Enid Blyton pops by with some advice for humanity and helps PM Chamberlain in the process!

30 03 2010

After watching the iconic Lark Rise to Candleford on Sunday evening I flicked channels to discover a film about the legendary children’s writer Enid Blyton and sat glued to her life story, fascinated but surprised that it portrayed her as rather a hard hearted character as far as her own family were concerned, yet at the same time  writing prolifically about the ideal adventures of childhood.

As soon as the credits had rolled I felt a presence in the room and realised it was Miss Blyton herself, having passed safely after her death (she suffered from dementia for the latter 10 years of her life and this is not always the case when someone is not in their ‘right’ mind).

I did well did I not?” she asked me in her confident and forthright manner, but the lingering images of her poor emotionally starved children was still at the forefront of my mind, so I paused while she answered with deep honesty what was on my mind…. “I was passionate about my writing.  It gave me a thrill beyond all else!”  … At this juncture my son entered the room, interrupting the flow of our communication, as he asked if I was ‘ready for a trot round the block’ with our dog Sammy.  I needed the exercise and it was very late, so I grabbed my coat whilst continuing to give Enid my attention…

As we walked down the road I repeated her most recent words to myself, so that I could note them down on my return, and asked my son to memorise them for good measure:  “I was a stickler for work.  Nothing would entice me from my routine….I was a stickler for work.  Nothing would entice me from my routine….”  Fifteen minutes later I scribbled down her precious words as she continued: 

“Forbidden fruits!” 

” What were?  What do you mean?…

A man and his children…” (She was obviously referring to her attempts to embrace a family, which resulted in a divorce from her first husband and her seeming cold-heartedness towards her offspring)

“Could this have been the result of your relationship with your father?” I found myself asking, knowing from the film that she adored him as a child but he left his own family for another woman…

I was betrayed!” she cried.  “He was the only one in the world I ever loved and who cared for me passionately.  It all went topsy-turvy didn’t it?  Celebrate life while you can!” she implored the rest of us.  “It was all a bit hit and miss with me…”  At this stage my dowser suddenly flew into action as many earthbound spirits related to her or her way of life suddenly pushed at the door and I tried to catch some names.…’Uncle Arnold, Christopher, Penny, Sid, Prime Minister Chamberlain (who famously returned from Germany in 1938 waving a piece of paper….a signed treaty…which he declared meant Peace in our Time…..and now thanked me for ‘opening the door’ for him), someone by the name of Sullivan, a Hawthorn, a Waitrose, someone from Braintree, Dilys, Copper, Sable, the mention of ‘Wolverhampton’, Jennny….”All the folk I knew who came into my life and have now joined me in celebration of their continuation of life!”  There was much banter on the other side as ‘Roll out the Barrel….’ was sung by my now familiar spirit family of East Enders, but then they showed me a line up of Irish dancers!  (‘I don’t have any Irish connections do I?’ I asked myself and the answer came back ‘way back…you were a pauper’)

“Is there anything you can tell me that I couldn’t have picked up from the documentary?” I asked, always fishing for more ‘proof’, and no-one was more surprised by her answer than me:   

Chastity belt…I wore a chastity belt!” she laughed.  I tried to think quickly, asking her what she meant by that ambiguous statement…”I’m keeping my mouth shut!” she replied, and a whole bunch of women moved across with another swirling of my dowser…”A configuration of wise, knowledgeable, single women!” she guffawed.

Calcite crystals absorb earthbound spirits!

27 03 2010

If you were amazed to read that earthbound spirits could be directed into phials of water (recently in the News and discussed in my last blog) you will be interested to hear about three lumps of calcite crystal who have become my regular friends!  Over the past few years I have had many disturbed nights when lost souls have either been redirected to me (via my spiritual helpers) or have found their way to our house…Naturally, I have been feeling the effects of broken nights, even though I have managed on roughly two out of seven days restful sleep. 

