Last night, I woke up from the worst nightmare in recent memory and wondered if I were losing my mind. It felt as if something terribly evil were trying to steal my soul. I briefly contemplated waking up my husband so that he could banish the Unmentionable One from the house and from my mind. I didn’t, however, as I noticed that “Jesus Loves Me” was running through my head and my Virgin Mary lamp had turned itself on. I took these as positive signs that I need not worry about the evil in my dream coming to claim me during my waking hours.
The dream started with me pulling into a driveway of a house. I had the sense that I had not been invited to enter this house, but that it was somehow acceptable that I go inside. It was painted a dark, barn red and had a screened-in front porch. I think that it was built in the 1940s. My purpose, once inside, was to finish a ritual that I had started and failed to complete. I was organizing crosses and other Catholic relics on shelves while simultaneously attempting to ‘fix’ various issues in the house, such as straightening window sills and other odd things that were ‘off’ in the home. I realized that I could not accomplish my goal of cleansing or ‘making safe’ this place, so I went to find my husband and bring him back with me.
He was with me in the bedroom while I continued what appeared to be some sort of Catholic exorcism ritual designed to banish the evil from the house. I was in a race against time; I knew, somehow, that I was losing this battle. Whoever I was trying to save was too far gone, too enmeshed in the Dark Side to be helped. Oddly enough, I was alone in this fight against evil; I didn’t ask my husband for help.
I fall back onto the bed, and the mattress starts to undulate, like a giant serpent. It’s pulling me into the bed, sucking me down into some infernal hole, and I realize that the Evil One is trying to take my soul. My husband grabs my hand and tries to pull me out, but judging by the look on his face, he is not sure that he can save me. I wake up right before I am dragged down into a place I can’t imagine, a place that terrifies me beyond measure.
Those few moments after waking, I feared for my soul. The Virgin Mary light popping on in the living room calmed me down enough to pray and think. What message was contained in this dream? I thought about this for a long, long time. At first, I was concerned about who it was I was attempting to save: did this person have an identity? Was this person me? If this person is me, what am I attempting to save myself from?
Awhile back, I was told by a priest and a pastor–together, in a group meeting to assess the state of my soul–to be very, very careful with Hollywood and their interest in the dark side of the paranormal and how they might use me to portray and explore it. The night before, I had watched an episode of “Aftershocks” where I appeared in an interview with Zak. The whole purpose of the show was basically to warn paranormal investigators of the dangers inherent in our attempts to contact the spirit world. The show ends with a question to Dr. Barry Taft: (Zak) “So, who are these voices?” (Dr. Taft) “I have no idea.”
And none of us have any idea, really, if we have ‘contacted’ the person we intended to. Not only that, we assume that these voices are from ‘people,’ when, in fact, they could be non-human entities finding their way into our consciousness. Once you open that Pandora’s Box, it’s very hard to close. Yes, we can come to these investigations with the best of intentions and ask for only the nice and well-intentioned spirits to manifest, but that doesn’t mean our request shall be granted. The other side of this coin is the fact that most paranormal television loves the idea of dark forces haunting buildings and investigators. There is a drama and fear factor in those negative energies that draws in an audience.
The scary stuff sells. No matter how much we wish to avoid it for the sake of our sanity and mental/emotional health, we will always be brought back to that dark place by those who want to sell a show to an audience who wants to freak out and feel the adrenaline rush of horror and mayhem. Producers respond to what the audience wants, so in no way do I blame them for responding to the obvious demand for such material. The problem with this dynamic is that it ignores the human cost of such a fascination. The investigators involved suffer during investigations where the criminal spirits and non-human entities attempt to invade our lives in any way they can.
Paranormal investigators talk a lot about “protection,” and I used to think that was silly. I didn’t need “protection;” I was just fine in the dark, communicating with someone who cursed at me and scratched my back! Of course I needed protection, and even more now. We all do, if we are seeking to find answers to vexing spiritual questions. I’m not sure, however, if I need to find those answers in hopeless places with lost souls, or if I should find those answers in the ‘thin places’ of my heart: Idyllwild, the Santa Monica Mountains, my little church, in the company of those I love.
But that doesn’t make for interesting entertainment, and therein lies the rub.
–Kirsten A. Thorne, PhD