Do ghosts have sex?

Posted by Jessica Jewett 46 Comments »
This is one of the most common questions I get asked, whether there is sex in the afterlife or not.

Short answer: yes.

Aside from the need for procreation in the physical world, sex is the most intense expression of love that people can share. It’s healthy and nature’s way of relieving pain, improving moods, releasing endorphins, and so forth. The moment of orgasm is as close as we can get to exposing the soul and experiencing the level of bliss that souls experience in the afterlife. Sex is a gift from the universe, your higher power, God, whatever you want to call it, and should be enjoyed freely and safely.

Just as there are a million different types of sexual activity in the physical world, so too are there in the spirit world. Some are dangerous. Some are to express love. Some are recreation based on lust. Here is a basic rundown of the terminology.

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Spectrophilia – This is defined as sexual attraction and/or sexual activity with a ghost. This connection is between a living person and a disembodied soul. It’s an umbrella term that covers all types of sexual encounters that concern interaction between the living and the dead. Not to be confused, however, with necrophilia, which is sexual attraction to dead bodies. We are not talking about that.

Succubus – On the dark side of spectrophilia, an encounter with a succubus is a dangerous thing. Succubi (plural) are, according to longstanding mythology, demons that take the form of women and drain energy from living men by having sex with them. The Biblical figure, Lilith, is often described as a succubus and also as a vampire. She was Adam’s first wife but was cast out of Eden because she wanted to be on top, aka dominant, during sex. Her image became dominant after that and, depending on who you ask, she is now a succubus or a vampire taking out her anger on men and babies.

Incubus – Just as the succubus is a female demon controlling and draining men through sex, an incubus is the male demonic counterpart. He is known to lie upon a living woman, have sex with her, and according to some traditions, impregnate her as with Merlin.

While much of the incubi and succubi mythology is exaggerated and expanded upon over time, the basic concept is based in truth. There are a few known cases in the paranormal community of sexual assaults, sometimes rather violent, associated with hauntings. People who toy with the spirit world without really knowing what they’re doing often unknowingly welcome demonic activity and sometimes it takes the form of succubi or incubi. In many cases, people are quite embarrassed to speak of being sexually assaulted by something they can’t see, so many of such attacks remain unreported. It’s unclear how often this sort of thing happens due to the stigma attached to it.

Astral travel, astral projection, out-of-body experience – The majority of people are not aware of it consciously but we all can and do leave our bodies from time to time. Think of it like a vacation for your soul. Living in the restrictive confines of the body is like being stuck at work 24 hours a day and a break is necessary sometimes. While we sleep, we have the ability to leave the body and visit loved ones in spirit, see different places in the world, etc. Those who aware of leaving the body have reported merging with other souls at times.

Merging – Merging is the word most used to describe the sexual union between two souls outside of the confines of the physical body. We say merging because the act is quite literally two soul energies merging together. It causes the same euphoric release that people experience at the point of orgasm. It is possible to merge with a disembodied soul while outside of your body but it is rare. It takes an extremely strong emotional bond with the other soul and the right conditions. Usually the intensity of the act causes the person to retreat back into the body before they want to but they never forget the encounter.

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The need to express love in a physical and spiritual manner like sex does not go away when we die, as you can see. Death is not really the end. It’s just life taking on another form more comfortable for the soul. Sexual encounters with spirits don’t get talked about very much, but when they do, it’s generally with a snicker and juvenile giggling. It does seem a bit far-fetched until you’ve actually experienced it. However, those who have experienced it are quite serious and genuine in their claims.

I have heard several stories about spouses dying seemingly before their times and leaving widows and widowers behind. It appears that in cases of exceptionally close spouses very deeply in love, sexual encounters do still happen. Sometimes the person won’t see anything but goes through the entire sexual encounter feeling real sensations of hands, breath, lips, penetration, and so forth. The legitimate cases for me have a ring of truth when the person doesn’t know what to make of it and didn’t go seeking such a thing. While they feel love and physical bliss through these encounters, the legitimate cases tend to wonder why it’s happening and they become concerned that their loved ones aren’t moving on in death. Only when people seem overly excited about spectrophilia do I become suspicious about their claims. It is a romantic idea to think that your spouse loves you enough to continue making love to you in death, but the truth is, such activities should not be encouraged because it keeps people from fully living their lives. It is necessary for both parties to move on and continue their journeys when death parts them. Contact between spirits and the living should never be so constant or intense that it holds back the natural progression of life.

