Sometimes a place speaks to you, calls to your heart. Not in words, but through feelings. It’s a sensation so strong it’s hard to resist. It could be the comfort of your own home, a place from a childhood memory, or a stop along the a path you just happened upon. But for some reason, know or unknown, the voices in your heart and soul sang out. “This is it” they said. There is something extraordinary about this place.
Have you ever had that feeling? I have.
The place for me is a beach, where the energy magically comes alive. Do you have a place like this?
It was Mother’s Day weekend last year when I ventured up the coast to that special beach – my sister’s beach. I hadn’t been there in over a decade. But something inside of me was telling me I needed to go. I was stepping out blind. My father had chosen the beach on which we’d said our final goodbyes so many years before, and he was no longer with me. I remembered the general area, so I knew where to start. I packed up my car and head out for a long twelve-hour drive (Not straight mind you. I did stop over night).
Armed with a name my mother remembered, I headed in that general direction. My body was alive with excitement, energy tingling across my shoulders and up through my chest as I made my way into my sister’s old stomping grounds. But as I passed one off ramp heading for the one beyond, a sick feeling dropped into my pit. Just below my stomach, I was weighted down. The good vibration was gone.
Turning to the person next to me I said, “I feel like that was my exit.” Unlike the area I live now, turnoffs and exits are not immediate. We drove a long distance to the next exit. It was the one we had been heading towards to begin with. The beach there was not a match. Not even close. Slowly we made my way back, driving along the coast on a two-lane (sometimes one), un-repaired road, looking for a place that resembled something from my memory. It was slow going with all the curves and twists. But when the moment came, it was undeniable. I knew the beach without reservation.
Interesting fact: when we left, the on-ramp we used was the one that gave me the tingle and heavy feelings going the other direction.
Has a place ever felt so important that it practically guided you to it?
I mentioned last month in my post titled Acts of Honor and Remembrance that this day was coming. Today marks the “Celebration of Life” anniversary. I won’t always mention it every year, but in this last year it came to my attention that my alma mater added an “eternity” torch. I’ve taken care of the paperwork and when the next set of bricks are made Kristi’s name will be added to the base. Surprise, Mom!
I recently felt a push to return to this mentioned beach. I know I will be making plans in the future to do so. Maybe next time with the family in tow. What do you think, is there something to the push and pull of the unseen energy?
~oOo~
Touching post. There are a few places in this world that call to me and when I hear their gentle whispers, I’ve learned not to ignore them. The eternity torch is such as sweet idea. Your family is blessed to have such a caring and loving daughter/sister.
Aw, thank you Tameri. I appreciate that. I think you’re right not to ignore those whispers. 🙂
I loved your post! We have a place like that on our ranch. It is a tree-lined path where a feeling of complete peace comes over you when you walk into it. It originally got my attention when I heard children playing and laughing. When I began to walk over to the area, the voices faded away but the feeling drew me in. As I walked in, I immediately had the urge to rush to a bathroom. I did not think anything about that until the same thing happened to everyone I brought to see it. I finally asked the spirits to stop doing that to me every time I walked in because I promised not to hurt them. It stopped after that for me, but everyone else still gets that problem. Shortly after this, I had surgery and ended up being under anesthesia for 7 hrs. As I was being wheeled to my hospital room from recovery, I noticed 2 young children riding along on the side of the gurney. A little boy with dark hair asked the little girl with blond locks, “Why are we here?” She answered, “We have to help her now. She is our voice.” I asked my husband who the two children were and he said, “What children?” I did not think too much about that until the next year when my husband had hired a bulldozer to clear brush all over the ranch. I had the clear impression that I did not want him to bother the area. In fact, I chased him out of it three times before he gave up and told my husband that he was sorry he could not get that area done because I kept stopping him. After a few months, I found two very old graves, marked only with piled up large rocks. Each one had a larger rock at the ‘head’ that had no writing. I knew I had found the graves of the two children I had seen and that I had indeed been their voice in keeping their graves undisturbed.The whole story is in my book, ‘Growing Up Weird: Confessions of a Closet Medium’, available on amazon as ebook or paperback.
I also have a place in Fredericksburg, Texas that calls to me. I have had recurring dreams about a certain house in that town and I am driven to eventually find it. We are always in a hurry when we go through the town but I want to make a special trip just to find it. I think I died there.or something.
Truly amazing story Karen! Things like that really make you wonder, don’t they? I have not felt that kind of connection with any area around here, but then maybe California is too new. Maybe I need to get out and explore more areas.
