50) Is Love Truly Enough?

I have recently been questioning one of my deepest held beliefs.  Not that I would ever doubt spirits existence, or that we are eternal souls,  no, I have no problems with that.  What I have been doubting is the almost universal belief that somehow,  love  conquers all. It seems to me that everywhere I look, either on Facebook or within spiritual internet sites, the over-riding message is that love is all you need, love will overcome anything, love is the key to happiness. I have been struggling with this the past few years.  Yes, I believe that if we all based our decisions on love, our actions on love and our thoughts on love, the world would be a better place, but unfortunately not everyone does!

Maybe it is true in the universal sense, and maybe it is also true in a soul sense, when you take many lives and average it all out, but I’m talking about this one particular physical life we are living right now.  In my experience, and that of some of my closest friends, no matter how much you love someone, they can still use you, betray you and abuse you. Recently a very dear friend of mine had been blatantly used and deeply hurt by someone she considered a life-long friend, a woman she had always tried to help and support in any way she could.  She can find no rhyme or reason for her friend’s behaviour and is extremely upset.  I feel powerless as all I can do is listen but I can’t take away her pain.  Finally, after many weeks of emotional hurt she came to the decision to end their friendship.  Whilst that may well help her to avoid any further mistreatment by her friend, she is left still reeling from recent events.  I wonder what lessons are being taught when someone who so obviously cares about another is mistreated by them.

My own personal experiences have been difficult to contend with at times.  I used to firmly believe that if you showed someone love and compassion that they would treat you well, but often through my life I have found the absolute opposite to be true.  I have puzzled over this many times and had thought that it must be a certain kind of lesson that needed learning.  I have even tried to feel grateful for the role that someone must have agreed to play to assist me in walking my spiritual path. 

Logically it makes sense to me that kindness should help people to overcome their difficulties. This is something I have pondered for such a long time and have asked my spiritual guides for some guidance on this but so far have not received any answers.

When you make the decision to help someone, in whichever way you feel they may benefit, whether it is just a gentle hug, a time to listen to them, or assistance in a more physical sense, why do they then turn around and be rude or malicious towards you?

It has happened in my life so many times that I can see a pattern of events.  What I am hoping is that one day I will have a ‘light-bulb’ moment and suddenly the reason behind this will fall into place.  My husband, Simon, tells me that he thinks I am too gentle, too soft and too forgiving.  I have so often wished I could toughen up as I think my life may be so much easier,  but the problem with that is that I wouldn’t be me anymore.

My brother  always used to laugh at my tolerance and lack of temper.  Considering the parents I had, who honestly  could have won the olympics if there had been an arguing event, you’d have thought I would have a quick temper, but this isn’t true at all. 

I still remember my Mum’s look of amazement when she saw me lose my temper for the very first time when I was fourteen.  We had been to visit Dad in hospital where he had just undergone life saving surgery and he was on full life support, so to say we were concerned and stressed was an understatement.  Mum was driving our large estate car, and I have to say she wasn’t the most confident of drivers at the best of times, but with the worry of Dad obviously on her mind, she had become distracted and taken a wrong turn.  We ended up in a very narrow dead-end street with cars parked each side.  At the very end there was little space to turn around.  It was only just after 9pm, so not what you would call very late.  Mum had to try to turn the car around which meant going backwards and forwards many many times.  She was, I admit, revving the engine a little whilst trying to navigate safely and gently between the cars, but the noise wasn’t that bad.  Well this chap came out of his house and started really shouting abuse at Mum.  Without a thought I jumped out of the car and walked right up to him and gave him such a ticking off.  I was livid that he had upset my Mum and certainly let him know it.  I told him where we’d been and what was happening to my Dad.  Much to my surprise the man became very apologetic and offered to help Mum with the reversing.  What a turn-around! 

I have always found it easier to fight other people’s battles rather than my own.  My brother used to say that I was like the worm that turned, and by that he meant you could push me so far and then that was that.  How right he was.  I have to admit that I can take an awful lot but finally there is the straw that breaks the camels back, and funnily enough it is often a very little straw!

I have had to break ties with people I have truly loved because they have behaved so badly towards me, and it comes to a point when you realise that all the love in the world cannot change their behaviour, and so very sadly and reluctantly, there really is no choice but to walk away.  Sometimes the hurt of staying in a relationship becomes so deep that your physical body cannot cope with the pain, and sometimes, and possibly even more importantly,  you have to learn to value and respect yourself, which I have found the toughest lesson to learn. 

I saw this too with my own Mum.  She tried so very hard to have a good relationship with her  Step-Mother and did everything she could to try to make it work.  When we were a young family we would all travel up to London to see my Nan. We would make this journey at least once a month. Mum and Dad would have to save hard to pay for the petrol and would always be  praying that the car wouldn’t break down because it was pretty old and extremely unreliable. At the time there were no such things as baby seats in cars and Mum would have to spend two hours sitting in the back of the car with my twin, Tina,  and I in her arms.  She laughed when she told us by the time they got there her arms couldn’t move!    As  Tina and I became older we both suffered from dreadful car sickness.  How Mum and Dad coped with this I just don’t know, it must have been a nightmare for them. I know that Mum would always keep a couple of spare outfits for us and on many occasions as soon as we arrived at Nan’s house we would have to nip upstairs and change into fresh clothes.  Thankfully our older brother Ray was not car sick, that would have been unbearable!

When  Tina and I were eleven we went to stay with Nan for the week before we started at senior school.  Mum and Dad took us up there and we spent a wonderful time with her.  We went to see shows in London and enjoyed meeting all of her friends and generally having fun.  When the week was up Mum and Dad came and collected us and strangely the mood in the car on the way home was decidedly frosty.  Sadly for us, that was the last time we ever saw our Nan.  A week or so after our holiday Mum made the decision to break all ties with her.  I was devastated.  I had adored Nan and couldn’t understand how Mum could be so cruel. 

As a young child, what I hadn’t known was that my Nan could actually drive and had a very nice car.  She would tell Mum of all the trips she took to see her various relatives all over the country and yet she had only ever made the journey to visit us once in the eighteen years since Mum had married. Nan was very comfortably off and would help all her  relatives, and yet she never once offered any help to Mum at all.  Mum told me years later that she had spent so much time broken-hearted at the way Nan treated her  that finally she couldn’t take the hurt anymore.  I know now it was not an easy decision for Mum to make and I know that she remained extremely upset about it for the rest of her life.  She had lost her Dad when she was in her early twenties, and having been told that her natural Mother had abandoned her as a baby, she had  desperately wanted to have a loving relationship with Nan.

It took me a very long time to realise that what I and others had perceived as weakness, was in fact an enormous act of strength on my Mum’s part. I can’t imagine the courage she must have mustered to be able to walk away under those circumstances, but she did, and I am sure that in the following years she certainly didn’t miss the heartache that she had endured for so much of her life. One day, when I am once again in spirit and I have my life review, I feel certain that all will become clear …… but in the meantime I must admit I really find this all so very hard to understand.

47) Mixed Blessings

Sword 01

There have been several instances in my life where being aware of more than just our physical lives has sometimes felt like a double-edged sword.

When I was in my early twenties  my ex and I lived in Twickenham and we would often drive along Richmond Road to Richmond.  One day we drove past a truck with a lift attached to the back.  I have no idea what they are called, but they have a small cage which normally has one or two men in it whilst they carry out maintenance to the street lamps.  As we drove towards the truck I could see a film in my head of the cage being hit by a double-decker bus.  I felt sick in my stomach and without realising it had let out a very loud “oh my God”.  He asked me what the problem was and I told him what I had just seen in my head.  He kind of tutted and said it would be fine.  It was quite a long road and before the road went to the left round a bend I looked out of the back window back towards the truck.  I could see a bus coming along and then to my horror it hit the cage.  I gasped and shouted “oh no, you have to stop” but my ex was in busy traffic. He said that as the road was busy there would be lots of people to help.  I think he expected me to just carry on as normal but I just couldn’t. 

