Witches coven in local Sharp Hill woods?

8 04 2010

Easter Sunday found me on my third brisk walk with our dog Sammy and this time we’d headed for a recently designated Nature Reserve wood, also adopted by the Notts Wildlife Trust.  Although we’ve lived in West Bridgford, Nottinghamshire  for 20 years we had never actually ventured to the wood atop the green hill, only passed it on the local Melton Road and admired it from afar, but we had got wind of a local petition to save the greenbelt area surroundinge the wood from developers.  The official saving of this old wood for future generations to enjoy was seen as a great triumph and naturally we thought it was about time we explored it for ourselves.

We puffed to the brow of the hill and followed the trail to the inviting entrance of Sharphill Wood, complete with  wooden boards painted in yellow letters, proudly proclaiming the status of this brand new Nature Reserve, including a little box containing shiny new information leaflets.  The public were politely invited to keep to the newly built (and very muddy, due to heavy traffic) wide pathways meandering in many directions, so us humans obligingly strode out as best we could, slithering and balancing along the way – while the elegant long legs of our collie danced lightly ahead!  Despite not yet in leaf, many of the mixed deciduous trees provided an impressive canopy above.  The Trust volunteers had obviously been busy blocking certain vulnerable areas with branches from small trees, which had  been thinned from the woodland floor and rich, dark vegetation was already evident in these pockets.

A good ten minutes into our walk I became aware of spirits whispering; a combination of the nature spirits of the trees and woodland but also a human spirit.  (After the muddy path became impassable we had decided to pick our way respectfully  into the centre of the woodland, which was more natural)  I tuned my ears to the conversation, which appeared to be about me….   

“Is she a wych?”….Ay, a good wych…see how her spirit dances?….”  Did they realise I could hear them? I could sense the phantom of a slim girl, dressed in rags and light on her bare feet, with matted hair but very bright eyes, was walking just behind us, curious as to my intentions. 

“Hello.” I said simply, without turning around; “These are beautiuful woods… What’s your name?” 

“…Margueriete -” (Curiously, the French version of the English, ‘Margaret’ and also the name of a chrysanthemum-like daisy).  “I come by here every day to gather herbs for my pot and berries for my sups…” she volunteered.    She continued to dawdle comfortably behind us, sharing the beauty of the natural surroundings.  I asked her where she lived: “Yonder, by Ruddingtown.”  It seemed a shame to bring up the subject of her trapped spirit as she seemed so happy, but just as I pulled my dowser from my jean’s pocket (necessary to marry up her spirit to the portal of light) there was a mad moment of confusion as it almost flew from my grasp; a man from the other side (already at peace and obviously known to her in their medeival lifetimes) appeared instantaneously as the girl’s spirit joined his own; home at last.  In a fleeting moment I experienced his horrifyingly vivid death scene: He had been ‘crucified‘ by being nailed to a tree.  The man (‘Edward‘, also sounded with a French accent) had left his body at the time of death but Margureite’s spirit (she had also been unspeakably murdered) had become trapped by the horror of her death….in the woods….by ‘fellow wyches’…part of a Black Magic circle.  Barbarically, she had been ‘made to watch while her ‘brother’ was ritually sacrificed by the evil Pagans.’  Oo-er.

How appropriate that I should be drawn on this Easter Day to rescue a young girl who had witnessed another crucifixion.  Later, I was led to guide many more wandering souls in this vicinity back to the light – and then clear the dark residue that hung ominously above Sharp Wood, infiltrating within after dusk had fallen.  If anyone who knows the history of this land would like to comment they are most welcome, as always!





The Week’s Farewell column 3 April 2010

1 04 2010

Part of my policy to help earthbound spirits on their way is to check the Farewell columns wherever I see them, whether it be in our church magazine, newspaper columns or, as today, the list of 5 recently deceased people in The Week magazine.  9 times out of 10 all the names listed have already departed for the light.  Once in a while one of the list (usually consisting of 5 or 6) needs a helping hand, but today was very different indeed, making me think that perhaps I was led to tell you this!  As soon as I saw the 5 on today’s list my crown tingled – all 5 were still loitering on the earthplane, so I helped each in turn to leave.

