Interactive Web Series
Whispers from the Cave tells the true story of an 800 year old monk (I’m actually not quite sixty, but I feel like I’m 800!) living in a 150 year old school house that just happens to be haunted!
- Part old-time radio show.
- Part history.
- Part investigative journalism.
- Part penny dreadful.
- Part autobiography.
Whispers from the Cave features limited edition, exclusive content examining the daily life and reflections of a modern monk living in a “cave” surrounded by ghosts.
- 4+ episodes per month (written and recorded)
- Exclusive content (not available anywhere else)
- Interactive discussion (bring your burning questions)
- Educational and Informative
- Inspiring and Supportive
- Special pricing for the first 100 subscribers
Grab your morning cup, your favorite blanket, and snuggle in as you prepare to meet:
The Monk.
The Cave.
The Ghosts.
and their stories.
The Monk: Lauri Ann Lumby
I’m what one might call a modern monastic. No, I haven’t joined a convent, or taken up the habit and I have no interest in a vow of celibacy (though having celibacy imposed upon me these past many years, I can’t say celibacy is a bad thing….just leaving my options open!). However, I have increasingly found myself living a monastic kind of life.
Having stepped away from the trappings of the material world, I live a quiet, simple life. Most of my days are spent in solitude, immersed in meditation and prayer, simple chores, writing, creating, and seeing an occasional client or teaching an occasional online course. I have no interest in the things “of this world,” especially those things imposed upon us by the capitalistic “ideal.” I spent my earlier life driving, striving, and trying to achieve, finding myself with nothing but a bloody forehead. Now I prefer a life free from sacrifice, the pressure to perform, and the desire to be seen.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I’m a somewhat of a prophet. I see and know what is happening and about to happen in our world. Rather than participate in the impending collapse of the empire, I’m choosing to get out of the way while quietly building a whole new world. Perhaps you’d like to join me?
The Cave
Dale School is an Italianate style brick school building designed by William Waters and constructed in three stages: 1870, 1889, and 1908. It was last used as a school in 1981 after which it was converted into character loft apartments. There are now sixteen units in the building famous for their soaring ceilings, nature hardwood floors, three-foot thick walls, and twelve-foot windows.
Dale School has been my home since 2019, where I have carved out a quiet, solitary life, increasingly so after my adult children moved out and into their own homes. My apartment has become my cave, my temple, and my sanctuary. Those I love are welcome here, including those few special clients who come for counsel and healing.
Oh yeah, and the ghosts who also live here!
The Ghosts
I’m not kidding when I say “I see dead people.” I don’t see them in the way others might, but I do see them. Strangely, I first became aware of this gift after moving to this strange swamp town where I’ve lived since 1992. In fact, every apartment or house that I’ve lived in these past thirty years has been otherwise occupied (by ghosts!). I’ve always found myself sharing my accommodations with those who lived there before me and have since gone on from this physical life. For whatever reason, they have chosen to remain on this plane in ghostly form. Some have asked for my assistance in moving on from this plane, but many have chosen to stay.
Dale School, I quickly learned, is no different. Since moving in, I have become intimately acquainted with the four ghosts who have chosen to remain here:
The School Teacher
The Custodian
The Little Boy
The Hall Monitor
When asked if they would like help moving on, their emphatic answer is NO. For their own reasons they have all chosen to stay. I welcome the Teacher when she visits my room (I’m pretty sure my apartment was once her classroom). I greet the Custodian and the Little Boy as they putter about their chores in the lower level. I ask the Hall Monitor for permission to pass when I need to visit the second floor. They all have their own stories and I’m happy to share my home with them.
The Unsettled Spirits of Dale School live elsewhere. They’re in the nooks and crannies of the cobweb infested basement, in the bowels of the ancient boiler, and in the sewers of abandoned lavatories. They are also in the attic with the guano and air conditioning vents. I stay away from those dark and unsettled spaces, but for the sake of this series, I will bravely go where only HVAC and phone system technicians have dared to go.
Lauri Ann Lumby 