The alchemy of love

17 02 2014

Regular readers of my spirit rescue blogs will know that I transmute earthbound spirits through unconditional love, but there is a certain ‘magic’ involved in my missions. Last night my cell phone rang its ’emergency help line’ ring tone (see blog of 8/11/2013 re Heavenly Angels Calling!) and simultaneously Sam the (psychic) dog jumped up from his place of slumber on the couch beside me and stood to attention in front of me, ears pricked high in anticipation, dark brown eyes wide with expectation.
feb 14 winds 056feb 14 winds 055

Husband Mike shot me a knowing look and muted the television in respect while I picked up my dowser and moved one, then two then eventually thirty eight lost souls, now transmuted to the Light of heaven. Sam still stood gazing at me. It was now time to dowse HIM for attachments and sure enough another thirty eight earthbound animal souls were released from his aura, one by one. His response was to shake himself, as though he had emerged from a bathtub, and stare intently at the door. Experience had taught him that some more visitors were likely…but our mission had been accomplished.

As I stooped to retrieve the tapestry I had been working on, I noticed a small box tucked out of my previous line of sight behind the couch. ‘What’s this?‘ I asked Mike, who had not seen it before either. Written on the front were the words ‘100 POSTCARDS OF OUR PAST’ from ENGLISH HERITAGE. Our son, a history buff, had obviously left them by mistake on a previous visit. From an archive of more than 12 million documents preserved by English Heritage were images of late nineteenth century to late ’60’s photographs of architecture and social history.
floods 2014 012 Through these evocative images of our past my helper Angels had trawled time to scoop lost souls ~ both human and animal ~ into the net of love, for onward transmission to the light of their origin.

Bedlam as the angels help calm a demented man threatening to skin

5 01 2014

I awoke from a queer dream to hear Sammy the dog whimpering and going on, so let him into the adjoining room of our holiday cottage (dogs not allowed in bedrooms) and settled him, at the same time checking him for unearthly attachments (he is a very sensitive dog). Sure enough, there were 10 animal spirits stuck to him (ie those animals who had died and not moved on to the spiritual plane and were attracted to him because of his fear of the wind and noises outside.) After releasing and moving them on I crawled back to bed, but checked both my sleeping husband and myself in case we had been ‘infected’. Strangely enough, we each had 12 earthbound (human) spirits stuck in our own energy fields, now removed via my flying dowser. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned on my side.

Immediately I closed my eyes I saw a fearsome man’s face snarling at me and leapt up, my heart beating frantically. Was I still dreaming? I closed my eyes once more and there he was again, a demented man holding aloft a large knife and threatening to ‘skin your dog alive’!

‘No! No you don’t….’ I ordered him (and Sammy was whimpering again from next door). I jumped back up in my bed and grabbed my dowser (an aid to ‘catching’ lost souls). The response was frantic, likened to trying to reel in a huge fighting shark, so I stopped to regain my equilibrium. I tried again, but he was too entrenched in madness for me to deal with alone. It had been a while since I needed the help of the Angelic Brigade. I centred myself and visualised the still snarling man being surrounded by pure love and light ~ and not only were his earthly chains cut but those of another 23 ~ in-mates of the place called Bedlam, a Lunatic Asylum which really existed in London 700 years ago. After sinking back into a deep sleep I awoke again, this time with palpitations. Nothing that needed medical treatment, but tons of emotional stress dropped on my physical self whilst ushering such lost, helpless, emotionally stressed souls through to the pearly gates and paradise. All it took was a minute or so’s whirling of my dowser to lift this stress from my heart, returning it to a normal rhythm ~ just like that!

All became clear when I recalled the previous evening’s revelry. Whilst my daughter, her friend and I laughed raucously over a board game, my husband and her friend’s boyfriend were distracted by a Time Team television programme in the background, about Bedlam. I merely caught eye of some drawings of ‘treatments’ metered out to ‘mad people’ to ‘shake the madness out of them’. This had obviously been enough for me to reach out to those ghosts not at rest and therefore draw them, albeit unconsciously, into my energy field. And there was me, thinking 2014 was going to be a quiet one!

