Confessions of a Para-Normal – The Bay Leaf Incident

  The Bay Leaf Incident
by Caryn Moya Block
In October of 2011, my husband and I visited the Cashtown Inn near Gettysburg, PA for lunch. We had read about a ghost hunting weekend with Mark and Carol Nesbitt at the inn the following March of 2012 and wanted to sign up. If you don’t know about the Cashtown Inn, it was used by Confederate forces as a headquarters during the Battle of Gettysburg and is reported to be haunted.
My husband and I had joined a local ghost hunting group here in Culpeper County a couple of times in the past, when they did some investigating at the Graffiti House, a pre-civil war era house. We had caught some EVP’s on our digital recorder during those investigations, the sound of someone walking and a disembodied voice. So we were excited to go on a hunt with Mark Nesbitt, known as the expert on ghosts in Gettysburg.
When we walked into the inn, we entered a small sitting room. No one was present and there was no desk or bell to ring for help. I had no idea how we were going to sign up if no one was available to take our reservation and deposit.
The fees for the weekend were not cheap, and I decided that if no one was around, I would just drop the whole idea and leave quietly after lunch. So we went into the bar and ordered lunch. I wanted to try the French Onion Soup. My husband and I had tried the King’s Soup at the Historic 1776 Dobbin House Tavern in Gettysburg and loved it. I was curious to see what the Cashtown Inn soup would be like. We sat down and Crystal, our waitress took our order.
Some of you may not know this, but I am a Reiki Master and Theta Healer. One of my friends, who is also a Reiki Master, lives near Gettysburg and I often visit with her while my husband enjoys his Civil War tours. That fact will be important in a moment.
Our soup was brought to the table and I dived in with gusto. If you don’t know about French Onion Soup, it is often served covered in melted cheese and has a piece of bread at the bottom. I took several spoonful’s when my spoon discovered a bay leaf.
I didn’t find that surprising. I figured the cook just missed the leaf when he served up my soup. I put the leaf aside and continued to eat. After a few more spoonful’s, I discovered another bay leaf. Once more, I put the leaf aside and went back to eating.
Now this was not a large bowl of soup. The contents couldn’t have held much more than a cup of broth. So the third time I pulled a bay leaf from my bowl, I decided that more was going on than just bay leaves in soup.
I pulled out my cell phone and called my friend, the Reiki Master, and asked if she would look up the metaphysical properties of Bay leaves. The Universe was delivering a message and I needed to know what it was about.
She obliged me and reported that Bay leaves were used in Laurel wreaths, a reflection of honor. The herb was associated with Apollo and the Oracle of Delphi where the oil was used for divination and mediumship.
Then my friend looked up the Greek god Apollo. If I was looking for proof that the message was for me, I found it when she told me that Apollo was known as Lukēgenēs, literally “born of a wolf”. Don’t forget that I write Werewolf Romance books, but there was more. Apollo was connected to the muses and was the patron God of music, poetry, art, oracles, archery, plague, medicine, sun, light and knowledge.
Finally, my friend said she thought I needed to change what I was thinking. Moments before, I was thinking of leaving without paying the deposit for the ghost hunting weekend. It appeared that the spirits of the Cashtown Inn were offering an invitation to visit.
Needless to say, after we finished eating, I made the reservation. Crystal, our waitress, watched the whole event transpire and said she had never seen anyone pull bay leaves out of the French Onion Soup before.
After our ghost hunting weekend in March 2012, I can truthfully say the Cashtown Inn is haunted. But that is another story.

Confessions of a Para-Normal – My first ghost.

supermoon 6 22 2013 054 Confessions of a Para-Normal – My first ghost

by Caryn Moya Block

I saw my first ghost when I was three years old. Since that time, I have seen several ghosts, some with my eyes and some with my inner eye. This one I saw with my eyes.
I was a precocious three year old and I loved to sleep with my parents. They of course preferred me sleeping in my own bed in my room down the hall. The house was fairly small and sat on top of a hill in Los Angeles, California. It has since been torn down and made into a parking lot.
Anyway, back to my story. I have no idea what time it was, only that it was night and I had been sleeping for a while. I woke up and saw a woman with dark hair in a white night gown pass by my room carrying something in her hand. I believed it to be a cup.
I immediately thought that it was my mother on her way to the kitchen. Remember I said I was precocious. I pictured her making the turn into the living room and straight through to the dining room and then turning into the kitchen.
I figured if I went in and got into my parent’s bed while my mother was busy in the kitchen, she would let me stay in their bed with them for the rest of the night. I would pretend that I was asleep when she returned and mom wouldn’t want to wake me.
So, I quickly scurried into my parent’s room, only my mother and father were still in bed asleep. I couldn’t understand how this was possible. I woke my mother up and asked her who the woman was who walked into the kitchen? My father immediately got up to see if someone was in the house while my mother let me into the bed with them.
My father returned and said no one was there. But I was insistent. I knew I saw a woman walk by my door. I saw her long white gown clearly. I had to be awake because I then came into my parent’s room. My parent’s assured me there was no one in the house.
It was important to me that they believed me. I knew I had seen something. I’m not sure how the idea of it being a ghost came up, whether I suggested it or my parents did. My father finally told me it must have been a reflection from the Television set in the house across the street. Now even to a three year old, that excuse sounded lame, especially since our house rose above the one across the street, because we were on a hill.
I never forgot that night. I’m not sure if it was because I saw my first ghost, or because I caught my parents in a lie. But I can still see that wavering form walking past my doorway in the hall. My parents were probably freaked out. Not because I had seen a ghost, though they probably worried about their daughter seeing something like that so young. But because the psychic experiences were starting for me so early. Both of my parents have had things happen to them that could only be described as paranormal, but at three years old, I didn’t know that. In fact, I was a teenager and many more things had taken place before they confessed some of their own experiences to me.
I hope you enjoyed this confession of the sighting of my first ghost. No, I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t know I should be. To tell the truth, now ghosts kind of scare me. Not always, but I have continued to have experiences with them and not always pleasant ones. I don’t mind interacting with them as long as they are polite and don’t try and take over my life. I really don’t have time to spend dealing with their problems, but an occasional conversation is fine.
I’m not sure what the order of the stories should be. I can remember the more current ones easiest. But I will let the higher powers point me in the direction they feel is necessary. So stay tuned for the next “Confession of a Para-Normal” For now, I need to finish my next lycan book. Esme and Jared, here I come…