In August 1990 I was working and living in Okehampton, Devon.  Working so close to home meant that I could go home for lunch and give myself a welcome break from the pressure of my work.  I remember one day so very well.  I had sat down to eat a sandwich, put the television on and saw that the lunchtime news was giving information about a missing little girl.  She was only eight years old and very strangely had been taken through an open window of a caravan whilst she and her family were on holiday in Bridport, Dorset.  As I watched I felt so worried for her and concerned for her family. I doubt that anyone can imagine how it must feel to know that your child has been taken and you have no idea where she is, or even whether she is dead or alive.

Oddly, as I watched the footage of a line of police officers scouring the local fields for any evidence, I had another movie playing in my head.  I could see the little girl in a derelict house with a young  man and she was frightened and crying.  Most importantly she was alive.  I felt the man was mentally unstable and that concerned me more than anything.  Then, just as suddenly as the ‘movie’ had started, it stopped and I was back to watching tv again. I was quite taken aback and really thought that it was just wishful thinking.

There was a part of me that thought I should do something about the pictures I had just seen, but the logical part of me disregarded the nagging voice in my head, and so I put it to one side and went back to work.  Throughout the afternoon though I kept seeing the same movie over and over again, and no matter how I tried to ignore it, it just wouldn’t go away. Finally, by the time I had finished work and went home I was beginning to think I was going mad.  I was sure that by now they would have found the girl and as soon as I got indoors I put the tv on to see the evening news.  Again, they showed the police looking for her, and yet again in my head I was shown the house she was in.

I had a lurching feeling in my stomach as if I had just been given some bad news. I realised then that I couldn’t sit and do nothing and so I decided to phone my local police station. I had half expected them to tell me not to waste their time, and was in fact already wondering what else I could do if that was the case. Much to my surprise the man who answered the phone listened patiently and told me they would send a detective to come and see me. Even more surprising was that he arrived only about ten minutes later.

As I opened the door a wave of embarrassment came over me, I told him that he most probably would think I was totally crazy  but I just knew I had to do something and didn’t know what else to do other than phone the police.  He was actually very nice and told me that having been in the police service for a number of years nothing surprised him anymore. He asked me to describe the house and the young man I had seen and also asked if I could draw the house for him.  I tried my best to explain everything in the greatest detail I could, I  managed to draw a rough sketch of the house and signed a formal police statement. As he left I literally prayed that someone somewhere would take notice of the information and that they would start to search houses for the little girl rather than looking in the countryside for a corpse.  I really felt that time was running out and that they had been looking in the wrong place.

I hardly slept that night, and again, first thing in the morning put on the tv to see the news.  The little girl had still not been found.  I felt I had no option but to drive the 65 miles to Bridport.  I was hoping against hope that I would somehow be able to spot the house, and if I did I had planned to then inform the police.  I drove around for hours, but didn’t see any houses like the one I had seen in my vision. I sadly and wearily drove back to Okehampton. A huge part of me felt I had let the little girl down and I was becoming concerned that the video I had seen in my head seemed to have gone away. I just prayed that nothing dreadful had happened to her.  I was glued to the tv all evening and  there was still no news.

Again I had a restless night.  I was puzzling why I could no longer see the pictures in my mind and also wondering if I had somehow imagined the whole thing.  At last the morning arrived and the first thing I did was put the television on.  Still no news.  I went to work, struggling to stay awake and to stay calm but with my tummy continually churning, which I have learnt over the years is a physical response I have when spirit is close.

Thankfully that day the little girl was found, safe and well.  I was absolutely amazed when they showed the house on the tv and zoomed in – it was exactly the derelict house I had described to the police. Also, as I had told them,  she was with a young man who was later found guilty of kidnap and imprisoned in a secure mental health unit. I now wonder if my visions had stopped because I had done all I could.  I doubt if I will ever really know.

As expected I never did hear anymore from the police on this, but I do hope that my statement made them realise, for the future at least, that it is worth listening to information from mediums.

After  this event I seemed to go through a couple of years where many times, especially when a child went missing, I would be shown the most sad and often harrowing scenes but I was not given any further information.   I would also watch tv interviews of families where children had gone missing and know instinctively who was responsible, but with no evidence to back it up I couldn’t contact anyone.  I just knew that there was nothing I could do. On each occasion my ‘knowing’ was proved right. Eventually I asked my guides not to let me have  information if there was no action I could take to help  and thankfully those kind of visions stopped. 

On the plus side, when I was learning to drive in deepest Devon, many of my lessons were on very narrow winding roads. Very often my driving instructor would comment on my sixth sense as I would often be happily whizzing along for miles, then I would just know to slow down and pull over, and sure enough a car would always come the other way. I had several lessons with my good friend Jeanette and she became really spooked by my unusual awareness. On so many occasions I would know exactly what other cars were going to do, even if their signals and road position indicated otherwise. One time we were behind queuing cars at traffic lights and I was supposed to get in the empty right hand lane to turn right, but I held back. Jeanette told me to move forward but I insisted that the car at the lights, indicating left and with his wheels already pointing in that direction, would be pulling across in front of me. Jeanette laughed and just thought I was being daft. Sure enough though, as the lights changed, the car in the left hand lane suddenly swung to the right and tore off at great speed.

Almost thirty years ago I had a wonderful spiritual reading, by telephone, with a medium I had never met. Straight away she asked me if I ever felt ‘cobwebs’ on my face as I was driving. I said yes. it was quite normal for me, and she went on to explain that it was a sign that my maternal Grandfather was with me. She told me he was a lorry driver in his life time and he was looking after me. She knew nothing about me, but she was right, he had been a lorry driver, and since that time whenever I feel ‘cobwebs’ on my face I say thank you to my Grandfather. This has happened so many times, and still does, I really feel I am so fortunate to have him watching over me.

Over the years I have learnt to trust spirit and the visions I have which have rarely been incorrect.  I have sometimes wondered if my life would have been easier had I not been so aware, but in reality I wouldn’t change a thing.  My connections with spirit have made such an enormous and positive difference to my life and hopefully, at times, have helped others along the way too.  If through my awareness, even  just a few people have been touched by the love of spirit and the knowledge that our lives, right now, are only part of our souls journey, then I feel truly blessed.

43) Interconnectedness

Wednesday morning

On Tuesday nights I watch ‘Touch’, a fictional supernatural programme starring Keifer Sutherland who plays Martin, a widower, and who is the single father of a young boy, Jake, who is emotionally challenged. 

Martin is unable to make any kind of connection with Jake who has never spoken a word and will not allow anyone to touch him. Jake lives in his own world but he is obsessed with numbers and can see both the past, present and future through the connections that the numbers make. I have always felt that we are all connected, that we are all from the creator, or as some would say, from source, or from God.  I find the series fascinating with its insight into synchronicity and the realisation for the father, Martin, that there are no such things as coincidences. 

On Monday I had received an email from a woman in America who has been reading my blogs. She asked me if I could help her in advising how she could receive spiritual healing.  She had, she felt, been the victim of a con man who had charged her quite a large amount for supposedly healing her.  She needed someone she could trust and had asked spirit for guidance and they had told her to contact me! I wasn’t feeling too well on Tuesday,  so I didn’t reply to her straight away, but sent an email telling her I would email her again on Wednesday.

Tuesday night I settled down to watch Touch. This weeks episode wasn’t so much about numbers, but more about a pattern within a cats cradle that Jake kept making with wool.  Martin, his father, had to try to place the pattern and work towards connecting people who were associated with it.  All sounds rather odd if you haven’t been watching Touch, but in the programme it all made perfect sense.  The important part of the pattern was two triangles which kept appearing in different guises and always made a connection with people, even across continents.

On Wednesday morning I was lying in bed, thinking of the email I had received and how I could possibly  help someone who lived so far away – over 4,000 miles –  when I happened to look out of my bedroom window.  I just couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw a perfect cross in the sky.  It was exactly the pattern that Jake had been showing his father which connected everyone!  I knew there and then that the distance between us meant nothing spiritually.

