• NEW! LOWEST RATES EVER -- SUPPORT THE SHOW AND ENJOY THE VERY BEST PREMIUM PARACAST EXPERIENCE! Welcome to The Paracast+, eight years young! For a low subscription fee, you can download the ad-free version of The Paracast and the exclusive, member-only, After The Paracast bonus podcast, featuring color commentary, exclusive interviews, the continuation of interviews that began on the main episode of The Paracast. We also offer lifetime memberships! Flash! Take advantage of our lowest rates ever! Act now! It's easier than ever to susbcribe! You can sign up right here!

    Subscribe to The Paracast Newsletter!

One of my experiences


Paradox

Paranormal Novice
I’ve thought long and hard about posting my ‘experiences’ here for several reasons. I’ve had a lot of experience with online discussions of paranormal experiences and know that there are people out there who troll message boards/chat rooms looking for information for stories/articles they are writing. I also know that most people find it hard to believe everything that has happened to me. Most find it difficult to believe that I could remember, clearly and correctly, something that happened to me when I was 18 months old, but I do. And for those of you familiar with Piage, no, these aren’t memories of things I’ve heard discussed and then incorporated those discussions as part of my own memory. The experience I’m about to relate is not something that anyone from my family has ever discussed. That said, here is but one of the many ‘experiences’ that I’ve had:

First of all, when it comes to ‘visitations’, I have few conscious recollections. This, I think, is one of them. When I was about 18 months old, my family lived in San Antonio, TX. My six-year-old sister and I were playing in the back yard of the house we rented. I noticed what I can only describe as a ‘little man’ sitting in the branches of the mulberry tree. I wondered how he’d gotten there, because even my sister couldn’t reach the branches to climb it. I remember asking my sister who that was in our tree. She looked at the tree, looked at me and told me there was no one in the tree. I looked back at the little man, puzzled. He simply smiled at me as if to say I was the only one who could see him.

Just then, we heard the ice cream truck coming down the street. My sister ran into the house to get money. I waited in the backyard, when she came back out, we went to the ice cream truck to get a treat. She asked me if I wanted anything. I told her no. We were the last ones standing in line. I felt ‘eyes’ on me and turned around. There, about ten yards away stood the little man who had been in the tree.

A bit of background information is necessary here. I use to host in a chat room called AES on AOL. The members in that room often discussed if we were ‘taken’ because we are psychic, or if we are psychic because we are ‘taken’. In my case, the psychic abilities seem to have been passed to me from my mother. She and I can communicate telepathically. We’ve been doing that all my life. When I saw the little man standing there in the street, I mentally asked "Who are you?" I knew there were no other people in my neighborhood my size and this man was my size, so I knew he wasn’t a neighbor.

Upon ‘hearing’ my question, a mild shock came across his face and he mentally answered something to the effect of "My, you are unique". I then ‘heard’ a conversation between the man and someone/thing else I could not see. This conversation was not in English, however, I understood the gist of what was being discussed. To the best of my knowledge, the man was being told something to the effect that he was crossing the line in what he was doing. When the man started to answer whom/whatever back, I mentally questioned what was going on. The fact that I not only ‘heard’ their conversation but also seemed to understand it shocked the man and whom/whatever he was conversing with more than the fact that I could communicate telepathically.

My attention was caught by my sister saying, "Ow!". Now, at that age, big sister trumped little man any day of the week and twice on Sundays :D. I turned around to see what had happened. She had bit into her fudgesicle and lost her front tooth. I asked what she was eating, making a mental note to never, ever under any circumstance, eat a banana fudgesicle, as I had just gotten teeth in, and DID NOT want to do anything to loose them. All excited, which at that age I didn’t understand, my sister said, "Let’s go in the house and show mom!" (or something to that effect). As for me, I was concerned at all the blood coming from her mouth. I knew, even at that age, this was not good! Blood=boo-boo, boo-boo=pain. Boo-boo needs to be looked at by a parent—NOT GOOD! As we were leaving the street to go into the house, I looked back at where the little man had been. The street was empty.

I do not recall ever seeing the little man or anything else like him again. Although as I previously stated, I have few conscious recollections of ‘visitations’. I'm not exactly sure into which category, aside from weird occurances, this experience should go. However, I have heard of "little men" being associated with alien visitors.
 
The members in that room often discussed if we were ‘taken’ because we are psychic, or if we are psychic because we are ‘taken’. In my case, the psychic abilities seem to have been passed to me from my mother. She and I can communicate telepathically. We’ve been doing that all my life. When I saw the little man standing there in the street, I mentally asked "Who are you?" I knew there were no other people in my neighborhood my size and this man was my size, so I knew he wasn’t a neighbor.

That's a testable assertion, you and your mother communicating telepathically.

The little man could have been your conscience! You had a chance to drown it, stab it, choke it to death -- and you passed that up! You could have lived your life in peace, free from the bite of a conscience. You sad, sad man.

I'm impressed. You could not only communicate telepathically at 18 months old; you could ask questions like "who are you," an ability far beyond the grasp of just about every other 18 month old baby on the planet. Could you type as an 18 month old, too? Perhaps you could fly an airplane at 18 months old?
 
My memory kicked in between my third and fourth birthdays, which I imagine is pretty common. 18 Months seems young, but I don't see any reason why it couldn't be so.
 
Yes, it's impressive. Remembering and talking and communicating telepathically at 18 months.

I believe a statue or monument should be erected somewhere in downtown Washington, DC, commemorating this stupendous achievement of humanity.

Perhaps you should become the first United Earth Emperor.
 
OK, Chuckleberryfin--If you crap on everyone who has a story to tell, then you are going to make it unlikely people will share. The point is not whether Paradox is 100% correct in his memories: He obviously feels they are valid, and this is not the place to take him to task. If people are trying to sell you books, guest on the show, get you to join a cult, take your money, then feel fry to crap on them all day. If they are just sharing experiences that are valid to them, leave off.
 
I agree here. Let's cut these people some slack. Unless you have some real evidence, either from the internal illogic of the story, or from examining the evidence, if any, that a story is fake, lay off folks.

Asking hard, skeptical questions is one thing, and that's fine.
 
ROFL Chuckleberryfin! I apologize for putting into adult words what happened to me as a small child. I suppose I should have stated as best as I could at that age. I was use to forming 'question thoughts', is the best way I can put it, for my mother and that's what I did with this 'little man'. Oh, and by the way, I'm female ;)
 
Being 18 months old does not put you into the position of not being able to think. Externalised language is something extra to your natural brain language. As for telepathy, if it's real it's real; if it's not it's not.
That said, it is not unusual for children to see and/or talk to things which are not there.
 
I remember things that my parents confirmed occurred when I was about 1.5 yrs old. They were as surprised as I was about being able to recall those events. At the same time I am sometimes astonished to read my own journal written only a few years ago, about events that have left no imprint at all in my memory.
 
Back
Top