing
software used by professionals because I spent a few years of my
life creating a documentary. But once I began editing Danielle’s
interview, I realized that I didn’t want to edit it. I knew that
I wanted you—the viewer—to see and hear everything exactly as
it happened—totally organic and fully authentic. So if a
guest’s dog runs in front of the camera or somebody sneezes, I
want that to be on screen. I want viewers to know that there’s
nothing tricky going on here. People are skeptical about the
afterlife as it is, so the whole point of this vlog is to make it
real. Consequently, I reverted to my simplicity theme once again
to offer video interviews that are unedited.
In addition to Video Interviews, you’ll also find what I call
Video Reports on the site. Video Reports are videos of me teaching
you what I’ve learned about spirits, spirit communication and
the spirit world. I’ve recently added a few videos revealing
what I’ve learned in my research of psychics and mediums. Some
reports on there currently include, 8
Tips For Improving Your Reading With A Psychic Medium, The
Most Compelling Evidence Of Life After Death, and Is
My Parent In Spirit Aware Of My Newborn Baby?
I also added some interviews I had previously done with medium
Carole Lynne about the afterlife. Instead of offering the entire
interview, I separated these videos by question, so each one is
only a few minutes long. Some of the questions include, What
Happens When We Die? and Can
Our Loved Ones In Spirit Hear Us When We Talk To Them?
A couple weeks later, I got a call from James Van Praagh asking if
I would interview him on Afterlife TV. I was like, “Say what? A
New York Times bestselling author, Co-Executive Producer of Ghost Whisperer, and star of Beyond
With James Van Praagh wants to be interviewed on Afterlife TV?
Yeah, I’ll do that.”
I think it says a lot about James that he called me. Most people
in his position would wait to see what other celebrities were
going to be interviewed on this new website before stepping up.
Instead, James saw what I was doing and called me to be a part of
it. I love that about him.
I’ve got to tell you, James Van Praagh overflows with enthusiasm
for this subject. He loves teaching about life after death, and he
immediately committed to four interviews. The first, which was
just added to Afterlife TV, is about his background writing books
and producing TV shows. If you watch it, you’ll recognize a
theme in his story about the divine coincidences in our lives.
It’s a wonderful and important message.
The second interview will be about James’ process for
communicating with spirit, and he answers many common questions
people have about spirit communication. The third interview will
be titled, Are Your Loved
Ones In Spirit Trying To Tell You Something? This interview
will be about after-death communication and how our loved ones in
spirit send us signs that they are around us. And the fourth James
Van Praagh interview will be about What Happens When Children Go To The Afterlife. In this interview,
we’ll be talking about the subject of his latest book, Growing Up In Heaven.
If you want to be notified when I add these upcoming videos to
Afterlife TV, be sure to sign up for our newsletter (on the site),
which is used solely for notifying people about new videos. I’ve
also scheduled upcoming interviews with other authors, experts and
practitioners to talk about near-death experience, past-life
regression, after-death communication, suicide and the afterlife,
and more. If you have questions about life after death, you
won’t want to miss these interviews.
So I set out to create a new video blog website and I learned a
lesson about simplicity. It’s not an original message by any
means. In fact, I know I’ve written about the subject before.
But keeping life simple has proven to keep me in the flow of life.
And, personally, I feel a lot more inner peace during times of
flow than times of struggle and chaos.
As evidence of
that flow, my wife, Melissa, and I lost our 11-year-old cat, Max,
three days after I added the Do Pets Go To The Afterlife? interview on Afterlife TV. Max’s
loss was sudden and unexpected, and it was difficult for us both,
but especially for Melissa. Her grief hit hard and she needed
something to give her some comfort. I recommended she watch my
interview with Danielle.
The day after Max’s passing, Melissa took her laptop outside on
our deck to watch the interview. She walked outside in deep
despair and came back in the house after watching it looking more
at ease. The perspective presented by Danielle was both healing
and comforting to Melissa’s grief. And the timing of that
interview just prior to Max’s unexpected loss was a true
blessing. Already, the very first interview of this new website
was beneficial to someone very near and dear. When that happens, I
know that what I’ve created will be benefit many others, as
To check out Afterlife TV, visit http://www.afterlifetv.com
Let The Universe Create Miracles To Support You
I was talking with a friend the other day who recently lost his job due to the new economy layoffs. This all came rather unexpected since he had been in his industry for nearly 30 years and always considered his employment secure. He now toyed with the idea of doing something completely different for work, but lacked the confidence necessary to take this risky leap of faith into the unknown. Knowing that I have been self-employed since I was a teenager, he called me to talk about where my confidence for risk-taking is found. He needed to chat in hopes that he, too, might tap into such a mindset.
Without having any pep talk planned, I met my friend at a local Starbucks and began talking about my various entrepreneurial careers throughout my life. I hoped that the answers he sought might show up in my stories. They did. One story after another, it became clearly evident that I have been supported by some unknown force in every venture I’ve taken. Miracles occurred to help lead me toward my goal, usually in the form of coincidence. The more memories I recalled, the more evidence I acquired that I’ve been guided and supported.
For the sake of time and space, I’ll give only three examples. The first is how I became a private investigator. When I got out of college with a degree in Criminology, a professor had encouraged me to become a private investigator. So I became licensed and hit the streets as a private eye, not really knowing how to drum up business or even the proper way to investigate. After a few months of struggle, a high school buddy of mine told his step-father about what I was doing. The step-father was a lawyer who used a private investigator now and then, so he offered to introduce me to him. I instantly hit it off with the veteran
P.I. and he let me hang with him for a few days to see what he did for work. Coincidentally, he was at a place in his life where he had become more interested in his side business of repossessing cars for banks and his investigations had piled up due to his lack of interest in them. Long story short, I began working with him to help him with his case load and later took over his business and clients.
