Spirit Test, A Breadcrumb Path for the Transcendentally Challenged

Spirit Test

Dave Mackey

A Breadcrumb Path for the Transcendentally Challenge

Cover art and illustrations by Donna Marchand, http://dmdstudio1.com

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Spirit Test

by Dave Mackey

Copyright 2011 by Dave Mackey

Smashwords Edition

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

FOR INFORMATION CONTACT:

Dave Mackey

dave@spirittest.com

Please visit our web site at

www.spirittest.com.

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A few years ago I was hired to videotape a wedding for a friend and business associate. At the time, I was the owner of a small video production company that specialized in producing local television commercials, corporate videos, and the occasional wedding. As I annoyed family and guests by asking them to put down their free food and share a personal congratulatory message to the camera, a stocky, rather jovial fellow stepped forward and spoke the following poem from memory. He prefaced the piece by saying that he had recently been hospitalized for depression, and that it was because of this poem, and only this poem, that he was still alive today. Curious, I finished the party-weenie I had pilfered and pressed record.

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The day is cold, and dark, and dreary

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The Vine still clings to the moldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the moldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! And cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

The Rainy Day ~H. W. Longfellow

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This book is enthusiastically and lovingly dedicated

to my folks, John and Gwen.

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CONTENTS

Prologue

1. The Right Man for the Job

2. Let the Tests Begin

3. Maybe

4. Ping-pong, Anyone?

5. The Lady at My Door

6. Eliza

7. When the Student is Ready

8. Getting Sensitive

9. Love and Energy

10. A Test of Endurance

11. The Moan

12. Fanning The Flames

13. Spirituality

14. Spirit Tests - Continued

15. Mixed Signals

16. A Healthy Decision

17. Signs, Signs Everywhere are Signs

18. Bring it On!

19. A Chance of a Ghost

20. The Law of Attraction

21. Synchronicity

22. The Universe Brings Me a Cup of Coffee

23. A Serving of Uncomfortable

24. More Than a Feeling

25. My Super Bowl

26. Transformation

27. Finding Easter Eggs

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Prologue

I had to know.

It was two weeks after the second operation on my back. The skin seemed shrunken and stung at the site where the scalpel had made its three-inch incision. I walked, as my kids said, like Herman Munster with hemorrhoids, stiff-legged and vertical, afraid to bend at the waist lest my incision rip open and my spine come popping out like a jack-in-the-box.

The date was sometime around March 2004. This was the day that I was to make contact. No more excuses. No last-minute need to stack wood, sort my stained Tupperware, or pluck the hairs separating one of my eyebrows from its twin. Apart from my bad back, I’m also a closet sufferer of unibrowitis.

They’ve been trying to get my attention for some time now, but I hadn’t been listening. Apparently I was asleep at the wheel like the majority of the population. Very few of us, the spiritual books say, spend much time in the now; we are time-travelers who place far too little focus on the present moments of our lives. We ping-pong between what we did yesterday and what we’d like to do after lunch. Instead of being Lost in Space (one of my favorite childhood TV shows), most of us are lost in thought. Our minds are non-linear, and we drift through our lives in a kind of random, quixotic sequence. Rarely, unless we’re on fire or beset upon by killer bees, are we ever truly aware of our immediate present. When you’re engulfed in flames it’s kind of hard to think of anything other than your immediate predicament.

It was time to begin.

I could almost hear them tapping their feet with impatience. I had read the books and listened to my CDs. I was equipped with all that I needed, which was nothing. The less baggage I brought, the better.

I imagined myself pulling out the test form and passing it out to my students—whoever, whatever they might be. They were ready for the test. But was I? Going in, I had only one question:

How do I grade a test taken by the dead?

Spirit Test, v. 1. the decision to suspend one’s judgment with regards to the unknown or subjects thought to be unknowable.

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1. The Right Man for the Job

I’m usually the last person to take on a challenge. Believe me, I’m not the guy you want mowing your lawn or taking on a project that requires a chainsaw. Yet, when it comes to exploring some of life’s deeper and often darker mysteries, I like to think that I have the perfect resume for the job, as you will see. So at age 40, I pried myself from the couch, wiped the potato chip crumbs from my lap, and set forth to see if there was more to this life experience—and more to me—than I was aware of. I wasn’t about to draw any conclusions based on faith alone. In my head, I needed to experience or not to experience to know for sure what was out there, to know what was real. Before I could allow my mind to latch on to certain truths about life, love, death, fate, ghosts and God, I needed to see some proof. In the immortal words of Tom Cruise’s ethically-challenged character, Jerry Maguire, I needed someone, or something, to Show me the money!

