why Im started exploring my spiritually (goes deep)

If your not into spiritual stuff this one blogs probably not for you! ❤️

Before I start, I just want to say that everything in this blog is my own thoughts, feelings, and beliefs that I've collected throughout my life so far. You don't have to agree or believe.

In this blog, I'm going to tell you some stories about my relationship with the spiritual realms and how I perceive and believe it to be.

I think I'll start with a story my mum tells me about from early on in life, when I was about 3 years old. My nan had come to visit us for the weekend; she was a bit quieter than usual (her beloved dog had been put down and she hadn't told anyone as it was a special occasion, and she didn't want to lower the mood). Apparently, I sat down next to her, put my hand on her lap, and said, "I'm sorry Charlie is gone, but he's here still; you just can't see him."

I then went on to tell stories of a grandad that came and took the dog, and he was happy. Strange for a kid to say, I know.

Apparently, it was quite a few of these little events, but nothing that significant, just some little things my mum says that I came out with, creepy things like ghosts and stuff.

A little bit later on in life, I remember sitting in the car with my dad and saying to him, "How do I get my arm back?" My dad, being confused by this, said, "You've always had your arm," but still to this day, I can remember clear memories of being younger with an amputated arm, playing in a field and struggling to do stuff with my one arm. I have always found this very odd. I think now that it's some sort of past life memory. That's my belief, anyways.

All this suddenly seemed to stop from the age of about 6 until I was around 14.

At 14, I remember I woke up in the night needing to use the toilet, so I got up and opened my bedroom door. I headed out to the hallway, noticing that the bedside lights in the spare room had been turned on, which was odd because it was only me and my dad living in the house, and no one else was there who would use that room. Me being spooked, I just ran across the hall to the bathroom.

This is where it gets weird.

The spare bedroom door had opened in the time that I was in the bathroom. I noticed this and hid behind the bathroom door. I was a bit freaked out, to be honest, so I sheepishly poked my head around the door, and to my shock, there was a man standing there. He was wearing double denim and had a beanie on. He looked quite old, had a beard, and had a very old-looking can of what I'd say was Foster's beer in his hand.

He said to me, "Hi Robbie, don't worry about me, I'm just Paul, everything's okay." 

I found it strange because this was something I definitely should have been freaking out over and showing my dad, but weirdly, I felt very calm, almost safe. I remember I said to him, "Hi Paul," and I just walked past him, into my room, and sat on my bed, staring at the hallway. I couldn't see anyone there.i must have I must have stared out at that hallway for about a good 2 hours before i final fell asleep.

The next day, I told my dad, and he thought I was lying or dreaming. He said, "You must have seen a ghost," but I seemed so eerily realistic that to this day, I have no clue what that was about.

A few years later, I started having really vivid dreams and seeing people in my dreams that had passed away. I saw my granddad, whom I had never met and had died before I was born. I spoke to him as clear as day in this dream, but he didn't look exactly like the pictures of him. He looked older and tired, and when he spoke to me, he spoke in this extremely broad Scottish accent. He was Scottish, but this wasn't the voice I had ever imagined him having.

He said to me that I needed to speak to my grandma; he said he wanted her to know he's always there with her and is waiting for her, and she'll see him when she is ready to go herself.

I spoke to my grandma about this the next day. My grandmother said I was just like him, that he had seen at least three spirits or ghosts leading up to his death, and on the last time, he told my grandma that it was nearly his time. Not long after, he died.

She went on to tell me about my granddad's mum and how she used to read tea leaves, palm read, and tell fortunes along with some really cool stories.

Now, when I was about 17, I started learning how to read tarot cards as my mother would read them, so I learned bits and pieces from her. 

I was really excited to show my friends, and my good friend asked me to read his, so I did. Now, I didn't know what all the cards meant; I had a rough idea. A lot of tarot card reading is done from interpretation, and I was always told about certain sequences of cards that meant certain things.

I started laying out the cards after shuffling them; the first few cards suggested an older man would be showing him direction and that he had a new relationship on its way. He was quite happy about this because he was really excited about finding his first proper girlfriend.

I carried on the reading to get some insight about the future, and the sequence of cards came out. The part that was taught is a death card (not the card of death; this is a couple of different cards that come together). Me being young and naive, I thought this was funny, and we made jokes about the fact my friend was going to die as we didn't really believe it. We were just having fun. We went home with our stuff and went about our day almost straight away.

A week later, my good friend who had just started working for his dad's construction company, as well as college, said, "I've met this girl." He was super excited about her. I don't want to name any names in this, out of respect, but he was super happy.

A few weeks went on, and we started seeing his mood change totally. He was a different guy, a lovely guy.

One morning, I received a phone call with the devastating news that my friend had sadly taken his own life.

This obviously destroyed me at that age because we were all very, very close friend, one of my five friends in my friend group. It was probably the saddest time in my life so fair 💔

(Please don't do this if you're struggling. It literally destroys everyone around you.)

But ever since that day, I have always thought about that tarot card reading, always wondered if me reading it had something to do with it, but I sure as hell hope not. Now, I refuse to give readings to anyone that I know personally. I would also never tell anyone if that sequence of cards came out again.

The next coming year was really hard for me mentally, and for all of my friend group to be fair. My dreams started coming back vividly, nearly every night I was having these crazy, realistic, and real dreams. One night, I had a dream. I didn't scream. I was walking my lost friend's dog, and a faceless figure approached me and said, "Come with me. Carrot Top wants to see you." Now remember Carrot Top, as it's important.

I followed the faceless figure to a big, long corridor. It was really, really bright with shiny tile floors. At the end of the corridor, there was a person walking towards me, and as he came closer, I realized it was my friend who had passed away. He was walking towards me as if nothing had happened. When he came up to me, he said, "Hey mate, how you doing?" I instantly hugged him and started crying.

I remember saying, "This is real, isn't it?"

He said, "Come with me, I want to show you something." Suddenly, the corridor disappeared, and we were somehow stood in a quiet field with a big lake in it. In the middle of the lake, there was a statue of my friend. He said, "Will you help me throw stones at this statue?" 

I was confused but started throwing stones with him.

He said that as soon as he destroys the statue, he can move on. So, I stayed. It felt like an hour without saying anything, just being near him, throwing stones. The statue was barely chipped. I asked him a few questions about how he felt and if he regretted his decision, and he said, "You don't feel regret when you're here; just love and peace."

He then looked at me and said, "It's time to go now, mate," and all I can remember is my body being filled with emotion as he faded away. The next thing I knew, I was in a normal dream at work, but I remember correctly that I made myself wake up. I positively remember every part of that experience, and some might think it's just a dream, but I don't think so.

This next part confirms this to me.

But a week or so later, me and the other four friends arranged to meet up at a local pub to play a game of pool and just talk about feelings and stuff. It was a nice experience. My friend told me that he had a dream where he had seen our passed friend, and he gave him a big bag of weed. But on top of the weed, there were loads of carrots cut up into little bits. I don't know why, but I'll never think this was a coincidence, you know.

At this point in the story, I'm about 18 years old, so I think I'm going to stop this here. I have loads more stories that have made my beliefs what they are today. The ones you've just read are just the tip of the iceberg!

I will carry this on at some point soon in the future.

Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear thoughts or questions about my experience up to this point ❤️