Lower Vibrational Entity Removal

Lower Vibrational Entity Removal


Sit in a comfortable position and take three deep breaths, relaxing any tension in your body, after which you breathe naturally. When you feel relaxed and centered, contact Archangel Michael as per invocation and have Him clear you, as well as place protection around you.


You can do this for yourself or for someone else (with their or their Guides’ permission do not attempt any spiritual work (including prayer) for someone else without either asking them directly or accessing their Higher Self and Spirit Guides and asking for permission. Otherwise you are imposing your will on another. Any energy you send even pure Divine Love – will not be accepted by the soul, and you will be wasting your time).


Now say: “I call upon my Spirit Guides, Master Teachers and Guardian Angels, as well as my own Christ Consciousness to be present with me at this time.” (You would call in the other person’s Guides if clearing someone else.) At this time, you would expand your consciousness to get a feel for whatever it is that you believe may be attached. You may also get a sense of what it looks like (there is nothing to fear here, you are completely protected) or just a vague sense of heaviness, despair, anger or other negative emotions. Then you would say:


“I call upon Archangel Michael and His Legions and I ask that You use Your flaming swords to weave a net of golden Light, very fine mesh, and pull it through all of my (or the other persons name here) bodies, my physical body, my etheric body and my energetic body, from my Alpha to my Omega Chakras. Pull the net from bottom to top, capturing all that is unlike love, as well as any lower vibrational energies, entities or thought forms.


Allow yourself to feel the nets energy moving through your energy or the other persons energy, right through the top of your head and above. When you feel the net at that level say:


Archangel Michael, please draw the net tight so that everything captured remains within. I now ask that You and Your Legions send shafts of Divine Love into the energies and entities within the net.”


We have Saint Michael capture everything that is unlike love, just in case this entity had hangers on, or there were other lower vibrational energies you or the person had attached. If you are not consistent with clearing yourself, or working with someone who isnt, there may very well be a lot more than just one. Lower vibrational entities, once taken on, tend to be a psychic dust magnet


Now picture the energies inside the net of golden Light and see all the angels sending shafts of Divine Love into them. Be conscious of any energetic cords that may exist between you and the energy (or between the person you are helping and the energy) because there are no accidents and something in you called this energy to you. Since there are no victims in the Universe, some part of you made a choice to allow the attachment for whatever soul purpose needed to be fulfilled. It may just be that your Spirit agreed to assist this being in raising its vibrational level so it could go to Light.


At this time say, I address the energies and entities within the net: are you willing to return to the Light? I say, return to the Light because that is what they are doing – going home. Sometimes you will hear them questioning, Return? and I then explain how they are originally of the Light and it is time for them to go home, much like the story of the prodigal son. Sometimes its enough to get them to agree. However, you may also get a clear ‘no’, a wishy-washy ‘no’, or you may even get hissing, spitting or growling, depending on the type of entity. If you do, ask the angels to continue sending shafts of Divine Love into the being and visualize any darkness in and around the entity breaking up and dissolving. There is nowhere that God is not, which means that this energy, no matter how ugly or frightening it appears to you, still contains the Godspark that all of us carry. Its Godspark is just a bit more repressed. God/Goddess/All That Is does not squander souls, nor ANY of its Creation, and given that this spiritual experiment is drawing to a close, all of Creation is being called to return to Its true form high vibrational, pure Divine Love.


**A side note here. The only conversation you should have with the being/s is that of getting them to return to the Light. They can be very seductive and might start a conversation with you about their attachment to you, the past lives youve shared, how theyve helped you, how they love you, etc., etc. These Beings are not allowed to lie, but they can use the truth to manipulate and seduce you. Stay focused on the desired outcome sending them into the Light. Whatever you do, do NOT allow them out of the net. Their soul contracts have led them to this point and they only have two choices (of which you can remind them if they try to argue about free will), 1) to return to the Light where they will remember Who They Are and move on to another assignment or 2) to be sent to the farthest reaches of the Universe, in the net, where they will be rendered harmless until this game is complete. They are chess pieces on Gods chess board who have been removed from the game. They are done here.