In a second example, after I had written and self-published my first book in 1994, my wife, Melissa, took it upon herself to bring my book to local, independent bookstores to see if they would sell the book on consignment. After stopping in at Tatnuck Bookseller in Worcester, Massachusetts, the bookstore manager agreed to put some books on their shelves. After taking about a dozen books, he told Melissa that the owner of the store had recently established a publishing company and asked if he could give a copy of my book to the editor in chief. Melissa agreed and the editor called me two hours later offering me a book contract. That's how I became a published author and the book is still selling today.
I wrote about my third example in a blog a few years ago. I had dreamed about making a documentary for years, but never felt like I had the proper skills or knowledge for it. Then one day during a conversation with a ghostwriting client (I was writing his biography), we got talking about how his story would make a great documentary. I casually mentioned my desire to create a documentary one day and he offered to pay me to make one about his story. After confessing that I was a mere amateur
videographer, he insisted that I give him a proposal, which I did and he accepted. Three years later, I had created my first documentary, which turned out to be quite successful.
After discussing several stories like this with my friend who had recently lost his job, I recognized a pattern. Once I decided what I wanted in life, I always took action very quickly. In metaphysical terms, I set an intention and then followed that intention with action. My action told the Universe what I wanted and often helped to put me in touch with people who could help me. Sometimes, where I landed was not exactly where I had originally taken action to go--it was even better. And what I realized was that if not for my action, I might have never got to where I landed, because it was my action that put me in the right place with the right people and at the right time for the miracles to occur.
I encourage you to take some time to think about and write down all the lucky breaks, divine coincidences and miracles that have occurred in your life that have allowed you to achieve your goals, meet the right people and attract whatever you’ve needed to have, be and do in order to meet your desires. These are not just random coincidences and lucky breaks. These are examples of the Universe supporting you.
If you actually take the time to write down all the evidence of this in your life, you will feel immensely empowered. Knowing that the Universe/Spirit/Source/God has got your back will help you to have the courage to take the necessary risks, get through the tough times and feel the inner peace amongst the chaos. Imagine knowing that you are not alone. How would your life change if you felt supported in this way? It’s certainly an exercise worth trying.
Here are some steps you can take if you need some support from the Universe in your life right now:
1. Write down some examples of how the Universe has supported you in the past.
2. Write down what you'd like to be, do or have in your life right now--these are intentions.
3. Write down some action steps that you can take immediately in order to help the Universe help you.
4. Take action on your action steps and watch the miracles occur.
5. Stay aware in order to recognize the signs that the Universe is supporting you.
OfSpirit.com Magazine editor
a Giant at a Josh Groban Concert
In September 2008, my wife,
Melissa, was diagnosed with breast cancer, which she successfully
treated alternatively using a strict raw food cleanse,
supplements, colonics, therapy, chiropractic, massage and as much
fun and laughter as was possible. But that’s another story
altogether, because I’m delighted to say that she’s perfectly
What’s relevant about 2008
in today’s story is that this experience was quite a scare—as
many can relate all too well—and, consequently, it got Melissa
thinking about all the things she wanted to do in life, which for
some reason or another, she had never allowed herself. So she
created what many know today as a bucket list. And on her bucket
list was the desire to experience three concerts with her favorite
musicians: Michael Bublé,
Dave Matthews and Josh Groban.
We saw Michael Bublé and Dave
Matthews over the first couple years, and last week we finally saw
Josh Groban at the TD Garden in Boston, what used to be known as
the Boston Garden.
We purchased tickets on the
floor in the 14th row, which we normally don’t do
because concerts can potentially be kind of crazy down there. But
Josh Groban fans are a fairly tame bunch, so it seemed safe to get
seats on the floor.
It felt like a real special occasion going to the concert,
especially considering it was the last concert on Melissa’s
bucket list, but even more because she wore a long summer dress
that made her look absolutely stunning. It had been awhile since
we’d gotten dressed up for anything other than a wedding or
funeral, so this was a special night for us. And I just love
seeing her glow so brightly.
After hitting heavy traffic on
Interstate 93, we arrived at the concert at 7:20 PM with only ten
minutes to spare before the show began. So we quickly found our
seats and were really pleased with how close they were to the
stage. Within minutes, a piano player named ELEW opened the show,
and boy can this guy play.
ELEW (for Eric Lewis) is an
interesting looking guy with big expressive eyes, sideburns down
to his jaw and a six-inch afro. He wears silver wrist cuffs around
both forearms—over the fabric of his sport coat—that makes him
look like a piano-playing superhero. And he doesn’t sit on a
bench, but rather stands in a half squat like he’s ready to
But it’s not his look so
much as his music that really sets him apart. He plays what he
calls “Rockjazz,” which is a combination of ragtime, rock, pop
and jazz, that he plays using the piano keys, plucking and
scratching the strings inside it, and even drumming on the piano
itself to create his unique and edgy sound.
ELEW was a fantastic opening
After getting all jazzed up
thanks to ELEW, we then had a half-hour wait until Josh made his
entrance. As we waited while looking at all the people, Melissa
said something about the great view we had of the stage, and I
pointed out that the two seats in front of us were still empty.
“Just watch, some giant will
probably sit there and totally block our view,” I joked.
“Oh that’s a great
affirmation,” Melissa responded, sarcastically.
It wasn’t two minutes later
that the ticket holders for those seats arrived. And, yes, you
guessed it, it was a guy and his wife and he was a very large
man—both tall and wide. Suddenly, our view wasn’t as good as
it had been.
That’s when an unseen
announcer broadcasted over the loudspeakers that people could send
questions to Josh Groban via a particular text number. I leaned
over and whispered to Melissa, “You should text the question,
‘Can you find another seat for the giant guy in front of
Melissa laughed out loud and
texted it to Josh.
