The Living Have More Power Than We Think

Lately, I’ve been thinking about fear.

More specifically, the fear people sometimes have when they believe there may be a spirit in their home.

I understand where it comes from.

For most of us, our earliest ideas about ghosts came from stories designed to frighten us. A door moves on its own. Something whispers in the dark. A figure appears at the end of a hallway.

Cue the music.

But after years of my own experiences and now investigating alongside Morrighan and Jonathan, I don’t fear the unknown.

If anything, the more I experience, the less frightening it becomes.

I’ve been touched.

I’ve heard whispers.

I’ve watched things move.

I’ve stood in rooms knowing very clearly that we were not the only ones in them.

And most of the time, what was happening wasn’t an attempt to frighten me.

It was an attempt to communicate.

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Prefer to listen? This Field Notes entry is available as an audio recording below.

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What If They’re Just Trying to Get Our Attention?

Imagine having something to say without being able to speak in the way you once did.

How would you get someone’s attention?

Maybe you move something.

Maybe you make a sound.

Maybe you touch someone on the arm.

Maybe you stand close enough that they can feel your presence.

To the person experiencing it, any one of those things can be startling.

But startling and threatening are not the same thing.

That distinction has become important to me.

When something unexpected happens during an investigation, my first instinct isn’t to assume we’re in danger.

I want to know why it happened.

Who is trying to communicate?

What are they trying to tell us?

Is there something they need?

Sometimes the answer is simple.

Sometimes it leads us somewhere we never expected.

And sometimes we encounter someone who is confused, carrying trauma, searching for another person, or unaware that they have died.

Fear doesn’t help me understand any of that.

Curiosity does.

Compassion does.

Listening does.

When Something Wanted Me to Be Afraid

That doesn’t mean I believe every interaction is friendly.

Years ago, I had an experience in my own home with a spirit that seemed very clearly interested in intimidating me.

It manifested in front of me.

And I knew exactly what it was trying to do.

It wanted a reaction.

It wanted me to be afraid.

So I smiled.

And I said no.

That was it.

I didn’t yell.

I didn’t challenge it.

I didn’t run.

I simply made it clear that whatever game it was trying to play, I wasn’t participating.

The manifestation disappeared.

The spirit didn’t disappear from the house.

But it never tried to intimidate me that way again.

That experience taught me something I have carried with me ever since.

The living have more power than we sometimes realize.

This Is Our Plane

When something is happening in your own home that makes you uncomfortable, you are allowed to set boundaries.

This is our plane.

We live here.

And in my experience, most spirits will respect the ground rules when they are clearly established.

You can say that you don’t want to be touched.

You can say that certain rooms are off limits.

You can say that you don’t want to be awakened at night.

You can say that something needs to stop.

There is nothing disrespectful about having boundaries.

We establish them with the living all the time.

Why would we assume we lose that ability simply because the person we are communicating with no longer has a physical body?

For me, understanding that changed the balance completely.

I don’t enter a room thinking about what a spirit might be able to do to me.

I know what I am able to say to them.

Respect Goes Both Ways

There is another side to that.

When we enter someone else’s home or another location to investigate, I don’t believe being alive gives us permission to behave however we want.

We are guests.

And sometimes we may be entering a space that someone in spirit still considers theirs.

I wouldn’t walk into a stranger’s home and start yelling.

I wouldn’t demand that they speak to me.

I wouldn’t throw their belongings around to provoke a reaction.

So I’m certainly not going to do those things during an investigation.

We introduce ourselves.

We explain why we’re there.

We ask questions.

We listen.

And we try to understand who we may be communicating with before deciding what that interaction means.

Because if someone is still lingering in a place, there may be a reason.

Trauma.

Confusion.

An attachment to a person or place.

A responsibility they still believe they need to fulfill.

Or perhaps they simply don’t understand what has happened to them.

Whatever the reason, I want to meet them with respect before anything else.

Fear Changes the Conversation

I think this is ultimately why fear rarely enters the equation for me.

When I walk into a location, I’m not thinking about what might happen to me.

I’m thinking about who might be there.

And whether there is anything we can do for them.

That changes the conversation.

Something moving in another room becomes a reason to ask a question.

A whisper becomes something to listen to.

A touch becomes an attempt to get my attention.

And if something does cross a boundary?

I say so.

If something is trying to intimidate me?

I don’t give it the fear it is looking for.

And if things ever get particularly complicated, I have Morrighan and Jonathan standing beside me.

We’ll take care of business.

What Fear Gives Away

Maybe that is what all of these experiences have taught me most.

Fear can convince us that we are powerless before we have any reason to believe that we are.

I don’t believe we are.

The unknown doesn’t frighten me simply because I don’t understand it yet.

I would rather ask the question.

I would rather listen.

I would rather find out who is standing on the other side of the conversation and why they are trying so hard to be heard.

Because most of the spirits I’ve encountered weren’t trying to become someone’s ghost story.

They were trying to communicate.

Some needed help.

Some needed boundaries.

Some simply wanted to be acknowledged.

And yes, every once in a while, one may try to scare me.

They’re welcome to try.

I know where I stand.

This is our plane.

And I’m not afraid.

Field Notes

Field Notes are personal reflections from my ongoing investigations, historical research, and conversations across the South. They are not meant to provide definitive answers, only honest observations gathered along the way.

Until next time…

Stay close.