Continue to ask the being if it is willing to go into Light. When you hear a ‘yes’ – no matter how faint, ask the Legions of Michael to cut the cords between you (or the other person) permanently by saying:


Archangel Michael, I ask that You and Your Legions use Your flaming swords and cut any and all energetic or karmic cords between myself (or the other persons name) and the energies and entities within the net at a 45 degree angle, searing the ends so that they remain detached forever. Please take the Being within the net and their cords into Light, so that it (he/she) may be transmuted into Divine Love and receive sustenance from its Source. Please take my (or persons) cords into Your hands and channel Divine Love into them that they may shrivel and desiccate, dissolve and dissipate into the dust of stars from whence they came. I call upon the Archangel Gabriel and ask that You blow this dust back to the stars where it may be transformed into a Higher Form. Thank You Gabriel! Archangel Michael, I now ask that You and Your Legions fill these areas of my (or persons) bodies with (here add whatever color Rays come to you, such as “…the Blue Ray, the Gold Ray, the Green Ray) and seal this area of my energy with the Blue Flame of Protection and the Mirrored Shields of Protection (a pyramid of outward-facing mirrors) and allow only Divine Love and Light to enter and attach to this area of my (or persons) energy. Thank You.


It may seem like this process takes hours, but I have never had one take more than 20 minutes – and that was a toughy who was connected to me. (It had been attached since my childhood and believed it was protecting me.) I have found that the process sometimes goes quicker if I dialogue with the being, as I said previously. Most lower vibrational energies have been lied to by their higher ups and told that if they go into the Light they will either be destroyed (in which case, I remind them of Einsteins theory that energy can neither be created nor destroyed only transformed) or theyve been told that they will go to Hell and be eternally damned to torture and torment at which point I remind them about the story of the prodigal son and that once they return to the Light they will remember Who They Are and have a good laugh about the part they played in this Shakespearean drama called Earth, with their friends on the other side. I also tell them that Hell is a construct co-created by the human mind and the Dark Hierarchy to keep humanity in fear these beings favorite food.


No matter how it reacts to that, I stand firm in that I’m sending it away into Light, or elsewhere. If you are doing this for someone else, you could, if they are open to it, have them tell the being that they reject it and are done with it. This needs to be spoken in a commanding tone exactly as I have written no negatives, such as I dont want you, etc. The Universe doesnt hear negatives and will ignore them if you use them.


We must release all negative judgment, of ourselves and of the being, for that is how it was able to attach in the first place. After you’ve sent the being into Light with the angels, have Michael clear your energy (or the persons) of any residue from the exercise and reseal it. (See Invocation to Archangel Michael for the formula.)

These energies are like ticks in the physical world. They believe that they lack the Godspark and so go looking for someone from whom they may acquire it. Some have a darker purpose in that they are supposed to keep Lightworkers from moving forward by amplifying their fears, doubts, rage, etc. so that they are kept distracted by these feelings and stay stuck in one place. Yet even these are meant to do this, so that when said Lightworker becomes aware of them, said Lightworker can then send them into Light and there is one less soldier for the ‘dark hierarchy’ (as I call them) out there and one more for the Light (my Guides have told me that they are taken into Light and healed and then given tasks to do).


There are cases of ‘possession’ but despite what TV and movies would have you believe, these are rare (full body possessions being nearly nonexistent) and manifest in people who have a soul contract (before they incarnate they ‘sign’ a contract with the higher self of some lower vibrational being) to have this experience in this lifetime for a specific spiritual purpose and always for the greatest good and highest thought of all concerned.


If you are part of the millions of Spiritual Warriors on the planet at this time, you most likely will attract these entities or the people carrying them because your job is to offer them an opportunity to transmute into their higher forms. We have Michael and His Legions send these shafts of Divine Love into the being so that its vibration raises high enough for it to see more clearly and so make an informed decision about what it wants to do. There is a soul contract that at this point in the beings existence, it would be given this opportunity to choose either moving forward in its evolution or being taken out of the game entirely until it chooses to do so.