Minutes later, I asked each in turn whether (now safely on the other side) they wished to pass on any message for my blog.  Below I have copied the information from The Week, followed by the comments received:

‘Robert Culp, actor, writer and director, died 24 March, aged 79′ – “Darn it; I forgot to bring my fags!”

‘Maria Fairweather, linguist and biographer, died 8 March, aged 66′ – “There is about to come a spiritual and cultural revolution!”

‘His Honour, Alan-King Hamilton, Old Bailey Judge, died 23 March, aged 105′ (!) –  “His Master’s Voice has spoken!”  (I see a wooden gavel come down hard)

‘Vasily Smyslov, chess grand master, died 27 March, aged 89′ – (My husband and son just happen to be having a quick, rare game of chess as I tune in to him at 8.45 pm!) – “We exist in a parallel world!’ 

‘Elspeth Thompson, Telegraph writer, died 25 March, aged 48′ (tragically young) – “I left behind a great legacy!”

Obviously, I know nothing of the personal circumstances of any of these souls but if anyone reading this does then I would appreciate any feedback! 

Note: None of the above were ‘trapped’ souls as they had only died 8 days, 24 days, 9 days, 5 days and 7 days before I offered them a helping hand. (It is not until approximately 3 months after the death of the physical body that a soul becomes disorientated and unable to find the way home.) All would eventually have left off their own free will, but all wished to contribute to the spiritual understanding of their fellow men and women!

Several voices now concluded: “And so say all of us!”





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!





The Charge of the Light Brigade!

21 02 2010

Those of you who follow my adventures with spirit will know that Lord  Alfred Tennyson was not resting in peace (see last blog) and between myself and my spiritual helpers we were able to point him homewards towards the light.  A day or two later I tuned back into his spirit to see if he had anything to share in this blog and to my surprise he handed me over to a Lord Cardigan, who led the Charge of the Light Brigade!   (Tennyson wrote a famous poem on this subject) Often those who have a need to pass on a message to mankind return to dictate their thoughts and the following is a transcription taken on 12th February 2010… 

I tripped; I thundered.   It was of no consequence to me at the time.  I trampled men underfoot in my strive for perfection in technique on the battlefield (of life).  I was/am no unsung heroMy operations were elaborate.  I generated greed and hatred all in the name of sovereignty”…At this moment my face tingled and a large batch of landowners moved over.... “It was all nonsensical!  I harboured!”… a batch of Russian casualties, earthbound to this day, moved across to the light (helped by the real charge of the Light Brigade)…72 wounded and missing from Home.  “Reservist army, clobbered.  I made a bloody mountain out of a mischievous molehill.” ..Another 5 souls are lifted from the tunnel of darkness… “Extenuating circumstances… Elaborate operations with blunderbusses!”... Another 2 ‘blasted’…Misunderstandings!  I have since battled with my own  mountainous journey homewards – My soul’s  need  to conquer the battlefields of my own mind!  Supposition has been gained.  The door has been swung shut.  I have opined sufficiently.  All comrades are reunited in the Glory of God.  Another battle over.  In the deep cesspool of humanity’s history there have been many errors made, errant past, erroneous and inhumane deeds.  Notice is hereby given.  (I see a white flag of truce)  Enough sacrifice!  Surrender to your Higher Selves.”

(The Charge of the Light Brigade was a disastrous charge of British cavalry led by the 7th Earl of Cardigan KCB (1797-1868) – against Russian forces during the Battle of Balaclava on 25/10/1854)

He drew a line across his throat.

