Our spirited old house

In the middle of our street, our 100 year old American four-square sits tall.

She’s an old girl, our home. Built in 1920, she has seen 2 major renovations but less than a handful of families walk through her doors. She still has a classic American four-square look and feel despite the major updates. But I like to imagine what she was like upon construction. Back in the Roaring 20’s, she must have been quite the bright spot for our suburban New England town. Now, you can feel she hums to a different tune. A mellower one, but no less vibrant.

She likes to sit. She enjoys a slow morning. Her warmth inviting, her old face a balm for harsh modern eyes. She’s modest, a mere pale yellow in the wintry sun.

As for the inside, you can still catch hints of old-fashioned charm throughout the main part of the house. The small woodwork details in the trimming. The built-in shelves by the fireplace in the living room. The eye-catching floor work, unassuming but unforgettable once you become aware of it. You can even touch some of the original foundation in the now very functional basement with a finished floor.

She’s quiet and lovely, just the way we like her.

In fact, there is absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about her. I hate to disappoint, especially if you have grown accustomed to the kind of material typical around café de olla. But our 100 year old home, amazingly, is one hundred percent free from any kind of ghosts, energetic abnormalities, lost souls, bad memories, etc.

Is it completely energy or '“entity” free?

No.

But I don’t believe in “empty space.” I choose to believe that everything from wooded forests to your own driveway are filled with spirits, non-human beings, and the like. I don’t think anyone is ever really “alone.”

Furthermore, if a place is capable of holding onto bad energy or entities, couldn’t it just as easily be capable of holding onto positive energy or entities? Not all homes with psychic activity are haunted.

And there has undoubtedly been activity afoot around here. Which is why I like to say that our old girl is merely spirited.

But my guess is, she always has been.

I. A brief history

Our home and the plot on which it rests has quite a history. After a little investigative work, I found out a few fun facts.

1. The individual who originally built this house in 1920 was heavily involved in 2 Masonic societies in town. And possibly served as a deacon in one of the local churches, still looking into this.

2. Before the house was built, the land had been bought and sold a few times. A notable owner of the plot in 1904 was a beloved florist who used this patch of earth as a nursery.

3. In 1888, the owner was a man of significance in these parts. Which is probably why he was able to marry the daughter of a highly prominent minister. The father-in-law (a.k.a., this minster) is likely cherished to this day for all his contributions made to the New England sense of Christian faith.

Incredible. All lovely things to have discovered by the way. But I’ve always known this in a way. The moment we moved into our home, I knew our place was “clean.” I just knew it. Before I was actively speaking with the dead via Sonia. And before I discovered my own set of psychic talents — I just knew.

I knew that I was safe. That our home/property was definitely not haunted. I knew not one ghost, benign or otherwise, lived in our home. I could feel it. The emptiness. The clarity. Maybe even a sacredness.

Even when I turned off all the lights.

Even when I went down into the basement at night. By myself. Alone in the house.

Even at 3AM during one of my hyposomnia flare ups — nothing. I felt the presence of nothing.

Not one bump in the night. Not one monster under the bed. Or in the attic. Or in the bathroom mirror. Or in any of the closets. Not a one.

That is, until the summer I learnt of my very special inheritance.

It was then that life at home became a bit more… complicated.

The summer of 2020 was a heated season for us all. We were spending an extraordinary amount of time in our homes reacquainting ourselves with everything from tiny humans to broken light fixtures. And on a fateful sunny day, I learned via a long-distanced phone call just how much I was like my grandparents. How much having a Ouija board in the house would affect me. How sensitive I would become to non-human beings. The dead. Energetic shifts. And so on.

Let’s just say I have a few stories to tell about my house now than when I first moved in several years ago.

Why?

Because I can sense more now.

— And they know it.

Remember my warning to all my fellow gifted folks?

Because you are gifted, you naturally pop up on their radar in a big way! As Sonia likes to say, when you’re gifted, you are basically wearing a giant neon sign that says: “WELCOME. YES, I CAN [insert “clair—” + your choice of sensorium] DEAD PEOPLE. COME ON DOWN!” That, you don’t really have any control over. Spirits just know when there is a “translator” in their vicinity.

To the other side of the veil, I’m shining like a lighthouse on a clear moonless night these days.

So whatever you can imagine is lurking outside your doorstep, whatever haunts you in your dreams, whatever waits for you between sleep and wake — yeah. That stuff. I see them too. What’s more, I’ve dealt with them.

But these spirit banishment stories are for another time, I promise.

For now, I will tell you a merrier story. One filled with a happy memory.

II. A surprise party

A couple of months ago, I returned from a trip to California. I was tired but happy to have been able to spend quality time with family and friends after being away from them for over a year. On one occasion, I had the great fortune of having dinner with Sonia and my younger brother. Both of whom have graciously allowed me to write about them here on the newsletter.

Stories and laughs were shared that night. Lots of cake was devoured. But perhaps the most interesting part of the evening, for me at least, was when Sonia got my Abuelita’s permission such that Sonia was allowed to “open up” my third eye more. I, of course, had begged her to do so and Sonia, in true form, initially resisted but then granted my wish to “boost” my spiritual senses. (For all of you reiki practitioners out there, Sonia basically gave me an attunement.)

Sonia calls herself an “amplifier,” i.e., she naturally increases the psychic activity around her whenever she walks into any room. She never does this intentionally, it’s just a side effect of her gifts.

But this time — she was amplifying on purpose.

By and by, my time in California was spent and I returned to chilly New England. Those first few nights back home were uneventful, if I recall correctly.