©Reverend Mary Yankee 2008

Nobody Knows the Hauntings I’ve Seen 2…

Nobody Knows the Hauntings I’ve Seen…

Due to what must be a glowing ectoplasmic sign hanging over my head that says: “Ghosts & Spirits Check-in Here”, I’ve had to deal with hauntings and Spirits all of my life.

When you come in with Archangel Michael as a Guide, it means you are here to help heal the darkness in the world, as well as within yourself. It also means you are one of His Legions on the planet—a soldier in the trenches, as it were. Part of my job is helping to clear unwanted visitors by helping them to reach the Other Side. Unfortunately, I didn’t receive the training manual. I had to learn through experience.

It took a long time for me to understand that, as in the movie The Sixth Sense, when ghosts come knocking at your door, more often than not they are there for your help and trying to get your attention in the only way they know how.

I was fortunate in that the house in which I grew up wasn’t plagued with restless Spirits—unless you count my little brother and his practical jokes. But after the door between the Faery Realm and myself was closed, I slept peacefully in my bed until I was 15 and, like many curious teenagers, began to dabble in the paranormal.

My first run-in with an actual ghost came at an interesting time: my wedding night. It was wedding number one of three, and it was also my first foray into living outside the semi-protective walls of my childhood home.

My ex-husband and I had a taste for the kind of luxury that I had not experienced in my parents’ home. We had planned a five-star honeymoon, starting with two nights at the Sheraton Park Plaza hotel in New Haven, before jetting off to Acapulco’s Las Brisas Hotel.

After our Friday night wedding and reception, tired and happy, we checked into the Sheraton and were given room 1413.

I didn’t think of the significance of that number at the time, but most hotels don’t have a thirteenth floor due to superstition, and the Sheraton was no exception.  We were actually assigned room 1313.

We were both exhausted after our long day of ceremonies and celebrations, but, wedding nights being wedding nights, I primped in front of the bathroom mirror for nearly an hour, preparing myself for our first time as an officially married couple.

I slinked seductively into the bedroom, dressed in the white satin negligee that my older sister had gifted me with at my bridal shower; my hair and make-up perfect. Gliding up to the bed, expecting an enthusiastic reception, I found my beloved—snoring. Yup! Out like a light.

I couldn’t wake him for love nor money. I actually took pictures of him asleep in our hotel bed with my little Kodak 110 Instamatic film camera so that I could harass him at a later date in front of our friends. Hey, I looked perfect with my 1980’s BIG hair and sparkly eyelids, and there was nobody to appreciate it!

Since short of dumping the ice bucket over him, (which would not have been conducive to marital harmony or a comfortable night’s sleep) there was absolutely no way of waking him, I sighed and slid my bridal self into the bed and closed my eyes. After a full day of last-minute wedding preparations, as well as the exertion of the wedding and reception itself, I found myself in the arms of Morpheus pretty quickly.

Something woke me in the wee hours of the morning. I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand: 4:13 AM. I had no idea why I would be awake at that ungodly hour—my first husband and I shared a passion for uninterrupted, deep sleep. I lifted my head to peer drowsily over our blanketed feet.

There, at the foot of my bed, stood a woman.

My first thought was, “Why is there a woman in my room?”

My second thought was, “Why is she transparent?”

I was wide awake in an instant, assessing the situation with whatever cognitive functions I had at that hour.

Then I realized that I could see the back of her—through the front of her—reflected in the large mirror over the long, low, hotel dresser that held the 19-inch color TV, as well as the bits and bobs my husband and I had left there throughout the evening.

She appeared to be an older woman in her 50’s, impeccably dressed in a bright red tailored suit, styled in the fashion of the early 1960’s. Her hair was coiffed in the bouffant style of that era, and it was obviously blonde-from-a bottle.

Her expensive jewelry glittered, and her lips were painted a wicked red that matched her fingernails. She exuded the appearance of affluence, but also of a woman trying hard to pretend the ravages of time had no impact on her.