I’m so glad you saved those graves from being disturbed. Guess I need to get the book to find out if you ever determined who they were, huh? 😉
A little town in East Cork, called Midleton calls to me. I spent many days there as a child walking the old, abandoned train tracks that ran beside my father’s childhood railway house. All the family I visited there has passed away now, but I still head down every so often just to walk the old, familiar streets and visit the graveyard, which oddly always brings me a sense of peace. A few years ago they reopened the railway line and I can no longer walk those old paths from childhood, which saddens me, but I still feel strongly about the area to keep going back.
Lovely post Debra.
That’s really sad, Emma. Is the railway cutting you off somehow or did it actually shut down part of the childhood paths you used to roam? Progress can be disheartening sometimes, can’t it? I’m glad you still get to visit though.
They reopened the railway line so you can’t walk on it or explore the area around it any longer. Before you could walk for miles and go under the bridges and wander along the river and climb up rocks. Great memories!
Yes there are definitely places like that for me–and even certain things that can bring out these sort of feelings. May is my brother’s bday month–and so I have that extra awareness feeling I get, just like when the “celebration of life” time comes around each year.
This is a beautiful post Debra. Thanks for sharing. Thinking of you!
Ah, the bday month. I understand that one. My thoughts are with you Coleen. {{hugs}} As you know, they are always alive in our hearts and never leave us.
Wow, what a cool story! I’ve never experienced anything quite like that, but there are certain places that I have visited that have made me feel calm or unexpected joy. It happens randomly. Like one year my parents and I visited the redwoods way up in northern California. While we were walking on one of the trails I got this overwhelming sense of peace. It was kind of cool.
Thanks for sharing your story and the video.
Patricia Rickrode
w/a Jansen Schmidt
Ooh, that’s really cool. I would say there was something special about that place. I love the redwoods. The way they reach for the sky, they’re God’s temple. 🙂
Beautiful post, Debra, and the eternity torch is another beautiful way to keep the memory of your sister alive.
The Rocky Mountains in Alberta always call to me. As a kid, we passed through them every year on our way to the beach. On the return trip home, I always cried as we left them behind because I knew I wouldn’t see them again until next year. My husband and I try to get to the mountains a couple of times a year. It’s the spot where everything wrong is made right. 🙂
I’d say that is a pretty emotional response. There was something going on there. I’d wonder if I were you. It reminds me of my reaction every time I see anything on WWI. Not the same, but an emotional response. And I can’t explain it. In my case, it’s not a good one. I’m glad you try to get back there a couple times a year. Sounds like something inside of you wants to be there. 🙂
Such a lovely post, Debra! I’ve definitely been pulled by places, much in the way Patricia described her experience. Once I was in Mammoth, I was in love with it. Same with various places throughout Northern California. I love the way various smells, sights and atmospheres draw me back to childhood, too.
That sounds lovely, August. Smells and sights can really build upon the experience. I had a similar experience in Sequoia. California has some beautiful places. Isn’t it amazing how the simplest smell can throw you back to a childhood memory in the blink of an eye?
I grew up in Southern California and never felt “at home”. Nothing specific, it just never felt like my place. Then I visited the South and knew this is where I was meant to be. I left a few very wonderful friends and miss them dearly (you included!) but we have been blessed with a true support system here that we had never been able to build there. I think it’s why God didn’t lead me to my true purpose until recently – he knew I would need the very best friends to get me through some of the hard things I’m going to have to go through on my journey!
That’s fantastic! Isn’t it amazing how that works out? All things are revealed in their time. It wasn’t time until you had your cards all lined up. Now you are ready. Be strong, my friend. I am excited for you and here if you need me. 🙂
Sedona arizona was life changing for me and my daughter. I am amazed at the power of the place. it also taught me that the desert is a place of beauty and change. great post, Debra. thanks
Sedona is a beautiful place! Yes, the desert isn’t all harsh and ugly. It can be very beautiful and life changing. My family has enjoyed some great times in the desert. Thank you, Louise.
Wonderful post…and video. I love the ice sculptures! And yes, I think there is something. I love beaches, too, but the ones along the Great Lakes. Especially up near the bridge where Lakes Michigan and Huron meet. I could sit along the shoreline up there for hours, just enjoying the sound of the waves washing up on shore, the gulls…and feeling the breeze off the water. I can’t even describe how it makes me feel, but I love it.