As I am sure you have predicted already, this was not to last…

I was slipping into my routine rather successfully. Looking back now, nothing felt out of the ordinary. I love being at home, I never tire of it. I like to think that I would been able to detect a disturbance in the force had the need arose but everything felt normal, as it were. So truly, nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.

Some time that week, we went to bed as per our usual nighttime routine. We brush up. We stretch. We wish each other good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say to The Boy. He smiles, turns, and falls asleep almost immediately. (I envy him sometimes.)

It takes a bit longer for sleep to arrive that night. This happens often to me so I don’t really think much of it. I decide to patiently wait for the fairy dust to draw my eyelids close. I begin my nightly prayers, reciting them in my mind over and over. All is going smoothly, until around midnight…

When suddenly — I hear it.

Beyond my bedroom door.

It’s faint. Could easily be mistaken for the wind. Or the neighbors. Or the sound of the running dishwasher.

But it’s not. No.

— It’s voices.

My mind goes blank. Any previous efforts to fall asleep are lost.

My body freezes. As if lying perfectly still is going to change anything.

My ears strain. I feel my brain jumpstart as it’s trying to flip through a rolodex to find a match. Something. Surely, that sound can’t be voices. There must be something remotely familiar stored in my memory bank to help me interpret what I’m hearing. Anything to direct me away from the stomach-churning conclusion that what I hear is none other than: voices.

I pray to some god in the heavens that my senses are playing a horrible trick on me.

— But there it is. I can still hear it.

Louder now.

Oh, good lord.

It’s undeniable…

There are voices coming from downstairs.

All of my bodily functions are now laser-focused on one thing: why are there voices coming from downstairs?!

And with each passing millisecond, I’m panicking. I’m starting to freak out because I’m thinking the worst. I must confess this to you now: a home invasion is one of my top fears of all time. Top 3 easily. Nothing strikes fear in my mind as quickly as the thought that those unnerving sounds I hear in the middle of night might possibly mean that someone is breaking into our home. Each millisecond is soaking with dread now.

I can feel my core getting ready for action mode. For fight or flight.

My blood drums loudly in my temples. My heart rate climbs, fast. But I can’t stop listening. I can’t stop straining my ears.

— And then.

Music.

There’s music. I think.

And laughter.

Laughter?!

Oh, my god. It’s a party. There is a party going on downstairs.

A party going on — in my living room no less!

I sigh with tremendous relief. And now, my mind is off to the races.

Oh, thank god. Oh, jeezus. Wait, what?! Why is there a party going on in my living room? At midnight?? Scaring the goddamn living beejeezus out of me?! Goddammit!!

I can’t believe what I’m hearing but at least I’m breathing within functional limits now. Not normal limits, but at least we’re functional again.

I’m dumbfounded.

And slightly annoyed.

I sigh again. I can’t help but count my blessings it’s not “real.” That I am not in any physical danger. That I don’t have to run an escape plan through my mind anymore. I honestly could have woken up The Boy right then and there to celebrate but uh, I knew that doing so would not have the kind of reception one would call congratulatory.

Happy to be out of danger’s way, I try to get comfortable again. I place my hand over my heart to continue monitoring my vitals, ever the neurotic that I am.

I have another good listen.

Lord almighty, whoever is having a party downstairs is having a good time. All the more power to you, I say to myself silently.

Oh no. Are they going to party all night long?

Aww, man!

III. A reading from Sonia

You have endured enough, so I’ll keep this brief.

A few days later after the “surprise party,” I mentioned the psychic event to Sonia during one of our business meetings/psychic sessions. She flipped out, told me I should have left my home immediately that night, and that I should consider the closest Marriot hotel as my new residence. (Sonia, you’re the best! What’s a psychic reading without a healthy dose of side-splitting humor.)

Once the hairs on the back of her neck lay flat again, she gave me a brief synopsis of what happened. Basically, what I experienced that night was a “memory” of a party. The party did happen but a long time ago, possibly in the 1920’s or 1930’s. The party was actually a birthday party for a woman. The connection between the woman and our home was unclear. But they did indeed have a grand old time! That is for certain.

As I suspected, nothing but a bunch of party animals.

Scared the crap out of me. But at least it was for a good cause.

IV. A prayer for the home

And now I leave you with a prayer of protection for your home. Any kind of routine protection for the home is always recommended as part of a healthy spiritual hygienic practice. Below you will find what I use for our home. I hope it gives you inspiration to develop your own prayer if you don’t already have one.

Start however you prefer to start ritual. Finish however you prefer to finish ritual.

You are free to speak these words, or ones like them, in whichever way feels the best to you and your circumstances.

I humbly call up on my ancestors known and unknown, my spirit guides, nature guides, animal guides, celestial guides, my team of guardian angels, my teacher angels, and my ascended masters.

Please protect my home and all who dwell inside it. May anything or anyone with mal-intent be bound, banished, and released back out into universe. And may they go in peace and never return.

I am humbled and in awe of those who came before me, and am eternally grateful for the gifts I have been given and the blessings that have been bestowed upon my head.

Blessed be (x3).

And when you are creating your own prayer, just remember: your home is your heart. So, get down into your heart-place and ask for what you want the most.

I wish you and your home all the best outcomes.

Thank you so very much for reading about my lovely home today. What about your home? Have you fostered a relationship with it? Would you like to? Got any good psychic activity stories that took place in your house? Let me know in the comments!

Hope all of my Midwestern and New England friends are staying warm and dry these days!

With cariño,

Maribel