I was transfixed, literally paralyzed, as with a quizzical look on her face, she raised her hand and crooked her index finger at me, raising it up and lowering it down in the universal symbol of “come here” or “follow me” that’s recognizable in any dimension—parallel or otherwise.

I couldn’t move; couldn’t even blink as I watched her continue to patiently motion me to follow. A moment later I realized that I wasn’t breathing, and as I released the gasp of terror I had been holding, my breath puffed out as a visible fog, as if I were outside on a December evening.

I tried to get my husband’s attention, saying his name in a terrified whisper, and then a bit louder. He never even moved his position. He was in a warm, safe bubble while I was outside in the wilderness facing down a banshee.

After the space of a few more frozen breaths, I was finally released from my paralyzed state, and did what any red-blooded Catholic would do: I pulled the covers over my head and began frantically reciting the Our Father and the
Hail Mary.

Several tense moments passed. I kept expecting to feel a hand grab my blanketed foot, or worse, a frigid touch on my exposed fingertips, which were white and bloodless due to the death grip I had on the blanket.

Then the atmosphere around me warmed and I chanced a peek over the top of my protective covers, searching the room, starting at the foot of the bed.

I let out a sigh of relief. She was gone, and I instantly fell asleep.

When I woke in the morning, I had no memory of my nighttime visitor, nor the terror I had felt. I teased my husband about his desertion of me on our wedding night, but only the part about his falling asleep on his negligee-clad, perfect-hair-and-make-up bride. I didn’t remember anything else.

As I mentioned earlier, we had two nights booked in room 1413 of the Sheraton Park Plaza Hotel, New Haven.

The following evening we hosted a large, boisterous party in our hotel room with a dozen of our closest friends. Saturday Night Live was on TV, and the booze was flowing freely. I was not much of a drinker. I never liked feeling out of control of my mental faculties so, after a couple of glasses of champagne I abstained for the rest of the evening, enjoying the sparkling wit of our friends more than the Brut.

By 2:00 a.m. everyone had left. (There may or may not have been a less-than-polite request from the front desk.) My husband and I settled into bed. We had a very early call for our flight to Acapulco, so once again we abstained from marital relations in favor of a few short hours of sleep.

Something woke me once more; exactly 4:13 a.m.—the same time as the previous night’s visitation. I peered over the tops of my feet to see the transparent woman-in-red staring at me.

This time she wasn’t looking at me quizzically. Something had changed. She was irate, whether at my lack of understanding or my lack of backbone, I’ll never know, because one look at her wildly gesticulating hands and thundercloud-brow had me immediately diving under my blankets, my lips forming the Catholic prayers of my childhood before the sheets even settled over my head.

I had learned enough in my years of flirting with unseen forces that you never follow any non-corporeal being when they ask you to follow, especially not into a mirror! Visions of my new husband waking to an empty bed, with no trace of his bride to be found did not appeal to my sense of fair play, and I had no intention of becoming yet another “Abducted by Aliens?” headline in the National Enquirier.

After several minutes with no ghostly ‘touchy-feely’, I peeked out of the faux safety of my blanket fortress and she was gone. This time I tried to wake my husband, but the ghost had more consciousness than he did!

I was shaking like a leaf, but still had enough awareness to be seriously irritated at the interruption to my slumbers, and after quickly eyeballing the room, I rolled over and fell asleep, once more completely forgetting about the nocturnal visits by the see-thru fashion-maven.

Not surprisingly, we overslept and had to scramble to make our flight, so this episode stayed buried in my subconscious, until one night, months later, when we hosted a dinner party and the talk at the table turned to ghost stories.

I don’t remember what was said to trigger the memory, but it all flooded back. Our friends joked at the time that it was probably an omen, and even though I don’t believe in the power of such things, our marriage did end seven years later.

I never did find out what this ghost was trying to tell me, but at the time I was probably better off not knowing.