That in itself, was, synchronistically speaking, quite amazing.  Later on Wednesday I was chatting to a wonderful friend of mine, Jane, who is both a gifted medium and healer.  She was telling me about a workshop she had recently attended which was teaching a new way of healing, it was about a system called The Healing Code.  I looked it up on the internet and saw that there was a book available and downloaded it to my kindle.  Having read a few chapters I thought it would make sense for the lady in America to read it too.  I emailed her and sent her a link to the book.  At the same time I agreed to send her spiritual healing myself, and as I was typing her email I was covered in goosebumps which to me shows that I am certainly make the right decision.

The following day I received another email from her.  On Wednesday she had gone and bought a book, The Power, the follow-up book to The Secret.  It wasn’t the one I had been reading, but it included reference to the same man who had written the book I had advised her to buy!  He was the only MD featured in the popular DVD of The Secret.  Neither of us could believe it!! There we are, me living here in England and her in America, and of all the books in the world, she buys a book that includes a reference to the very same man.  What are the chances of that? More synchronicity.

I feel that spirit has shown me this week, in more than one way, that we are all truly connected. We arranged that today I would send the  lady spiritual healing.  As I sat at a pre-arranged time I was again covered in my familiar goose-bumps and as I asked my healing guides to draw close and send healing to the lady I felt the most wonderful connection.

Truth really is stranger than fiction!

41) Whooshy!

Goose bumps provoked by a fresh breeze. Photo ...

Goose bumps provoked by a fresh breeze. Photo taken in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I was a very young girl I was always aware of energies around me because, when they were about, I experienced head to toe goosebumps.  I would happily be walking down the stairs and then suddenly …. whoosh … there they were …  and I would be terrified!

From when I was 9 years old we lived in a typical 1930’s semi-detached three bedroom house in Twickenham, outer London.  When Mum and Dad first bought the house it was very dowdy and when we arrived I thought it was really spooky.  Full of dark colours and with drab curtains hanging at the windows, I wasn’t at all impressed.  I’d have given anything to go back to the modern houses we had lived in when we were living in Essex before Dad had been transferred from Shell Haven, near Southend, to the Shell laboratories in Egham, Surrey.  Mum though was thrilled to be living back near London and her relatives, and Dad was really happy as his transfer was also a step up the career ladder.

My twin sister, Tina, and I had to share the back bedroom which was decorated with wallpaper that was supposed to be ‘stone-wall effect’.  Why anyone would ever want that in a bedroom I had no idea.  It was horrid! Mum and Dad had the large double room overlooking the green at the front of the house, my brother Ray had a small single room and we all shared a pretty awful stark and very chilly bathroom.  Downstairs was a sitting room with a dark wood panelled dining room at one end and a fairly small kitchen with a walk-in larder.  There was no separate loo and no central heating.  In the kitchen was a very old coal-fired boiler which I gathered heated the hot water and the only other heating in the house was a coal fire in the sitting room that seemed to emit more smoke than warmth.  The back garden faced north-east so it was never bright and sunny. All in all I wondered, even at that young age, why on earth Mum and Dad had bought this awful dreary house.

Within a short time of moving in Mum, Tina and I were very busy decorating.  Yes, you did read that correctly! My Dad, bless, was no decorator, and unless you wanted your wallpaper hung upside down or with the pattern mis-matched, and drips of gloss running down the doors, you didn’t ask him to help. Ray was far more interested in being out and about with his friends, so it was up to us girls to get stuck in.  Mum  was a dab-hand at everything d.i.y. and from when Tina and I could just about walk she had taught us all she knew.  She had so much patience and would spend hours teaching us how to prepare surfaces for painting, how to hold a paintbrush and put just enough gloss paint on so that it covered but did not run.   There she was with her beautifully manicured nails and her exquisitely styled hair, full make up and happy as a sandboy, she’d be up and down ladders, painting, wallpapering and even stripping and painting furniture.  Mum was fantastic with colours and her interior design flair soon brightened every inch of the house. All the dark wallpapers had gone replaced by bright light modern colours.  It was a total transformation and the neighbours kept popping round to ask Mum’s advise.  She missed her calling there I think, she should have set up in business and she’d have done so well.

From the moment we moved in I felt that there was a lot going on spiritually speaking.  Both Tina and I were becoming more and more aware of energies in our bedroom at night.  I would get myself under the covers and not dare to peek out because I just knew ‘someone’ was in the room and would be covered in goosebumps, no matter the actual temperature.  Stupidly I had thought that now the house was brighter I would feel more at ease.  I suppose thinking about it now, why would the colour of the wallpaper or the curtains make one jot of difference to a spirit!

What didn’t help either was that Dad would often go upstairs and sit on his own in the bedroom he and Mum shared.  If you walked past the door you could hear him having a one-sided conversation (not that Tina and I would ever stand there and listen intentionally!).  It was all very odd and  if we asked who he was talking to he would make some excuse not to answer.  It was only many years later that he told us that he would be talking to his twin sister Mary, who had died when he was five, and he also had regular chats with his Father-in-law, Ray (Mum’s Dad), who had passed to spirit before Tina and I were even born.  Mum was  exploring her religious beliefs and spirituality and  among other religions that she dabbled with, was off to spiritual meetings and circles whilst we lived there, so no wonder the house was busy with spirit energies!

I remember one particular Saturday afternoon.  Dad was sitting watching sport on the tv and I was going to go upstairs to collect a book to read.  As I went to go up the stairs I was suddenly covered in goosebumps and I froze, I called to Dad and explained that I had gone all whooshy.  To try to put me at my ease he explained that if there was anything on the stairs, our dog, Belle (a beautiful Saluki) would know about it.  He went and brought her out from the sitting room.  She too froze at the bottom of the stairs and with her heckels up began to growl. Dad said she had picked up on my fear and put  her back in the sitting room and went and got Perky, our cat, who was curled up by the boiler, and put her on the bottom of the stairs too.  There was no way she was going to go upstairs either! She quickly ran back into the kitchen. Dad walked up the stairs with me and as we almost got to the turn near the top the hairs on every inch of my body were standing on end and I was what I now term ‘mega-whooshy’.  As soon as we reached the landing the feeling began to subside.

The bathroom was very busy, spiritually speaking, I often felt ‘someone’ was in there, even in the bath I would be going whooshy!  Looking back I suppose I should have asked who it was, but at such a young age I never thought to do that. All of the family saw someone walk into the bathroom on many occasions and we also used to see the towels lifted off the towel rail, which became quite a common occurrence!  I soon learnt that the best way to deal with all the odd feelings I had was to imagine a transparent bubble surrounding me that nothing could penetrate. No-one ever told me to do this, it was purely instinctive, and throughout my whole  life it is something I  have often done without even really thinking about it.  I always feel amazingly safe in my bubble of protection.

Over the years in Twickenham the whole family saw and felt spirit energies both in the house and just outside in the garden.  Sometimes just one of us would experience something but often it would two or more of us at the same time.  We would all be sitting eating our lunch in the dining room and often see someone walk past the french doors, which was impossible as it went nowhere.  To begin with Dad would go outside to see who it was, but after several sightings we all just took it as ‘normal’ and would acknowledge whoever it was and carry on with our meal. I always knew someone was about because I would experience my whooshy feeling even before anyone else said anything.  I didn’t mind too much when we were all together, but I didn’t like it at all when I was in the house on my own, which I would try to avoid as much as possible.

Since that time I have learnt that when I feel the whoosh it is my very own spiritual radar working.  It has never been wrong.  It works in many different ways now.  I suppose as I’ve grown older,  it has been fine-tuned.  If I am giving a demonstration of spirit and am not sure who the recipient is, it has come in very handy.  For example, say I have an elderly gentleman trying to connect with someone, as I start giving evidence I am never sure who it is for.  If someone tries to accept the message and I don’t experience the ‘whoosh’ I know the message is not for them, but the moment the right recipient acknowledges the spirit, from my feet up I feel the ‘whoosh’ rushing right up through my body, and I know it is right.  It’s also very useful when I have been sitting in church, or in a circle, and someone tries to place a spirit reading with me.  They may say ‘I have your Dad with me’ and if I feel nothing I know they haven’t, but if I feel the whoosh I know they have.

