Haunted?!

This photograph was taken this morning. Some call it the Alcatraz of the east.

Portsmouth Naval Prison is a former U.S. Navy and Marine Corps prison on the grounds of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard (PNS) in New Hampshire. The building has the appearance of a castle. The reinforced concrete naval prison was occupied from 1908 until 1974.

Source:  Wikipedia

Legend holds that if prisoners escaped during a guard's watch, that guard finished out the prisoner's term in the Portsmouth Naval Prison or as everyone dubs it, The Castle. The prison held both naval and marine corps inmates.

But that wasn't enough to scare Beth. Even the developer, Joseph Sawtelle, who planned to renovate and out lease the building as office units, died inside the prison.  He died suddenly inside the prison working while working on renovating it.  Locals believe it is haunted. It may be because there is also a nuclear submarine repair base nearby. Some twelve years later, no one has stepped up to continue this work.

A poor audio of the prison and grounds:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjOh8TgIkEU

Beth doesn't expect to be visiting this structure anytime soon. Some say the prison was built of concrete mixed with the Piscataqua's brackish water.  This coupled with near constant water seepage into the lower cells, barely heated prison with its resultant dampness caused thousands of inmates to die from exposure.

Even actor, Humphrey Bogart served as a prison guard briefly.  He often referred to it in his films.  But
local legend reminds everyone to stay away.  With its nightmare conditions and atrocities, the ghosts of the former prisoners do not want anyone inside this cannellated prison. Ever.

Help me, Help me

The dreams continued.  They didn't make a whole lot of sense until my friend talked about hers.

"Help me, help me," she cried out.

It was faint, as though each breath was labored.

"Do you have dreams like that often?"

"I don't know.  Well, sometimes.  They go back years.  To my childhood."

"What was going on in your life at the time.  Do you remember?"

"I remember one thing.  Being smothered by someone I was dating," she said. 

"But it isn't always about that, at least from what I know."

I wondered about an abduction.  She wasn't sure.  Though she had have glimpses, memories of a UFO.

"I was all alone.  No one would help me.  Scared. I kinda think I was abducted but I have to be sure. I don't remember a time not believing in UFOs.  More and more people are speaking about their experiences."

She would find a hypnotherapist.  And come to the bottom of this.

Sugar Plum

She was the youngest of six. There was lots of vying for attention in her house.  Her Dad was a butcher and liked to spent money. He liked the girls, too. Mom stayed home and raised the family; four girls, two boys.  The boys died before their fifties.  The girls lived into their nineties.  When the foursome got together, three of them living a thousand miles from their home in Missouri, it was a cackle of conversation.  Four women, all under five feet tall, talking at once, one upping each other.  Our Sugar Plum was lost in the crowd.  She set it up that way.  I don't think she knew it. Mostly.

Family togetherness often left her feeling less than whole.  She played the learned helpless role.  There was a sort of safety knowing where she was in the pecking order.  I often thought had things been different, she could have been so much more.  Fulfilled.  Peaceful.

Sugar Plum was sweet, round in her later years and often talking about that.  Self-effacing, the scapegoat.  Her husband often put her down in front of the family and friends.  He had his own issues losing his brother.  His parents told him they wished he had died instead of the beloved brother.  He never felt whole or even close...after that.

That he had a girlfriend didn't help the situation.  The family lore was to keep quiet about it.  Beth often saw them together. He and the girlfriend. Sugar Plum and he only went to social events together. He lived two lives, one with Sugar Plum, and the other with the other woman.  Once he even came on to Beth's Mom.  She is still surprised she told me about it.

It was a crab basket in that family.  Everyone crawling as quickly as they could to get out from whatever they felt they were stuck in.  And, there wasn't much emotional support going on.  The sisters did laugh from time to time about the family antics. Especially forty years after the events.

There was the story about the family continually moving when the bills came due. The story became more funny with each passing year.  I imagine it wasn't so funny packing up and escaping.  But escaping is what they people did.

G was the oldest of the sisters.  She and her husband had no children.  Couldn't.  A crackerjack bridge player. Balanced. R was the social one, the formally educated one, a teacher.  She told the rest of the clan that she was smart.  Sugar Plum revered her and believed what she was told. The family was know for repeating exactly what was told to them as though it was gospel truth.

"She is the talented one.  Draws, paints, speaks languages," Beth often heard.

Her younger sister, J, was the nervous one, though her daughters did not think so at the time.  She had the big house in suburbia.  Her husband is said to have removed materials from his government job.  He was proud to display Uncle Sam's wares in his shop.  That he was excellent with tools speaks to his many ways of being clever.  A mechanical engineer.  He and J were married secretly for ten years.  Her parents never liked the man.  They were not about to tell them they eloped. In time, they relocated out of state.  Eventually, everyone knew the story.

