When Spirits Are Angry…

when a spirit got mad at me…

This is an unusual post, because it speaks about dark moments of spirit communication. Avoiding negativity, great masters prefer speak about positive side of spirit communication. Lately, I uploaded to Kindle new manuscript Weaved From Errors of My Ancestors. Spirits of my ancestors had mercy on me, and never crossed the boarders of our standards of politeness. But spirits whom I managed to attract into my life did. They were Russian spirits, I have no idea how I managed to annoy them. They left their… feces on floor, chairs, table and on my bed. I had to wash my apartment and bed. Should I talk about it publicly? After weighing the pros and cons, I decided to talk.

I will start from the evening, my nephew’s birthday party, where, at the end of it, sipping the last cup of coffee, I shared my story with relatives. Their reaction strengthened my confidence that it was necessary to write about the shadowy sides of communication with the world of spirits, as only the rosy tones of talk create wrong impression of what may wait us when it would our turn to say goodbye to friends on earth and move on to the next world.

It is believed that all Russians drink much. Not all! At our family gathering of young and old, alcoholic beverages were not consumed fervently; if we have sinned, then it was overeating of tasty food, which distinguishes Russian feasts in the American diaspora. When we were finally done with Ribeye tenderloin, fish of various varieties, colors, and types of cooking, and Happy Birthday was sang, and the kids had their moment putting out the candles on a luxurious cake and we had had our black coffee to withstand the pressure of the delicacies, and old people turned on their favorite Moscow show based on the ever-living memories of Moscow popular show “Blue Lights”, from which the kids washed off to their computers, and I, finally ventured to start my risky story about an unpleasant encounter with spirit world. I knew that none of my relatives, of course, did not believe in spirits. They simply tolerated my mediumship, as a kind of strangeness, and as I am old, that strangeness was forgiven to me.

As a medium, I hear the dead and can also talk with them as I would speak to you. My relatives consider this gift a nature’s mistake. But today, I had a rare trump card in my hands, the material proof of spirits’ existence, so I could not refrain from talking. If “hearing voices” is marred by suspicion of schizophrenia or hallucination, then reading the signs left by the spirits in my apartment did not require any supernatural qualities like clairvoyance or clairaudience -– as normal vision and average perception of smell would be sufficient to see these signs.

“Do you remember Lenochka from Leningrad, the clairvoyant who stayed with us when she came to Tallinn?” I asked my nephew. — “Of course, I remember!”– replied Vladimir.

I continued my story. She died homeless on the streets of Moscow. She told me that at that time, in the eighties, they opened her vision channel with helps of drugs. In the 80’s , it seemed OK. However, soon Lenochka became addicted to heroin, found herself homeless on the Moscow streets, and died early from an overdose. As it was predicted in the years ago during perestroika, her spirit found me in Los Angeles, settled in my aura, everything was nice and quiet, but once Lenochka  got mad at me.

Relatives pricked up, and I told them how once, when I came home, I felt a strange smell in the apartment – reminiscent of the smell and color of infantile excrement, or feces. Its color was yellowish or light brown. Size was most likely tenth or fifteenth of human feces. Beige stains covered the floor around the dining table, and “decorated” chairs.

In the bedroom, the peculiar smell was nauseous. My bed was not done, it was “open,” and the sheets, blankets, bedspreads on the edge of the bed and the floor of my small bedroom were littered with small piles of feces that the spirits had produced. Spirit of Lenochka could not do it alone. she had to have help from other girls who nested in a Russian celebrity’s cove in my aura. I talked to them asking where were their brains and feel of decency, when they did what they were told to do – to kaki in another person’s bed.  I asked where they were coming from, and why they were dead at so young age? Did they ODed?  Their answer was more shocking than the poop in my apartment. The young girls, told that their parents, in need for money, sold them to the local bordellos. They told that they were afraid of Lenochka, the celeb’s girlfriend, their “boss”, and they do not know anything, and they do what they were told to do.

Cleaning up my apartment took a lot of my time. The hardest thing was to wash the bed, because I had to wash everything from blankets to pillows, comforters and mattress bedding – thank God I used those.

But the matter did not end there. I had to wash all the bed linen from the “spiritual” poop five times, as Lenochka was still annoyed by me. And the pooping incident was repeated five times, before destiny had mercy on me and Lenochka and her company disappeared from my aura.

I am at age 85. It was physically difficult for me to make the bed right after I had just reset it. But Lenochka did not sober, and did not come to herself. It turns out that healing the drug addiction in the astral world is 100 times more difficult than on the earth …This would have to be written and spoken loudly, because one day we will all be there. And I heard about the tragic stories of the spirits’ hopeless struggles with this kind of dependencies.

I was almost done with my story, when an elder gentleman, let call him Venia interrupted my speech.  He peered at me with frightened, wide-open eyes, and asked: “Did you saw it all in your dream? It came to you in your dream?!”

— No, Venia, it was not a dream. It was difficult to wash it, it was unpleasant to wash the floor, I threw the floor cloths into dumpster. …

The ladies were silent. A gentleman poured himself a brandy and downed it without toasts or comments. 

And I understood it does not matter how strongly a person would deny God, the subtle world, and the existence of spirits, somewhere in the depths of the soul, he knows that this is true, the subtle world exists, and the day will come, when we will meet our Maker and have to stand there and being judged.

I think that forgetting our stay in the astral world between rebirths is given for a reason. Firstly, not seeing and not hearing spirits precludes direct communication and this inability to communicate offers the most powerful protection from the spirits, which is very important, especially protection from the evil, negative-minded spirits, capable of causing considerable evil to folks on earth.

And, wait a minute! In many cultures, the honoring spirits of the dead with food, left for them, is a common tradition… It is assumed that spirits eat! But if they eat, they have to poop! In other words, astral body is a material thing, and subtle world is as real and dreamy as our world… Sorry atheists, spirits are real!

But this is a different topic, which is worth talking about separately.

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