As most of my friends are mediums or healers, we do have some, shall I say, rather strange conversations at times.  We chat about our experiences with spirit and some of them are really quite incredible, and some are almost unbelievable.   Many people, I am sure, had they been eavesdropping, would think ‘what a load of rubbish’, and I must admit on occasions I have found some things hard to swallow.  Even as I am sometimes recounting some of the wonderful and weird occurrences that I have been witness to, or been involved with, I am sure others must just have at least the slightest inkling that I am exaggerating!   I have sat listening to the most amazing stories and have been covered in goosebumps and just know that what I am being told is true.  I feel I am so fortunate to have my own lie-detector on board and what is even better is that I can show people too!  It doesn’t matter, even if I’m sitting in warm sunshine, if I get the whoosh, I am covered in goosebumps.  It is a wonderful way of proving that I am receiving a ‘signal’. At other times friends will ask my advise, and if they give me alternative solutions to their problems I will feel the whoosh when they mention the correct course of action for them to take. The whoosh then becomes like spiritual shorthand.  As I said, it has been fine-tuned, and I can’t imagine my life without it now.

I was sitting chatting to two friends, Niki and Sharon, last week and we were discussing how, after we had passed into spirit ourselves, we would be able to give the kind of evidence  to a medium so that our friends and loved ones would absolutely know it was us. For Sharon we said that she could say she had an affinity with wolves, had a phoenix tattoo and enjoyed karaoke.  That would certainly be Sharon! For Niki, we all agreed on the description of big hair (Niki naturally has lots and lots of very curly hair) and her favourite saying which is ‘I don’t know’.  I think we would know that was Niki without too much of a problem. For me, I had to laugh, Sharon said there was just one word that would guarantee it was me.  The word? Whooshy!!

16) I’m going to post a blog a day!

Inspirational Barnstar

WordPress have this wonderful idea – Post a Blog a Day!  They even give you a nice little intro that you can copy and post to your blog – but of course, when I tried, it refused to paste, so here is my version:

Having weaved my way around the WordPress site, trying to glean tips for the a new blogger, I somehow came across what is termed The Daily Post.  Its is full of inspiring ideas to help us bloggers blog a little more.  To begin with we have to add widgets and tags and things, some of which I find more than a little formidable.  I have read, re-read and read again the easy to use instructions, and as the intelligent woman I still try to consider I am, I find I am still none the wiser.

I have, as instructed,  pointed my mouse at the widget picture and clicked and then gone backwards and forwards to my blog ‘dashboard’ (that’s the technical word for the technical background bit of my blog, a bit like an engine for a car) and clicked here and there and have still found I haven’t got the widget I need.  It’s so much like my car, I know where the pedals are and the steering wheel, but put me under the bonnet and I have no idea what is what! I have learnt more about tags in the last couple of weeks, but I’m not quite sure of the difference between a tag and a category, so I always end up with a mixture of the two.  My ever helpful husband, advised me to keep a list of tags and categories on my desktop so that it would be easy for me to find for future use.  Hmmm, I’m sure it would be if I knew where on earth my computer had saved them.  I’ve made several lists of tags and categories now and can never find them again.  There must be a mass of lists somewhere in my laptop that I’m sure one day will come to light, but for the moment at least they are very much hidden.

So, to get back to this wonderful innovative idea of ‘post a blog a day’.  The challenge is to find inspiration from ideas that the Daily Post will give us bloggers, and then be able to write about it.  To me it sounds very much like a class I took with the Accolade Academy in Margam, Wales, with the most wonderful spiritual tutor, Tony Stockwell.

He had the bright idea that each of us would choose a random word and then someone in the class would have to talk about it for at least five minutes.  You couldn’t prepare this talk, or do any kind of background research, it had to be totally off the cuff and ideally inspired by spirit.  We all had to have a go, and I must say it was good fun once you get over the ‘I’m sounding like a total idiot’ phase.   The problem was, that unknown to us students, Tony was walking around the class listening in and was deciding who he would choose to demonstrate inspired speaking to the whole course on the final night.  He walked up to me with a big smile on his face and told me I was going to be one of his chosen students!  It was more than a little daunting, he told us that we could talk about absolutely any word at all, for at least five minutes.

The other classes on the course also had students that had been chosen by their tutors and the evening before the ‘performance’ I could see everyone busily writing notes and discussing their ideas.  I thought I must have the wrong idea, because I had not prepared anything at all.  I guessed that if it was supposed to be inspired then you should leave it to spirit and trust them to inspire you. I went to bed that night concerned that maybe I should have spent the evening in preparation instead of chatting socially with friends.  I spoke to Tony the next morning and asked him if I had got it wrong. He laughed and said, no, it was supposed to be inspired and no preparation was necessary.

In a way that sounded too easy and too terrifying all at the same time.  The whole day my tummy was full of butterflies, not gently fluttering away, no, these butterflies had boots on and were stampeding around, and I was dreading the moment I would be called to talk.  As we all took our seats I thought that I would feel better once I had seen a few others give their talks, but little did I know that I was to be called up first!  Looking back though it is a bit like having a dentists appointment first thing in the morning.  You get it over and done with and can then get on with enjoying your day.

I had been visibly shaking at the thought of standing up in front of all these people, my stomach was churning, my mouth was dry and my palms were sweaty. Amazingly as soon as my name was called and I walked to the front, a feeling of calm came over me.  I still had no idea what I was going to talk about.  There was a stand by the side of me with a description of all that Accolade Academy offers its students.  “Understanding your Awareness”, was one of the phrases that caught my eye.  Suddenly I was off, chatting about awareness.  I don’t know how long I spoke for, and to be honest I can barely remember what I said, but I did feel it flowed and was certainly inspired.  Phew, was I pleased when I could sit down.

So, I am going to try to approach this ‘blog a day’ challenge in exactly the same way.   All I have to do is trust that spirit will inspire me …. they have never let me down yet!

14) We’re experimenting!

Test tubes and other recipients in chemistry lab

After the wonderful and unexpected experience of Simon running about at night ‘el-nude’ and my dear friend Annette popping over ‘el-astral-spirit’, (Blog no.4 Put a shirt on!) we have decided to try to be a little more serious about our grasp on astral travel.

As total novices we can only put ourselves forward and ask spirit to help and guide us,and most importantly we must learn to TRUST.  What a massive impact that word can have.  To know that your spirit, the most important ‘bit’ of you, is off somewhere without the physical ‘bit’ of you, is actually quite daunting.  We have to trust that our spirit is in safe hands and will return to our physical bodies in tact.  Although I try to make light of it (pardon the pun), it is quite mind-blowing and very hard to truly accept without real confirmation and masses and masses of evidence too.

Well, to get back to our experiments.  Since we decided that we would all make a pact to ask to travel every night,  we have had a few interesting adventures to date and I felt we should start to document them before we forget.

Firstly, Annette ‘travelled’ to Kay’s house in the middle of the night!  What was so wonderful about this was that in her earthly physical life Annette had never been to ‘Kay’s house, but she could describe not only Kay’s bedroom, but also her cat, who happened to be curled up on the bed at the time!! She could also see a large ‘see through’ egyptian type cat hovering over her. Quite a result.  BUT, it actually gets better.  On the very same night, at virtually the same time, Kay was aware of her (Kay)  being her spirit, hovering over her bed and looking down at herself asleep.    Now, with that, Kay’s physical body woke up and she jumped out of bed.  If you knew Kay as I do, you would appreciate just how unusual that would be as Kay doesn’t tend to jump around too quickly these days!.

So, we were chatting about this a few days later and we were talking about NDE’s (near death experiences), and how some consultants are so interested in trying to clarify the information from their patients that they have taken to putting messages or objects out of normal vision.  Amazingly, there have been instances of NDE’s being able to give vital evidence of these very messages and objects.  We realised we could try this too.

Annette and I agreed to place a word each above our beds and see if we could visit in the night and see them.  The next day we were chatting online and Annette was telling me how she felt she had met my guide, Minyon, the previous night. She told me  how he had visited her and she had known who he was.  I was surprised as I had no recollection of going anywhere and to be honest would have hoped that he would have taken me along with him. She then told me about her travelling to my home and could describe me asleep in my bed and which way I was facing, where my hands were etc, which was all totally correct.