Being a medium and a clairvoyant doesn’t come with a guidebook, but it does come with Guides. Sometimes, your Guides allow you to have certain experiences—not necessarily pleasant ones—as part of your training curriculum.

Much of my exposure to the Other Side at that point had been limited to a childlike appreciation of the Faery world, a kind of innocent enchantment (even if it held some aspects that were not so innocent). As a young woman, old enough to be married and venture out into the world, I was ready for a more advanced curriculum, and an introduction to the world of earthbound spirits.

I didn’t know then that it was a world in which I would spend much of my work and my life.







A Belated Thank You Note

Greetings to all of the dear people who have contributed to my healing:

 This letter comes a bit late, but there are reasons for that which I will address as I write this belated thank you note to all of you who donated financially and energetically to the campaign to support my healing.

First off, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! One of my core issues has always been the belief that I am not quite good enough to deserve the love and acknowledgement that I have so often received from my friends and clients over the years. So many of you have told me of the positive impact that I have made in your lives; however, despite this validation of my gifts, as well as your love and appreciation of me being ‘just me’, like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’, I always felt that “the bad things are easier to believe”.

Since this campaign – started by my friend Tessa who would not take ‘no’ for an answer, and who has always had my back in spite of myself – that story has begun to crumble in the face of so much love and acknowledgment. It didn’t matter what amount you gave, whether in the form of financial support or simply acknowledging my worth to you with love and prayers, the outpouring from so many people was like a tsunami which could not be denied. I was bowled over and under by the wave of your love and I was unable to keep my feet in the sand of my “not lovable and therefore worthless” story. Even as I write this there are tears of gratitude in my eyes, as there have often been since the start of all this. As my Native American medicine woman teacher would say, “my heart is full!”

Now on to the next matter, updating you as to my progress.

My oncologist is very happy with how the cancer has responded to my treatment. The tumors in my breast and lymph nodes are shrinking and those in my spine are dying and scarring over. Unfortunately, the side effects of the treatment have been very challenging for a woman who a year ago was hitting the gym 5 times a week (and doing 3 sets of 200 lbs. on the ab press), with an exciting future ahead. My book was nearly finished and a flagship Barnes and Noble store here in IL wanted 100 copies to start. I was also researching bookstores in England where I could go and give talks, as well as spiritual centers all over the US.

Then I was hit with tremendous loss – so large that even a psychic medium such as myself had trouble navigating it. Between last Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day I lost 5 dear friends to cancer. I spent the holidays on the east coast dealing with several of them, and by the time I returned to Chicago, I already knew that physically something wasn’t right – I felt more fatigued than would be normal for me, even as I explained it away as unresolved grief. When I arrived home on January 15th, I was informed by my landlord that he had put the house on the market while I was away and I would need to start looking for another place to live. I loved my home and it was wrenching to be told immediately after all of the loss I had just been through that I would have to uproot AGAIN and expend more energy in searching for a place to live. A month later I was hospitalized with cellulitis and it was then discovered that my cancer had returned with a vengeance – 4th stage metastatic breast cancer which had moved into my thoracic and lumbar spine. Let’s just say I was pretty much ready to check out. My insurance didn’t cover my treatment because it was with pharmaceuticals rather than infusion and so now, instead of being able to rest and convalesce, I was being forced to find a place to live, as well as research programs that might help me pay for my treatment, all while I continued to work because I still had bills to pay. Is it any wonder that I had many moments of wanting to ‘give up and go home’?

As I said previously, in stepped Tessa and all of you, making it worth my while to stick it out – thank you for saving my life. Did I tell you that? Your generosity and love did far more than support me materially, it made me realize that perhaps my life was worth fighting for.

