way. Prayer was more for giving gratitude, and dreams were too confusing. And forget channeling—after my scary experience with a haunted witch ball, I wasn’t going to risk channeling an unknown spirit.
Some psychics could find answers in tarot cards, tea leaves, or even chicken bones, but I was still getting used to my psychic skills—like learning to ride a bike and wobbling on training wheels. While I understood concepts like astral travel (traveling in spirit form while your body sleeps) I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Still it couldn’t be that hard to make a quick trip over to the other side. I’d had a few experiences leaving my physical body and meeting spirits in neutral planes. I hadn’t gone all the way to the other side, but I’d gotten close. Each time it just kind of happened. Could I make it happen on purpose?
One way to find out …
I tried to remember what I’d heard about astral travel. First I needed to lie in a relaxed position and free my mind of earthly weight. Easier said than done! I closed my eyes and struggled to release negative thoughts.
Don’t think of Jade or the vandal or Nona’s illness, I told myself. Visualize a wonderful, safe place on the other side.
An image came to mind of a beautiful room bordered with colorful murals and comfy pillows scattered around a plush carpet as colorful as a field of wild flowers. A large picture window with an amazing view of a perfect green-blue ocean was open so I could hear the sweet lull of whispering waves. Complete peace and beauty, a place where there were no worries.
Concentrating hard, I abandoned gravity and sailed away like an ocean breeze. I was filled with such a joyful sense of freedom. I wasn’t chained to a body, no longer weighed down by humanity. Lifting up, up, up, I floated to an edge of a steep cliff, as if pushing myself to make a choice to stay or go.
I chose “go,” and I leaped forward. Instead of falling, I was flying! There were blurred places I didn’t know and dizzy images of shapes and others like me flying in soul. To stay focused, I thought of Nona losing her keys, Velvet’s smashed candy shop, and a red-haired rag doll pierced with a knife.
There was a lurching sensation, as if I was tethered by a rope and jerked in a new direction; I swirled through air so fast I couldn’t think or feel anything except rushing movement. A high-pitched static surrounded me like a giant beehive. Then my momentum changed—spiraling downward, spinning and whirling, aiming right toward a solid wall. Only it wasn’t solid—or maybe I was the one without substance. Buoyed with curiosity, I slipped through the wall like vapor and hovered high in a ceiling above someone sleeping in a bed.
Everything slowed, as if time hit a “pause” button, allowing my mind a chance to catch up with my senses.
I was in a bedroom, weightless and lacking a solid body, floating above a girl whose head was half-covered under a pillow.
Wow, this was cool—but scary, too. What if I was trapped in spirit and could never return to myself? I should go before it’s too late. Yet I kept watching the girl, fascinated by the faint rise and fall of her breathing. Such a familiar face … as if I looked at it every day in the mirror. Could she be me? Had I traveled so far only to arrive back at the same spot? How strange to be down there and also up here floating in the ceiling.
Except the room didn’t look familiar—and there was no comforting glow from a night-light. So I had to be somewhere else, and the sleeper was someone else, too. She made a soft breathy sound, flinging an arm out and turning on her other side. The abrupt movement caused a pillow and cloth doll to tumble off the bed, landing down in shadows on a soft carpet. I could see the girl’s face now, and she did look like me, except the curl that fell across her cheek was red.
Not blond.
Startled, something seemed to snap my essence through the ceiling. Quicker than a thought,
Some psychics could find answers in tarot cards, tea leaves, or even chicken bones, but I was still getting used to my psychic skills—like learning to ride a bike and wobbling on training wheels. While I understood concepts like astral travel (traveling in spirit form while your body sleeps) I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Still it couldn’t be that hard to make a quick trip over to the other side. I’d had a few experiences leaving my physical body and meeting spirits in neutral planes. I hadn’t gone all the way to the other side, but I’d gotten close. Each time it just kind of happened. Could I make it happen on purpose?
One way to find out …
I tried to remember what I’d heard about astral travel. First I needed to lie in a relaxed position and free my mind of earthly weight. Easier said than done! I closed my eyes and struggled to release negative thoughts.
Don’t think of Jade or the vandal or Nona’s illness, I told myself. Visualize a wonderful, safe place on the other side.
An image came to mind of a beautiful room bordered with colorful murals and comfy pillows scattered around a plush carpet as colorful as a field of wild flowers. A large picture window with an amazing view of a perfect green-blue ocean was open so I could hear the sweet lull of whispering waves. Complete peace and beauty, a place where there were no worries.
Concentrating hard, I abandoned gravity and sailed away like an ocean breeze. I was filled with such a joyful sense of freedom. I wasn’t chained to a body, no longer weighed down by humanity. Lifting up, up, up, I floated to an edge of a steep cliff, as if pushing myself to make a choice to stay or go.
I chose “go,” and I leaped forward. Instead of falling, I was flying! There were blurred places I didn’t know and dizzy images of shapes and others like me flying in soul. To stay focused, I thought of Nona losing her keys, Velvet’s smashed candy shop, and a red-haired rag doll pierced with a knife.
There was a lurching sensation, as if I was tethered by a rope and jerked in a new direction; I swirled through air so fast I couldn’t think or feel anything except rushing movement. A high-pitched static surrounded me like a giant beehive. Then my momentum changed—spiraling downward, spinning and whirling, aiming right toward a solid wall. Only it wasn’t solid—or maybe I was the one without substance. Buoyed with curiosity, I slipped through the wall like vapor and hovered high in a ceiling above someone sleeping in a bed.
Everything slowed, as if time hit a “pause” button, allowing my mind a chance to catch up with my senses.
I was in a bedroom, weightless and lacking a solid body, floating above a girl whose head was half-covered under a pillow.
Wow, this was cool—but scary, too. What if I was trapped in spirit and could never return to myself? I should go before it’s too late. Yet I kept watching the girl, fascinated by the faint rise and fall of her breathing. Such a familiar face … as if I looked at it every day in the mirror. Could she be me? Had I traveled so far only to arrive back at the same spot? How strange to be down there and also up here floating in the ceiling.
Except the room didn’t look familiar—and there was no comforting glow from a night-light. So I had to be somewhere else, and the sleeper was someone else, too. She made a soft breathy sound, flinging an arm out and turning on her other side. The abrupt movement caused a pillow and cloth doll to tumble off the bed, landing down in shadows on a soft carpet. I could see the girl’s face now, and she did look like me, except the curl that fell across her cheek was red.
Not blond.
Startled, something seemed to snap my essence through the ceiling. Quicker than a thought,
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