Anyway, we carried on chatting, and Annette asked rather casually if I had any idea about the word over her bed.  As soon as she asked I was shown a piece of paper with the word Angel written on it.  I almost dismissed it as pure conjecture, but it was so clear and I was seeing it just as I ‘see’  information from spirit when I am communicating with them.  I half heartedly wrote the word Angel, not expecting much of a response.  I couldn’t believe it when Annette wrote back, ‘LOl LOL LOL Well done YOU!!!! I’ll have to change it now’   I wrote back, ‘ lol … yeah right’, wondering if Annette was pulling my leg, but she wrote back ‘Honest to God, that’s correct, cross my heart’.  We were both in total shock! I checked how many words there are in the English language and there are approximately 171,476 words in current use,  so I had quite a choice!

I should explain here that Annette has been involved with spiritualism since she was four years old and has the deepest respect for spirit.  She is a spiritual teacher and a wonderful natural-born medium and takes her dealings with them very seriously, so I KNOW totally that I can trust her.

Well, after the shock effect had worn off a little I wondered how I knew the word.  Did Minyon go a-visiting and then tell me the word himself, or, did I go astral travelling myself, but had no actual conscious memory of it?

Annette and I do know that spirit tend to eavesdrop on our conversations.  We have had so many instances of ‘coincidences’ after our chats that we have now accepted that they are listening in and they often give us evidence of this within a day or two.  It has been quite amazing the number of times this has happened, especially, strangely enough, when we have been discussing or questioning spiritual ideas on the phone.  Do spirits somehow use our telecommunication systems?

Or, do our guides chat amongst themselves and give us the information? As communication with spirit is literally just a thought, then are they automatically aware of our thoughts and so our guides can just convey these between themselves?  Goodness, my mind could go into warp mode trying to work this one out!

Hmmmm…. I think I might suggest that someone else, totally unrelated to us, places an object or a word up high somewhere, so that neither of us is consciously aware of it.  That could certainly throw a spanner into the works!

In the meantime we decided on adding another ingredient or two into our experiment.  We have asked Annette’s guides to visit me so that I can describe them to her (currently I have no idea what they look like), and I have given Minyon a distinct message to give to Annette.  We are waiting to see what happens.  As they say ….Watch this space!

13) Everlasting Love

Love

I have been asked many times about the love we share with our partners, whether we are formally married or sharing our life with someone we love. The question that invariably comes up is this:  how,  if you love someone so very much,  can you manage to love someone else after they die?

This is something I often thought about,  having known several people who had obviously loved their husbands or wives, but had then successfully managed to find love with someone else.  Maybe they enjoyed such a wonderful relationship with their first partner that they hope to experience the same again.  There are of course also those who sadly never love anyone again.  This could be for many reasons.  Maybe they feel that they would be unable to risk losing someone they love all over again, and aren’t prepared to put themselves in the position of going through that pain once more.  Or, do they feel that their love was so strong it is irreplaceable?  Or might it be that they feel they would be being unfaithful to their past love?  This final thought is most probably the question I have been asked the most.  Would their partner in spirit feel they were being betrayed if they went on to love another?

When I was up in Scotland quite a few years ago, I was communicating with the husband, in spirit, of a woman who was distraught because she missed him so much.  She felt that it was wrong that she could ever be happy again without him.  She was concerned that he would feel that she hadn’t really loved him if she ever found love again.  I could feel the warmth of her husband coming through as he spoke to me.  He loved his wife very much and it pained him considerably to see her so lonely and unhappy.  He wanted her to be able to feel love once more.  I tried to convey this to her, but I really wasn’t sure that she believed me.

When I was back home, as I was washing up after dinner,  I heard his distinctive Scottish accent.  He asked me to send a poem he had written to his wife.  I was most surprised as I had never had such a request before.  This is exactly as he said:

Two hearts searching and look what we found, a love that is forever, that nothing can impound

You know I always loved you, you were the only girl for me, we shared our life on earth and shall be together, eternally

I hear your thoughts, I see your tears, I am concerned at your pain, but please know my darling, we will be together again

I shall look over you and gradually see your hurt subside, as the months turn into years, please know I’ll still be at your side

You still have a life to lead, and this I understand, you have to make your own choices and make your own plans

I love you so very much but I want you to feel free, and I know that you’ll never forget me as I live on in your memory

You will not stop loving me, I know that in my heart, but you may find someone to comfort you whilst we are apart

My dearest wish is your happiness whilst you live out your life, you may even marry again and become another’s wife

I give you my blessings for a life full of love, whilst I watch over you with joy from above

Knowing that you love me keeps my spirit alive, knowing that you are loved should help you to thrive.

I sent it to his wife who replied to me.  She said it was exactly as he would have put it and she felt for the first time since he’d  died that she could be free of guilt and able to move on and find happiness in her life.

To me, the poem from this man to his wife showed the deepest form of pure unselfish love.  Surely we all hope that our loved ones are happy and fulfilled.

The poem remained in my files for a long time until recently, one morning,  I suddenly felt that I should read it once more.

That very evening I was out with my husband and happened to be in close proximity to a couple of women who were talking.  I couldn’t help but overhear that one of them had recently been widowed, she spoke about going to see a stage medium but not receiving a message,  and it was obvious she was very unhappy.  I knew her husband’s spirit was with her right there at that very moment. Without even thinking about it I found myself explaining to her that I was a medium and telling her that her husband was beside her.  I could sense that he wanted me to give her a copy of the poem as it exactly conveyed his sentiments.  I asked for her phone number and I said I would call her.

I was, funnily enough, washing up the next evening and saw a vision of a man driving a lorry. I knew instinctively it was the lady’s husband.  He was urging me to phone her. Try as I might I couldn’t glean any more information from him and I was sure that he hadn’t communicated with a medium before.  As I went to ring her I faintly heard the name Natalie. I rang the lady and asked if her husband had been a lorry driver and she confirmed that he had.  I asked if she had an email address so that I could email the poem to her.  She said she didn’t, but she passed me to her daughter in law who gave me her email address, Natalie ………@yahoo.co.uk!  To me her name was further confirmation of  just  how important it was that I send the words.  I do hope that they helped her come to terms with the possibility of moving forward in her life and allowing herself to find love and happiness once again.

Isn’t it just amazing how spirit work?   How wonderful that I was inspired to read that poem that particular morning and then that I met that lady that same night?  It is often said that spiritual communications are based on pure love and the more I have experienced, the more I know that love continues and is everlasting.

If you feel that these words may help someone who feels the same about betraying a loved one in spirit, please feel free to copy it and send it with my blessing.

.

10) Watch your thumbs!

the dark alley

Having spent so much of my life aware of spirits, and also coming from a family where it seemed quite ‘normal’ for my parents to have regular conversations with relatives in spirit, you’d have thought that in my early forties I would have already accepted everything I believed to be true.

My problem was that although I had certainly had many many experiences that I thought were either directly with spirit, or spiritually based, I had not been given what I considered irrefutable evidence that it was all true.

I had often wondered how I might be able to actually ask for a message from spirit, and equally, how would I be able to ask not to see or feel them around me.  It wasn’t until a very dear friend of mine had passed into spirit that I actually decided to take the bull by the horns and try to educate myself.  I was always a little scared of spirit.  Well, no, to be really truthful, I was more than a little scared, at times I was terrified.  I would walk around my house at night just continually saying to whoever was there, please don’t let me see you, please don’t let me see you.

If I had had my first encounter with spirit when I was a little older I wonder if I might have been more prepared, but as it was, although I can’t remember the exact age I became aware, I do know I was under seven years old when I noticed a spirit lady in our house.  I was so frightened that I would not go into the house unless someone was with me.

It was normally in times of great stress or worry that I would start seeing pictures in my head, just like a video, or I would feel the presence of someone very close to me, and sometimes, but not often, actually hear them speaking to me.  Over the years I had tried to ask to hear from people I had loved and lost, but had never had even an inkling that anything was happening.  Then, when I would least expect it, for argument’s sake, walking into a friend’s house, I would immediately be aware of a spirit wishing to communicate.