So, side effects. The first and biggest side effect was the return of the deep depression and anxiety that I had not had to deal with since before I moved out to Chicago. The drugs I am taking are hormonally based and this was the reason that I could not take any form of birth control pill and had deep post-partum depressions after each childbirth – I react badly to hormones, particularly the estrogen on which the medications are based. The despair was pretty bad – even with your support. Over the last 4 months I have been taking synthetic anti-depressants and I can honestly say that a few days ago I had a random moment of joy, and my therapist believes that I have turned a corner. Other side effects include insomnia (never a problem for me in my life before), fatigue, water weight gain, nausea, loss of appetite, ‘chemo-brain’, hair loss (luckily I had such a full head of hair to begin with it’s hardly noticeable) and tremendous pain – particularly in my spine where the cancer is ‘flaring up’ as it fights to remain. I have had to cut back on my daily sessions (from 5 to 3) and make sure that I get a nap every day (although when you feel as if you have drunk a pot of espresso, a light doze is about all you can hope for). I am grateful that I haven’t been able to find the right living space yet, as it put me back living with my friends and receiving their love and support on a daily basis. Even more, I am living with my cancer coach Susi Roos, the woman who saved my life during the first go-round of cancer.

The reasons for the lateness of this thank you note are described above – the depression being the most prominent. However, I am much better now and taking actions to help move myself forward. I just completed a 5 week detox program under Susi’s aegis and dropped close to 30 lbs., as well as feeling much better physically. I have started writing again (hence this letter) and hope to have my manuscript ready for editing by October. I am leading a monthly meetup group at an area café bookstore (where I also hope to debut my book) doing spirit messages for grieving people, which I hope to expand to bimonthly, with the second meeting being a teaching session for people  who wish to explore spirit communication for themselves.

All of this would not have been possible, or at least would have been much more of a struggle, without all of you. So, please accept my love and gratitude, as well as my acknowledgement of the gift each and every one of you has been in my life and will continue to be in the future.

May your gifts to me be returned 10,000-fold back to you and yours!

Much love and many blessings,


In closing, I would just like to say that I am looking forward to reconnecting with all of you; however, please be patient with me. If you don’t receive a response to an email or text, think, ‘oh yeah, she has chemo brain’ and resend. It’s gotten better, but I am still challenged in the ‘out of sight, out of my mind’ category!

