As time goes on, I hate staying in places that aren't my own home more and more. Though I always travel with my spiritual tools for cleansing, banishing, protection, and the like—there's something incredibly different about sleeping in a place that isn't your well-established and warded house. A recent "free" stay at a resort in Massachusetts was yet another prime example of the icky energy that permeates buildings and locations with an eerie past.
From handsy energy in the shower to haunting vibes from the mirrors, to say I was disturbed in our hotel room was as kind as I could be. The truth was, I wanted to peel my skin off staying here. I hated the feeling of being watched and I even more so was enraged by being touched without my consent.
Unnerved being here, I covered the mirrors, practiced my standard cleansing and protection rituals for the space, and welcomed my spirit guides of benevolence to be present with us while we stayed there—and yet, I still was ready to pack our bags and leave.
The disgusting spiritual energy that exuded from the walls was that of an individual who I knew had caused harm to young children. It was an alarming and deeply disturbing feeling and my heart ached for those who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with this monster.
Though, I had checked for notable hauntings or strange happenings at the resort before booking, what I hadn't yet discovered was that before being acquired by the hotel chain that now owned the resort, the site used to be a home for troubled youth, boys specifically.
There it was. Plain as day on an old-ass website, seemingly created circa the 1990s. An eerie photo of an old man filled my phone screen. He was highlighted as having run the facility for "wayward boys" turning them into "farmers" and men. He took children with nowhere else to turn, and under the false guise of a helping hand, caused significantly more harm and trauma.
If that wasn't bad enough on its own, the place was then transformed by this man into a resort for "swinging singles" that Playboy, yes, THE Playboy, described as a "frenetic" resort.
If you're unfamiliar with the word frenetic, the two key definitions I found online for the term are fast and energetic in an uncontrolled or wild way and excessively agitated; distraught with fear or other violent emotion. Both of these are rather distressing definitions, in my opinion, when thinking of safe places to vacation as a young single, especially a woman.
Frustrated and disgusted, I expressed to my husband everything I could see, hear, and feel in this place. I went on to tell him about my findings online and how they corroborated what my intuition, clairvoyance, and claircognizance were telling me. Already late, we didn't have a lot of other options. The town we were in was small and in a rural area with little-to-no alternate sleeping accommodations, and so we decided to stay and try our best to get as much rest as we could—which was none. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Not one ounce of precious sleep was had by me or my husband.
The next morning came and we quickly got ready to head out for our planned adventures for the day. The unit we were in had two bedrooms and bathrooms, which was yet another strange factor in the whole ordeal. The larger bedroom had mirrors facing the bed, a shower/bath directly in the open part of the bedroom rather than in its own enclosed bathroom—and it had an incredibly creepy mirror in it. As we were preparing to shower and get dressed, my husband commented on the strange mirror and how he refused to use that shower because there was something so off about it—and I fully agreed.
After finally leaving the place, we enjoyed our day, though incredibly exhausted, and ended up booking our stay for that night elsewhere (where we got fabulous sleep).
Upon returning home, we had an additional and frightening experience with the energy that lingered from our stay and to avoid triggering any of my blog readers unnecessarily, though some might argue everything I write is triggering, I'll just say that it upset my husband to the point that though he was unable to see, hear, and feel what I was picking up on at the resort, it became very real to him in a different way, and now he too will forever think twice about where we choose to stay on vacations going forward.
Interested in connecting with your loved ones on the other side? Book an appointment NOW with Kate Jade. Kate is a psychic medium and death practitioner and is passionate about helping people connect with their ancestors, loved ones, and spirit guides through mediumship.
One of the fundamentals of paganism and esoteric wisdom is banishing. Here is a brief overview of what this means within esotericism and how you can practice banishing.
Banishing removes energies that are not welcome in your space from staying there. Banishing is a broad term that can have many different purposes and be carried out via a plethora of methods.
If at any point during your routine, you encounter unwelcome energies or spirits in your space that aren’t aligned with your intentions or highest good, banishing is necessary. These may be energies or spirits that are draining your energy, have mischievous or malicious intentions, or are around for nefarious reasons, and as a result interfere with your own health, healing, and well-being.
