Otherworldly: The Black Orb

The Unknown Twinkled into Reality

By Ghia Vitale
QuailBellMagazine.com

Although much of supernatural and paranormal phenomena remains inexplicable to science, it is still perfectly normal and natural. Western civilization is awkward in its refusal to acknowledge the possibility of unseen worlds, parallel dimensions, and accept sapient life on Earth that isn’t relegated to solely humankind or even the general material realm. Encounters with interdimensional beings such as ghosts, fairies, devas, demons, and angels have been documented throughout history and around the world. One of the most widely known and speculated manifestations of the unknown are orbs. The interdimensional entities that embody the orbs are rendered partially viewable to the naked eye when they take on this form.

Orbs seem to be intertwined with all kinds of paranormal phenomenon. Paranormal investigators look for the appearance of orbs in pictures of haunted places and they even tend to manifest in pictures of haunted locations that weren’t taken for investigative purposes. Instead, they surface during innocuous snapshots with no preluding intentions of a supernatural inclination. They’re often depicted as looming around our realm for the purpose of performing the bidding of aliens and fairies, beings that are especially reputed to reveal themselves to mortals as orbs. Since animated spheres of glowing light aren’t commonplace outside of cemeteries, it is definitely extraordinary to behold them.

To preface the telling of my experience, I should make it known that I’ve been practicing witchcraft for almost thirteen years. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to sense and communicate with the spirits of nature and the deceased. Likewise, I quickly realized that although these entities straddle our plane, they mostly inhabited other dimensions, rendering them imperceptible to an underdeveloped third eye. I’ve seen non-human spirits manifest around myself and others as fleeting lights. These little orbs that flicker about tend to be purple more than any other color. I do a “test” (for my own sanity) to see if the orbs follow the direction of my gaze in order to verify whether or not it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me. Legitimate stay put and shortly disappear afterwards, not following my gaze with a squiggly line in my periphery. In fact, just as I sat down to pen “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (a poem featured in Quail Bell!), I saw a little purple orb with my physical eyes momentarily twinkle on the lined page of the composition notebook that I had just opened. However, orbs like these tend to disappear quickly after catching my notice, not that they’re hard to catch since it’s been happening all throughout my journey of attunement to their energy, even from the very beginning. I take solace in the fact that other people see them around me too, especially if we’re doing some kind of spell work or meditation.

My family moved into the old house where I’ve resided I was in fifth grade and for most of my young life. I immediately knew it was haunted and took eager interest in it upon moving in. Adolescents tend to have very chaotic auras (the personal energy field that emanates from within a person, item, or place) that are capable of causing poltergeist phenomenon. My room in particular used to creep my family out not because of the vulgar band posters or step-devouring clutter, nor was it the fact that my ghoulish self spent most of my time within the confines of those walls. No, my chamber held an atmospheric darkness that made the tepid lavender walls look all the more unsettling. Being someone whom has been acutely sensitive to ghosts and spirits for so long, I often remarked to my parents that the house was haunted but in order to evade the problem, they made lame attempts to hush my protests by denying what I clearly knew was the truth. 

It wasn’t until much later when my sister and her friend saw a distinct human silhouette standing in her bedroom window in our temporarily vacant home. Since my parents were gone, they naturally assumed was me...that is, until I returned home from my destination to find them freaking out in their car, marking just one of the many instances of inexplicable strangeness that only served to validate my conviction.

My bedroom was the first space I ever had to claim as my own since we had moved away from our little converted beach house into a house that was built for year-round living during the 1800’s. (In fact, our garage was originally designed to shelter horses.) Although the foreign solitude sometimes grew overwhelming on the nights during an initial adjustment phase, I was grateful to be liberated from that shoe box that we once inhabited and cherished the newfound freedom of dwelling in a nook of the world that was specifically reserved for me. Anybody who knows me also knows how much I value my solitude so when we first moved in, one can imagine how much I binged on the luxury of being alone. However, my room was haunted and the protests of the adults in my life didn’t dissuade me. It was still a living situation with which I had to cope. At the time, I wasn’t regularly performing any psychic or magical exercises but I was still able to sense entities. I came to learn that my elders simply couldn’t (or didn’t want to) see.

