Why did my father-in-law’s soldier photo fall from the wall on armistice day?

13 11 2011

On Friday 11th November my husband casually mentioned that the photo of his smiling dad, wearing his army uniform in 1945, had somehow fallen from the wall and landed face down on his glass display cabinet.  Amazingly, neither the glass in the frame or the top of the cabinet wase cracked or broken! The string on the back of the photo is thick and strong, adding to the mystery of how it had parted to allow the picture to fall several inches and flip onto its front.

Immediately it became clear to me that his deceased Dad had something important to say from the other side, so I tuned in to his spirit with the aid of my dowser.  Sure enough, he had been waiting to have a word with his precious son!  Immediately his telepathic thoughts were transferred to me I grabbed a poste-it note to jot down the following:

“The plug!” he said…

“Plug?  As in electric plug….”

“As in RIFLE”, he said…”Cartridge…Tell him to BE CAREFUL!”  Then he put the spiritual telephone down, job done.  Eager to snatch every bit of information I could I made one more hook at Kenneth’s connection in time to grab the indistinct word ‘interference’.

When I passed this information to Michael he frowned…”I wonder….”  Incredibly, and unbeknown to me, he is having what is called a ‘plug’ made for an antique RIFLE he owns. He has recently been to see a specialist in antique firearms who agreed to make this plug that will allow a special size catridge to be made for the rifle.  While he was there he had thought of how much his father – himself in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers – would have enjoyed meeting a fellow engineer.  The warning ‘be careful’ and ‘interference’ obviously refer to Michael using this specially made cartridge in this particular rifle!  Even though the engineer would have made a brilliant job of making the plug, if Michael had then made special cartridges to use then it would have ‘backfired on him’!  Needless to say, he has taken heed and when he thought about it further suspects there may be an unseen (to him) hairline crack in the cartridge casing….which would have caused a possible backfire and injury to him.  Thanks Kenneth!

Surely it was no coincidence that this was Armistice day?  Due to the huge outpouring of grief at 11 am but also the significance of the date, 11.11.11 and the ever rising empthathy of the younger generation for the millions of servicemen and women who sacrificed their lives for peace, it came as no surprise when I had a call from my sister later that evening.  Her daughter had been scared out of her wits when a picture fell off her wall, but this one had smashed.  Straight away I tuned in and could hardly have been surprised to find a solitary old soldier had found his way into her flat, looking for help to find his way back home to join his comrades in arms already in the light.  When questioned, Lucy said that she had joined in with the 2 mts silence at 11 am and had felt moved to tears.  This outpouring of love had attracted the one lost soul in her vicinity who had given his life in service to his country  – and become trapped here.  I also discovered an ‘old battle axe’ of a woman who had left an icey feeling in the flat in her wake.

Lucy then told me she had also been walking home that evening along a dark route beside Farnham castle, lit by a solitary lamp on the castle wall.   She felt an uneasy sensation of being followed and as she increased her speed, the rendezvous point at an open space where she had agreed to meet her partner in sight ahead, she jumped out of her skin when the lamp popped loudly and she was left in complete darkness, fumbled for her phone for some light, fell over precariously close to a steep slope and felt absolutely terrifed as you can imagine. She sensed the combined threatening emotions of several beings, obviously made worse by her fear of the dark.

Sure enough there were 17 assorted ghosts in and around it, including the old lady who had followed her home –  being described as ‘a bit of a old battle axe’ now making sense considering ‘she’ (with long, madly flying locks) had followed Lucy from the Castle walls!  I had to keep checking the area for an hour or so afterwards as, quite commonly, word gets around in the spiritual dimension that if the local ghosts gather in a certain spot they will be picked up and transported back home to the light.  Among these, incredibly, were a soldier who had died in Norman times (more visuals of attacking battle axes) as well as the Civil War (blood and bandages).   Despite being scarey for my neice, soldiers spanning many eras were all very grateful for her help in getting them home again on such an appropriate, magical day of great significance!  In my personal experience, 111111 was the number of miles clocked up on our car just as I set out to teach my very first angel workshop many years ago – so I always associate a cluster of ‘1’s with meaning ‘yay! right time right place!’

Finally, I have been seeking lost souls connected to wars all over the world for many years now and helped many thousands who fell in battle and didn’t, for one reason or another, pass at the time.  My new book Ghostwriters in the Sky – A soul is forever, not just a lifetime, is shortly to go to press and contains many such examples, including how I was led to ghosts of the American Civil War on the very day that President Obama was inaugerated – after a wet ‘bullet’ shaped stone materialsed on the path outside my back door!

