That house MUST be haunted
"An old house by the cemetery, surely it must be haunted, aren't you a little afraid?" Actually this house must be the least haunted and energetically inactive I've ever lived in, unless you count the persistent dog smell permeating the carpets as a malicious spirit of the past.
My childhood home was a ranch house on a concrete slab. My dad insisted that no self respecting ghost would ever choose to haunt, but I was dead-set on ghost hunting there. The walls would ominously creak and knock when I was home alone. My door knob would shake at night and I grew so fearful in that place that as a little Catholic at the time I insisted on wearing a cross at all times, my first talisman of protection. There was a persistent feeling of being watched, like someone was lurking behind you or just outside the windows.
On summer days when my friends and I were too tired of swimming in the community pool we would set up fake ghost pictures, talk to the knocking walls, offer the spirit plastic cups of sweet tea and my American Girl doll to play with. Did we ever get absolute proof of ghosts? No, we were twelve, but I didn't get proof there were none. Perhaps the ghost was a neglected household spirit, or maybe a haunted antique doll ( one of hundreds my mother loved to keep) or perhaps my Grammy saw her piano mouse eaten and unplayable, or her book collection sitting neglected.
When my partner and I moved into a little 1940's brick house meant for military housing during WWII it has seemed that the flippers would have vanished any spirits with shoddy craftsmanship and cheap paint. Yet familiar nightmares from my childhood began to return.
I'm in the house alone, there's something shadowy following me, chasing me I want to see what happens this try to scare it off with light but none of the light switches work. I'm trapped and then I wake up.
I'm no stranger to nightmares and surreal and incredibly vivid dreams, but seen things from my dreams started happening in that house. Lights would flicker or sit off for minutes before turning on, the front door would fly open in a windstorm sending a frightening crashing noise through the whole house. These could link back to the shoddy craftsmanship in the flipping of this old house, real shit electrical work and a poorly fitted door.
The shadows flitting just outside of my vision also returned. Newly armed with witchcraft and a lot less fear than I held as a child ( or so I thought) I began work on banishing whatever was haunting us. Smoke cleansing, sound cleansing, wards and airing out the house. Slowly I created an essentially spiritually barren wasteland, or so I thought.
My partner insisted that I was just harming the helpful spirits of the place and that I needed to lay off it a bit. What she admitted to me today is that the house was definitely haunted with something not so friendly, but my efforts were ineffective. Better to become more acquainted with friendly spirits than try to banish a persistent unfriendly one.
Last year we moved to our current home built in 1900, situated on a hill beside two large old cemeteries with graves dating back to the 1700's. I brought a kit with us to greet the local spirits right after we closed on the sale, plus a little statue to act as protection for the home as it would be empty for a bit. The house had been used as a rental property for about 15years, and had caught fire and sat empty for a couple in between. Every bit of charm it may have had when it was built was gone or painted over in a lovely thick coat of landlord white. And there was the dog smell, a gift from the last residents which despite multiple steam cleanings of carpets and scrubbing all the walls and ceilings still occasionally makes an appearance. I greet the home, set out an offering, tarot cards, and burn lavender.
Nothing
This house was the spiritual dead zone I had failed to create. The only energy I found was the softest quietest yearning. A need to breath. A need to be properly lived in and loved. The house spirit was there, just so neglected that she was nearly silent. I named her Nadia, strong on the hill, and I've set to work really living in this house, truly making it my home.
As for ghosts I've yet to encounter any, they seem to prefer the cemetery's big trees and the comfort of each other's company.
Many of the ghosts I've encountered were more likely swirling balls of pent up negative energy than spirits. What I've learned from moving to an old very un-haunted house is that I get to choose to change the energy, I choose to haunt my own home. Working with my partner and the house spirit to create something where we all thrive. Nadia wants to be a hostess again, shimmering lights and warm food. My partner wants to feed people, and to have walls drenched in color. I want an enveloping comfort for all who enter whether spirit, human, or animal. It's so exciting to be able to work together on this instead of fighting and fearful of spirits with little skill to handle their intrusions.
Song recommendation: Haunt this place- Small Fools