You may already be practicing banishing or cleansing when you feel the need to sweep after someone leaves your home, open the windows when you enter a room that feels stuffy, or take a few moments by yourself to regroup after being in a large crowd.
When our energy is interfered with in any way, it can inhibit our creativity, inspiration, and ability to think clearly, bring down our mood, and cause feelings of fatigue, sickness, and exhaustion. Banishing these unwanted energies allows us to keep everything in order and balance within ourselves and our space so that we are able to continue thriving physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
The methods for banishing are as vast as every other topic in esotericism. Common methods of banishing are:
The key with each of these methods is the individual’s intentions and mindset. Even mundane activities, such as sweeping or dusting, can be methods of banishing. For example, sweeping or dusting may be done with the intention of banishing dirt, dust, or debris from your home. Your intentions could also be banishing stagnant energy that is no longer serving you and your household.
Bear in mind that the permanence or efficacy of banishings is partially dependent on what you are banishing. Some banishings will be permanent and irreversible. Some banishings will aid mundane efforts at removing difficult things that are a struggle to get rid of. Some banishings will need to be refreshed and recharged regularly in order to continue warding off ongoing things. Some banishings will help to reduce the frequency or intensity of occurrences, especially if it is something that is pervasive and unavoidable. Some banishings are simply not going to work, because what you want is not possible. For example, banishing can remove toxic people from your life, but cannot make it like it never happened – you still have to do the work to process the trauma and heal.
Interested in connecting with your loved ones on the other side? Book an appointment NOW with Kate Jade. Kate is a psychic medium and death practitioner and is passionate about helping people connect with their ancestors, loved ones, and spirit guides through mediumship.
Join The Mystic's Journey in-depth pathworking program today! Through this 3.5-year program, you'll learn about the seven threads of magick that comprise the fabric of our universe, how to work with these threads to weave your own fate, and truly step into your authentic and unique spiritual path with confidence, clarity, and direction.
Every time a student enrolls in The Mystic's Journey program I've built, they're not only accessing everything I have created and learned, but they're also making it possible for me to continue teaching full time.
What YOU get access to:
Coursework to learn about mysticism
Rituals, journal prompts, meditations, and more
Free downloadable grimoire pages
Side quests to learn 42 types of magick
Engaging community forum
Earn crystals as you complete coursework
Beginner and advanced resources
App for convenient learning on-the-go
Enroll TODAY and join an incredible community of witches and spiritual practitioners that are motivated by wisdom, embody their magick, and trust their intuition.
Most people are intrigued by a good ghost story. Especially the ones that leave you wondering where the truth ends and the lies begin—and that's assuming there was ever any truth to them at all. But I'm here to tell you about a very real, true, and unexpected night I spent in a haunted hotel—well two actually.
As most spooky stories start, everything was happy, beautiful, and exciting in our world. My husband and I were on our way to the Masters Tournament in Augusta, Georgia, and to avoid dealing with overcrowding and overpriced hotels in the area, we had booked a stay at the cutest old-fashioned, bed-and-breakfast-style hotel in Abbeville, South Carolina. Located in a historic district, the hotel was adorable with string lights draped over an outdoor courtyard and a local, small-town style about it.
Upon arriving, I felt a shift in the energy. It was cute—on the outside—but looks can often be deceiving, can't they? We parked in the old lot on the backside of the hotel and made our way into the main lobby to check in for our stay. Known as the Belmont Inn, the quirky red-brink building was eccentric and certainly felt every bit as dated as a 1903 historic structure would.
Of course, we were exhausted from having traveled all day by plane and then car to arrive at our hotel and were ready to call it a night. The halls of the hotel were odd. Old carpet lined the floors. Despite its age, everything was well-kept and clean, though. We quickly turned in for the evening, locking the door, closing the curtains, and barely taking in our surroundings before falling fast asleep—GASP—the air felt like it was being sucked out of my lungs and out of our room. The panic I felt, startled awake by a tall man lying in between my husband and me in bed and then suddenly standing in front of the window looking outward. His stare was fixated on something beyond the glass, and I was baffled because the blinds had been drawn aside even though I knew for certain we had closed them before going to bed. I shrieked unable to form words.
Who was this man? What did he want? Why was he in our hotel room? How did he get in here? Why was he looking out the window? I had so. many. questions.
