Chris Burnett A MURDERER’S GHOST!
What a sad complicated mix those we would deem monsters truly are.
The ghost who walks into my meditation this morning is the ghost of a murderer! He presents as an average looking man from the 1940s or 50s, and has a sort of James Dean look with jeans, white tee, black boots and slicked back hair. He appears to be in his early to mid-thirties.
He frightens me if only for a second, which is very unusual because I have always known how safe I am in meditation space. But he is a combination of tough, scared and mean. I see within him a mean streak that gripped him so tightly, I wonder how he breathed. Big drinker too. Had he lived he would have been a raging alcoholic. His name is Frank and it seems that he hails from the Midwest, maybe Kansas, but has lived as a drifter for a time.
I ask what we can do for him. He stares into my eyes as if judging me. Taking his hands in mine I see the gargantuan effort it takes for him to not pull away and I give him credit for it. This is the signal that he is ready to talk, ready to open up.
“Frank, what can I do for you,” I ask again. His eyes show deep wells of absolute darkness of his tortured state. Living was hell for him and it still shows to this day, as do the fires of pain and rage boiling inside of him, creating an inferno that allows him no peace.
A vision suddenly appears of him shooting a young girl who is approximately eleven years old. Cushioning his finger as it pulls the trigger is Frank’s denial of life, the denial of his rage and denial of what was done to him as a child. Furthermore, the denial of what life had offered to him over and over, offerings that led to and fed his frustration and hatred.
For Frank, killing others is the act of the bully, of the power-monger who says, “I can destroy whatever I want!” His rage and hatred dictate his violent nature. Behind all the rage is an awful childhood full of violence that supported the emergence of the monster who would pull the trigger. But also shown is the aftermath of his killing, the tortured part of Frank who never understood the raging monster inside of him.
I have to stop and take a few deep breaths to relieve what I have just seen. Then I let go of Frank’s hands and place my hands on his cheeks and look more deeply into his eyes, where another vision is shown of other people that he also killed. I can’t tell how many, but the young girl was not the only one. Also shown is the willful rape of at least one woman and his unconscionable treatment of others.
“Oh Frank,” I say in sympathy for the life he lived, but I also understand that he does not need sympathy or coddling. He needs resolution. So, I breathe deeply and repeat my favorite mantra given to me by the Spirit Guides years ago, “In my breath is my strength. In my breath is my strength.” This helps me to refocus and center again on the healing of Frank’s life through his return to the light.
“What do you need, Frank?” I ask again, but this time with the strength in my voice that says the buck stops here, let’s get this resolved.
He plaintively looks into my eyes and tells me he has to see her, the girl he shot. A hideous fear of doing so crowds his eyes, causing me to wonder where he got the gumption to come in today. After all he has been stuck as a ghost for how long?
I send out a call to the Spirit Guides for help so that we may view this young girl. Meanwhile, I take my hands from his face and lead him over to a bench where we may sit. As we wait for help, I take his left hand in both of mine and have to admit to worry here; worry about seeing what Frank did, but as I do my needless worrying, a Guide walks in.
This Spirit Guide is from Frank’s childhood, but I am not sure who he is in relation to Frank. General confusion sets in on Frank’s face as he sees this man, but there is a touch of happiness also, which sets off Frank’s alarms. He does not allow happiness as he has no right to it because of the life he lived. He damned himself to eternal unhappiness long ago. If truly there was a hell, it sure would be a lot easier for Frank because someone other than himself would have sentenced him. Unfortunately, as we know, there is no hell. Instead, here is Frank, lost only to himself and the desperate grip of rot. At least this is what he believes, but the arrival of this Spirit Guide allows the tiniest glimmer of hope for Frank, but this same hope causes him difficulty because he cannot allow hope for he knows he simply does not deserve it. What a conundrum!
The Guide sits on the other side of Frank and projects a vision about six feet out in front of us. This vision is of Frank killing the girl. We see this vision over and over and over until it becomes rote and no longer holds any surprise. I ask Frank to look at me and when he does, I smile the biggest smile, a smile just for him. Along with the smile for Frank is a measure of love and understanding for the part he had to play in his life. I say to him, “Divine order” and allow time for that sink into his consciousness. He is so scared; he is literally trembling. What a sad complicated mix those we would deem monsters truly are. Frank asks me how he can face anyone else, knowing how they might view his despicable life. In response, I can only ask him what or who helped to make him mean, what caused his internal rot and hatred? Where did he get the personality that held so much hate? He refuses to blame his actions on anyone else and I understand this because I cannot imagine that he would have the tools to understand what powered his life.
The Guide grabs my attention as he projects an image in his own eyes of the healing place he will take Frank. It is located in deep consciousness where the human ghost/life is allowed to slowly unwind, thereby showing the cause and effect of every act in life, all of this taking place in what will seem like an extended period of time.
“A reversal of life,” I say to the Spirit Guide as I understand that Frank will be shown his life in minute detail all the way back to his Spirit entering his body for birth on Earth. While I am communing with the Guide, Frank continues to stare into my eyes, locked into the lifeline we have offered today and I wonder how much of the vision I see in the Guide’s eyes is available to Frank in mine.
The Spirit Guide touches Frank on the shoulder and Frank slowly turns to him. But in front of us now, larger than life itself, is the vision of the girl leaving her body as she died. Because it was such a powerful gun and direct hit, she died immediately. Watching her leave her body is so heart-wrenchingly beautiful, Frank and I are both overcome by the rapture of the release that death allows us. In this moment, I cannot wait to die so that I too may experience this release. Believe me when I say I don’t want to die, but what we have witnessed in her death is beauty of pure rapture.
We see the ethereal being, who stood with open arms waiting for the girl as she died. How can death be any more beautiful or glorious? Again, I have the desire to die this very minute if I might experience the same as her in death. Instead, I quickly bring myself back to reality, take a couple of deep breaths, and bring my awareness back to the bench where we sit. Frank has experienced this glorious moment in his own way. He believes that he saw the girl look back at him and smile before leaving with the ethereal Spirit and this smile gives Frank new hope that there might be one salvageable piece of him somewhere inside. He stands now and tells the Guide in a most plaintive, hurting voice that he is ready, that he wants to go home.
The Guide and I stand with Frank. Taking Frank’s face in my hands, I look deeply into his eyes, smiling with all the imagination I can muster, imagination and inspiration for the trip he is about to take. I am given the quickest glimpse into the healed spirit Frank becomes and hopefully that image is also seen by Frank. He lets out an enormous sigh and in it I hear the call of the whales. I am dumbfounded by this call, but reminded right away that the whales’ call might be a universal one that brooks no nonsense in requiring a human’s answer. I understand that something caused Frank to surface into this meditation today in answer to his own call. Was it the whales’ call? And then I wonder why this topic would even enter this meditation, but Spirit always has its own agenda in these meditations, so in short, I give thanks for the whales’ reminders.
Frank turns to the Guide and holds out his hand, so the Spirit Guide takes it and they start walking away and as I watch, the most amazing thing happens. With each step they take, Frank becomes younger and younger until finally he becomes a five-year-old walking with his grandpa, not a care in the world as life simply springs from each lively step he takes.
excerpt from 17 Ghost Stories by Chris Burnett and Guides