Nobody Knows the Hauntings I’ve Seen

The Haunting at the Catholic Cemetery  

Among the many stories I have from my work as a psychic medium, one of the more powerful happened when I ‘accidently’ connected with hundreds of souls trapped in a vision of burning in Hell, who were interred in a Catholic cemetery in Derby, CT.
As I have mentioned in previous stories in this book, what we experience when we die is informed by what we believe when we leave the body, especially if there is fear-based emotion involved. This is not set in stone, as many people who judged themselves as being bad are greeted with loving Beings at their death and go directly into Light. However, there are many who have been taught about an ‘angry’ God, who never resolved their fear-based beliefs before death and therefore had to resolve them after they died, before they could go on to the next level. I also recognize that these particular souls have agreed to ‘karmic contracts’ to undergo this experience for soul evolution and growth – “whatever happens has to happen”, as my Master Teacher Sathya Sai Baba says – so it really is all for our good.
About a decade ago I was looking for an apartment with my then partner, that would be large enough to fit our various children. We were touring one such place in Derby, CT that seemed perfect. It had four bedrooms, a laundry room complete with washer and dryer, a fully applianced kitchen and two full bathrooms – an absolute must for the four children and two adults who’d be living there. It had obviously been decorated in the late 60’s given the predominance of avocado, burnt orange and brown, but it was clean and in good shape. Given all that, I couldn’t understand why the longer I stayed, the sicker I felt.
At the time I wasn’t quite as versed in dealing with darker energies as I am now.
At one point we were looking at a back bedroom when I happened to glance out of the window to check out the backyard.
There, in the back of the building, was the reason for my discomfort. A very large cemetery directly abutted the property, to the point where a few of the headstones had fallen over into the backyard. It was delightfully gothic, what with the sculptures and the gray tombstones, while the overcast grayness of the day added to the atmosphere. Had I been a horror writer, I could not have asked for a better setting for murder, mayhem and melancholy. A very large angel-with-a flaming-sword statue was visible from where I stood and looked to be next to a small chapel, as are present in most large graveyards. The real estate agent mumbled something about it being “St. Something-or-other’s Catholic cemetery” and herded us out of the room.
By this time, I was dealing with the Unseen on a regular basis in my line of work, and ordinarily graveyards don’t bother me – as a child I was fascinated by them and I spent a great deal of time in the old churchyards in the center of West Haven, CT, where I grew up. There are even a few revolutionary war heroes buried in one. However, the more I had stood and looked at the graves, the worse I felt physically, until I had to excuse myself and step out of the house to get some fresh air before I vomited all over the shag carpeting. My partner had no problem with the graveyard – his issue was with the rusted out cars in the yard that appeared to belong to one of the other tenants. He was concerned for our childrens’ safety – a perfectly legitimate worry, all things considered.
We thanked the real estate agent and left, and the long ride back, coupled with the open windows and fresh air helped me regain my equilibrium.
That should have been the end of the story, except it wasn’t. A whole host of ghostly characters followed me home from that cemetery and without so much as a ‘by your leave’ entered into my dreams that night.
The dream in and of itself was horrific in its technicolor brilliance – hundreds of souls burning in the bright red and orange fires of hell, while little black demons tormented them emotionally with taunts, and physically with the lash. Larger cloven-hooved devils applied even worse tortures to other suffering souls. Saint John of Patmos could not have created a more frightening vision of hell.
In the midst of all of this, I was merely an observer – a horrified and uncomfortable observer, but an observer just the same. I knew that what I was seeing was an illusion – a creation of the collective mind of the souls who were trapped within the horror of their belief system.
A quick word about graveyards, funeral parlors and other places where death is fully present in all its glory: If the area is not cleared and sealed on a regular basis, then the humans who come into these places with fear-based thoughts, as well as the energy of grief and anger (anger with the person who passed, or even with God Itself, is a completely normal response under these circumstances) can pull the vibration of the energy down, inviting in lower vibrational entities and thought forms which then continue to feed off of the misery that is engendered in humans by the death of a loved one. Once these entities are powerful enough, they can lead the souls of the newly departed astray before the Light has a chance to claim them. (Please remember this is all an illusory drama and if a soul chooses (because it is fully in control of Its own destiny) to remain outside of the Light, it is for a reason that was already predetermined before It was born into a human body.) Even if a cemetery was consecrated at its inception, that blessing literally gets worn down by the hundreds, if not thousands of lower vibrational energies that are brought to it with each new funeral. Many of my students and clients are surprised when they discover (or I relate to them in story form) that demonic energy can exist in a consecrated graveyard or even within the church itself. If you have a priest or minister who is preaching hellfire and damnation to their congregation, they are engendering fear thoughts in a group of people, which makes it that much more powerful. When Christ said, “where two or more of you gather, there I am also”, he meant that if two or more people focus on a particular energy, that energy is present even more strongly than if just one person was invoking it. This is a form of powerful mysticism and it works with any energy, which is why mobs are so dangerous – fear and anger energy builds, a scapegoat is chosen and bad things happen that average people ordinarily would never do. Think of the mob that nailed Jesus (the mother of all scapegoats) to the cross. I always make it clear to my students that they need to clear and seal themselves and their space regularly, just as you would shower or vacuum your home regularly. I call it ‘having good energetic hygiene’. Unfortunately, since Copernicus and the Age of Reason, magick and mystery have all but disappeared from our day-to-day lives. A pity, given that the Unseen exists whether you believe in it or not.
The souls within my nighttime vision had been trapped by a demonic presence that was ruling the cemetery. Those that were destined to escape this vision of hell went into the Light well before they were faced with this; however, these hundreds of souls were caught in their own fears. I knew I was being shown this storyboard for a reason, but I had no idea what to do. Suddenly to my right, a light started growing and taking shape. It quickly became apparent that Mother Mary, the Blessed Mother of Jesus had joined me. The cool blue and white glow around her turquoise colored robes was an incredibly beautiful contrast to the red orange flames that burned around her. She looked at me and began to say the ‘Hail Mary’, using a beautifully carved rosary. I immediately joined her and I had barely gotten to the second round when I awoke from sleep chanting the words to the prayer I’d known since toddlerhood. “Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou amongst women, and Blessed is the Fruit of thy Womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” My partner looked at me strangely, but made no comment, luckily for me because I had no words other than this chant to Mother Mary in my head.
It didn’t feel complete to me, so I called a dear friend who was a few levels up on the ‘Spiritual Richter Scale’ to help me decipher what had happened and what, if anything, needed to be done. She felt that a shared meditation was in order to discover the meaning of this vision and so we chanted our way into an altered state and saw that Mother Mary was requesting that I lead these souls out of hell and into Light. My friend was to act as the anchor to help keep part of me grounded in third dimensional reality while I was the one descending into this illusion of hell to be the bringer of Mother Mary’s message of forgiveness and freedom to the suffering souls there. It actually went more quickly than I expected, probably because of the work that the Blessed Mother had already done through me during my nighttime vision. Between the two of us, Mary and I opened a huge portal of Light and invited all souls to go through it – even the lower vibrational entities that were present (no one is excluded from God’s loving redemption). While my friend and I continued to chant the Hail Mary, every being present went through the portal with very little resistance. The ‘hell’ that had been created through the thought-energy of the humans simply faded away into dust and I came out of the meditation weeping with joy at the Divine Love and Compassion that made this healing for hundreds of souls – both human and inhuman – possible and effortless.
Please understand that although it was the God-form of Mother Mary who appeared, any form of ‘God’ would have worked as well. Divine Mother was there because a) it was a Catholic cemetery and therefore the icons of Catholicism were needed for the souls to recognize and trust, and b) I was raised a Catholic and use that foundation when I am working with people raised in the Catholic tradition — you need a common spiritual language that people recognize and with which they resonate. This is why I ultimately became an interfaith minister — I needed to have several different religious languages in my tool bag to help people from various traditions understand what the Divine wishes for them to know.
After this situation I became very clear that salvation is for all of Creation, not just a select few, and that even inhuman entities were being called home to the Light to remember ‘Who They Are’.