After sharing this with my husband he said “remember those pistols from the Crimean War which you did psychometry on a few years back?” (Being a woman (ha ha) I had not connected the ‘Crimean War’ with the Battle of Balaclava until now!)  A collector of antique arms, upon hearing of my unusual abilities, showed me a cased pair of percussion pistols and asked for my opinion on them, even though he had inherited their written prominence.  (Obviously it was a test!)  As soon as I handled the first pistol I knew it had not been used to take a person’s life, but the second was different.  I closed my eyes and saw a Victorian London street, I could see drains on the cobbled street and looking up there were steps leading up to a big house.  I was looking through the eyes of a lady in long skirts carrying a basket on my left arm, inside which was a cabbage. (“That was you, my dear” came a voice as I typed this…and a large batch of earthbound spirits from this time were lifted in a vortex of love)…I walked up the steps and into the house, stopping on my left to open a door to the Master’s room.  I saw a gentleman at a desk, silhouetted against the light window, and told him I had got a cabbage and would make some soup and he was very pleased!  Then there was a whooshing sound and a swirling sensation as I had moved forward a number of years in time.  I was now observing from the back of a chapel or church, the same man with his back to me stood alongside his wife, who had a lacey veil over her head, and between them I could see a baby being christened at a stone font.  The baby’s name was ‘William’.  Then there followed another whoosh and I saw a ship sailing on the high seas and then a battle. I opened my eyes again and carefully handed back the (very expensive) pistols…

The owner of these collectables then revealed (with shock all over his face!) that what I had seen in my vision matched exactly with the documentary evidence he had in respect of the original owner of the pistols.  In particular that they belonged to a titled Londoner named William who had used them in the Crimean War. (I think I passed the test!)

With grateful thanks to my very special friend, whose husband once more carried the charge of the Light Brigade forward (via his energy field) to help us on more successful spirit rescue missions!





Johannes Brahms, Standing Bear and Lord Tennyson pay us a visit!

17 02 2010

13th February saw a group of ladies collected at my home for our spiritual support group.  I followed the usual routine of offering my assistance to each in turn – the first needed a quick clearing of earthbound spirits from her energy centres but this was immediately followed by the ‘oompah-pah’ song  from her father-in-law in spirit – always raising a laugh as he played in a brass band when he was on earth (and reassuring for this lady as proof that he continues to live)…

The second lady received the message ‘have faith’ from her deceased father – followed by the image of a trumpet blowing ‘bum cheeks’.  I am merely the messenger but always feel it is my duty to pass on whatever I am sent from the other side and luckily this received a fit of giggles from this lady and her daughter, who knew what this ‘wind instrument’ implied…

The third lady is a gifted healer in her own right, and has a particular connection to nature spirits.  “You will think this is a bit weird, Jane…” she said, “but I saw a bear standing in the corner of my living room the other night!”  (In my business, nothing should be passed over – if you will excuse the pun – so I set to with my dowser and as I passed several spirits over received ‘Brahms’ (the composer), ‘Black Forest’ and ‘Germany‘ ….but most significantly a massive charge of buffalo spirits thundered home – taking so long as my dowser whirled I had nothing to report but dust  from the stampede!  I saw her bear standing on two legs and said Standing Bear! (“Yes”, she confirmed, he was standing up on two legs.”)

Finally, my fourth lady asked me to check her husband and after removing ‘an aggressive sort’  from his solar plexus, I was led to clear his earth star chakra (below the feet and often associated with past life ‘leftovers’)  I heard Charge of the Light Brigade! and felt his significant involvement with this time in history.  In the meantime my dowser whorled on and on clearing something on a very deep level.  Later, she helpfully emailed me links to websites detailing the ‘Charge’ but as I had little time I used the headings to dowse for earthbound souls still in need of help.  Between the ‘Light Dragoons, Lancers and Hussars’ only sixteen remained (‘quagmire/slippery/slidery mess’) and all the commanders had passed safely. However, Lord Alfred Tennyson, who wrote the patriotic poem Charge of the Light Brigade (1855) was still stuck after 118 years….and stepped aboard the spiritual vortex leading the others home!