On many occasions I would even have games with those I would call my invisible friends.  I remember as a young girl, I was always aware of someone, or sometimes even many, of these friends with me.  When I was maybe only about nine or ten,  I was walking to school and in my head I was questioning them.  I was asking if they were real and if they were how could they prove it.  I remember, something like a film playing behind my eyes and  being shown a bright yellow car.  Within seconds the exact car came over the bridge I was walking towards.  There was no way I could have seen over the bridge to see the car first. I stopped, and tested them again. I asked what colour the next car would be and was shown a blue Cortina.  Sure enough the next car along was the blue Cortina.  I was told the next car would be a red estate, and of course it was. I was so chuffed, and then, in my odd way, became quite concerned that they were real!  They couldn’t win!

My Mum used to go to spiritualist churches when I was growing up, but I never wanted to go with her.  In fact, I don’t think I liked the idea too much.  The more my parents spoke about spiritual matters, the more I tended to shut down.  It was just  that I preferred not to acknowledge what I knew to be real, and as if by ignoring it, somehow, it would all go away. Then when I left home and eventually married I was too busy to think about spirit too much.  I had the occasional knowing about something, or intuition, but these were generally just fleeting moments.  Even after so many years I still wondered whether I just had a vivid imagination or was it all wishful thinking.

During my thirties more and more spiritual experiences were happening to me, but being the busy woman I was, I didn’t have time to pay it too much attention.  However, when my friend had died, I suddenly felt a real pull towards everything spiritual. It was as if a switch had been turned on.

The first time I went to find my local spiritualist church was quite odd.  It was up a little alleyway off a busy shopping area.  I had been shopping there many times before but I had never walked up the alley.  The church looked dark and imposing and I wondered whether I could pluck up the courage to go in.  I had no idea what to expect.  I didn’t even know  what a spiritualist service would be like.  As I walked closer towards the church my legs were like jelly and I felt faint.  It was so strange because I had a deep knowing that my life was going to change, but typically, tried to brush those thoughts aside.  I read the notices and saw when the next service would be, which was that evening.  I knew where it was and at what time, but now had to try to tell my family where I would be going.  I was sure they would not be impressed.  How right I was.  My husband thought I had lost my mind and my daughter was horrified.  She was convinced it was a cult and that I would be unable to dis-entangle myself from their steely grip!

I stood my ground and went to my first service, which I have to say was a little of a disappointment.  I don’t know what I expected, but it was all rather conservative and the medium giving the messages looked very normal.  None of the messages were for me, and I did think at the time that it was all a bit general.  All in all though it was a nice evening and everyone was very welcoming.  I read the board inside the church and it listed an open circle for the following Friday.  I knew that my Mum used to attend a circle, and that was where she had met her guide Topsy.  I was still a little afraid, but even then, somehow knew that I should attend.

The following Friday I was trying to act very blase with my family about the open circle.  Inside though I was deeply worried about what I was getting into. The circle was held in a room in the basement of the church.  Immediately on opening the door the smell of damp was overwhelming.  Even though it was a warm summers evening the room was ice-cold and the chairs we had to sit on felt wet from the damp.  There was only a small window up high which let in a little light, but this was quickly covered by a blind and we had only a small candle on a low table in the middle of the circle.  I was quite apprehensive at this point!

The President of the church opened the circle with a prayer and told us to sit comfortably (which was very difficult on those chairs), to close our eyes, un-cross our arms and legs and to sit with our left thumb over our right thumb. It was explained that spirit would not talk to us if we did not sit as instructed!! It was all extremely odd to me.  I nearly jumped out of my skin when after a few moments quiet a deep voice boomed out ‘Good evening friends’.  I opened my eyes just a little and saw that it was the President who was talking.  How very strange I thought, this tiny little lady with this deep resonating voice!

We were instructed to meditate (I had no idea how) and to ask our spirit guides and helpers to come close.  I just sat with my eyes closed and was desperately trying not to think how cold and damp I felt, how uncomfortable the chair was to sit on, and how spooky I felt the whole event was.  Much to my surprise I suddenly felt a pressure on my right cheek, it started quite gently but soon became quite intense, and then it was almost unbearable.  At the same time I began to see what seemed to be a video in my mind, a beautiful native american man was riding towards me on a black stallion.  I absolutely knew he was my guide. Before I knew it I was being lifted onto the horse (surprising as I am scared stiff of horses!) and with my arms around the native american’s waist, we were off galloping through the most beautiful scenery until we came to the edge of a cliff, we looked around and then we flew over the sea.  I could feel the wind on my face and the warmth of the sun on me.  It was magical.  The booming voice broke through and we were told to ask spirit for a communicator.  I didn’t want to do that as I had just met my beautiful guide and wanted to stay with him, but I knew that I must, it was unsaid but understood, that I would ride with him many more times over the years and before he left he introduced himself to me as Minyon.

Everything in my mind went blank and I felt a wave of disappointment as I felt I had let Minyon go, to be left with a void.  Then I felt someone touch my arm, it was so real I opened my eyes, but no-one was beside me.  Pictures started coming into my mind, a man in an army uniform who told me he name was Edwin, but said that everyone called him Eddie.  He showed me vast kitchens that he worked in and told me to tell ‘her’ to remember dancing at Blackpool Tower.  I was stunned.  I had never expected anything like that.  I was looking at the pictures in my mind when the Presidents voice, very loudly, told us it was time to come back into the room.

I sat there as she went around the circle asking each in turn what they had seen, heard or felt in their meditations and whether anyone had received spiritual communication.  I listened intently but the most anyone saw was an ironing board, which they said was that someone had problems that needed ironing out, and a rainbow over someones head.  I didn’t know what to say when my turn came.  I told them about the wonderful ride on the horse and even then wondered whether to mention the man in the army uniform.  I was worried that I would look like an absolute fool.

Somehow though I was compelled to say exactly what I had seen, as if I had no choice!  I started to tell them and you could have heard a pin drop in the room.  When I said his name, and his nickname, a woman sitting along from me gasped and I honestly thought she was going to fall off her chair.  ‘Oh my God, Oh my God’ she kept saying, ‘that’s my husband, oh my God’.  By now my heart was pounding so hard in my chest I am sure the whole room must have heard it. She showed me a picture she had of him and he was exactly the man I had just seen.

To say I was amazed is the understatement of the year.  I felt like jumping up and down, I was so excited.  Suddenly, just like that, I had absolute proof that it was real. I hadn’t been imagining everything all my life.  I had always wondered if my intuition, which I had relied on so much over the years, had just been a series of lucky guesses.  It wasn’t wishful thinking. Everything changed that night.  I no longer believed in spirit.  I absolutely knew that spirit is alive. I wanted to jump up on rooftops and tell the world. There is life after death! I have proof!

What I didn’t take away from the evening though were the odd sitting rules.  I have been chatting quite happily to spirit since I was a child, and not once did they say “We’re not going to talk to you – your thumbs are in the wrong place!”

8) Life’s Lessons

Graduation

Several years ago I had been through the most difficult year of my life.  My Mum, my brother and my Dad were all taken to spirit within weeks of each other and I felt my heart was breaking.  At the same time, as well as dealing with my own personal losses, there was so much negativity everywhere.

With the rest of the world I watched in horror as the events unfolded on 9/11  and I felt so useless, as if there was absolutely nothing I could do to help, even in a small way, to make the world a better place. I felt desolate.

Every time I put the television or radio on there was more depressing news.  I have never understood how people could be so cruel to one another, or use their own greed to take from the needy.  There seemed to be an avalanche of distressing events on a global scale.

I sat in the quiet and asked my guides how this could happen.  How could so many people be in such distress?  Why were children dying of starvation? Why were so many countries at war?  I was questioning my faith in God or the Higher Powers.  I felt so sad in my heart and was desperate for answers. I wanted someone to shout that it was all a mistake, that everything would be put right.