Death and I Are Old Buddies

I Must Be Living Challenged…

…because I’ve nearly died four times this lifetime. So, my life hasn’t been easy given the various challenges I’ve faced since my umbilical-cord-around-the-neck birth. I was probably trying to hang myself on the way in and just get it over with before it all began. However, I’m not going to bore you with my life story — just four little episodes where I nearly ‘met my maker’ as the saying goes.

The first started with a respiratory illness during the final weeks of my pregnancy with my fourth daughter (I have five). She was supposed to have been a home birth, like my third. I had such a great experience with it, I figured I’d try it again. Unfortunately, my daughter had other ideas and became stressed, what with all the hacking up a lung and stuff. I had an emergency c-section, which actually went pretty well. That wasn’t the problem. The problem happened when my pulse dropped below 20 beats per minute and decided to stay that way. I was at Yale-New Haven Hospital in Connecticut — close to where I grew up. As you can tell by the name, it was affiliated with Yale University and a great teaching hospital. It’s also just a great hospital all-around. They never figured out why my pulse dropped so low — it still does occasionally — but one of the best anecdotes EVER came out of this little story.

I was dozing in the hospital bed and awoke to the feel of cool fingers on my wrist. I opened one eye and beheld a gaggle of student nurses being overseen by an older woman I assumed was their trainer. In a low voice she said, “Now I want everyone to feel this woman’s pulse. It’s the lowest pulse a person can have without being DEAD.” Luckily for her I have an appreciation of the macabre AND the absurd, and she just happened to mix the two — kind of like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, which I used to love but can’t eat anymore, but that’s a WHOLE other story…

Second installment to come…

Mary Says



This is where I share things that interest me, places I’ve been, synchronicities that I’ve experienced, as well as anecdotal stories about the magickal life I’ve lived. I will also offer links to other websites that have caught my eye. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.