Every year for Samhain I publish accounts of my more charged, and in some cases creepy, spiritual pursuits. The Dead Time is a treasured journey to Solstice, and as it is a time of untime, the shadowed season presents a great opportunity to tell the stories that many who do shamanic work won’t tell–the occasions when things don’t go well or the unseen presents itself unexpectedly. You may recognize some of these accounts from my previous stories, while others are more recent. Enjoy the solitude of encroaching darkness. The light will return soon enough.
The house I grew up in was a pretty busy place, spiritually speaking. All who lived there, and select guests, had some creepy experiences. Years later, I learned that our neighbors did, too. I guess you could say, this is where it all began… House on Summit Drive.