In the meantime, I have been sleeping with yellow calcite, orange/red calcite and blue calcite crystals underneath my pillow to help my ‘crumbling’ bones (I bounced rather too enthusiastically on a neighbour’s trampolene last summer and my T9 collapsed in my spine, resulting in a diagnosis of osteoporosis).  As a Crystal Healing Practitioner I am aware that calcite is for ‘support’ in all areas – It is a mineral which releases electrical impulses when placed under pressure, as well as an energy amplifier.  Most importantly for my condition, it is a balancing agent for the assimilation of calcium within the whole body – so you can see why I chose three different coloured specimens as my sleeping companions! (My husband is very understanding)

As the crystals amplify the various colours of the human energy field (yellow would therefore work on the solar plexus, orange/red on the sacrum and physical base and blue on the throat or higher communication level) it makes sense that between my ‘Cheeky Boys’ they not only support and boost my energies with their individual electrical impulses but also absorb the spiritual energy fields of earthbound night-time visitors (who merge with my own energies) and hold them in a state of suspended animation (just as in the phials of Holy water) until I can release them (thoroughly refreshed) come morning.

(‘The Cheeky Boys’ was the hilarious name given by the crystals to me, once I realised they had become my little helpers, as it is possible to hear all spirit communication, whether it is human, animal, plant or mineral.  Most nature spirits have a wonderful sense of humour but they don’t take their responsibilities ‘lightly’!) 

In the ten consecutive days of uninterrupted sleep I have just experienced, between 5 and 30 a night totalling approximately 180 lost souls from various locations around the world have been helped to find their way home – and as I thanked The Cheeky Boys this morning their reply was that they were ‘selling life assurance’ to the departed…  What are they like?!

Glass phials containing the ghosts of an old man and a little girl?!

13 03 2010

13 March 2010

Awoke to a beautiful blue sky holding only two white vapour trails which had made a HUGE cross in the sky….Michael said ‘goodness me…listen to this story in The Week (newspaper) of today (‘It must be True I read it in the Tabloids’)  Unbelievably, the story was that an ‘exorcist’ had trapped the spirits of an old man and a little girl in glass phials….a firm bought them on the internet for £935 and ‘is now inviting suggestions as to what to do with them!’

Without further ado I tuned into what I saw as a ‘green phial and a red phial’ to check that this was not another hoax story and lo and behold an old man coughed and spluttered and  cried out to me:  (His name was Adolph or Rudolph)…”What is going on?”

Me: I tried to explain…

Adolph: (not listening)…” Kristof?…Where is Kristoff?” …and in 8 seconds flat he shot to the other side (marked by the rapid spin of my dowser which then stopped dead to register his safe arrival).  Allowing him time to settle back into the light I turned to the ‘red phial’.

A little girl (sure enough) named Annie emerged slowly from the water saying ‘they are so cruel and wicked!’ … and an uncle from the other side held out his arms to his neice (Horace or Bertram or both) and within seconds she had also arrived safely.  They turned to thank me “from the bottom of our hearts.” 

“Synchronicity!” came the message from the white cross in the sky.  (My books and my aims are currently coming to fruition as a possible publisher examines them).  I was now able to hear more news of the recently rested spirits:

“Adolph, dear old chap, was doing his best with his map reading…” (He had GOT LOST in the confusing world between heaven and earth) 

Adolph: “No trouble.  Not a nuisance,” he corrected his ‘ghost hunters’.  “I died in a fire in my barn…”

Me: “The lady who exorcised you..”

Adolph: (interrupting)…”Nuisance.  No idea what she was doing!”

Me:  “As she sent you into Holy Water she DID try!”

Adolph: “I’ll give her that.  Flush the others out!  They’re stuck in the plumbing!  Turn the taps on full and let them out!” (My dowser spins wildly for 27 seconds as he directs me to 92 others who needed releasing)

Me:  Is there anything else you wish to say?

Adolph:  “Good luck with everything!!!!”

Me to my white cross in the sky: “Any news of Annie?”

Answer: “Annie was no relative (of Adolph or the occupiers of the house)..but merely wandered in through their front door, left ajar.  She is now enjoying a reunion with her kin. It was her 7th birthday party…and catastrophic.  She ran out for ices from a van and was knocked over and killed instantly.  Balloons; party dress; now really celebrating, back home with Uncles; Pushing a dollies pram;  Drying her hair…(“that lady drownded me!”)  “Keep up the momentum!

My dowser flies again, releasing others trapped in glass phials….amounting to fifty or so….(“Good intentions; upside down.”)   By this it is meant that the ‘exorcist’ in her loving intentions kept these lost souls tied to the physical medium of the water (trapped in the phials)..the opposite result when they should have been travelling upwards via the loving waters of the spirit.