Spirit Test is the report of my findings.

An important part of this book is rooted in the paranormal events of my youth. As a child, I was absolutely certain that I lived in a haunted house. You couldn’t have convinced me otherwise. Most children, at one time or another, see strange shapes in their bedroom closet or hear midnight creaks in their homes. Parents around the world, who were once frightened tots themselves, repeat the customary late-night excuses that are a part of all parental DNA. We’ve all heard them: It’s just the house settling, honey; or, It’s only the wind, now go back to bed. Very rarely did we hear: Oh, it’s just the restless dead, you silly-billy. They can’t hurt you—as far as you know.

Now that I am older and a smidge wiser, the more I understand that these are exactly the kind of generic excuses we needed to hear. When I experienced what I thought was a paranormal event, I didn’t want the truth—whatever that might have been. I wanted a nice, convincing fib to put my frantic mind at ease. If my dad’s explanation in the eerie moonlight had been, My boy, we can’t explain it, but apparently your room is haunted, and your closet appears to be a portal that dead people use to travel from their world to ours, I am fairly certain that I would still be sleeping with my Cap’n Crunch nightlight—and maybe a shotgun.

Another aspect of this book explores the concept of spirituality. I try, in my own boggled way, to come to grips with what spirituality is, what components make up a spiritual life, and how could I use this information to land me better seats at a Red Sox game. I was also curious to know if there was a correlation between being spiritual and the ghostly events of my youth. You can’t have spirituality without spirit, can you?

I was raised with no particular religious affiliation, and thus felt no spiritual connection to any of the myriad faiths out there. In fact, I felt deliberately detached from all spiritual organizations. I was never baptized, and I’ve only been to church for weddings and funerals. Yet over the course of my life, I had the feeling that something invisible, something not of this world, was reaching out to me with tendrils of intention. It’s hard to put into words, but it’s as if something wanted me to know that it was there, but not what it was. Something was tapping me on the shoulder then hiding just before I could get a good look at it. By the conclusion of my spirit tests, I hope to pin an identity on this mysterious, ineffable presence in my life. If it turns out to be Bob Saget, I’m going to be seriously disappointed.

You are also fair-warned, friends, that I am genetically incapable of being serious for extended periods of time. You might read about behavioral and spiritual concepts with universal ramifications, while I simultaneously make an absurd reference to an exploding dinner entrée or SpongeBob SquarePants. I’ve always been fascinated with the invisible world that goes bump in the night, and I couldn’t write a eulogy for my best friend without injecting a fart joke. This book poured out of me for reasons I do not entirely comprehend, and I’d hate to blow this opportunity with a couple of poorly executed jokes. What I’ve learned from this ever-changing, limitless, and sometimes silly universe has quite literally changed my life and the lives of those close to my heart. It can change yours too, if you’re open to it.

So, why should you care about what Dave Mackey has to say? Fair question.

There have been many knowledgeable doctors, behaviorists, psychologists, and a litany of other ists that have helped guide me down this present path. The bookshelves are packed with wonderful advice from highly educated men and women who are probably 8⅔ times smarter than I am. However, the way I look at it—the way I’d like you to look at it—is that I am one of you. I’m as average as they come. I’ve never published anything. I’ve never invented anything. I can’t water ski. I’ve never even had the financial backing to build a pool in my backyard.

At the time of this writing, I am 41 years old, divorced, the father of two girls, ages eleven and fifteen, and I bust my ass trying to make ends meet. I live in a small ranch house, drive a Toyota Corolla, and I am perhaps the worst golfer ever to grace the courses of New England. The thoughts that keep me up at night are: Will I ever have enough money to retire? How can I afford to send my girls to college? How will I cope when my 82-year-old mother passes away?

Sound familiar? You see, I have the same problems as everyone else.

I’m one of you.

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2. Let the Tests Begin

As I pecked my way through the start of this book, I realized that I—and most of us, I presume—tend to dismiss information that challenges the conventional workings of our minds. The mind is so busy maintaining balance in our everyday life (work, raising kids, finding love, looking for Where’s Waldo, etc.) that it is perfectly happy accepting the easiest route to an acceptable answer. Our brains aren’t fond of mysteries or loose ends. And really, who could blame them? We’ve got things to do. I obviously had more disposable time on my