In addition to continuing sexual relationships in this lifetime, it also happens with souls from previous lives who are not incarnated at this moment. These incidences can be frightening for people who don’t have past life memories or the ability to really recognize a lover from a past life. Sometimes it can feel like violation or like something is wrong mentally if a person doesn’t understand it. Since nobody really talks about it out of embarrassment and fear, there isn’t really a fighting chance of figuring out the truth enough to resolve the situation one way or another. I have devoted my life to understanding the nature of the soul and even I didn’t know about these things until it happened to me and I worked up the nerve to ask my mentor. Luckily for me, I recognized the spirit involved by scent and overall feeling (my former husband, Joshua L. Chamberlain), so the potentially frightening situation was diffused quickly. His spiritual presence in my present life is as a background figure that sometimes makes more direct contact. Incidences this intense, however, are rare. I do not cling to the past like some people aware of previous lives and that is in large part because he keeps his distance enough for me to think of him lovingly but still desire new relationships and experiences.

I want to reiterate that incidences of spectrophilia are pretty rare. It takes a lot of energy for them to manifest in that way. They’re also not as wrapped up in earthly affairs as some might think, although the bond of love is not easily broken. Of course they miss us if we miss them. Sometimes love has to be expressed, even through the veil between spiritual and physical.

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The isolation of being an intuitive

Posted by Jessica Jewett 4 Comments »

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Last night I was looking at my calendar about a foot away from me when I saw a figure walk by my right side. It followed the path of my mother walking to her sewing table, so I started talking to her.

“Hey, are there any more of those mini chocolate cupcakes?”

No response. My mother is 75% deaf due to an accident with firecrackers as a child, so I thought she didn’t hear me. I asked again and still there was no response. I looked up and there was nobody there. Confused, I looked behind me and nobody was there either. A few minutes later, my mother came out of the bedroom on the other side of my apartment. She hadn’t walked by me at all, leaving me to the conclusion that it was another spirit.

Believe it or not, sometimes I still get creeped out even though I was born with this issue. I wasn’t in “intuitive mode” so I wasn’t even thinking about spiritual matters. It just happened.

I was up late last night again, unable to sleep as usual. There is nothing like the blackness of night to make a person feel completely alone in the world even under the best of circumstances. Slowly my thoughts drifted to what it might be like to actually live under the best of circumstances, a life not plagued by the feeling of responsibility for so many other souls. At any given time, I have dozens of people metaphorically pulling at my clothes asking for help because they just can’t handle things without guidance from a higher place. I remember sometimes when people used to look at me as a small child and tell my mother how eerie it was that I clearly exist with one foot in the spirit world and one foot in the physical world. I didn’t understand what they meant, being a little girl, but I become more and more acutely aware of it as I grow older.

I will be 30-years-old in February. As much as I have accomplished professionally, it seems like my personal life has been stagnate for a long time. Virtually all of the people who went to high school with me are now married with at least one child. Are they happy? I wonder that a lot when I come across them. That’s the thing about living in the South – you never really get away from the expectations people put on you when you were too young to really understand those expectations. I seem to be more aware now that I keep pushing off that ultimate personal relationship, not for a lack of desire, but more because of the underlying truth that the scope of people who would actually understand my life is so limited. The average person has no way of understanding what it means to live with an intuitive (or sensitive, medium, clairvoyant, psychic, etc., etc., etc.). We are night owls. We often struggle to sleep more than a few hours at a time. Some of us who are empathic feel crippling depression when worldwide tragedies happen. We are never really alone but we often feel lonely and misunderstood. We are basically “on call” constantly because spiritual problems don’t keep store hours. Regular people never seem to understand it enough to accept it as such a huge part of our lives. Giving it up is not really an option either, which is something that people rarely understand. It’s like trying to give up what you are, not just quitting your job. People can’t give up being their race or their gender any more than they can give up being intuitive.