Sugar Plum's husband, a talented and brilliant engineer also, headed the agency J's husband worked for.  In fact, he helped him find the position.  The agency was only to happy to have a capable man. Sugar Plum was happy to have won her husband.  Another part of the family creed.  Marry well, look the part.  Suck the rest up.

It took Beth years to understand Sugar Plum.  That she suffered from self-esteem was an understatement.  Her children were continually embarrassed by her, but only too happy to receive the goods she bestowed on them; home down payments, babysitting, college and graduate school tuition, an open heart, and lots of compassion, delivered meals when they were sick. 

In so many ways, Sugar Plum was the most successful sister.  Not that there is any standard of measurement by which to assess this.  Everyone loved her.  Her children were embarrassed by her.

By the time Beth realized what was going on, she started a personal mission to help Sugar Plum's esteem.  Both women supported one another in the years to come   But it wasn't always that way.  Sugar Plum wanted her children to marry well.  Degrees.  Family names.  Money. Beth didn't have those kinds of credentials in the dating stage.  In years to come, she rang the bell.  The only one to attend an Ivy League school.  It didn't matter as much for Beth as it did to Sugar Plum. She made sure everyone knew.  She also added,

"They must have eased the requirements, Beth being an older student and all."

That was quintessential Sugar Plum.  No filters.  You knew where you stood with her. 

In time, Sugar Plum grew to love Beth.  Beth set better parameters for her.  Even helped her and her daughter find peace together.  When life took Beth in another direction from the family, a phone call to Sugar Plum after a few years of silence said it all.

"Hi, is Sugar Plum around?"

"Hello, is this OUR Beth?"

This ninety something woman called those dear to her 'sugar plum.'  In time, the women of the family who had an affinity for her reversed it.

She was OUR Sugar Plum.

The Mind

Wait!

Did I paint that?  One of the best things about painting is that you put it away, pull it out and see it with a new pair of eyes.  I really had to wonder if this was MY work.  Painting takes you on interesting journeys.  Kind of like writing. 

When Beth writes, she has no idea where she will end.  She doesn't want to know.  She writes because she has to. 

It is hard to be objective about one's work.  Sometimes I love it, other times I scratch my head in wonder.  What could I have been thinking.  But wait!  This is a process.  Enjoy it.  I do.  And I spend a lot of time painting.  I like to see where the brush will take me.  Sometimes it is more like where I will fall into. 

The mind can be very hard on its owner.  The mindbody can twist and turn, laugh and smile dependent upon where its owner 'thinks' it is.  Most of the time, as we know, it is the same thoughts day in and day out.

Beth spent a lifetime doing investigative work.  Often she didn't even know she was doing it.  Some of it comes from natural intuitions.  Energy work is like this.  Remote viewers know this only too well.  Clear the mind, see what visual impressions you get.  Hunches. Knowings.

"The mind, once stretched by an idea, never returns to its original dimensions."

 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Coming Home

 Beth couldn't sleep. It wasn't just her neighbors comment,  for she is always spewing something at someone. 

The neighbors call the woman, "officer."  She feels so desperately out of control and must also ensure, or so she believes, that things are the way they are supposed to be. She critiques everyone's behavior, but her own.  But this night would be different.  There was something in her negativity that would affect things tonight.

After an exhausting day, Beth went to sleep about nine in the evening, tossing and turning all night long. 
In the early morning hours, a bang was heard outside.  Clearly,  it ricocheted from another part in the complex.  Beth was too tired to investigate.  She hadn't slept well the night before, either. 

Could it be Saturn moving into Scorpio ultimately manifesting our dreams? Kind of like March coming in like a lion and leaving as a lamb.   Mars left Scorpio on the 6th which is not the time to launch new things. It is a time for some things to change.  Many people feel the disequilibirum but have no idea what it is about. The intuitive ones won't question it.  They will let things be as they are.

Beth rolled over after the noise feeling like she was being drawn in. She got right out of bed. She didn't, couldn't understand it.  Something was righting itself.  This she knew.

Then Beth learned the transformer outside the critical neighbor's apartment blew.  That woman was directly in line with it.  It isn't surprising as her husband and she orchestrate a clique and maintain the kind of control one would being so frustrated with themselves.

All night long, as Beth couldn't fall into a deep sleep, she reframed her thoughts. Thoughts are like shields.  Once you are in your core belief, the negativity of others gets deflected back on them.

Eventually her thoughts surrounded her loving friends and family. And the goodness within.  The interests she is pursuing and plans to pursue soon. She remembered to look at 'aspects' of situations and not to color them good or bad. It had nothing to do with Beth.  But nasties hurt even when we remember the source.

Eventually, power was restored.  The lights came on, the sun came out. 

Know That

She couldn't wait to speak on the radio talk show.  It was time to tell what happened. Humans are an odd lot.  They tend to over-think without any action or remedy or they under-think without any action or remedy.  Either way, the result tends toward the same thing. 