German U-Boat Kapitan lifted from the seabed after 68 years

24 11 2013

Mike was watching The Battle of the Atlantic on Sunday last, with Jules Holland talking about German casualties from WWI and the finding of submarine wrecks on the seabed. Once again, my cheeks sizzled with the electric current along which lost souls travel and 12 of them arrived in my safe house for onward transmission via the angels.

“We have suffered in silence for so long ~ Thank you!” a spokesperson said gratefully. (Thank you Jules Holland and everyone involved in the conception and making of the programme too!)

A little later on in the programme the focus was on one particular German U boat, identified as U1014. It was destroyed while under water in 1945 and all 48 men on board were killed by the depth charge….most younger than 22…so sad. Just one of these men remained stuck, unable to come to terms with what had happened to his men. He simply called himself the Kapitan. He was very young, and very good looking. He saluted as he moved over to join his comrades, but it was not the salute of a Nazi, rather a salute of Gratitude. Husband Mike was excited that we had the number of the U-boat as he could find out this young Kapitan’s name and details. Sure enough, it was Wolfgang Glaser who was the ‘Oberleutnant zur See’ of that submarine (and who had touched my heart and my soul so strongly)…He was just 25 years old, and had commanded for less than 3 weeks. The year before, the sub had rammed her sister boat U1015 in the Baltic Sea, which sank, costing the lives of 36 ~ Is it any wonder that this young man could not rest in peace?

To put all this into perspective though, 36,000 merchant seamen, 30,000 German submariners and 37,000 Allied sailors lost their lives in WW2.
I have just asked whether any of these men are still lost and just 9 needed a helping hand…and 7 from The Lusitania.

The majority of us pass safely and smoothly at the end of our physical lifetimes on earth ~ onto bigger and better things, of course!

Heavenly bells from mobile mean ‘Angels calling’!…

8 11 2013

Last Saturday, Mikey and I had a cosy night in and watched Downton Abbey (Brilliant!), then I took grand-doggie Alfie out into the dark garden to pay a call. Suddenly a loud ring emanated from inside ~ not a ring tone I recognised as our house phone or either of our mobiles…Sure enough, the loud ringing WAS coming from my mobile, but the screen didn’t register a call coming in, so there was no way Michael (still inside) could answer it.

Is it an alarm of some sort?…” I asked my bemused husband.

Siren!” came the answer from my helper angels…Electricity is a conductor of spirit energy and this was yet another ingenious way to alert me to those who had not been automatically redirected to the Bus Stop for Lost Souls I have set up in the garden (the subject of a future post). I took my dowser and moved over 50 individual lost souls under the general heading of ‘South Africa’. Immediately I recalled that the head butler (Carson) in the Downton Abbey episode, just viewed, made a typical racist comment of the era when asking a black jazz singer if he had ever been to South Africa. This is the magic of the mindwaves! By merely hearing those words I sent out a message to any lost souls connected to them to come here for shelter and onward transmission to the Light…..The old fashioned bell ring tone emanating from my mobile stopped the moment the souls were safely Home!

Two days later, more magic was afoot…I heard the emergency bell ringing again from my mobile, but ~ at the same time! ~ my usual melodious ring tone alerted me to an earthly real-time incoming call! They were both ringing at the same time, which was incredible! I swiped to speak to my client asking to book an appointment for a reiki and clearing session….And the angelic tone was obviously put on hold as I heard a beep beep engaged tone throughout out conversation. “Can you hear it your end?” I asked my client, but she could not. As soon as we’d finished chatting and she hung up, the loud bell siren once more called out from my mobile ~ and once more nothing but the usual screen saver showed and so there was no physical way of answering it. I took my dowser and moved 75 lost souls ~ who had come from the client who had booked a session!!!! Amazingly, they’d been transmuted via my mobile for a quickie onward transmission to the Light ~ probably because my next available appointment was not until the following week …and obviously they could not wait that long! 😀

Drunken ghost in a charity shop!

30 10 2013

The following story of some years ago may not have been seen by my regular readers as it is under my other (underused, due to time limitations!) Blog The Daily Ghost ~ so am sharing it here and hope you enjoy it!