I felt my writing guide come in close.  I have learnt that a light stroke of my hair on the back of my head is the unmistakable nudge to find a piece of paper and a pen and just to listen and write what I hear, nothing more.

This is what I received.

Life’s Lessons.

If life were as kind as we thought it should be,

there’d be no worries or woes, everything would be trouble-free.

There would always be sunshine and only rain at night,

there’d be no storms to wreak havoc, we’d never witness nature’s might.

Every child would be born perfectly healthy and strong,

There’d be no need to teach right from wrong.

There would be no famines and certainly no wars,

Every country in harmony with its neighbour next door.

No violence, no terror, there would be no need,

no-one would be selfish or suffer from greed.

But in reality, this just isn’t so,

we all need life’s lessons to help us to grow.

To overcome difficulties, to rise above pain,

we need challenges and dreams, it’s from those that we gain.

Whenever I find myself questioning the unfairness of situations that the innocent find themselves in, the terrible traumatic events that so many have to go through, the heartbreak and tragic losses people experience, I read this and try to understand.  It is not easy.  It takes a lot for me to look at the bigger picture and try to accept that our souls have to move forward through these dreadful lessons of life.  I hope that one day we will find an easier way.

5) Come and get me …..

A Black Cat Crosses My Path Every Day

Image by aturkus via Flickr

I have loved animals all my life, well, that is, apart from spiders, which tend to freak me out a little, but I am happy to catch them and put them back outside and must admit I have squashed the occasional wasp … sorry God … just can’t cope with them at all.

So, where was I? Oh yes, me and animals.  Ever since I can remember I have been surrounded by various pets.  My parents had an Alsatian when I was very young, Bruce, who I gather adored my twin sister and I because we would sit in our high chairs and call him ‘Fru’ (we couldn’t pronounce Bruce) and feed him anything that we didn’t like.  As an animal loving family we went on to have a collection of cats, dogs, rabbits, hamsters, guinea pigs, gerbils, tortoises, goldfish, tame hedgehogs and even a salamander.

When I first married at 22 I was feeling quite lost with no pets around me.  My twin had decided that she wanted a kitten and I knew she was going to look at a litter.  What I didn’t know was that she couldn’t bear to leave without the last kitten and arrived on my doorstep with a little black bundle of fluff with the biggest green eyes I’d ever seen.  Babs had arrived.  Her mother was Burmese, and her father was a moggie, but Babs didn’t like to even think about that, she looked and behaved like a full Burmese, which meant she felt she was far superior to any of the other cats in the neighbourhood.

She was never what you would call a cuddly kitten.  She would sit on your lap for a couple of minutes and then be off climbing.  I say climbing because that was one of her favourite past-times.  She would climb up the walls hanging onto the wallpaper, climb up the curtains and sit at the very top and then fly across the room and land on a top shelf, then spring off again and she’d be balancing on the top of the open door.  I had never known a cat like it.  We lived in a bed sit, so our bedroom was in our sitting room, or if you like, our lounge included a bed, whichever way you want to look at it – it was a small space and we had to share it with Babs.  In the middle of the night she sidled under the covers and took great delight in sharpening her claws on our unsuspecting feet or legs.  She was the wildest of cats.  She grew ever more wild as the months went on, to the point where she would sit in wait on our garden wall for the neighbour to come out into her garden and then leap off the wall and attack her.    For no apparent reason she would have violent outbursts attacking everyone and everything in sight. I was at my wit’s end.  I was covered in scratches and bites, everything in the flat was scratched and chewed.  She even hissed at me when I arrived home from work and would walk sideways growling, which is pretty scary!

I managed to get her into a wicker basket, and with her hissing and growling all the time we were on the bus, I took her to the vets to ask his advise.  I had always thought that if you treated an animal with love and affection they would respond lovingly, but Babs had taught me that she didn’t share that belief.  The vet tried to examine her.  I had warned him that she could be quite vicious but he assured me, in a very condescending manner, that with his vast experience he knew how to cope with any cat. By the time he had managed to get Babs back in the basket he had been bitten and scratched many times.  Babs had won.  He shook his head in disbelief and without any tact whatsoever, told me, that in his opinion there was nothing to be done except to have her put to sleep.  I looked into her beautiful green eyes and knew I just couldn’t agree to that and implored the vet to give me any other possible solutions.  He wearily muttered something about how some cats can calm down a little after they have had a litter of kittens.  Well that was obviously the answer, I thought, delighted that I had the ultimate excuse to have kittens around me for at least 8 weeks!

Babs duly complied and in a short space of time it was very obvious that she was pregnant.  She had always been very slim and now she had a very large tummy which we could actually see moving as her kittens were stretching and vying for position inside her.  Her tempestuous nature though hadn’t changed one jot, except as her pregnancy went on she did give up the climbing and leaping.  I was beginning to wonder if I had made the right decision.

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, Babs went into labour.  I had been to the library and read all about kitten births and had everything at the ready, although everyone told me that she would be very independent and would most probably prefer me to just leave her alone.  I had made a kittening area in the corner of the bed sit, and was chuffed when Babs decided it was the perfect place to give birth.  I put on gentle music and soft lighting so that it could be a relaxing environment for her.

I went over and stroked her and spoke gently to her, telling her everything would be fine.  The contractions became stronger and I thought I should now leave her to it.  As I walked away she got up and followed me, so I went back to the corner and sat with her again, comforting her.  I could see that a kitten was due any second and really thought it was time for me to leave her, again, as I got up to leave she got up to be with me. OK,  I said, and I laid down beside her, and stroked her all the way through her first kitten being born.  Instinctively she knew exactly what she should do and within a short time the tiny little kitten was hooked on to one of Babs teats.  About ten minutes went by and contractions started again and another kitten was born.  I stayed with Babs the whole time, speaking softly to her, assuring her as best I could.  After just over an hour had passed she had given birth to six beautiful kittens.  I cleared up the area and gave her new soft towels to lay on.  What I had realised was how gentle she had been with me through the birthing and hoped it would continue.

From that day onwards our relationship changed dramatically.  She became the most wonderful cat I could wish for.  I became quite ill and had to undergo several operations, and she would sit beside me all day until the family came home. As I managed to walk a little further each day she would walk beside me.  Neighbours would comment that whatever time I came home from work, which could vary greatly day-to-day, Babs would wander up to the gate about five minutes before and be waiting for me.  She talked incessantly and would be telling me all about her day as we walked together along the path to the front door.  It sounds mad I know, but she would really be trying to talk to me, I could feel it.

Although she was great with me she still was not good at the vets, so much so that the vet would only examine her or give her  annual vaccinations if she had been tranquilized.  We did this for many years and for some reason I always felt like I was letting her down.  On one particular occasion she was due to have her pre-vet medication and as I was about to crush the tablets into her food I was sure I heard her thoughts.  She told me that she hated the feeling of being tranquilized and promised she would be very good at the vets.  I held her face in my hands and looked deep into her eyes, “ok” I said,” I’ll trust you, but you have to be on your best behaviour.”  If anyone had heard me they would have thought I’d gone mad.

The vets face was a picture of concern as the realisation dawned on him that Babs was not sedated in the slightest.  I took her out of her basket and put her on his examining table.  I told him that she said she would be good as gold.  He gave me a ‘that woman is crazy’  kind of look but was surprised how well behaved she was.  She was looking straight at me as he put the needle in the back of her neck.  I heard her say, by what I can only think was some kind of thought transference, see I told you I’d be good!

I was working but always had Mondays off work to do the washing/ironing, shopping etc.  This particular Monday had started off quite normally.  My husband went to work just after 8am and I took my daughter to school just before 9am.  I popped into the shops on the way home. I remember it was a lovely sunny late summers day.  We had moved into a brand new house in the January and hadn’t met many of the neighbours at all.  It seemed to me that every morning there was a mass exodus as everyone went to work, and the only time many people were around was on the weekend.