Confessions of a Para-Normal – The Burning Bush

1010121816cThe Burning Bush
by Caryn Moya Block

I don’t know about you, but when I pray, I ask for a burning bush, so I won’t miss the message. I have a tendency to be a “doubting Thomas” and need a lot of proof before my eyes can be opened. I wouldn’t be writing this post if I didn’t get “my burning bush” between April 14th and April 25th of 2014.

It started with a reading I received from a lady who channeled Arch Angel Michael. The reading was part of a package I purchased online after listening to this lady speak on a webinar. I actually wanted the books and mp3’s in the package and didn’t think much about the reading until I got a call from the lady’s assistant. She wanted to set up a time for me to call in. The day she offered was April 14th, which is my birthday. I thought “Why not” and set up the appointment.

During the reading Arch Angel Michael suggested that I do some non-fiction writing. Maybe “how to books” on oils or stones and their metaphysical properties. Even though I am a communicator, I am first and foremost a healer and teacher. The Angel thought it was important that I returned to my main purpose in this lifetime. This isn’t the first time this message has come through. For the last two years or so it has been suggested that I needed to write about my “Para-Normal” psychic experiences. When I say suggested, I mean from other psychics and healers who are friends.

Needless to say, I have been dragging my feet. I didn’t want to put this information out into the world. I was afraid to be labeled as a “Freak” or “that Woowoo person”. Some people can be cruel and I didn’t want to spotlight my differences from the normal. The only thing I was brave enough to do, was to put in my bio that I saw my first ghost at age three. But let’s get back to that burning bush.

I flew out to Idaho on April 16th to visit my mother and father. On Easter Sunday, April 20th, I sent a text to my husband’s aunt in Arizona that said: Happy Easter, Christ has risen. She answered with the obligatory reply: Happy Easter, He has risen indeed. Nothing strange in that, (Yet).

Off I went to my mother’s church to see people I used to know over sixteen years ago. I was so surprised when they not only recognized me but welcomed me with open arms like I had never left. (I have this tendency of being invisible and easily forgotten by most people.)

After church, I got a message through Twitter from my husband’s aunt: “Happy Easter, He is risen indeed”. I thought, okay, maybe she answered me through her twitter account, not knowing I received her text. I sent a quick smiley face text and went back to my amazement about my welcome to the church.

Then, I got the message again, and again, and again, two and three times a day from Sunday until the following Friday. I just thought it was some glitch with Twitter. It didn’t stop until I told my mother about it and showed her the newest message that came in Friday, April 25th, at 11:45 am, still saying “Happy Easter, He is risen indeed”.

Now some of you may think that I should have known something was up from the Twitter messages. But I can be slow, especially when God is trying to get my attention. On Friday, I read the book “Heaven is Real”. I wanted to see the movie, but I knew with my being in Idaho that wouldn’t happen, so I bought the book. The book is small and as my parents went out to run some errands, I sat down to read it.

It didn’t take me long to finish and the book really spoke to me. All these feelings of guilt and unworthiness came up. I had walked away from mainstream religion because of their messages of “Sin” and “Unworthiness”. Ten years ago, I had an Epiphany that Jesus was actually telling us that we were able to perform the same miracles as he did, because God dwelled within us in the Holy Spirit. If God is in us, then we are worthy, because He makes us so. We won’t even get into the way the church treats women.

Anyway, I was kind of shook up. I was crying and went outside into nature. (My favorite place to talk to God) I didn’t think he was calling me back to church. I pulled out my cell phone and called a friend who is a Cherokee Dreamer. She told me that the planets were aligning in this Grand Cross to bring in Christ Energy and I was right in the middle of it.

Then it hit me, here was my burning bush. Take one thing in this list and it means nothing. Take all of it and it means God was waving a huge red flag, trying to get my attention. Whether I wanted to face it or not, it was time to get started on my Non-Fiction book about my spiritual journey and the many weird, “Paranormal” experiences I have had.

I asked another friend, Why? What is the purpose of this book? (I am still worried about being called a “Freak”) She assured me that someone needed to read it to find their own answers and since I was open to being called, I got the message.

So, here is my first confession of being something out of the norm. I know I am not alone in this world and if you are reading this, take heart. The world is changing. What was once hidden and thought to be strange and freaky is now on weekly television. We are so much more than we believe ourselves to be. We are the children of God and that means we can perform miracles and change the world.