At night, I began seeing a neon green orb floating by my door nearly every night. On about three occasions, the suspicious spirit light would slowly flitter over to the center of my room, but most of the time, it stayed stationary by my door. Whenever I would tell my parents, they assured me that it was just the headlights of passing cars. I was adamant enough about the reality of the ghostly lantern’s existence to invite my sister into my room for a night. That night, the green orb made like a willow-the-wisp and disappeared each of the nights that I invited my sister to sleep in my room so I could show it to her. 

I don’t remember how long it went on for, but it eventually got to a point where I felt free enough to approach it. Requiting the evident curiosity of this sprite and emboldened by a lack of troubling vibes, I arose from my bed and advanced toward it. I got within less of an inch of the strange luminescent form that was vertically ascending alongside my closed chestnut door. Just as I began to crouch to get on a more eye-to-eye level with it, the radiant antumbra of the tiny sphere instantaneously flickered out with the whimsical deliberation of a firefly, the same thing that happened every other time I tried to gently confront the glimmering specter. The orb would lose its glow but I still saw a vague, three-dimensional outline of the same shape it had when it was aglow. I sensed that it the orb somewhat sentient but nonetheless abided by some unknown physics that the orb’s energy reacted to in patternistic, predetermined ways. The little night sprite must have lost interest in me as well as being the star of my nightly spectacle. The disappearance of that neon orb would not be the last time that I encountered a physical orb.

During my junior year of college, I was in a terrible living situation that was characterized by misunderstandings (as well as outright lies on the behalf of the person whom arranged the situation), holes in the wall, sequential tragedies, numerous interpersonal conflicts, and the concomitant tension that made all of my friends disdain hanging out in the living room. It was so bad that I often wound up sleeping in the college co-op that was open until midnight because I would have preferred to live and spend my time in a setting that wasn’t so volatile, a place free of passive-aggressive nonsense and utter selfishness. Any remembrance of this time truly irks me, so I would rather not get too into it to avoid further trash-talking that has almost nothing to do with the point of this essay, but I’m sure that you can imagine how much negative energy began to infuse that place. 

When one of my good friend replaced my old roommate, I enjoyed living there much more and after two of my other good friends moved in, my apartment became a much happier place. I was so happy to be there, that I hardly ever left our quarters. I didn’t have to—all of our friends came to our place to hang out and I loved the apartment from then on. I couldn’t help but feel an animistic sentiment as though the actual apartment liked our harmonious togetherness as well.

On a sunny spring saturday during our second semester, I was on my computer looking at what I believe was some metaphysical subject matter and negative energy. I believe this was the first that I read that doorways and the doors hinged into them tend to collect a lot of negative energy and to take extra care in cleansing them. I’d performed some cleansings in the living room but never in my own room, a room where my old roommate simmered in anger that was undoubtedly specific to me. To allow that energy to linger would simply not benefit me nor would it benefit my relationship with my newfound space. I grabbed some honeysuckle oil (one of my favorite scents and flowers) and forcefully drew a banishing pentacle while commanding with words and intentions that all negative energy dissolve and volleyed it back to its source. 

Think that’s unethical? You reap what you sow. Do NOT send me any energy that you wouldn’t want imposed upon yourself. I reserve the full right to protect my body, spirit, and mind as well as my space. Besides, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to cause upheaval in their lives and that wasn't my intention. I just wanted it out. Afterward, I didn’t think anything of it as I returned to my computer and began mindlessly browsing social media site in addition to other sites of a more mundane nature.

It was amidst a moment totally void of suspicion and my sixth sense didn’t start tingling, but somehow my eyes strayed from the screen to notice a black dot levitating in the corner of the room. Apprehensively, I wondered what the hell it was as I calmly stood up and approached it. 

The pitch black, slightly-egg-shaped was edge with the finest frays that delicately constituted its the fringes of its shape, revealing how it shifted ever so slightly like a tiny amorphous cluster of fine pixels. For a moment, I wondered if it was an egg sack or perhaps some kind of floating dust clod but part of me knew that what I was speculating was far beyond the parameters of normalcy. Careful not to wake anyone up, I quietly made my way into the living where my good friend Joe was sleeping. Though I didn’t make any noise, he stirred into wakefulness to find me just arriving at point before the couch. Joe was by no means as consumed with occult endeavors as myself, but he enjoyed reading about new age subject matter and metaphysics. He had only recently started having very sporadic run-ins with the supernatural world since adopting an interest in self-improvement through spirituality and his psychic senses had increased somewhat, but he was by no means an expert or even an enthusiast.

