Last night, at about 3 a.m., my indoor-staying shepherd jumped onto the bed, plopped down on me, and jarred me from complete sleep, reminding me that, yet again, I was being "protected." There's something about having an 80-pound dog jump on you when you're asleep that concentrates the mind. As I've written earlier, this has happened quite a few times in recent weeks. So, I have a silly shepherd that is "protecting" me--from what, I don't know. I don't remember much of anything from these experiences, and I've usually been afraid to look for anything.
But this morning, as I was carrying the dog outside, it dawned on me that the shepherd might be seeing or sensing something that I can't (or won't), because his behavior is otherwise inexplicable. I didn't sense any presences; there were no sounds or anything else odd in the house, as far as I was concerned; but the dog saw it. Who, or what, is visiting me at 3 a.m.? Whatever it is, it's probably not harmful, since it's been happening for years, and I haven't had any ill effects from it. But it is definitely spooking the dog.
I've actually experienced far more evil in the physical world than in the metaphysical, but then, I have a firm practice of not dabbling with the unseen. To the extent that "living right" can guarantee a certain amount of protection, I've tried to do the best I can. So, I've tried to avoid the obvious sorts of things that would bring on an unseen, malevolent visitation, including (and not limited to) not robbing banks, not dealing in meth, not murdering people serially, and not cheating on my taxes. To the extent that there is some sort of controlling universal Nanny who bothers to worry about what we do or don't do, I've tried to cover all the bases.
I've thought a lot about Rachel Baker's experience (on Paratopia) where she "called" or "invited" these strange, unseen forces to manifest in front of her... and then spent the entire subsequent night, afraid that they might do just that. I know exactly what she's talking about. I went through a phase of experimentation in the '80s, when I was young, naive, foolish, and had not yet completed my Fleetwood Mac vinyl collection. The unknown was still unknown then. But I never really pursued it. But it might still be coming around. And I would be none the wiser, were it not for a silly dog that thinks that pounding me halfway through the mattress in the middle of a dead sleep is somehow going to make me safe from the unknown.
Whatever it is, it seems benign. And maybe I'll get a glimpse of it soon.