290. What Alcatraz Taught Me
Every time I think about Alcatraz, it just opens up Pandora’s box.
When I moved to California, one of the first things I did was visit Alcatraz. I went with my friend who drove with me (all the way to California). It was a fun, touristy thing to do. Besides, my mom has been and still is weirdly obsessed with Alcatraz. Not sure why. Maybe it’s a crime thing. But I do feel like there are reasons for our interests, such as connections to similar energies and past lives. But anyway, here’s what happened.
The trip was innocent enough. Granted, the island of Alcatraz didn’t feel so great. It’s pretty run down, and there’s not much there, besides the ghost of a prison, as well as buildings which housed and served workers. It is of course, eery.
Over time, I had discovered that old buildings, particularly with no running water, were generally pretty haunted. Particularly if they were made of dense materials, like brick. It’s always the brick for some reason…
Not to my surprise, as I traveled on a tour through Alcatraz, I was totally overwhelmed. It was somewhat strange, since it was a self-guided tour. These are usually pretty “safe” because I can wander on my own and leave any areas which are uncomfortable. You tend to be a sitting duck when you’re in a group.
I didn’t get too many visual impressions, but that’s not too surprising, considering my intuition hadn’t opened up yet. That’s right… I wasn’t even remotely “psychic”. This is why what was happening to me was so strange.
As I walked through the prison, I felt incredibly ill. But it was weird, spontaneous, and not accompanied by any other physical symptoms. It was just sporadic nausea. It didn’t make any sense. In fact, it only happened when I went to certain areas. The first time I realized I was different from other people was at Alcatraz. The way my body felt within this prison was so different from others. I looked like I was about to keel over, and I watched other people gracefully walking through the prison admiring it. It felt like I was living in a different world than others. Maybe even on a different planet. I was so incredibly affected by the environment around me.
The nausea was primarily when I would walk by certain jail cells, as well as the wing for the most violent offenders. Interestingly enough, the food court area actually had good energy. Not surprising, as I’m sure there were some good times had there, and there were also lots of windows. Area with lots of air flow tend to release energy quite quickly.
I had an “ah-ha” moment when I was in the wing of violent offenders. It was essentially reserved for those who did the worst crimes, as well as the most crimes. These people were there for life. In some ways, I felt that many of the people who were locked in there… almost wanted to be there. In a sense, they knew they couldn’t live successfully in the outside world. To a degree, they needed and wanted to be in a cage, even if it was just on a subconscious level. And I think that’s why they did so many crimes over and over and over again. They didn’t know how to handle themselves. And it required the state to handle it for them. In a way, I didn’t feel these were bad people. Kind of… not at all. They had just done damaging or detrimental things. But they just felt alone. They felt unloved, and they didn’t know how to accept themselves. It was then that I realized that we do bad things because sometimes we don’t understand what good things are. And we can’t do what we don’t know. If you’ve never felt love, the likelihood of you reaching a point in your life when/where you accept love is… not impossible, but based on how our society is structured, unlikely. We don’t support a collective of people who are healing. We sustain a collective of people who are sustaining. Who are remaining the same. There’s not very much growth.
I had a lot of empathy for these people, because in some ways, they incarnated without a fighting chance. And I don’t now if they knew that to the fullest extent. I know that we incarnate knowing reasonably who we are and who we want to be, but we certainly don’t know everything. I’ve talked before about not villainizing people, because they are the tip of the iceberg of our collective, shared energy. And when we consider ourselves better than others, we consider ourselves no longer a part of the human race.
It made me wonder what their lives would be like if they were born into different circumstances. Maybe if they had the skills or the tools. But I’ll never know. They may never know, and their energies will exist in some way shape or form in this prison until… who knows when. But that’s what Alcatraz taught me. Empathy.