“Dude, I’ve gotta show you something,” I said, “I gotta know if I’m tripping balls or something.”

Joe followed me down the hall where we found the black orb still lingering in the same place, elevated only slightly above my head. (I should note that I stand at around 5’7.) We gawked at the foreign matter floating before our very eyes.

“It’s probably harmless, dude,” Joe assured me, “I just have no idea what it is.”

I didn’t sense any danger but remained cautious of the chance that it was an insect’s egg sack. Of course, that’s when I lifted my fingers so that I could feel the texture of the shadowy substance that this thing was comprised of.

“Don’t touch it. I don’t think it’s bad, but it’s probably not something you want to touch.”

Suddenly, the obvious dawned upon me.

“I just did a banishing spell,” I epiphanized aloud, “That might have something to do with it.”

As soon as I said that, the black orb began to slowly descend and just before it met the floor, it vanished. No remnants of the unknown drop of darkness stained the carpet or anywhere else in the room. Like the green orb that I used to see in my adolescence, the black orb was there for a reason, although it appeared less sentient and more aloof whereas the first orb wanted my attention. In retrospect, the vibes were more playful and peaceful from the green orb although supernatural lights floating around at night would definitely be a cause of concern for most people. I sensed no malice and if anything, the orb seemed indifferent and guided by some ingrained instinct that, one again, was most likely governed by some otherworldly physics.

Later research revealed that solid black orbs like the one I encountered that day have been reported by many people. According to the faery folklore of Wales, these orbs were known as “lobs” and were reputed to appear (sporadically or recurrently) in places where malice, strife, and all other intensely negative emotions took place. Lobs are said to flock toward any disharmony, regardless of whether the volatility was very present in the near past or any degree into the future. The present is no exception. Modern reports of black orb encounters confirm that these orbs are truly gravitate to negative energy, as even modern reports claim that they can sometimes been seen with the naked eye drifting around grieving or people, vulnerable amidst a time when life was especially difficult and negativity was running high (McCoy). Some people have even reported that these physical black orbs can induce negative states that causes the host human to feel misery that is disproportionate to what they’re thinking about or even without any sensible cause. That is, if they have minds that can construct complicated thoughts to begin with. With just a small google investigation, you’ll immediately be met with accounts of these orbs, some of which describe varying levels of sentience, different colors, and odd behavior.

The property upon which the campus has a longstanding history of human settlement. Remnants of the Westchester estate still stand in the form of boundaries of gray, flat stones were built by slaves and buildings that have remained in usage since the 1800’s. Some other little houses are allowed to dwell in peace because they’re kept around as antique landmarks, much like the bizarre statues that can be found interspersed throughout the woods, in the walkways, and outside of the brick academic buildings where actual schooling takes place. Material constructions aren’t all that survived. Ghosts have been seen and felt by many students around an enormous tree known as “The Elephant Tree.” According to the folklore, slaves were hung by nooses from this mighty tree and continue to haunt it. I've also spotted shadow people by the stone boundary in the woods across from the Farside dormitory. Shadow people appear to be composed of the same “stuff” as black orbs, or at least a similar substance that looks and possibly feels like how a black orb would. 

Seeing as they do not show up on cameras and disappear without a trace as peruse, black orbs are only there for the moment unless they follow you for whatever reason, something else that they’ve been reputed to do. Accounts of shadow people describe some as harmlessly curious and others as indifferent but a sizable portion of accounts detail the sinister experiences through which they suffered as a shadow person took special care in frightening and harassing them. However, I’ll leave that for another time.

Reference:
McCoy, Edain. A Witch's Guide to Faery Folk: Reclaiming Our Working Relationship with Invisible Helpers. St. Paul, Minn.: Llewelyn Publications, 1994. Print.
#BlackOrbs #Magic #Supernatural #FairyPower #AlienCommunication

Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.