In your personal journey of exploring the paranormal, when you’ve conclusively proven to yourself that unexplained phenomena exists — it’s because you’ve heard, felt, and seen too much to dismiss the experiences. And that’s all that ultimately matters, because when it’s a personal journey — it’s personal. In spite of the naysayers, or thrill seekers, or the debunker bunch (you know the egoistic pseudo para scientist traipsing around the Internet always disputing methods, toys, and tools) — regardless of what people try to bring to the paranormal table — the paranormal does not and will not fully comply or be defined with a cute bow on top. In my experience, to truly be as close to objective as possible toward the paranormal experience, the key to communication with an unseen presence correlates directly to the openness of our intentions. You gotta want it — you gotta shut up — you gotta learn to listen — forget what you think you know — drop your assumptions — burn your labels — and be humble. Just accept the ebb and flow of what you deem as unexplainable, paranormal — which, when you’re in the right mindset, starts to feel quite normal. This isn’t a call to be silly either — it’s just the opposite — branding everything as paranormal feels as dumb as pontificating parameters for the paranormal — to me. But this is a plea to tune your critical thinking to the frequency of acceptance. Just because you may not have the knowledge of why things are, doesn’t change that they happen. Or if you think you can define limitations of what the paranormal can or cannot interact with (spirit box work for example) — you’ll always resent that others have a far more intriguing connection to the supernatural and their exchanges are more robust than yours.
Once you relax your expectations and let go of all the ghost junk cluttered in your brain, you might be surprised at what you receive, record, document. In spite of our meat-suits we’re currently donning, the energy behind consciousness is all the same, right? It’s that same sentience between flesh and spirit, correct? Possibly? Regardless of layers of time and reality, who’s to say how far we can reach with our thoughts — grasping into the present, future, and the past? That’s why I believe any of our captures are already contaminated. But there’s beauty in that. There’s something beautiful in immersing yourself in history. In unfolding the past we listen to what lessons it may give in the present. There’s a reaffirmation in knowing where we came from and the struggles that were endured. It makes us belong. It adds to our credibility. And the locations that still stand are testaments to our fortitude as a species. They are tactile labs for us to let our wonder explode, and the soil on which they sit does not rest — that’s the library that holds mysteries that we should all check out — mysteries we imprint ourselves onto enriching the layers of moments for future investigations. That’s the majesty of Ashmore Estates. It erupts out of an ocean of corn as a petrified monument to a country that was in its infancy fumbling to make all the pieces in the puzzle of society fit. A monastery for researchers who happily gaze into the unknowable abyss and stare. And beseech. And listen — regardless of a response.
— Evel Ogilville