About 8:30 PM, we noticed a
lot of people were looking behind us at a platform in the middle
of the arena, which was even closer to us than the stage. Melissa
assumed these people must know something we didn’t, and sure
enough the lights went down and the spotlights shined on the
middle-arena platform where Josh began to sing.
Melissa is really
the Josh Groban fan of our family, but I must say that hearing him
sing live felt like a spiritual experience. After all, he’s got
that tenor tone that vibrates through your entire body. I don’t
know that “tenor” is even accurate anymore; I’ve read that
his vocal range is now so expansive that it’s beyond
description. Regardless of how you describe him, his voice, music
and lyrics resonate with multiple generations, and hearing him in
person certainly raised my level of appreciation for his talent.
He seems like a sweetheart of a guy, too. The way he interacted
with the audience was evidence of that. For example, he had at
least a few staircases along the front of the main stage so he
could mingle with the audience. Some times he walked into the
audience. Other times he brought audience members onto the stage.
After singing his first few songs at the middle stage, Josh jogged
up the isle toward the front stage, high-fiveing people as he
went. That’s when a woman in her fifties seated behind me
reached out and grabbed Josh’s hand, holding on tight and
yanking him to a jolting stop. His body jerked as he looked behind
him with a startled facial expression.
The woman immediately began
yelling, “My son bought you for me for Mother’s Day! My son
bought you for me for Mother’s Day!”
Josh quickly composed his
shock and said into the microphone for everyone to hear, “What?
Your son bought me for you for Mother’s Day?”
The audience burst out in
laughter, though I couldn’t help feel some compassion for Josh
for the physical abuse he had just endured. Josh shook the son’s
hand (who was standing beside his mother) and then quickly made
his way up to the front stage.
“Hello Boston!” he yelled.
The audience screamed back at
“You’re an excited
bunch,” he said. Then after a brief pause, he added with a
a grabby bunch, too.”
The audience laughed. I looked
behind me at the woman. She seemed really proud of herself.
Josh sang several more songs
while Melissa and I bobbed our heads back and forth to see around
the giant in front of us. I kept thinking about the poor people
behind us who were probably doing the same thing to see around our
heads. Then I wondered how far back this chain of reactions went.
I imagined two people per row, 50-rows deep, moving their heads
side-to-side in unison because of the one giant guy sitting in
front of us.
Josh then paused to answer a
few questions texted from the audience, and we weren’t surprised
that Melissa’s wasn’t one of them. One of the questions came
from a young lady in her 20s who asked if Josh would sing with her
sister. Josh asked if the sister really had any talent and the
girl assured him she did. So he walked with his microphone up to
the sister—also in her late 20s—and she sang one of Josh’s
songs titled The Prayer with him. The girl had an angelic voice
and it was a highlight of the night. You can watch a clip of this
on YouTube, which I’ll link below this blog post.
About halfway through the
concert, Josh made his way back to the center stage in the middle
of the arena. Then, after singing a few more songs there, he ran
back to the front stage, again high-fiveing audience members along
the way. This time, the woman sitting between me and the isle—a
woman, mind you, who wouldn’t look at me or express any emotion
during the whole concert—suddenly jumped into the air screaming.
My heart jumped into my neck, as the woman turned to me in a
“He touched me! He touched
me! I just touched Josh Groban!”
The woman had no idea what to
do with the kinetic energy from her brush with celebrity. She
looked around for a face with whom to share her enthusiasm. I was
too busy swallowing my heart to get it back where it belonged. She
quickly scanned the surrounding faces until she found what she was
looking for in a woman sitting in front of her. Together they
jumped up and down in excitement, which helped her expel the
Josh then asked audience
members to stand up if they had been married for a long time.
Melissa jumped up because our 25th anniversary is
August 30th. Before I even had a chance to stand up, the giant and
his wife stood up in front of Melissa, totally blocking Josh’s
view of her. In seconds flat, Josh, who was walking down the isle
to pick someone, selected the giant and his wife to go sit on
stage for some celebration wine and a few songs.
I felt really bad that I
hadn’t stood up fast enough to be seen, as I felt it would have
really made the night special for Melissa. And it would have been
a nice way to celebrate our 25 years together. But she wasn’t
fazed by it at all. She was more excited that our affirmation had
“Do you realize what just
happened?” Melissa asked me.
“Yeah, the giant and his
wife totally stole that experience from us, just like they stole
our view of the concert,” I joked.
“No, silly,” she said.
“You said a giant would sit in front of us and one did. And then
we asked for Josh to find the giant another seat, and now that
happened, too—he’s sitting on the stage. We just saw the power
of intention in action.”
Melissa always sees the
positive in every experience. And the giant and his wife seemed to
really enjoy their experience. Plus we now had a great view of the
stage again, at least for a few songs.
It wasn’t long before the
concert ended and we found ourselves back in the car for a
two-hour ride home. We chatted about what a lovely time we had and
both realized that we need to write new bucket lists, since I had
never done one and Melissa’s was nearly empty. Life really is
too short to not make lists of everything you want to experience
and then find ways to make those experiences happen. And given the
evidence we got that night about the power of affirmations,
writing a bucket list alone is a powerful step toward having those
PS, If you’re interested in
watching that girl from the audience sing with Josh at this
concert, you’ll see what I mean about her having an angelic
PPS, If you want to learn more
about ELEW or just see some video of him, you can visit his
website here: http://elewrockjazz.com/
If you want to learn more
about Josh Groban or just see some video of him, you can visit his
website here: http://joshgroban.com
PPPS, Having manifested in
both the negative (watch a giant sit in front of us) and in the
positive (ask Josh to find the giant another seat) during this
concert, reminded Melissa and I about a new book we just read on
this subject. It’s titled, You
Can Create An Exceptional Life by Louise Hay & Cheryl
Richardson, and we both highly recommend it. Click on the link
below to read about it on Amazon.com.
