I am a strong believer in the mantra that everything happens for a reason. This also leads to a reassurance that there are no coincidences in life. I'm not convinced that our lives are planned out purposefully; however, I do believe that certain actions result in particular reactions and that what has happened did for a larger, more mystical reason that we are not meant to know or understand. This can be frustrating when you don't fully understand the 'why' at the time but I have never been let down thus far in learning that very 'why' later. Certain events have occurred in my life that directly related to exactly where I am today. The road may have been bumpy, but without one particular choice or event, another would not have happened and so on.
You may have read one of my very first posts on this blog about my first visit to the Stanley Hotel. In that post, I tell of some personal paranormal experiences and the story behind a (at the time) recent suicide that occurred, which I believe was connected to those experiences. Last fall I received an email from a gentleman who stated that it was his friend that I referenced who had sadly took his life in the hotel and he was looking for some help in contacting someone who could provide some answers. From the few facts I had, he felt confident I had experienced contact with his friend.
I had been in the thick of some personal life transitions and kept putting off writing back to him, to the point I almost just wrote it off and figured I would never actually return the message. But I kept it in my inbox and my mind, knowing that the right thing to do was to write back. One early weekend morning, I woke up before the rest of my family and decided to write back, completely out of the blue. It felt that it was the right time and I could finally feel better about almost blowing him off. I explained the circumstance and that I was really sorry and gave him the information that I had. I also said that I could pass on his information to some people that I know how might be able to help.
He wrote back that same day, very understanding of my delay, and to floor me with the news that I had actually responded exactly 5 years after his friends death. EXACTLY. FIVE. YEARS. LATER. What drove me to respond that morning? No idea.
I had been able to get him in touch with Callea, who worked at the Stanley at the time of my story and is now a friend of mine, and she was able to help him with some questions and intrigue. If I hadn't gone to that particular event, I'm not sure I would have had those same experiences and known about this story. Even if I did, I probably would not have met Callea since she is no longer there.
This has all been months in the making, again putting off writing this blog post. Maybe for a reason not yet unveiled.