Just returned from a fortnight’s well earned ‘rest’ in Cornwall with my parents but the usual ghostly shinanigans made most days just like any other days and weeks! Just to pass on some of the lighter moments… Mum serves in the Marazion charity shop once a week so I accompanied her on Thursday 13th, tucking myself behind the tiny counter of the tiny shop where mum and I shared a stool – “You have it….no you have it!” Ten minutes into her stint a loud crash caused every set of eyeballs to hone in on two large cups and saucers which splayed noisily to the floor (without breaking!) and the lady shopper who had her generous bottom bent towards the table gasped

I was nowhere near it… How did that happen?”

“Don’t worry… Jane will sort it!” trilled my mum, not realising I had caught sight of the culprit – An apparition who had wandered into the shop after mingling innocently with the throngs of holidaymakers buzzing around this popular seaside town. I spoke telepathically to the ghost of the stocky man in the flat cap, who wasn’t at all concerned as I retrieved the crockery and returned it to its neat pile on the table.

Can I help you Sir?” was the only thing I could think of at the time.

Albert Horace Wentworth at your service ma’am….I was only tuchin’ (Cornish accent)” He winked cheekily in the direction of the lady with the shapely figure and made to leave in a hurry, so I called after him. (Telepathically, so as not to blow my own cover to the holidaymakers of course!)

“Do you realise I can see you?”

“Gross misjustice of conduct!” he cried, which made me laugh as he was obviously inebriated! He looked me up and down through straggly eyebrows and hazy eyeballs and I read his thoughts as he called me “a mere flippety-gibbit” and shuffled out of the shop again. I resisted grabbing him by his braces and had to let him go.

Once home, I tuned in to the merry ghost via two of my helpful spirit guides, who each took a supporting arm as I offered him help him to leave the earth plane, but he vigorously declined, shaking off the angels and telling us to “get lost‘” Ironically, this was what had happened to himself when he was waylaid enroute home to the other side, but as he was obviously happy in this state I did something I don’t usually do and didn’t persuade him any different.

25th August 2009

Drove back to Nottingham via my neice’s in Dorset, to drop off some Christening presents for her cute 8 month old daughter Lily – a round trip of almost 400 miles in 10 1/2 hours, also stopping off to photograph my favourite Stone Henge on Salisbury Plain and walk past the house in Tidworth where we had lived 25 years previously – such memories came flooding in! Also flooding in were large batches of lost souls from the areas and the roads and motorways not previously dowsed for earthbound souls. As I did my best to ignore the stinging cheekbones which indicate many souls clammering for attention, we were intermittently reminded by the bleeping on the car’s dashboard and the red warning light which indicated our seatbelts were not done up (which we tested and retested by pulling them in and out, knowing we were fully strapped in) …Spirit obviously has a sense of humour as, when I picked up my dowser to open the high speed portal of light to transport them through, I saw the joke….”Fasten your seatbelts please!”

Towards the end of our mammoth trip, my right ear throbbed with a sudden megaphone-type energy as someone said “pin your ears back. Look at the time….” and then left just as suddenly. I glanced at the car clock and noted it: 7.13 pm. What could this mean? All the digits added together came to 11 …which always indicates to me that I am in the right place at the right time…But, the spirit visitor returned and I felt as though I were Dumbo again as Sheila, my husband’s deceased mother, acting as a spirit guide and protector (she died in 2000), once more pulled at my poor, tired ear…

Take your time,” she implored; “take your time!” All in one thought she conveyed to me the fact that she had been scanning the road ahead and spotted a “fly by night” with whom we definitely needed to avoid coming into contact. We thanked her for her loving protection and Mike took his foot off the accelerater. “Keep your eyes on the road,” she encouraged. After 10 mts or so she said “you’re alright now” and sent several personal messages from herself and husband for my husband, who was incredulous as seconds before I had told him his mother was on the line he had been thinking of her; imagining asking her advice on some other matter. “Knock and the door shall be opened!” she advised. In other words, my husband merely thinking of his mother had brought her rushing to him, hence the advice on driving safely! We passed a tractor and trailer in the gloom; a boy racer weaved in and out ahead of us; someone drove at high speed from a services slip-road and joined the motorway in an erratic fashion: Time as we know it is of such consequence to our daily journeys; it could have been any one of those things we had been involved with due to only a second or two’s difference in speed. Imagine how busy our spirits and guides on the other side are, scanning our paths for trouble the moment we connect with them in loving thoughts, however subconsciously!