If you have been led to this blog for the first time please take a moment to read all the other stories of Spirit Rescue work which I have performed (a small taste of twelve years dedication to releasing millions of earthbound souls) and perhaps pass this on to those who have yet to understand the workings of the spirit – including their own and that of their loved ones.   ‘Onwards and Upwards’ as The Three Muskateers would say!


The phantoms of Arlington Court and Widecombe on the Moor!

12 03 2010

In the Summer of 2008, torrential rain all day sent hundreds of holidaymakers scuttling into the National Trust House of Arlington Court (between Lynton and Barnstaple in Devon) – including my husband and myself – and despite its grandness we were delighted to feel the House has a homely and happy feel to it.   Knowing nothing of its history works best for me, so we bypassed any Guide Books and just found our own ground.  The first room we came to was the opulent Morning Room and as I stood gazing out of the front-facing window and  into the stately grounds I took myself back to another time.  Strangely, I felt myself inhabiting the body of a heavyweight gent with double chins, who suffered from gout!  To my left (and his!) a young woman, elegant in a long crinoline gown, offered up a very pale wrist to me and I/He greeted her warmly….”Caroline!  Lady Caroline!”   In the next instance I was me again, feeling privileged to have shared a moment in another time, and whispered my experience to Michael…

He couldn’t resist asking the next National Trust volunteer we saw whether anyone of that name resided there.  She said this woman would have been the first owner of the House (and I went all weak at the knees!) and pointed out one portrait among many, who was the woman whose hand I had held in ‘my own’!  I scuttled off to find a quiet place to dowse, checking to check this lady was resting in peace – and found that she had stayed behind after her death and was in need of a ‘gentle hand’ upwards!  Following closely behind was Arthur (smoking a cigar in a vestibule off the main hall), Edward (a well dressed boy who ran in and out of the rooms and up and down the stairs in excitement!) plus a person who flung open a bedroom window and shouted ‘Mama!…We’re going to Paris Mama!’   Suddenly, the newly rested Caroline prostrated herself at my feet and begged me to help Sebastian (there was no need, I reassured her, as I willingly help trapped spirits)  As Sebastian took advantage of the portal of light and passed over I glimpsed a tall boy; the one who flung open the window -and Caroline said he was ‘a visitor, who came with Lupin in a carriage and that Rosemary was his mother’ – so if anyone knows the history of the House perhaps they could do some detective work!  I also came across a Dotty with a feather duster in the same bedroom.  After checking with Lady Caroline whether she knew of any others who needed a lift homewards she led me to Reginald (an under stairs butler) who said politely ‘thank you ma’am! – and as she waved her white handkerchief in gratitude,  another forty-two lost souls were swept from the surrounding area.  A satisfying day of Spirit Rescue, even if I was supposed to be having a holiday!

We stayed in a cottage at Widecombe on the Moor (also Devon) and, exhausted after a day of sight-seeing (and dodging the rainstorms!), we fell gratefully into freshly made beds with crisp white sheets.  Before I could sleep, however,  the phantom of an old woman with a pointed and crotchety face and wearing a ‘sleeping bonnet’ lay where I lay and wouldn’t goShe seemed to think I was in her bed! (the building dated to about 1600!) I gave up and groped for my dowser to persuade her to move over.  No words were exchanged between us, but thankfully a male relative called from the other side and she was off, leaving me the bed to myself!  Over the next few minutes others started to gather, so I suggested that they all assemble ‘so I can do you in one batch, Please!’  (I was so tired)  There was a Dusty Miller character in overalls and covered in flour, and a thin woman who stood back, understandably a little unsure at the ‘spectre’ of a 21st century stranger offering to help her!  I got interesting visuals; snippets of medeival domesticity; someone on a handsome horse, picking his wayalong a muddy lane.  He had a square insignia on his jacket filled in with horizontal and vertical lines to form a grid pattern, with small roundels on each corner.  He spoke one word: sounded like a French accent – ‘choose’.  Was he a General?  I heard ‘du pont’ and Waterloo and ‘scavengers; peasants; starving people begging’ around this horseman’s feet.  ‘ Invasion.  Foggy; weak sun.  Sunrise?  Birds like fieldfare; cowering villagers’….But all moved over safely – and peace at last as I fell into a deep sleep (11.30 pm). 

