Early on in our partnership, before I fully realized what was happening, I was perceiving John’s spirit around me. At this point, I was still thinking about him, day after day, wondering how he was doing on the other side, wondering where he was, wondering how his folks were holding up, wondering if I should go down there and offer condolences. I just couldn’t shake it. I was feeling low, like the rug had been pulled out from under me. I just couldn’t understand why this young guy kept cropping up in my immediate thoughts day after day.

As someone who has only been hysterical in fits of grief over dead pets, it was odd that I was essentially mourning someone I didn’t even know, had barely spoken five sentences to – it did not make sense to me that my consciousness was pervaded all day, and even into my dreaming state, by John. I let my mind wander, since I am also curious by nature, to the few interactions I had shared with him – one instance in particular I winced to remember that I had been an asshole to him – not because he deserved it, but because at that time in my life I was super immature and insecure and downright douche-y. Guess what? Retribution was swift, because he had been an asshole right back.

John liked to play pool. Indeed, perhaps pool was the only reason he came out to hang one night, the only interaction I had with him that I can remember. It was after work, and a few of us went for drinks. I sat next to him at one bar and we chatted for a little while. I remembered thinking, “this guy is intense.” But I liked him, despite myself.

Of course, young people can’t stay still so we ended up bar hopping until we got to the local billiard. John stayed on a pool table all night. I don’t know why I did it – I hadn’t even really been drinking – but I guess I was trying to be funny and knocked one of their balls into a corner pocket. It was one of John’s. I don’t remember if it was a stripe or a solid, but I do remember John’s reaction. He cussed me out, and I had the audacity to be shocked. But I immediately knew I had fucked up – pool wasn’t free, and this guy was clearly into it. I felt bad, but didn’t apologize. My ego immediately said, “fuck that guy.” In fact, his reaction had scared me a little to the point where I never really spoke to him ever again. I remember at work he tried a few times to interact with me, but I basically ignored him. Soon after, he quit that job, and I didn’t really think about him again.

Fast forward two months after John’s death. I have an uncontrollable urge to play pool. I was never really that into pool. I had played some as a child, so the nostalgia was there, but I was never particularly good at pool. I am not one to be into things I am no good at – the same goes for bowling and beer pong.

I also don’t like being in bars. And I definitely didn’t smoke cigarettes. But for some reason, I found myself drawn to all of these things. So I ended up at the local billiards, John’s old hangout. It was a busy night, and all of the pool tables were taken. I expressed interest to my group that I wanted to get on the waiting list, and only one guy from my group wanted to play. Instantly, there was a table available. We were able to play right away.

I didn’t understand what was happening then, but I realized later that John was there, waiting for me. His face kept flashing across my mind. I was brimming with energy, and had never felt like that before. It felt almost like I was on drugs, but I hadn’t taken any and had barely finished my first beer by this point. I didn’t feel out of control. I just felt – well – alive! I played the best round of pool I probably ever had that night, and not because I was skillful, but because I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Oddly enough, the next day I found a picture of him on social media – playing pool, not the night he cussed me, but on a different night. He was concentrating on lining up his shot. This guy loved it and took it seriously.

I didn’t know then why his presence made me want to experience certain things, like drinking Irish Car Bombs or playing pool, but I understand it now that I was in the process of integrating with his spirit so that we could clearly communicate. I understand that it is a natural process that needs to take place before positive contact is made, before ideas and words and feelings can be shared. This is when things started to get much better for me. I asked, “Are you really real?” The answer came to me just like most of the other answers come, when I was least expecting it.

Admittedly, I had a difficult time suspending my disbelief enough in order to let John come through. My mind told me every day that I must be just making it up. Or that my guilt over being an asshole to him was causing me to beat myself up. I thought I was going crazy at times. This caused a barrier to be set up, one in which I had help from John breaking through. John taught me to believe in possibilities. But ultimately, it was up to me. I chose to become a channel for John, and I am not sorry I did.

This is John’s first message to me. It came to me as I was writing in my journal. I remember having a particularly low day. I wrote the sentence, “Fortunately, we are not in control.” But I didn’t know what else to write. I was about to put it up. Suddenly, ideas were coming to my mind. Words. Sentences. I started writing without thinking, as if I were merely an observer, not the creator of these words. I didn’t stop to read it until I was done, until the ideas ceased to flow. I consider this John’s first “interruption” and my very first experience channeling via automatic writing. I did not know what automatic writing was before this and was very surprised to find out later that this was a method used to communicate with the other side. I was claircognizant and didn’t even know it. I was using abilities without being aware that I even had them. John’s spirit was interacting with my auric field and sending information into my “channel,” which is also known as the crown chakra. But we will delve more into that later. For now, what follows is our very first channeling session.

You must have faith. You need to cease compartmentalizing everything. See, even that word is exhausting, not to mention tedious for your brain power.

You cannot think your way out of things, you must feel your way.

When things that we perceive as unfortunate happen to us, we can question why things went wrong, and not just on a mechanical, practical scale, but we can begin to feel regret, guilt or embarrassment from what we perceive should have or shouldn’t have happened. We believe it is a test or karma – which only gives it power over you. Shit happens, and then it is over. The only thing you can control about any of these bad events or unfortunate timing is your thoughts and specifically, your actions regarding the situation at hand.

Do the best you can, but know that the best option is to let go and trust that a resolution will be made or choose to learn lessons from the hardship. Both methods in conjunction yield positive results. Trust.


And it just kept going from there …


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