PPPPS, If you’re interested
in alternative treatments for any health issue, Melissa recommends
covering all your bases in body, mind and spirit. However, in
terms of the body, Melissa is grateful for the guidance and
services of Kristen and Anna at Revitalive
in Newburyport, Massachusetts. You can read more about them here.
Tell them Bob & Melissa Olson sent you.
Seeing God In Everyone You Meet
A couple years ago, during summer vacation, Melissa and I visited one of our favorite restaurants in Boothbay Harbor, Maine. The place is named 93 Townsend for its address on Townsend Avenue, and we went there for our anniversary dinner.
We stumbled upon the restaurant the prior year when we instantly fell in love with its food and atmosphere. It has an old-fashioned, handcrafted bar that seats up to 20 people and about 15 tables sprawled around an L-shaped interior. This particular year we were pleased to snag up one of the two tables beside the front window, just as we had the year before. What never crossed our minds, however, was that these tables sit right next to the bar.
In a classy joint like 93 Townsend, you wouldn’t expect a patron should need to consider seating strategies away from the bar. It still didn’t occur to us when we first sat down and a man seated alone at the end of the bar started talking to us.
The hostess had just seated us and mentioned something about turning down the lights. I hadn’t noticed, but I guess they were a tad on the bright side. Ten seconds later, the lights dimmed and the atmosphere grew warmer.
“Wow, you two have some pull around here,” said the man seated at the bar. He was only three feet away from me. “You walk in and the lights go down. You must be important people.”
“We’re not important,” I responded. “We’re just distant relatives of Moses. He could part the Red Sea; we can dim lights. It’s our favorite trick.”
The man laughed. “What other abilities do you have?”
“Oh that’s it. Moses got all the good stuff. We can only dim lights.”
That was it, so I expected, just a little friendly banter between patrons. The man began to talk to the bartender as we looked at our menus. After ordering our meals, Melissa picked up a box of Trivial Pursuit cards on the table and began asking me trivia questions. I got lucky on the first three questions, which never happens; but I was stumped on the fourth. That’s when the man at the bar blurted out the answer. I looked to my right and he seemed a little embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. That was rude. I just couldn’t help myself,” he said.
“Hey, that’s fine. I was never going to get the answer,” I told him.
But the man’s disruption did have me wondering how long he’d been listening to our conversation. Let’s just say it was a red flag that had me questioning if our request for this table was a bad idea.
The man’s trivia answer was in response to an Entertainment question about a movie from the 1950s. This got the man chattering about old movies, which then got him reminiscing about the days of radio when his family would gather and listen to radio broadcasts in the living room.
His favorite show was Gunsmoke. Melissa and I admitted that we never knew it was a radio show prior to being a popular TV hit. He then gave a rather lengthy discourse on how John Wayne turned the part down. At this point, I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the radio show or the TV show. This then got him talking about William Shatner who played a role in
Gunsmoke, the TV show, which somehow led him into doing impersonations of what I guess were present-day Shatner comedy routines. This is where it got a little weird.
I began noticing that the man’s storyline had a tendency to drift. I remained friendly but guarded, waiting to figure him out. I’d been in this situation before and knew that once you let the cat in, it’s sometimes near impossible to get him back out the door.
The man then steered us into a rather intellectual conversation about the psychology of storytelling, comparing imagination-stirring radio with imagination-negating TV. He told an interesting story about New York University offering a course on psychology and cinematography. And this was when I recognized that certain words in this man’s vernacular were in stark contrast with his appearance. He was an intellectual in sheep’s clothing.
Observing the man as he spoke, I estimated he was in his sixties. He wore tattered jeans and an old tee shirt, which were out of place for the stylish restaurant. Then I noticed he was drinking a glass of wine, which seemed out of place for his appearance. I think it was the dainty wine glass that appeared too sophisticated for his old-boxer physique. His hair was gray and shaved close to his head. His hands were callused. His arms were muscular. And his voice was gruff like Rocky Balboa’s manager, Mickey.
As he chatted about one subject and then the next, Melissa and I learned his life story. His name is David. He’s originally from Vermont but left there 18 years ago when the company he worked for closed. He then hopped into his pickup truck and drove to Boothbay, Maine, looking for work, where he found a job as a carpenter’s assistant. That position led him to work as a handyman-slash-caretaker for a local homeowner while taking carpentry jobs on the side. But when his primary employer objected to his taking side jobs, he asked for a raise because he wasn’t earning enough to repair his broken-down pickup truck. His employer refused the raise so he left that job and started working for a construction company that paid better, where he continues to work today.
At least that’s the story I deciphered. Besides needing a dictionary to look up some of David’s words, I also needed an iron to flatten out his line of thought. Not everything was entirely coherent. I now questioned how many glasses of wine he’d enjoyed before we got there. Either that or he had a brilliant mind that was moving much faster than his mouth could manage.
David kept apologizing for talking so much, yet he kept on talking. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. On the one hand, I enjoyed his company. On the other hand, it wasn’t the romantic anniversary dinner I had intended. I half expected he’d give us our privacy when our meals arrived, so I remained patient. But for ten minutes after my lobster macaroni & cheese and Melissa’s lobster risotto sat on the table, David was still on a roll. His oration traveled from politics to sociology to religion.