At 4.47, however,  I awoke suddenly, having been ‘clearing or healing the Landlady’s son’!  I was shown an oven glove with barbed wire across the centre of it, as if to say ‘too hot…don’t go there’ (meaning don’t mention anything to the Landlady?)…I awoke at 6.30 feeling as though I’d worked very very hard all night! 

Of course, I passed all this on to Michael who said ‘did you notice there are quite a few things to do with France in the house?’ (no, I hadn’t)  Michael told me ‘du pont’ means ‘of the bridge’ and it is also a surname.  He said two farmhouses were key locations throughout the Battle of Waterloo.  (Were they occupants of these farmhouses or locals who I had seen begging for provisions/mercy/food?)

I asked Michael about the French connection to this cottage and he said he saw a document on the wall of one of the rooms he peeped into on our way up to the room! At breakfast we noted a French/German dictionery and Michael felt they were well educated people.  (The Battle of Waterloo was Sunday 18th June 1815 in Belgium)  As we waved our goodbyes to the Landlady I couldn’t help but bring the conversation round to her family – and she said he had two sons, one of whom runs a restaurant! (the oven glove)  Of course, I said nothing of the shenanigans of the night!

Why does a person’s soul become trapped on earth as a ghost?

5 03 2010

Last summer Michael and I set off for a family wedding in a quintessentially English village church in Surrey. It was a beautiful day, only temporarily marred by a hold up enroute, a long delay on the M1 just before our turn-off.   Four lanes of traffic crawled past a motorway services where onlookers hung over the car park railings sipping their cool drinks.  After about 40 minutes we passed four fire engines and three ambulances standing silently at the scene of what had obviously been a tragic accident, a car roof having been cut away to get to the occupants of a smashed car, and the sight of personal belongings still strewn across the carriageway was heartwrenching. 

My throat and whole being suddenly burst asunder with emotion as I picked up on the anguish, despair and confusion of a young woman, obviously killed in the crash.  Her physical body now gone, her soul hovered above the scene – unsurprisingly lost in an agitated state, crying and wringing her hands – tragically stuck in that moment in time that had taken her and another family member’s lives so suddenly.

All in a second I grabbed my dowser to speak with her and calm her so that she could follow the correct escape route.   In the suddenness of her death her life had been sucked down the nightmarish plughole of fear and disbelief, caught like an insect trapped in a vortex of horror.  What I did was support her and hold her steady long enough for her spirit to be redirected up and into the pure white vortex of love and peace.  She was so grateful to find herself still alive in every sense of the word!

      “Mary, Mother of God!” she cried, as she realised what a wonderful world she had returned to.   A second person, who I only recognised as a lost and confused male, wandered in a dream-like state between this world and the next and was released in that same second.  

Two weeks later I received confirmation (from the other side) that this was indeed a little boy, child of the mother who now thanked me on both their behalfs, “from the bottom of our hearts!”  This story highlights the difference between a slow, expected death, which allows the soul to come to terms with the fact that they are leaving one plane of existence for another – passing automatically into a different, more highly evolved world, which in its joy has no comparison to ours! – and a death which is totally unexpected and cruelly snatches life as we know it from their physical bodies.

When a person loses their life in a sudden road crash or similar unexpected way they literally don’t know what has hit them and can wander about dazed and confused for days, weeks, months, years – or even an eternity!

Other causes of people’s spirits becoming trapped include being in a mentally confused state  such as inebriation, drug addiction, paranoia or extreme stress (and therefore unable to see the light calling them home) as well as consciously staying behind in the hope of effecting an outcome after their death (for example, guiding a relative to something they feel is important or exerting revenge upon someone).   From my twelve years research into and helping lost souls it has become apparent that three months is the limit of how long it is safe to linger (and sometimes it is necessary to take some time to come to terms with one’s death and arrive in the light in a calm and relaxed state) – after which someone like myself is needed to help you join your relatives, friends and past-life buddies all waiting for you back home! 

For more examples, please see my book ‘Ghosts in a New Light -Haunted Waterways’ (which can be ordered for £6.99 via my website www.janehunting.co.uk )  Next time you hear ‘ghost hunters’ implore a trapped spirit to ‘make a noise’, ‘move furniture’ or perform like circus animals for the cameras and other scientific instruments, or even to ‘prove you are a man!’ (and entertain us still living humans) – which I heard with my own ears on a well known TV programme – just stop and think for a moment.  That poor trapped spirit of a once living person could well be your own relative – or in years to come – YOU!

Judith Kusel

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