Now that I'm newly relocate in Georgia, and having been brought up in a Civil War hospital home in Fairfax, Virginia that was used by both sides during the war, I am strangely attuned as a psychic to battlefields and the Civil War.
My boyfriend, Keith, took me to the New Hope Church Battlefield in Dallas, Georgia. We cruised into the parking lot. I got out and walked around a bit and then my eyes kept going back to the woods, to a certain spot. The battle here was an amazing strategy of ditches to hunker down and await Sherman's men.
I stopped and stared into the woods and opened myself up for information and immediately got a visual and a word.
The visual was an adolescent blond boy, too young for battle (perhaps 12-13), coming up a hill with two men in their 30s beside him that treated him like a son. I couldn't figure out why the boy was in the war or why he was bent over, carrying something. His name was "Clem." I puzzled at that. It was a strange nickname and maybe I was wrong and it was more like Clements or something, but the men called him Clem.
I have never been in the deep south before or known its history during the war, other than Atlanta was "burned down." Usually my best readings are not knowing anything about the subject.
We got home and I started poking around to find this Clem and came across Johnny Clem, a young boy who tried to join the Union troops but was too young, so brought in as a drummer boy at around 10 years old. He even at one point got shot in the drum he carried.
I looked up his age and I was point on with his age, his blond hair, his name, what he carried attached to a strap in front of him. Then, I found out he was in the New Hope/Dallas area during the war and through this region and involved in the Kennessaw Mountain area battles.
It's been years since I have opened up my skills like this and it was satisfying to learn that I had picked up on a piece of history. I do plan to go to more locations and gather more information from reads.
I will be attending a lot of historic areas, as well as Bigfoot regions in Georgia as the weather cools a bit more. There is something familiar about this place, having grown up in a Civil War hospital in Northern Virginia. The energies here are like home. It may seem strange to walk land full of bloodshed and trauma, from the treatment of the Cherokee to the wars and slavery, but I have a great respect for the mortal experience and what we must go through, feel, and overcome to be gifted with eternal life.
As a child growing up at "Aspen Grove" in Fairfax, Virginia, the blood stained floors, and artifact-filled soils, the ghostly apparitions, disembodied voices, were comforting. It felt as if I were in the hallowed halls of ancestors. I pondered if I would leave a print there too. When I spent the night at friends' homes in the modern tract housing, it felt clinical and oddly unsettling.
Ancestry through my father's lineage, growing up in this historic setting, and digging up artifacts came together to make me psychically attuned. Moving to Arizona at 15 and dealing with superficial peers, I tucked away the skills. I learned to not read things, to ignore the pull. I eventually married a man who had no belief in anything at all. He was embarrassed by my skills. So, I tucked them in further.
Divorcing 15 years ago, I hit the ground running to get my career growing and publish books, research, travel, and blog, and I didn't have time to reopen the skills.
Now, I am in a place in my life where the familiarity of Georgia and its energies, has my skills unfurling and probing, receiving, archiving. I forgot how easy it is to use the skills and, even after years of not actively working them, it's like riding a bike - I never forget how.
Here's some of my scoring at IONS where I tested my psychic skills online. My name is Autumnforest -
My advice?