When the long hours turned to dusk I suddenly thought about Albert Horace Wentworth and decided to have another go at offering him assistance. My guides found him tucked up in a dark alleyway in Penzance, several miles down the coast from the charity shop in Marazion. As he was snoozing, I left him. Just before we reached the familiar territory of home, however, my guides returned and informed me that they had kept the light shining on him and he suddenly awoke and followed it home: “ Sorry about the behaviour; most rude of me! ” he said from his rightful home on the other side. I discovered that he had been a sailor in Penzance when it was buzzing port. “A thriving fishing community,” he said sadly, “lost t’ world. W””””””s! ” he said of those who brought in fishing quotas which lost him his livlihood. “What else to do but drink y’ dole money?” he asked.Still. Safely back in ‘arbour na; thanks missy!”

Cotton mill child workers shuttled gently back to heaven

30 09 2013

Today I was meant to see a client for healing but fate decreed that she postponed. This meant I could accompany my son and his new bride to Manchester Airport and wave them off on their honeymoon to Switzerland. As the return journey was another 2 1/2 hours, Mikey and I decided to stop off at a National Trust property named Quarry Bank (Cheshire) and walk our doggie round the beautiful grounds, whilst indulging in a little historical culture at the same time…

Some of you may have seen a recent Channel 4 series named The Mill: a period drama set in 1833 and based on real-life stories and people of the textile mill workers. We had not realised this drama had been filmed at this very Quarry Bank Mill! I for one was relieved to learn that the characters and events had only been loosely based on real life and events: To me, the huge mill with its working machinery and the most powerful watermill in Europe represented child labour and greedy mill owners, so I was relieved to find it wasn’t quite the dark satanic mill that had been portrayed on television.  (I had been unable to watch after the first broadcast as it was too emotive.)

However, serendipity decreed that  within minutes of arrival at the mill I had to answer a call of nature and found myself being swept along with a gaggle of young schoolgirls into the ladies! Safely ensconced in a cubicle I decided I’d just do a bit of fishing for any lost souls ~ and was immediately approached by another (spirit) gaggle of youngsters ~ 23 little girls who had perished during the early history of the mill and who ‘had not made it’ … Just as I moved this batch over to the other side, I had to laugh at the irony as a school mistress interrupted the noisy girls congregated around the wash basins with a loud voice: “GIRLS!!! (Deadly silence) If you are done here will you please leave NOW…”   (I like to think I was far more gentle with my girls LOL!)

I chuckled to see the living girls lined up quietly on the cobbles outside and as I passed them I wanted to stand in place of their school teacher and give them another important lesson in life:  Appreciate the life you have now, for the children who worked in the mill  died from terrible diseases like cancer of the mouth from sucking cotton through bobbins or the groin from oils rubbing against them, bent over from 70 hour working weeks, were ‘contracted’ to work from the age of 8 years, right up until they were 18 ~ so there was no way out for them.  The lasses who rushed to me in spirit form ‘had not made it’ into heaven and had haunted the mill with their bent up sick little spirits since the Victorian era.  It is through LOVE that I was able to reunite them with their families waiting on the other side.

Later, in a room showing the stages of cotton, from the plant to the spinning wheels and then to the fabric, I found one lone cotton picker, and Mike obligingly hid my madly spinning dowser from pubic view as I retrieved his soul. We climbed down some cold stone steps, well worn from years of little feet up and down them, and I came across a crouching spirit child retching in a corner, which led me to find another 8 hiding on these stairwells. At the Accounting House I found the energies too oppressive to enter and hovered in the doorway. From here I cleared a huddle of 13 ‘accountants and desk wallopers’ (!) from the Dickens-type space of musty dark wood document draws and desks ~ obviously a combination of hard working accountants and their Mr Gradgrind type bosses who kept the mill running like machinery. They were no doubt relieved to find themselves back in the healing, gentle and loving existence of the After Life!