As I opened the front door  a feeling of utter doom came over me.  I started crying and as I walked into the kitchen I looked at Babs bowls and I remember hearing her say ‘come and get me’.  I knew she was dead.  I was howling.  I phoned my Dad and sobbed down the phone to him that Babs was dead.  He asked what had happened and I told him I didn’t know.  I said I didn’t know where she was but that I knew she was dead. My Dad tried to calm me down and told me that she was most probably fine.  He asked if I had called her and I said no, I knew there was no point.  I told Dad that I would go and find her and would phone him back.  I phoned my husband and told him too and I am sure he thought I had gone mad. He too told me to go looking for her and he thought she might have been locked in a garage or shed somewhere.  It was so difficult to explain to them that I knew absolutely that she was dead.  There was no point in looking for her in the garage.

I picked up a shopping basket and walked aimlessly down the road, looking at all the empty drives by the houses.  Eventually I saw a house with a car on the drive and knocked on the door, as it happened I had met the woman who answered and she could see I was very distressed.  I asked her if she would come with me and look for my cat.  She kindly agreed and I instinctively knew where to go.  We walked along the road, quite a way, we turned left, past more houses and finally I walked up a bank onto a single railway track.  Babs was lying on the track.  She had been hit by a train. I couldn’t bear to pick her up and had to ask the site manager if he could go and get her for me.  I phoned my Dad and told him straight away.  He asked me how I had known and I tried to explain.  Dad was always aware of spirits through his life and he said he thought it was because Babs and I had such a strong bond.  I phoned my husband and he was just stunned.  He came home from work straight away.  I felt desolate.

For many months afterwards I was aware of Babs walking up the bed and even now, many many years later, I am sure I see her momentarily.  She was one very special cat and I shall never forget her.

4) Put a shirt on!

Pleiades Star Cluster

Image via Wikipedia

I have often wondered about the ‘dreams’ or what I prefer to call ‘visits’ that I’ve had for over 40 years now.  In my sleep state I have often spent time with relatives and friends who have passed to spirit.  Sometimes we just sit and chat and at other times we sing and dance, or my favourite, we fly, plane free, over the most beautiful countryside, over the sea or even up into the darkness of the universe, the wind rushing past us as we effortlessly fly past shining stars.  There are two  main differences I have noticed between these experiences and ‘dreams’ .  Firstly I remember that I am aware that they have passed from this physical life, in fact we often discuss it at the time, and secondly,  I have vivid recollections of these’ visits’ and years and years later I can still remember every moment of them.

A couple of weeks ago my good friend Kay loaned me a wonderful thought-provoking book. It was the kind of book I just couldn’t put down, it just made me think so much.  One of the chapters was about astral travel, something I admit I have never really been interested in, but the book was so good I thought I might as well read it.  I was stunned to find similar  examples of my own ‘dream/visit’ experiences and was really excited to read that you could actually ask spirit to travel to you before you fell asleep at night.  So all tucked up, next to my unsuspecting, sceptical husband Simon, I said my usual prayers and then remembered to ask my spirit family to travel to visit me.  I didn’t even think to mention it to Simon.

At three in the morning I was awoken by Simon literally leaping out of bed, racing round the bed to the bedroom door and putting the main light on.  I was shocked!  I asked what he was doing.  He told me that I had been in the doorway and I couldn’t see because it was dark so he had to put the light on.  I laughed and told him I’d been asleep and told him to come back to bed. I didn’t even think about the request I’d put in with spirit a few hours earlier.

The next evening I went to my regular development circle run by my friend Annette.  She was standing outside with other members of the circle as I arrived.  She was obviously excited and couldn’t wait to talk to me.  She told me that she had been aware of being in my house in the middle of the night! Then she went on to tell me  that she had seen Simon (with no clothes on!) and had told him to put a shirt on.  She said that there had been quite a gathering and she had wondered why she was there.  I was stunned and couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing.  I was covered in goose bumps, which I call truth bumps, which for me are always a sign of a spiritual truth. Her face was an absolute picture as I then told her what had happened in the night and especially when I told that I had specifically asked for my spirit family to visit that night.  She was struggling to come to terms with what had appeared to have happened.  We were both just so amazed.

I couldn’t wait to get home to tell Simon.   In his typical sceptical way he said it must have been a coincidence.  I asked him how many times in his lifetime he had jumped out of bed and put the main light on.  He admitted he never had before.

A few days later Annette was discussing the events of that night with a good spiritual friend of hers and said she had been wondering why on earth she would have been in my house that night. She told her friend that I had asked for my spiritual family to visit and her friend told her that it make perfect sense as she is most probably a member of my soul group.  When Annette told me I was again covered in my truth bumps, the explanation made so much sense to me.

Annette decided it would be a great idea to set up an astral travel experiment and Kay agreed.  Now every night before we go to sleep, all three of us ask if we can astral travel together.  Kay really fancies popping off to Hawaii, a place she visited and loved on holiday.  Every morning we contact each other and compare notes.  So far, not one of us has any recollections of travelling anywhere, but there is still that wonderful anticipation  every night that we could all end up in our hula skirts on a sun-kissed beach!

3) Puzzling?

Over the years I have attended countless awareness groups, workshops, lectures and circles in my quest to perfect my link with spirit.

My ideal  link would be in the manner of a telephone call … “Hello, may I ask whose calling?”  would be my opening line and I would hope for a response that would be along the lines of “Hello,  I am Bobs sister, my name is Hayley Brown, I was 23 years old when I passed to spirit on 18th October 1996, I had been in a car accident whilst on holiday in Majorca, I was 5′ 6″, very slim, very short blonde hair, green eyes, I loved to snorkel and played a guitar, my Mother was Ivy and she is here with me now.”

Wouldn’t that be wonderful, to receive such clarity, such overwhelming evidence from spirit, just like that?  Within a few moments you could pretty much guarantee that the information would be accepted.  But, for me at least, it’s not like that, I have to use so many different senses to extract as much information as possible.

I never know if  my first impression will be hearing, seeing, knowing, sensing or even smelling or a mixture of any of these. I am rarely told or shown who the recipient is either. The information I receive doesn’t seem to follow any set pattern, so for one link I may be shown a map and then it will zoom in to an area or even a town, another time the first thing I may notice is a wonderful smell of coffee or a favourite perfume.

On one particular occasion whilst demonstrating to a small group I had nothing except the song Forever and Ever being played over and over in my head, and not knowing who had sung it, or even the title of the song, I had no option but to impress my audience with a very poor rendition of Demiss Roussos.   They say that laughter lifts the energy and there was certainly a lot of laughter after that!  Thankfully the song meant an enormous amount to a lady and along with other evidence that I could give her she was very happy that her Mum was with us in spirit that evening.

Worse still was when all I felt was the way someone danced.  Imagine the embarrassment of having to stand up in front of people and start dancing in a very peculiar manner, hoping that someone would (very quickly) recognise who was coming through.  Thankfully someone accepted this straight away.

No matter what I try to do, it is as if I have to give out that first piece of information before I am ‘fed’ the next piece of the puzzle. If I try to ignore the first impression I just get stuck and can rarely go any further with the reading, so I have to say or show what I am impressed with before the next piece arrives which will invariably be something totally different, using various senses and so on.

Teachers have advised me to always ask for certain pieces of information, the relationship to the recipient for example, but even when I ask I am then impressed with something totally different, which could be a picture of an old blue car, a smell of burning rubber or all I will feel is that this spirit loved to cycle everywhere!

So, why does this happen? Why is there not a set of rules that spirit is aware of, that they could all adhere to? Why make life so tricky for us who are trying to work with spirit? It seems to me that everyone I meet works in a different way with their guides, helpers or loved ones, in fact whoever is helping them, spirit-side, with their ongoing development of their relationship with spirit.

A standard spiritual curriculum would be jolly handy.  As in our academic schools, whichever school a child attends, the parents know that the teaching method will be pretty much the same, the syllabus will be followed.  If we are taught to bake a cake we all know that there is a customary set of ingredients and a well-tried and tested recipe for what you do to achieve the best results.

So for me, for the time being, I just try to gather all the pieces of the puzzle, by whichever method is available to me at the time, and with my fingers firmly crossed, hope that someone (anyone!) can take the information and will understand.

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