What sort of ghosts flew out of the film Ghost?

3 11 2011

A friend’s dog sent me the dvd GHOST to say thanks for some healing work I did on her when she was poorly.  Naturally, her mum chose it, wrapped it and posted it, having told me the musical of the same name was popular in London at the moment – and could be a good link for my forthcoming publication of Ghostwriters in the Sky – A soul is forever, not just a lifetime (I’m still tying up the never-ending strings!)  My husband Michael had to be persuaded to sit and watch it with me, convinced it was ‘a girls’ film’, but was soon glued to the screen, a smile on his lips.

The following morning I felt a little under the weather, my mood strangely dragged down for no apparent reason.  After writing up the notes for my diary and despite having just eaten breakfast, I suddenly felt an energy surge sucking me dry and had a great urge to dash for something sweet from the fridge – just as I imagine a diabetic must feel when they experience a sudden drop in blood sugar.  Yet I knew I was healthy.  I fumbled for my dowser and held it aloft, asking the question ‘what is causing me to feel like this?’…  “EXCITEMENT!” came the loud reply – and my dowser flew off at great speed clearing something from my energy field.   Perhaps this was a collective term for the rush of spirits to leave my space again as I held on tightly to the madly rotating crystal as it sped on and on for five long, gruelling minutes.  I thought I caught glimpses of prison bars and handcuffs but was still feeling disorientated and chose not to observe.  The dowser stopped for a second and calmy swung from side to side – an indication that my spirit helper is speaking to me – and it was to say a heartfelt ‘Thank you Jane,” before continuing for another 5 minutes, after which I felt marvellous again, much of my strength returned.

To those who have not read any of my previous blogs, what I was experiencing was a transfer of a large batch of earthbound spirits into my energy field for onward transmission to the light – something I have been doing for 12 years or so, but just occasionally the load of electro-magnetic energy suddenly sweeping in to mingle with my own causes a physical swaying, giddiness or as in this case a huge depletion in my physical strength.  This was only the beginning.  I asked what category those rescuees were classed in and the surprising answer was “MORONS!”   Immediately I made the mental connection.  In the film GHOST I had been impressed with how well this 1990’s film  had depicted the supernatural process of a ghost’s journey but laughed out loud when two of the ‘baddies’ died and were pounced upon by dark squirming, mumbling shapes who made suitably demonic noises and supposedly dragged them off to the underworld as their punishment.  This didn’t sit right with me as I know from my spirit work that everyone goes to the other side and gets the chance to explain their actions and make amends when possible….Only rarely has every spark of the Godlight disappeared from even a bad person and there is always hope and even forgiveness on the other side.

This was why I had been attracted to help ‘morons’ – and now I was in for a long channelling mission….“Thank you Jane for helping the lost ones who were sucked down into their own quagmire after death, the electro-magnetic energy of their thoughts and actions!” my guides reiterated.  For the next 45 minutes – a very long time clinging to my madly swirling dowser, changing hands and careful to hold the crystal aloft and away from any obstacles such as my lap top (!) – I transmuted these ‘morons’ over to barred ‘cells’ and ‘handcuffs’ as they were being herded into protective custody until lightworkers on the other side could classif them as ‘lunatics’, ‘off-the-wall nutcases’ and ‘megalomaniacs‘ (Accompanied by songs such as ‘I’m a firefighter/twisted firefighter’ and ‘up up and away in my beautiful balloon’…depending on their natures and also the category of ‘luvvies’ (actors)

When at last the dowsing subsided there was the usual message of completion and confirmation from the other side – rather like a psychic invoice!  Not only had I moved across 800 plus lost souls under the heading of ‘morons’ but my spiritual ‘accountant’ for the day told me ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave!’ before the curtain closed again.  Intrigued, as I had heard this quote before, I wondered if this could be Shakespearean.  Imagine my joy, and surprise, to discover that it was SIR WALTER SCOTT who said this in his 1808 epic poem Marmion, about the Battle of Flodden Field in 1513.  Sir Walter Scott is my benefactor on the other side who was responsible for dictating a poem to me about his own death experience – and led me on to speak with and help many famous spirits and record their own thoughts and observations on the journeying of each and every one of our souls – soon to be published in my new book!  How exciting is THAT?!

The handsome Sir Walte Scott!

The handsome Sir Walter Scott!

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