It seemed that Melissa and I were not the only people to notice David’s rambling. People around the restaurant kept staring. I even saw the bartender secretly pointing our way while talking to another couple seated halfway down the bar. She had given me the
googly-eye three times already as she walked by with drinks in her hand, as if to ask, Do you want me to ask him to move? But I ignored her stares as if I didn’t notice because I didn’t want her to embarrass the man. And I know Melissa well enough to be certain she didn’t want to shame him, either. Besides, our meals were still piping hot, so I waited to see what would happen once we began eating.
As odd as the experience was, the more David talked, the more Melissa and I liked him. He was smart, funny and gentle. He had his opinions but he wasn’t judgmental or pushy. In fact, his words revealed a compassionate character inside a man who simply loved people. I sensed he might be lonely, which is probably why he was sitting at the bar in the first place. And by this time I knew he wasn’t intoxicated. His social cortex was merely lubricated by the wine.
I finally surrendered to the possibility that David might talk through the entire meal. Once I got to know him better, I actually no longer minded. And when Melissa’s eyes twinkled at me briefly—as if to say, “I think he’s sweet”—I knew she didn’t mind, either. That’s when my meal had cooled enough to eat it without searing my tongue, so I took a few bites. And in a twist of circumstance, I looked up at David to see his back to me. He was facing the other way to let us eat in private.
I was tempted to speak to David out of kindness, since I was sure he was aware of the bartender’s
googly-eyes and the other patrons’ stares. He seemed too sharp to not have noticed. But I took the moment to focus on Melissa. I knew we could talk to David more after the meal. The food was absolutely lovely. They couldn’t have crammed more lobster meat into those dishes. And later, once we finished our main course, I brought David back into the conversation.
As dessert arrived, the bartender whispered an apology to Melissa for our disrupted meal while David and I conversed. Melissa told her not to worry, that we were content. And when the conversation turned to current movies, David and Melissa had a blast sharing their favorite titles with one another. That’s when I saw the bartender ringing up our bill, so I walked down the bar and quietly requested that she put David’s bill on ours. I wanted to express to him with a gesture that we appreciated his company—we didn’t resent it—but I didn’t want him to know about it until after we’d left. The bartender seemed surprised at my request. I think it finally occurred to her that we actually enjoyed talking with him.
When I arrived back at the table after paying the bill, David was telling Melissa that his favorite movie of all time is Pay It Forward, a movie about random acts of kindness. Chills sprinkled down my spine. We chatted a little longer, but when David pulled his credit card out, Melissa and I said our goodbyes.
“We’re really grateful to have met you, David,” I said, as I shook his hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Bob,” he said. “I feel like the two of you are old friends.”
Maybe we are, I thought, as David took Melissa’s hand, bent over and kissed it gently. But then he suddenly appeared nervous. His brain got in the way of his instincts. He looked at me to read my reaction. I smiled. He relaxed. And Melissa gave him a big hug. David’s eyes turned misty, which had me wondering how long it had been since he’d been hugged.
Melissa and I then grabbed our doggy bags and left. And as we walked out the door, David hollered in his gravely voice, “Bartender! I’m ready for my check, please.”
On the way back to the car, Melissa looked at me and said, “If
we give people a chance, you can see God in everyone you meet.”
The Food--Medication Connection That Saves You Money
A year ago, I
began having issues with a medication I had been taking for 16
years. I was experiencing toxicity from it, which I can only
describe as the symptoms of being drunk—dizziness, blurred
vision, slurred speech and the inability to think clearly. I
wasn’t sure what I was going to do.
When I first
began taking this medication in 1994—something I need to take
for life—I started at the maximum recommended dose, which was
1200 mg per day. This wasn’t surprising, as I’ve always needed
more medication than most in order for it to work. But then, every
few years, I needed to increase the dose. My doctors said my body
was getting used to the medication, so it needed more in order to
have what they called a therapeutic effect.
In the fall of
2007, my wife, Melissa, and I went on a raw food diet, meaning we
ate mostly raw vegetables and no meat (no beef, no poultry, no
fish). What was intended to be a temporary nutritional diet turned
into an ongoing lifestyle because we both felt so good eating
healthy, mostly uncooked food. The surprise that came, however,
was that I became toxic on my medication for the first time. Long
story short, I learned that as my body became cleaner (less
clogged with foods that like to cling to our intestines), I began
absorbing more of the medication, so I needed less of it.
It was after
three months on the raw food diet that I first experienced
toxicity because I was absorbing more of the medication than my
body needed. So I went down on the dose and the toxicity went
away. Luckily, my medication is the type that I can take a blood
test to know if it’s in the range for therapeutic effect,
and—low and behold—I was still in the therapeutic range even
though I was now taking less of it. In fact, I was at the exact
same therapeutic level, which meant I truly needed less medication
for the same effect.
In the first year
of eating raw food, I went down on my medication three times
(about every three to four months). And, in 2008, I was now taking
only 1700 mg a day. I had gone down 300 mg despite previously
having gone up 100 mg every 3 years. How cool is that? The whole
experience was an incredible testimonial to how clogged up our
bodies are due to the typical American diet.
Today, Melissa is
still 95 percent vegan (for the health benefits), but I’m
probably 85 percent veggies and 15 percent other stuff, including
some beef, poultry and fish. So I wondered if I might need to go
up on my medication at some point since I wasn’t eating 100
percent raw food anymore. Nope! Instead, I actually went down once
more about two years later.
It was January
2010. I had been experiencing occasional toxicity, so I adjusted
my daily dose down to 1600 mg. Unfortunately, lowering the dose
didn’t stop the toxicity this time. Yet taking less than 1600 mg
brought me below the therapeutic level (as indicated by blood
tests and evident by recurring symptoms that the medication had
eliminated in 1994). So I was clearly getting toxic, but taking
less of the medication would deplete the reason I was taking it in
the first place. This sent Melissa and me on an investigation.