A chance meeting with a 400 year old witch

19 09 2013

My parents were up country for their grandson’s wedding so it was a great chance to take them to see my Uncle and Aunt in the nearby county of Leicestershire. We all had a wonderful reunion, after which eight of us descended on a quaint little pub for lunch. Although I was enjoying a rare break from checking for lost souls, enjoying the family camaraderie, it was inevitably time to pop to the Ladies and out of pure habit I whipped out my dowser to check ~ I can’t help myself!!

Wow! Within seconds, four lost souls had shot through the portal and into the Light…

The fifth, however, paused before following them to freedom:

“Witch hunt!…” she cried…”t’were a witch hunt!….’ung me in a gibbet!!!” My dowser flailed wildly as she was being pulled in the direction of the Light but struggled to make her voice heard;…”Me bairn! They snatched me bairn; ripped her from me bos’m!” When a soul is extremely distressed like this it is my duty to try and calm them down so that their passing will be as gentle as possible. I sympathised greatly with her, feeling the awful pain that only a mother can feel when something so terrible comes between her and her child.

“Evelyn Peasgood…” she said clearly, “Evelyn Peasgood; that’s me name…Forget me not!…” ~ then she passed serenely. I scribbled her details onto a scrap of paper in my back pocket and slipped it to my husband upon return to the table. Not all my extended family were aware of my other life as a ghost rescuer and it was easier to keep quiet about my encounter. However, there is a time and a season to every purpose under heaven as, only 10 minutes later, my father thrust one of my calling cards in front of my Uncle’s face. (Oh no! Such a lot of explaining to do and I’m sure he will be a sceptic…) To my amazement he was very interested in my work, so I took a chance and told him how I’d just met Evelyn Peasgood, who told me she had been hanged as a witch. He gazed into my eyes earnestly…

“Just 2 miles up the hill in that direction,” he said, “several witches were hung…” Perhaps Evelyn had given me her name so that I could look into history and complete her story? Once home I studied a map of the area and found that midway between Husbands Bosworth and Church Langton, where I found Evelyn in the pub, there is road named Gallow Field Road. Research into witchcraft in Leicestershire revealed that on July 18th 1616, alongside poor Evelyn, eight other woman were executed by hanging, their remains grotesquely hung in gibbets. Tragically, they were executed for their ‘supposed involvement in the alleged bewitchment of (a young lad named) John Smyth’ (recorded July 18th, 1618)…In this modern age we now know that John Smyth, far from being possessed of evil spirits, was suffering from epileptic fits.

It is recorded elsewhere that these poor women were made to chant incantations over the boy in a bid to retract their so called evil influences.

Why did Evelyn Peasgood insist I remember her name? When I found her details in that ledger (she directed me to the correct entry), it read: ‘Anon 269 is hanged as a witch on July 18th 1666 at Husbands Bosworth, Leicester’. To add insult to injury, she and all those innocent women were completely stripped of their identities. Just numbers in a Ledger! Mercifully, each had left their bodies after death but Evelyn could not bear to leave her young child motherless and had stayed by her side until she grew, and then left for the light after her natural death. Evelyn, however, was unable to leave the magnetic vibration of the earth and therefore remained in limbo for almost 400 years.

“All is not lost!” interjected Evelyn from the other side as I wrote: “We are all reunited in love and forgiveness of one another ~ hallelujah, Praise the Lord!” Now, thanks to that chance encounter in the pub, not only has the spirit of Evelyn been returned to her rightful place in heaven, but she has retrieved her rightful identity.

To honour those poor women wrongly hunted and murdered as witches, the other numbers registered in that Ledger are 301 (died while in custody in gaol), 300, 298, 297, 295, 294, 293 and 292 ~ is it not strange that Evelyn was numbered 269 and was the only soul to remain earthbound for the next 400 years? (In numerology, 2+6+9=17=8 ~ a symbol of everlasting life!)

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