A Night Visitor

(A lesson in self-protection)

I’m used to spirits of the dead turning up in my space. Most often it’s my own dear departed, particularly (but not only) my late husband Andrew, popping in to see how I’m doing, or responding to a call from me — which might be a yell for help, but more often just that I’m thinking of that person and missing them.

(Less often nowadays, but commonplace in the past) I’ve been a conduit for lost spirits needing to find their way home to the Light — a ‘clearing house’, as one psychic described me. I know how to clear whatever is holding them up and send them on, swift and straight, in the right direction. (Perhaps they have found a more sympathetic helper now. It got to the point where there were so many, and I became so blasé about it, that if I was busy writing a poem, or having a conversation with a living person, I would say — telepathically and brusquely — ‘ Not now! Later.’ That later, I’m ashamed to say, could be a long time coming.)

I have protection in place, and tools and guardians I can also call on if needed. On the rare occasions I sense a negative energy, it’s quickly blocked. So I was more puzzled than worried when an unknown being emanating extreme cold came up behind me in my kitchen the other night. For quite other reasons, I hate the cold; but I also know that cold associated with ghosts is not necessarily sinister. It simply means they’ve been dead a long time: the longer, the colder. 

All the same, I got a little spooked. I had a sense that this one wanted to enter into me, merge with me in some way. I wasn’t having that! The feeling of the energy was a little like a sexual predator — wanting control; prepared to commit intrusion, violation — and likely to be sneaky rather than brutal. Even so, I could have chosen to engage in a dialogue, find out their purpose and reasons, help them resolve the underlying cause and move on in Love, towards the Light. This has worked in the past, even with formidable entities. But this time I didn’t want to engage. 

I called on my angels. Nothing changed. Maybe this was a friend after all? Or else an unusually powerful threat? Either way, I wasn’t in the mood. I recited, in thought, some protective mantras I know. I visualised shields. No physical actions, nothing spoken aloud. I felt that, for some reason, I should be sneaky too, not overt about my awareness or protective measures. 

I sensed it right up close at my back. Casting about for something else to do, I recalled some ways of being that I aspire to: honesty, integrity, loyalty, respect.... I began, almost instinctively, declaring in my mind, ‘I stand in honesty, I stand in integrity....’ Then I gathered them under an overall label: ‘I stand in honour.’ It's not a thing I'd ever done before as a protection ritual. I think I was more shoring up my courage.  My mind was still stumbling around, trying to find the best thing to say, the thing that would work. I didn’t realise until later, looking back, that the intruder had already halted. I found more qualities to invoke. ‘I stand in peace, I stand in joy, I stand in strength, I stand in my courage.’ I wanted to assert, ‘I stand in my power,’ but was afraid that could be interpreted as a challenge, that the entity might respond with some version of, ‘Oh yeah? Go on, show me.’ I didn’t want to entrap myself in a battle. I kept searching through various phrases, clutching hastily at whatever virtue popped into my head. Serenity, determination, authenticity.... Suddenly it all solidified into a statement that settled in my heart, calming me. I spoke it aloud: ‘I stand in my truth.’

I liked it. I breathed easier. I repeated it aloud several times — not aggressively but with certainty. Even with a kind of gladness. 

(Could I have articulated the specifics of ‘my truth’ if I’d been asked? It was more a sense that I would know it in any situation, I could rely on it absolutely, and it would always guide me.)

I went about my usual activities, no longer feeling threatened, although still shaken by the experience. Gradually the evening settled back into normality. I wasn’t afraid. I almost forgot that any of it had happened.

Next morning, recalling it all, I renewed my self-dedication to ‘Love, Peace and Truth’, which I had let lapse for some time. To me, those are the universal essentials. They are also qualities I can align with in my intention for the day, taking them as my own on a personal level while continuing to trust them as the essence of the Divine. Surely this practice, this daily renewal, is my very best protection?

What if that cold energy invading my space was not so much a threat as a test? Or it might have been a manifestation of some self-doubts and deep self-questioning that had assailed me recently. The Universe has a way of giving us exactly what we need.

It is wonderful to me that the thing which grounded, centred, empowered and freed me was finally to stand in my own truth.