I have never truly had the pleasure of the great lakes. Maybe some day. You make is sound so mesmerizing though. Mmmm. Thank you, Kristy.
It is the cold rocky shores of the North Atlantic that call to me. On these lonely beaches I can connect with an ancient peace. Great post, loved it.
That sounds absolutely wonderful Prudence! I have only had the pleasure once in my life. But I think this beach has a similar feel – lonely, and ancient. So peaceful and so powerful. I can imagine why you are drawn to those beaches. 🙂 Thank you, Prudence.
What a perfect symbol to remember a loved one, an eternity torch! Energy can neither be created or destroyed, it just changes form. And yes, I do believe love transcends death. I’ve never been able to be away from the beach for very long without getting depressed. Maybe places have a vibration, just like we do and we can be in phase or out of phase with locations.
Yes, energy is always a constant. I like the way you put that, in or out of phase. I tend to agree. We may be in or out of phase with different locations for different reasons. Thank you for stopping by Shannon. 🙂
What a beautiful story, Debra. The eternity torch is a great way of honoring your sister and your family.
I’ve had a place calling me once. I believe we must heed these calls.
Thank you, Fabio. Maybe sometime you’ll share your story with us?
I’ve never had a place calling to me like that, but I do have recurring dreams about places where I’ve lived and moved away from. This is such a moving post, and that’s awesome that you’ll be able to add a brick in your sister’s memory to that eternity torch.
Sounds to me like those places from your past have wiggled down deep in your heart. 🙂 The places of such fond memories make them much more homes than houses we simply lived in. Lovely, thanks for sharing Lynn. And thank you for your sweet comment.
What a moving story! Those feelings, when you get them are unmistakeable. How beautiful that you are awake and in-tune to not just those feelings, but following your intuition and inner guidance.
Thank you, Serena. I am trying. Trying to make sure I can tell the difference between that and my own wants, desires or fears.
That is always the tricky part, but it does get easier with practice.
I think I need lots of practice.
Just beautiful, Debra. In fact, your beach looks familiar to me. I have family up north, wondering if I’ve driven by. I’m so glad you found it again, and it brought you peace.
Thank you, Debra. You may have driven by it. There are several beautiful beaches like this along the north coast. I love the beaches up that way. I much different feel then down here in Southern California. That’s for sure.
Glad you followed your gut, Debra.
After moving back to So Cal after almost 30 years, it feels like home (even though I grew up in Omaha). I still have a very strong pull when I’m in Nebraska, and a lot of relatives there.
We lived in England for four years and whenever I watch English tv programming, I wish I was back there. That’s a very cocooning feeling I get from seeing anything from England (or Ireland).
Wow. I can only imagine. All the memories you must have at those other locations.
I’m so jealous that you got to live in England for four years. 😀
This was a wonderful post, Debra. Sometimes we seem to leave a little piece of ourselves behind in a place. Other times, a place calls to us for other reasons.
I always feel a strong connection to nature. I love to be alone in places that make others uncomfortable because of the solitude. The mountains. An empty seashore. The southern edge of the island of Hawaii is amazing to me… looking across miles of nothing but blackened terrain, knowing you are standing twenty feet above the ground on a thick bed of cooled lava. I love the feeling of emptiness, and knowing I’m only a tiny speck in a place that is bigger than I can comprehend.
I’m glad you found your special place. I know it meant a lot to you. My thoughts are with you.
Beautiful post Debra. I think some places just resonate so strongly with us we feel them. I have a happy place in Old Saybrook, CT. Lots of memories and moments. I know the beach there. Know the sand and the rocks. I just went there today and it gave me such renewed energy. I don’t know how it works, but it works.
Thank you, Kourney. What you describe sounds beautiful – in more ways than one. Thank you for sharing.
There are some places I’ve soloed backpacking where I’ve felt that vibe. A place that quieted me and when standing still I felt a little lighter and that it wouldn’t take much to step up off the ground and levitate and every place I’ve felt that was in the wilderness. The Chisos Mountains for one. The Chisos are very spiritual. Once near the entrance of Pine Canyon on the eastern side of the Basin, it was near dusk and I was looking out over the desert, at peace inside, with my back to the canyon and it was dead still in the cool of a late November. I felt something and turned to glimpse a figure in the ancient dress of the Apache standing and looking at me, but I could not see his eyes. Then he turned and looked back up the canyon toward the pouroff and disappeared and in his place a soft breeze stirred. I stood there a while wondering and not knowing and suddenly sad.
There have been others and some not so benign.