After about a
month of researching all the ingredients in the medication,
Melissa and I realized that there were some inactive ingredients
that might have been causing some of the toxicity—possibly
causing the toxicity I was currently experiencing. One extra,
unnecessary ingredient is known as Magnesium Stearate, which is
added to many, if not most, medication tablets (and even vitamin
tablets) for the purpose of preventing the tablets from getting
stuck in the machines that make the tablets and fill the
The more I read
about this inactive ingredient (and several others that were in my
medication), the more I felt intuitively that this was causing my
new problem. After all, I was taking 8 pills a day with this stuff
in it—that’s 240 pills a month. So I was putting a lot of
unnecessary ingredients into my body, and that stuff can build up
suggested I take the same medication but in liquid form, which
would be cleaner. So I tried it because it did have less inactive
ingredients. My toxicity stopped but I became severely bloated
after about two weeks. After checking the ingredients again, I
realized they added Sorbitol for flavoring so that children would
like it. I couldn’t believe it. I got rid of one problem only to
cause another. The liquid form worked, but once again I had a
problem due to an inactive ingredient—this time used just to
make it taste like some weird medicated soft drink.
This is when I
remembered that a friend had been using a compound pharmacist to
make a medication for him the old fashioned way—by mixing
ingredients and putting them into capsules, creams and liquids by
hand. So I found two compound pharmacists right here in Maine and
gave them a call.
I learned that
compound pharmacies are able to make almost any medication once
it’s available in generic form. So I got quotes from these two
compound pharmacists who said they could make my medication for me
AND they could make it for me without all the inactive
ingredients. In fact, they added only one inactive (and harmless)
ingredient where my name brand medication had several inactive
(and potentially harmful) ingredients.
pharmacy was $100 cheaper than the other. The less expensive
pharmacist said they could make me a one-month supply for $75.
They do take insurance, but my health insurance plan didn’t
cover this prescription. What was funny, though, was that I was
paying $280 a month for the name brand medication through Rite Aid
Pharmacy, and now I would only pay $75 for medication that
didn’t have all that unnecessary crap in it. I was saving over
$200 a month.
pharmacy’s medication did work perfectly, so my toxicity issues
were over. I have since referred many friends and relatives who
take medication to compound pharmacies. If you’ve ever been
given a medication that caused a side effect, you know that some
doctors will just add another medication to your daily regimen to
offset the new side effect. And, before you know it, you’re
taking five or ten medications. Yet many side effects result from
inactive ingredients in medications, so there are likely tens of
thousands, if not millions, of people out there taking multiple
medications instead of just one because of the side effects caused
by these added ingredients that don’t need to be in there.
To me, getting
medication from a compound pharmacist (who agrees to not put any
unnecessary ingredients in it) is like getting a steak without the
fat, getting a new computer without the trial software, and
getting soap without the dyes and unhealthy chemicals that make it
colorful and more foamy. If you’d like your body to be cleaner,
and therefore healthier, give a compound pharmacist a call to see
if they can make your medication with the least amount of inactive
As I write this
in June 2011, I now take only 1400 mg of my medication. That’s
only 200 mg more than I started taking seventeen years ago in
1994. And that’s 600 mg per day less than four years ago (18,000
mg per month less and 216,000 mg per year less), just because
I’ve been more conscious about what foods I put into my body. A
cleaner body means I need less medication to have the same effect,
and that can only be healthier for me.
I know this
isn’t the most thrill seeking, emotionally engaging blog story
I’ve written. But I know there are a lot of people who are
taking medications, or will need to take medications some day, who
will benefit from my story. So I thought it was worthwhile to
share it. Please refer this to anyone you know who takes
medications. It might truly change their life.
PS, To find a
compound pharmacist, do a Google search for compound pharmacies or
specialty pharmacies in your area. When you call them, ask to
speak to a pharmacist. You’ll want to ask if they can make your
particular prescription, how much it will cost and if your
insurance will cover it.
pharmacies that my family members and I have used are listed
below. They both ship your medication to you at no extra charge.
Just get quotes from both of them. And tell them Bob Olson sent
you, even though they’ll probably have no idea who I am.
1. Apothecary By
Specialty RX: http://www.ascendspecialtyrx.com
OfSpirit.com Magazine editor
Mr. Bob Goes To The Spa – A Photographic Journal
by Bob Olson
This month’s blog was inspired by my friends. In celebration of my birthday on May
3rd, my wife arranged for all of us to go bowling and then out to dinner
Saturday night. My friends Michael, Cheryl and Ileen gave me a Mr. Bill
figure because Michael had created some very funny “Mr. Bob” cartoons in the past on his
Being playful, my wife, Melissa, and I began photographing Mr. Bob in precarious
situations throughout the day on Sunday and texting one photo every hour to
everyone who was at the birthday celebration. One response from our friend Max
read, “Are you having a spa day, Bob?” And Max's text inspired the following
PS, In order to fully appreciate the twisted humor in this photographic journal, it’s
important to know that the “Mr. Bill” skits, which originated in old Saturday Night
Live episodes, always left Mr. Bill (who was made of clay) in dangerous and even
Mr. Bob Goes To The Spa
I began my day by waking up to a sunny morning with my dog by my
side. I was excited about the day because I’d booked myself in one
of the best spas in New England for the weekend.
“Oh boy! “Today is going to be fun and full of wonderful surprises!”
To begin my
day, spa employees set me up with some calisthenics.
“They really know how to motivate you to keep going.”
Then it was off for a smoothie body wrap.
“Excuse me little boy. Please don’t play with those buttons.”
After feeling invigorated from the body wrap, it was time for a hot oil treatment.
“Hello? Hello? This is the hot oil treatment, right?”
By midmorning, I was off for some reflexology.
