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!”

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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.

6) Man in the mirror

Has this ever happened to anyone else?????

I was having a shower this morning, not thinking about anything spiritual at all, in fact, I think I was more considering what I was going to cook for lunch.  The glass shower door had steamed over, and I hate that kind of hemmed in feeling when you can’t see out.  I should explain here that the shower cubicle is across the bathroom from the basin.

I wiped the steam of the door and could see myself in the mirror above the basin, but …. then something very strange happened …………….. I was not looking at me, with my blonde hair and blue eyes ……….. my short blonde hair had been replaced by long dark hair and I was looking into the dark brown eyes of my native American guide “Minyon”.

I first ‘met’ Minyon in a meditation in about 1999.  I went for a physic art/reading with the wonderful Patrick Gamble down in Devon a few years later and he painted my guide.  I was delighted as the painting was my absolute confirmation as Minyon looked exactly as he always had shown himself to me.

So, back to this morning.  I was stunned.  The shower door steamed over once more and I was almost afraid to wipe it clear, but just had to see if I had been imagining the vision.  I wiped my hand over the glass and slowly lifted my gaze to where I could see in the mirror.  Minyon was looking straight back at me!!! I just stood there, dripping wet, incredulous, looking into his beautiful kind eyes.  He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move.

Alone in the house, I knew there was no-one to call. I had to be brave and come out of the shower.  I avoided looking in the mirror until I was dry and in my dressing gown.  I plucked up all my courage and went and stood in front of the mirror and looked up.  It was just me looking back.  I must have stood there for five minutes or so, and nothing changed, still me.

Thinking about it, in July I was talking to the very lovely Dr Jones (a spirit doctor who comes through Quintin Smith to perform the most amazing spiritual healing).  I was telling him how spooked I am at seeing spirits.  How I walk around the house at night sending my thoughts out that I don’t want to see anything. Dr Jones thought it was quite funny that I don’t mind talking to spirit or seeing spirit in my mind, but that I am totally freaked by an actual spirit appearing right in front of me.  (They used to when I was little – that’s why I think I’m so wary now).  Anyway, Dr Jones, said he would have a word with my guides and ask them to introduce me to seeing spirit again in a gentle way, so that I wouldn’t be afraid and eventually I would welcome seeing them.

So now I am wondering if that’s why Minyon appeared as he did this morning.  Amazingly I wasn’t running around the house screaming, and in a funny way, it almost seemed quite a natural event.

So, tomorrow when I have my shower, I shall actually be hoping that I see my man in the mirror.

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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