I have so very few people who understand what my life is. Most of it is just because I simply don’t talk about it in constant detail. There are some parts of it that I talk about regularly but most of it I don’t – just as a doctor wouldn’t talk about his patients. I have two or three friends who I’ve known for so many years that I can talk about it if I need to but even then, my best friend since high school often says, “You’re the only one I know who has personal relationships with dead people.” I know. And when new people find out about what I am, I shrink into myself and clam up because I don’t know what they’re really thinking. I’m an intuitive, not a telepathic. For all I know, new people could be thinking, “This chick is crazy. Lock her up!” So that makes it tough to get closer to new people in my life. I live behind a wall and look out of the window at the rest of the world once in a while.

I’m not particularly interested in being married. I already went through that once with the big flashy ring and the man who walked all over me like a piece of property. Love is the joining of souls who enhance each other’s lives, not a piece of paper that says I’m legally bound to serve you for the rest of my life. Real, honest, genuine love from the purest place in the soul is so much bigger than the confines of marriage and even the short existence of this body. Love is holy. Marriage was invented for control. I want to find someone who loves me for every part of me, not just the “normal” parts. A big part of me doubts that I will find that in this lifetime. I have had it in previous lives and the burden of remembering it makes my standards high and I’m just not willing to settle for good enough. The life of someone who works with one foot in the spirit world and one foot in the physical world is fulfilling but lonely at the same time. I’m aware that I’m doing my best to help humanity evolve in my little ways but I’m aware that being public with who I am means I’m sacrificing a lot too.

Sometimes I meet some men who are involved with this way of living too but those relationships haven’t turned out well. I have found out the hard way that a certain level of ego skyrockets among some intuitives when they begin to realize their influence over people. It’s so easy to slip into taking the abilities into some dark place. If there is the slightest bit of an ego or something dark in a person, the realization of intuitive abilities is like throwing gasoline on that blaze. My ex-fiance didn’t bother to tell me until we were living together that he was involved in demonic activities. I only questioned him when the demonic activity he attracted started coming after my brother and me (a subject that I still can’t talk about openly without fear). Long after we broke up, I was involved with a man who was a medium and also had the ability to get into people’s minds in a way that I had never previously witnessed. Both of them turned their raw abilities into a means to exert control over things they should never have touched, whether it was other people or spiritual forces. I have yet to meet a man who uses his intuitive abilities for goodness and light rather than darkness and control in things that aren’t meant to be controlled. I know there are genuinely good spiritual men out there with honest intentions. I can name a few. I haven’t found one for my own though.

On another side of the issue, I have tried engaging men who are not involved with this way of life. That never goes well either. They’re either not strong enough to walk with me in the demands of my life or they refuse to believe it’s real by patting me on the head and pacifying me. I am not a woman to be patted on the head or pacified. While I am feminine and loving to those who I really do love, I’m also tough as nails just to survive coping with everybody else’s heartache – dead and alive – as well as my own. This is not a life for a sweet Susie Homemaker. It’s a long running joke with my best friend that I keep my feeling locked in a box with dust on it and she says I’d be bosom buddies with Pam on True Blood. I suppose a tough woman not willing to be totally dependent on a man to define herself can be a bit threatening to them.

So I go on doing my work because I have no other choice. I would like to know what real intimacy and trust feels like with another person but I seem to be a bit of a puzzle that men can’t put together right. Sometimes they force the wrong pieces together and I break. I can’t change what I am. I talk to dead people. I do readings for people to help my income along while I figure out what else I can do with these abilities. I write books with the sole purpose of helping people realize their own potential. My whole life is wrapped up in helping other people. It’s a full life but it’s an isolated life too. Who could really understand it? That question remains to be answered.