I thought about this poem of the no-mind and how things are without thinking:

With no-mind, blossoms invite the butterfly;
With no-mind, the butterfly visits the blossoms.
When the flower blooms, the butterfly comes;
When the butterfly comes, the flower blooms.
I do not “know” others;
Others do not “know” me.
Not-knowing each other we naturally follow the Way.
  18th Century Japanese poet, Ryokan

Some things happen because they are programmed to happen.  The blossoms invite the butterfly.  Is there a thought process or it is autonomic? 

This is not true of the UFO experience.  They are here for a reason. Personally, I feel they are here to observe how we are, what we are doing.  They want to understand how we use or don't use our minds.  They compare us to nature and wonder about us.  Someone recently said they must think we are stupid.  I tend to think the same thing quite often.  But I simply do not 'know.'  I tend toward following my intuition so that is my knowing.  It always keeps me in good stead.

Beth didn't prepare for the talk show.  She wanted to be more extemporaneous.  That is where her knowing is.  Within.  Not in her brain but in her head.  She uses the brains in every cell.  And, she sees the brain head as the central processing unit. A coordinator of sorts.

The radio talk show went well.  Her interviewer took her beyond herself.  She liked that she had a forum in which to be open. A bit tired, but pleased she walked down the stairs to the door in the parking lot. As she walked out to her limo, a well dressed man in a dark suit waited by the door. Her limo driver was fixed on him. 


"Excuse me, but was that you on air?" the well dressed man asked.

"Yes it was," she said softly.

"Can I talk with you?  I want you to feel comfortable.  Could your limo meet me at the Round About Restaurant at the circle?Your driver could wait, or even join us."    

"Sure, that would be fine.  I look forward to it.  Do you want to follow me behind?"

"Yes, I don't know the area too well but I do know this restaurant.  I am staying in the hotel next to it."

Beth was cautious.  Her driver was a former Navy Seal, Chad, was a long time friend.  She would be in good hands.  Chad decided to join them for dinner. 

"Your story is huge.  Thank you for coming out with it.  I've seen them.  At York Beach, Maine.  I was there when you and your friend were standing on the shore.  I saw you two as close up as if I were two feet away.  Their technology is beyond anything you know."

Beth caught her breath.  She had to know more.

"Why were you up there with them?  Were you abducted?"

"Yes, once.  They do this thing that checks your heart first.  That is why they chose for you to see them.  They trusted you.  They felt your love.  I was picked up so that I could communicate with you. They did the same thing to me.

They thought you might feel safer with a 'humanoid' at least for now.  They've been reading your mind for years."

"Not surprised."

Beth got more than serious.  She drew closer to the table.  Chad inched over toward her.  

"They are coming to see you again.  They want you to know this nonsense going on in earth is child's play.  You will be more than alright.  As will your family and friends.  And know this.  We have followed your thought process for years.  You felt you were in a cattle chute, right? That is the image you kept portraying."

"Oh, geeze.  Exactly. I was in a cattle chute.  I wrote about it for years.  Smothered is more like it. Smothered in a lifestyle that wasn't me."

"That is why I keep telling you to hold your ground.  Feel your energy.  Call in only that which supports and elevates you. We're building platforms within those whose hearts are opened.  We keep sending your more information, more knowings.  As you fit your own skin, we send you more.

I see you let go of so much.  There is more you know, we humans have so much stuff that weights us down."

"I have to go back to the ship but we will come for you soon.  Be well my friend.  And keep smiling.  You are in the best of hands.  Know that."  

Some things just happen

The Bill Comes Due

Emma ~

We've been reading your posts about a polygraph for politicos.  What a marvelous, albeit funny idea.  The thing is this.  Don't these politicos think they are right?  Don't people who attend status, power and have financial wealth believe they are more unique than the rest of us and deserve it?  Still, I'd like to do it with a louder than loud beep, beep every time an untruth was told. 

You sell your soul for the money and don't ever believe you don't.  Spiritually, emotionally and physically.  The bill always comes due.  Tantamous to karma.  Our deeds come full cycle.  The Laws of Physics. 

Remember Robert Redford in The Horse Whisperer? It's one of my favorite movies with the best dialogues.  He makes and keeps it so simple.  He stays in his own space allowing others to be where they are unless, of course, it affects him personally.  Movies have that special control, don't they? Orchestrating scenes so points can be made.  In the end, or in the beginning dependent upon how you see it, life is what you make it. 

My personal thought is that we convolute it, that is, life, so that we don't have to be responsible.  Grown up.  Just look at the drama out there.  Stay in the drama and you don't have to grow.  But what a sad thing that is.  When we speak it out loud, then we have to do something about it.

The weather turned warm and sunny again.  A week of rain, rain and more rain left a depressed populace.  I can't imagine living in Asia through the rainy season.