Why Ghosts Roam the Earth and How They Find Their Way Home

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Why Ghosts Roam the Earth and How They Find Their Way Home
April 7, 2009
Melissa Van Rossum
Their Way Home

One autumn morning I hopped in my truck and headed off to work. I noticed an odd scent of liniment, but didn’t give it any thought as I rolled the windows down part way for some fresh air. Throughout the years I’ve grown accustomed to inexplicable smells, sounds and other sensations, they’re just a regular part of my day. Unlike a lot of folks, I loved my commute. It was a wonderful 30 minutes of quiet where I had my time and thoughts to myself.

As I approached the highway I rolled up the windows, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t entirely alone. I spun my head around and saw an elderly couple occupying my back seat.

At the time I drove a Jeep Grand Cherokee and I didn’t have kids so I had a lot of empty space in the back of my truck. Amazingly, they rode with me all the way to work.

Occasionally I looked back at them, and then I finally asked, “Is there something y’all need? Can I help you with anything?” They didn’t answer. They just looked back at me with the sad, vacant expression I’ve seen on ancient faces in nursing homes.

They rode around with me for several weeks. I had no idea how to get rid of them. They were obviously miserable and lonely and in spite of the fact that I wanted to help them, I didn’t know what they needed or how I could help.

Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I began seeing ghosts when I was four years old. I didn’t know they were ghosts because I was completely unfamiliar with the idea of ‘ghosts’. To me, the people who floated in and out of my life were just as common as the the people in my life who had three-dimensional bodies. Truly, the most amazing things can seem ordinary when they’re All You’ve Ever Known.

When I was younger, these ghosts were my favorite playmates. When I was older, these spirits pestered me and concerned me. I couldn’t figure out why I was so haunted. It didn’t matter where I lived or what I was doing, ghosts found me.

They found me in my car, my dining room, my closet and even my shower. And when I went out, ghosts were there, too, in lounges and restaurants, churches and hotels; ghosts are everywhere.

These experiences really flew in the face of my childhood rearing. I was raised in a religious family who believed that you lived, you died and then you went to heaven. That was it, end of your story. But here I was having a very different view of what could happen after you died. Ghosts, I would later find out, were simply people who for various reasons, were stuck on the earthplane.

This too, was entirely contrary to what I had been taught about death and the afterlife. I found the idea that anyone could get stuck here after their death a terrifying thought; but it was obviously true and it stared me in the face on a regular basis.

Soon after the time where I taxied the older couple around for several weeks, I met a shaman who helped me to understand that these ghosts needed help crossing over to the Other Side.

After someone dies, there is a certain amount of time when they can easily cross over to the Other Side. But sometimes people are afraid of what might be on the Other Side. They’ve heard tales of a vengeful God, stories of hell and fiery punishment, or perhaps worst of all, that there’s nothing beyond this life.

Other times someone’s death is too sudden and tragic and without realizing that they’ve died, they continue to live as though they still have a body. And in other instances, people become so mired in some kind of addiction, whether it’s work or drugs, and they continue to mimic these behaviors long after they’ve died.

Once they’ve missed their opportunity to cross over, they often need an assist to get to the Other Side, from someone that can see them and act as their guide to the next dimension. That’s what I think is the most miraculous part of the story, that they knew of my ability to help them, long before I did.