“Wow! I had no idea how effective reflexology can be.”
Then I got the most cutting-edge
“Cool. No more crunches or sit-ups for me.”
Finally, I ended my day with vibrational massage therapy.
“Oh, there it is. I’m starting to feel the vibration.”
What a wonderful day. This spa really knows how to pamper people.
“Affirmation for tonight: Tomorrow’s going to be a great day!”
Melissa and I had a fun time over the course of the day playing with Mr. Bob. So, if
there’s a message in this blog at all, it’s to reconnect with the child in you and find
more time to play.
Warmest wishes for a playful month,
Bob Olson, OfSpirit.com editor
Best Psychic Directory
Best Psychic Mediums
The Law of
If people in my home state of Maine weren’t paying attention
last year, they might have thought we went from fall to
spring by skipping right over winter. Call it global warming
or just plain luck (I loathe winter), but I only used my
snowblower once the entire winter season. Yippee! So I hoped
this winter would be much of the same.
Looking at my ten-year-old snowblower this past December, I
noticed it was looking sad and rusty. I wasn’t sure it was
going to start this year, as I had to pull the starter pulley
dozens of times last winter before I could get it to work.
Nevertheless, this year, I kept procrastinating bringing it
in for a tune up until it was too late—the weather person
predicted a nor’easter.
“I’ll just shovel like the old days,” I told Melissa.
“I’ll enjoy the exercise.”
So I shoveled after the first two inches had fallen, hoping to
remove the flakes two or three inches at a time. Yet somehow
the storm turned up the volume, and before I knew it, another
ten inches had fallen.
“No problem,” I said to Melissa, as I pulled up on my belt
while doing my best Don Knotts impression, “I’ll have the
driveway shoveled in a jiffy.”
As I began to shovel this time, however, the snow was made of
lead. Honestly, someone must have mixed ball bearings in with
outside my house. After exactly three minutes of shoveling, I said
to Melissa, “I’m going see if I can get the snowblower
going.” She handed me the key to the snowblower like she
had known this would happen all along.
Melissa and I walked down to the barn and I checked the snowblower
for gas. Yup, the tank was filled with year-old gas. Melissa
looked at me, “Is that bad?” It was bad. But it didn’t
really matter because I didn’t have any fresh gas to use.
“This is going to take about a hundred pulls before this thing starts,”
I predicted to Melissa.
“That’s a bad affirmation to give yourself,” she responded.
I ignored her comment and began pulling the starter pulley.
I pulled and pulled, but the snowblower didn’t even twitch. I
pulled with my right hand. I pulled with my left hand. I
fiddled with the choke. I pushed on the primer switch. I
moved the gas lever up and down. Nothing worked, not even a
sputter. I caught my breath and pulled some more until little
beads of sweat began to form on my forehead.
After literally pulling on this thing about a hundred times, I admitted
defeat. “I surrender,” I told Melissa, and I put my cold hands
into my pockets. She looked at me kind of sadly, knowing that I’d
just worn myself out for shoveling.
My eyes opened wide. “Oh my God,” I said.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
I pulled my hand out of my pocket, holding the key to the
snowblower. “I forgot to put the key in.”
I put the key in the snowblower, pulled the starter pulley three times,
and it fired up and ran like a brand new machine. I looked at Melissa
with a smirk and raised my shoulders.
She made sure I learned my lesson by saying, “You said it was
going to take a hundred pulls before it started. You got what
you asked for.”
I was too tired to respond, but in my head I saw the evening news headline,
“Man Chases Wife Through Kennebunkport With Snowblower.”
Question In The Paranormal Field
What a lot of
people don’t know about those who work in the paranormal field,
for lack of a better term, is that we deal with a stigma that
surrounds this vocation. I’m an afterlife investigator and
psychic medium researcher, which you might think is a fascinating
line of work—and it is—but anyone who works with spirits,
spirit communication or the spirit world will tell you that many
people get uncomfortable at the mere thought of these subjects.
One of the most
dreaded questions of people who work in this paranormal field is,
“What do you do for a living?” Of course, I’m talking about
dealing with everyday people in ordinary life. If you’re at a
Hay House “I Can Do It” conference, that’s a different
story. In that venue, the afterlife is a natural conversation. But
when talking to people in your home town, it’s often easier just
to avoid the question than it is to say you’re a psychic medium,
past-life regressionist or energy healer.
In my experience, some people
don’t know how to talk about death and the afterlife, because
our culture doesn’t prepare for us for the dialogue. Others
prefer not to talk about it because they think it’s going to
invite death closer into their lives. And, still, others have all
sorts of religious beliefs around it—often misinterpreted—that
lead them to think anyone who works in this field is dealing with
realms that should be left unspoken and untouched.
I’ve found that
the stigma surrounding any subject is diminished by the mere act
of talking about it. My first book was about mental illness,
mainly clinical depression. I wrote it in the 1990s when most
people were afraid to tell anyone they were taking an
antidepressant. When my book got published and I began speaking to
support groups about it, I was surprised at how many people told
me that no one knew about their struggle with depression,
including their spouses, children and closest friends. They said
they were afraid their family members and friends wouldn’t
understand it and might even reject them for taking a medication.
of the key messages in my lectures was to encourage depression
sufferers to talk about their struggles with loved ones. I
recognized early on that depression sufferers had family and
friends who were also depressed, yet everyone was keeping it a
secret, so they were unable to support one another. The more I
talked to people about depression, the more it became clear that
the biggest culprit keeping the stigma of depression alive was
that nobody was talking about it. And that was soon proven true,
because today a lot more people are open to discussing their
depression and the treatments they take for it.