My husband jolted awake, him too horrified, but not because he could see someone in our room. "There-there-there was a man—" I stuttered. Confused, my husband fumbled to find a light to examine the room, which was small with nowhere to hide save the attached bathroom. No humans were anywhere to be found. Realizing who I'd seen was more than likely a departed spirit, I breathed a sigh of relief. We weren't about to be murdered in our sleep by a crazed killer—just casually haunted by a mysterious ghost that enjoyed spookily climbing into people's beds and staring out their windows.
My sleep the rest of the evening was restless. I felt disturbed, heavy, and sad more than anything. The next morning my husband was off to the tournament we'd traveled in for, leaving me alone at this strange little hotel to work on client projects from my laptop. I sat on the bed giving it my best effort to focus on my to-do list only to be abruptly interrupted by the television turning itself on to a grey static screen. Puzzled, I reached for the remote on the nightstand and clicked the power button to shut it back off.
Resuming the tasks at hand, I continued with emails, writing, and other pending projects, not making much progress as I was interrupted multiple times over by chilling shifts in the temperature, my laptop making an eerie crackling sound, and the faucet in the bathroom running by itself. I gave up on working and began rummaging through the room curious about the hotel we had booked our stay in.
The middle drawer of the dresser had an oversized binder with all kinds of helpful insights about the town: where to shop, where to eat, and most importantly—the history of the most haunted hotel in South Carolina. My jaw dropped. Had we really booked a stay in the most haunted hotel in the area unknowingly? I continued reading about dear old Abraham, one of the bellhops who helped build the original hotel, The Eureka, in 1903, and one of many ghosts whom people now claimed to see throughout the building.
After passing away, Abraham the bellhop continued to care for the hotel's guests as best he could from the other side. He was notorious for jingling the door handles to make sure guests were sleeping safely in their rooms as he would when he was alive. Described as a "friendly" ghost, I'd have to say that he was too friendly. The binder described Abraham as being known to appear in guests’ rooms, and sometimes even getting into bed with the guests. My mouth gaped at what I was reading of haunted legends of prior hotel guests experiencing exactly what I had the night before.
Disturbed, despite the claims of friendliness, I made my way out of the hotel for the day, finding other spots to hang out until my husband returned for our second night in the hotel. While I don't doubt that he believed what I claimed to have seen and heard—with no prior knowledge of the hotel's haunted status I might add—he still remained someone skeptical.
That evening, we enjoyed a dinner on the lower floor of the hotel before making our way up the stairs to our room on the third floor. Tonight, while there were no sudden visits from Abraham the bellhop, we still found ourselves awake all night listening to the clattering of dishes and the hustling and bustling noises of a busy kitchen that we assumed was fulfilling room service requests above our room. Groaning in exhaustion and frustration, my husband muttered his irritation for being booked in the one room directly under the noisiest kitchen one could imagine.
Trying to dismiss my own agitation, my mind wandered wondering how newer building construction navigated insulation, noise-proofing, and the like to mitigate such problems for their guests who nine times out of ten would be weary from their travels and simply looking for a peaceful night's sleep. This old, fragile, thin-walled building would soon be behind us if only I could manage to get some shut-eye.
The next morning, we got ready, packed up our things, and loaded into the car. Sitting in the sunken old parking lot and looking up at the strange little hotel, my husband tilted his head in confusion. "How many floors do you count?" He asked me. "One, two, three rows of windows...so three floors...and?" He stared at me, waiting for me to put the pieces together for what this meant.
Our room was on the third floor.
There was no floor above our room.
No kitchen or possible explanation for the stomping.
No explanation for the sounds of a busy kitchen, clattering dishes, or any of the other things we heard all night long.
We looked at each other and smiled.
The Belmont Inn really was haunted after all—and we had booked our stay there entirely by mistake.
Looking back, I wish I could offer help and hope to the departed spirits to help them transition onto whatever is next for them instead of continuing to worry about the hotel and its ghosts—but that'll have to be a project for another time.
Would you ever stay in a haunted hotel on purpose?
Interested in connecting with your loved ones on the other side? Book an appointment NOW with Kate Jade. Kate is a psychic medium and death practitioner and is passionate about helping people connect with their ancestors, loved ones, and spirit guides through mediumship.