I write blogs like this, not because I particularly enjoy exposing my emotions and insecurities, but because there seems to be this romantic idea of what an intuitive, medium, psychic, etc., really is. People watch shows like Ghost Whisperer or see “TV mediums” like John Edward and think everything works within the context of that show and then the intuitive goes home to their loving family, having rescued spirits and their families from decades of turmoil. It’s never that simple. It’s not something you can just turn off, and not all bad spirits can be turned good with just a little reasoning and comfort. Our work follows us home much of the time. Our families have to put up with it too. My very skeptical uncle has been in my apartment and literally had his clothes pulled, heard voices, footsteps, etc., all by spirits. He always freaks out and leaves. And he’s my own blood family! My point is to help you understand this life and how difficult and rewarding it can be. I get tired and I get lonely but I do feel like I’m making a difference in my own way. Some people, I suppose, are just not meant to share their lives with someone else.

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Why I choose silence on 9/11

Posted by Jessica Jewett 2 Comments »

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I had an entirely different blog written and scheduled to post today. Now I just don’t know what should be said. What can you say? We are approaching the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks and I find myself flooded with horrible memories, thrown right back to September 11, 2001, as if it happened yesterday.

That morning, I remember waking up to the sun streaming into my bedroom and thinking it was a beautiful day. I don’t remember what I was planning to do but everything went out the window when my mother burst into my room and said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. She didn’t appear too shaken by it though, so I thought maybe it was a little private plane that clipped the corner of a building or something. We reached the living room just in time to see the second plane hit the other building on live television. I remember going numb and my brain shifted to a place of thinking it wasn’t real just to cope with what I had just seen.

I remember this hushed conversation with my mother a few minutes later.

“Why would another plane crash right there?” I asked.

Ashen, she replied, “I think we’ve been attacked.”

“By who? Who would do this to us?”

“I don’t know. I’m not going to work today.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, as I watched the columns of smoke rise into that perfect blue sky, I knew the buildings were going to collapse. I also knew that I had been having nightmares of plane crashes all summer and a strange tingling of guilt set in, as if I had known it was going to happen and I could have prevented it. The horror of watching people die on live television took the forefront though and we both lingered in the house amongst eerie silence, lost in our own thoughts. I don’t think there was anything that could have been said. Honestly, I don’t know how the news anchors kept talking.

Later that afternoon, we decided to go get something to eat and clear our minds. At the time, I lived in Calhoun, which is a small town in northwest Georgia not prone to much traffic. We noticed right away that every gas station in town had lines stretching around every block. People were buying gas as if we might never have gas again. My mother decided it was better to fill up our tank too rather than risk gas prices skyrocketing as soon as the government declared war. We sat in line for 45 minutes at a gas station on highway 53, which was the main strip through town. When we left, I noticed a man standing outside of another gas station guarding the building with a shotgun. Fear really set in for me then. It occurred to me that we were only about an hour and a half from Atlanta, a major city with major businesses and skyscrapers. What if Atlanta was next on the attack list?

In the days that followed, once the adrenalin died away, I can only describe it as sliding underwater where everything moves in slow motion and the fear of drowning paralyzes your body. I had what I describe as a hysterical breakdown on the fourth day after the attacks and my doctor at the time ordered me to turn off the television for at least a week or more. My mental health was in danger. It took a year for me to really recover from the things I saw on 9/11 and during that year, I felt like all of my creativity and life was drained from my body. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t do anything artistic. My life was survival on a day to day basis. Sometimes I felt stabs of guilt because I was having such a tough time recovering from the attacks, yet I wasn’t there. It wasn’t my right to struggle so much. A lot of other people struggled to recover from the attacks who weren’t there as well, I found out, and my doctor termed my problems as survivor’s guilt along with post-traumatic stress from seeing thousands die on live television. I used to have nightmares about watching people jump from windows just as I had seen that day.

Every anniversary, I think maybe it’ll be easier this time – maybe it won’t feel like such a blow. But then the anniversary comes around again and it feels like the rug got pulled out from under all of us. Each year, I spend the day in silence away from technology as best as I can. I prefer to spend that day in reflection on how far we have come and how far we have yet to go. I meditate and think about what I can do to make this world a better place by having my life when those people no longer have their lives. It’s precious to be able to breathe, to work in a garden, to hug your loved ones, to work every day, and to contribute love where others try to spread hate. I use 9/11 to remind myself that life is not guaranteed and should be used to help humanity evolve into something better.

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