More than a
decade later, I found myself encouraging people to talk about
death and the afterlife for the same reason. So many of us are
curious about life after death, yet so few of us dare to initiate
a conversation about it. That said, I know from personal
experience that it’s not always easy. I too feel the stigma, as
I mentioned earlier, so I’ve had to make a conscious effort to
look the stigma in the eye and follow my own advice. It’s easy
when I’m around like-minded people who work in the
Mind/Body/Spirit field. But it’s a different situation
altogether when dealing with mainstream people who have no
interest and don’t work in these fields.
This past summer,
a couple from town named Peter and Denise invited Melissa and me
to a dinner party. We didn’t know them well, but we had mutual
friends, so we somehow got on their invitation list. I wasn’t
sure how much they knew about my work with psychic mediums and the
afterlife, and I was sure that the other guests knew nothing about
it, so I was hoping I could escape that inevitable question,
“What do you do for a living?”
It was a warm
summer evening as Melissa and I walked up to Peter and Denise’s
home overlooking the ocean. They had the most beautiful gardens on
every side of the house. Upon entering, there were three other
couples in the living room, plus our hosts. We were introduced to
everyone, a lovely bunch of people, and we got to know one another
while snacking on appetizers and sipping wine.
When we moved
into the dining room for dinner, I ended up sitting on one end of
the long, rectangular dining room table. It was the only chair
left unoccupied. Melissa sat to my right. Denise sat to my left.
And Peter sat at the opposite end of the table, what seemed to be
a million miles away. Consequently, everyone at the table heard
Peter when he shouted to me, “So, Bob, what do you do for
All nine faces at
the table turned to me and the room went silent waiting for my
answer. I buckled a little under the pressure.
For years, I was
able to tell strangers that I worked as a ghostwriter, because
that’s how I had earned my living. But I stopped working as a
ghostwriter a few months prior, so I couldn’t fall back on that
“Oh, it’s a
long story. You really don’t want to hear it,” I told Peter,
hoping he’d let it go.
No longer needing
to shout, since the room was now very quiet, Peter replied, “No,
I’m interested. Do tell, no matter how long the story is.”
I had no choice
but to tell the whole group my story, so I surrendered knowing
that I really shouldn’t care what these people thought of me.
After all, I’m proud of the work I do and my efforts help a lot
of people. So I took a deep breath and told my tale.
I told the story
of how my father passed in 1997, which got me thinking about life
after death for the first time. I explained how I used my skills
as a private investigator to investigate evidence of an afterlife;
and how after two years of investigating without success, I had my
first reading with a psychic medium. I told them how the evidence
in that reading broke through my skepticism and changed the course
of my life. This eventually led me to create OfSpirit.com
Magazine, BestPsychicMediums.com and BestPsychicDirectory.com. I
told them about my experiences getting three past-life
regressions, interviewing people with near-death experiences, and
talking with children who recalled memories of past lives.
When my story
ended, all eyes were wide open and locked on me, but the room was
completely silent. I said to Peter with a smile on my face,
“I’ll bet you’re sorry you asked now.”
Peter, sweet man
that he is, said, “Are you kidding? That’s the most
interesting story I’ve ever heard. I’m thrilled that I
asked.” And he seemed genuinely sincere.
immediately ensued from some of the guests while others remained
quiet. But the group kept the conversation going for another half
hour, at least. A couple guests shared their own mystical stories
with the group while private stories were being told off to the
side. Eventually we moved on to other conversations, for which I
was grateful. I really didn’t want the rest of the evening to be
consumed by talk about the spirit world. Nonetheless, I felt
liberated to have told this group of strangers what I do for work
and have survived it unscathed.
As everyone was
leaving, a woman named Peggy walked up to Peter as she put her
jacket on and said, “Geez, Peter, you sure have some colorful
friends.” Melissa and I were walking up beside Peggy just as she
said it, and Peter looked at me as we all burst out laughing.
Then, as we left and walked to our cars, Peggy couldn’t wait to
tell Melissa and me a story about seeing the spirit of her
father-in-law after he had passed.
Peggy admitted to
waiting until we left the group to share her story with us. She
said she was too embarrassed to share it with everyone. Melissa
and I understood, of course. She seemed relieved to have people
who finally believed her. Her husband apparently didn’t believe
because, as she told her story, he got into the car and waited for
her inside it. He seemed perturbed that she was telling the story
to us. I looked at his expression through the windshield and could
tell he was hoping we wouldn’t encourage her. I chuckled to
myself knowing he was going to be disappointed.
I realized at
that moment that it’s people like Peggy who need people like me
to tell my story, because it opens up the conversation for them to
share their own stories—stories they’ve held inside for years
because they felt no one would ever believe them. I’m talking
about people who have had deceased loved ones visit them in a
dream (called Dream Visitations), people who have witnessed a
dying loved one seeing spirits welcoming them home (called
Deathbed Visions), and people who have died on the surgery table,
or in a car accident, and come back to life to tell about their
temporary visit to the spirit world (called Near-Death
These stories and
so many more are being kept secret by millions the world over, and
it’s all because we’re reluctant to tell anyone about them for
fear of ridicule. If we would just realize that we’re not alone
in our paranormal experiences, we would quickly learn that others
are having similar experiences, too.
PS, I write my
stories about spirits, spirit communication and the spirit world,
and people the world over email me to tell me about their own
personal experiences. How nice it would be if we had groups
similar to book clubs or support groups where people could share
their stories with one another and talk about the afterlife, past
lives, after-death communications, out of body experiences,
near-death experiences, deathbed visions, dream visitations, and
children’s memories of past lives, to name just a few.
If this is
something that interests you, please let me know by email (firstname.lastname@example.org),
as I’ve considered creating and organizing these types of groups
around the country and possibly the world. Still, don’t wait for
me to do it. I encourage you to start your own local group and
tell me how it goes.