Psychic Love Bubble

If you have more than one person with high psychic energy in the same room, you can create a psychic love bubble. My cousin and I dubbed it that one afternoon, as we lay under a blanket on my bedroom floor in a complete state of bliss. We are both Empathic and transfer energy to one another easily. Her psychic energy literally makes the portal between worlds non-existent for me. As in, I have more ghostly activity when I’m standing next to her, than I ever do otherwise.

I’ve met a few other people in my life who’s energy pushes me over the top, and others who drench my natural abilities in realist energy (dims my abilities/light). These people, the ones who activate me, are my Angels and my saving grace in a world where I often feel as if I must hide.

A small group of old souls and artists, the beneath the radar type of kind souls and caring people who sometimes feel the world is not designed for them, gathered together to seek out art and adventure last night. We perused galleries, admired the art, walked past the homeless shelter on Angel Road (RIO GRANDE) and enthusiastically co-dreamed of the day we would have a booming and thriving non-profit in Bella Life. Then we gathered beneath the stars, on a case of stone stairs near a cemetery, ate pizza and talked about life and the paranormal worlds we fear telling strangers about.

I have felt alone for so long in a world all my own, that it still surprises me when people I know share their own experiences about Awakening, or having been awakened and alone since they were children.

Last night was full of ghostly activity, beginning at the antique museum in downtown Salt Lake, and ending with us leaving a very friendly ghost woman from the 1800’s waving goodbye to us in my minds eye.


The energy can become stifling after a while. These antiques each carry their own ancient energetic imprint, and sometimes that of their now long deceased owners. Put all of these items together in one building and you have one nauseous psychic by the end of the whole tour. More than one of us had to leave, no questions asked.

Upstairs in one of the hidden rooms that is kept dimly lit up, where we’ve bumped into “bad energy” before, is a very proud noble man of some kind. A King? His energy was attached to a set of hand carved wooden closets pushed to the back of the room, not currently on display. He was a cheerful host, his arms on his sides, in a stance of great pride over his valuables.

There was an older woman, a librarian type or old school marm who was more than happy to give us a tour, as long as we didn’t take pictures. I made the mistake of snapping a photo after she’d kindly warned me not to, and her energy became dark but not malevolent. She waved her finger at me, and said “give it back.” I deleted a few pictures. I got the feeling that either some of her own objects were in an upstairs room, or some of the objects she’d shown others on tour of a museum she’d once worked in, were.

At one room all of us agreed whatever was inside that room, didn’t wish for us to enter it. I stepped into the door frame and picked up the energy of someone who wasn’t angry at us, but protective of whatever was inside the room. I scanned the room, but couldn’t locate exactly what she was protecting. Her energy wasn’t demanding that we not enter, but pleading for us to reconsider, like “you can come in if you want, but I’d just rather you didn’t.”


Often my light combined with another’s light will draw in more than one ghost. As we left the stairs near the cemetery we left behind a group of spirits who’d come to see what the activity they were sensing was. I wonder what that dimension is like, and if we are ghost to them. It would make sense.

A woman from another century, wearing a pretty blouse and long skirt all the way down to her ankles, connected to me. She began to sort of dance around me, asking “Can I help you?” She genuinely wanted to help me in some way if she could. In my minds eye I saw her standing behind a small picket fence, the sun shining down VERY brightly on her, welcoming me into her yard.

Again, I wonder if we are ghosts to them in another dimension and she is me in that life, sensing spirits, connecting to them, wanting to help if she can.

As I grow up I find myself wanting physical beauty or a collection of Gold less and less. Moments spent beneath the stars, connecting to like minded individuals are what my soul needs. We aren’t alone or lonely, but surrounded by confused and lost souls. And yet, we don’t need to be them.

Be the light, it’s magnetic.

Magnetic enough to draw in a entire cemetery of ghosts.










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