The very next day I ‘happened’ to switch the TV on to BBC2’s ‘FLOG IT!’ which was broadcast from Clacton-on-Sea and was amazed to see that a member of the public had brought in a late Victorian umbrella stand in the shape of a standing bear and the expert said it had been made in the Black Forest in Germany!  My mind returned to ‘Brahms’ so I researched this famous composer.  Also born in Germany, his father Johann Jakob Brahms (1806–72), apparently played in a brass band! – And although both men were resting in peace, the younger Frederic (?) was still stuck on the earthplane…but not for long….and it was no surprise when his soul sang out  ‘oom pa pa!’ as he was reunited with his father!

Finally, I was drawn to enter Standing Bear in the google tool and guess what?  He was a native American Ponca Indian Chief  (who passed over safely in 1908) and he and his people were nomadic buffalo hunters!!! (Ashes to ashes, dust to dust LOL!)  He was keen to point out that his people ‘revered the buffalo, including his/her spirit’, and that the buffalo who needed help were not treated with the same respect… Over the next few days I saw ‘standing bears’ everywhere…at the NEC Fair Birmingham on Sunday I spotted what I thought was a little metal bear and upon asking its price was told ‘£150, but you can have it for £125….It is hand carved out of wood from the Black Forest…’

“I’m sure it is worth every penny”, I laughed, “but quite out of my own reach!” ….”Oompah-pah, oompah-pah that’s how it goes…” sang my friends from the Other Side!

Postscript:

Luther STANDING BEAR quote: ‘The American Indian is of the soil, whether it be the region of forests, plains, pueblos, or mesas. He fits into the landscape, for the hand that fashioned the continent also fashioned the man for his surroundings. He once grew as naturally as the wild sunflowers; he belongs just as the buffalo belonged.





Edward G Robinson calls for his earthbound son…

24 01 2010

A spirit visitor dropped by in the twilight moments between wakefulness and sleep, but I could only see his feet, which I stood above, as though he were I….

I knew I was in costume of sorts – rather like someone such as Sir Francis Drake would have worn – and as I looked through his eyes I took in all the detail of the stairs I ascended, the fancy skirting board on the landing, the fancy tapestries on the walls….I looked to my right and the door to a room, rather like an office, was open.  A man sat at a desk in equally fancy garb and smiled at me, then picked up a quill to write something on the parchment in front of him.   It was a fancy ‘G’, with a much smaller squiggle below…’Could it have been a ‘v’?’ I wrote in my diary the next day. I was tired and flummoxed but heard the man say he was ‘Edward G. Robinson’.

Almost forgetting come morning I asked my husband Michael if he knew this name (he was vaguely familiar to me) and when he said he was ‘an actor in the 1940’s’, I looked him up.  Sure enough, he lived from 1893-1973. But he was, however, resting in peace.  I wondered what the ‘G’ in his name represented, as it was obviously of significance, and scoured the biographies.  Apparently he was born Emmanual Goldenburg but changed his name to Edward ‘G’ Robinson – the ‘G’ signifying his birth name, Goldenburg.  By why had he scribed that beautiful ‘G’ with a small ‘v’ underneath?  On checking for other family members I tripped upon the answer! –

His son by his first wife, actress Gladys Lloyd,  was known as Edward Goldenberg Robinson Jnr (the younger or smaller one…so what I thought was a ‘v’ was obviously a ‘j’ for junior!) and to my surprise, the moment this reality planted itself in my mind, a spirit rushed to the portal – My cheeks prickled with spirit connection as I grabbed my dowser to accompany his transition home – and the hitherto earthbound spirit of Edward G Robinson’s son rushed to join his father on the other side!  He appeared a little bedgraggled, wore a cape and attempted to straighten a lopsided crown!

Sadly, Mr Robinson had apparently been found unconscious by his wife, aged only 40!  (1933-1974)

Go forward with your Staff to Light the Darkness ahead,” was the message received back. 

“But why should EGR send for his son, missing from home, in such a long-winded and flamboyant manner?” (I answered this question myself! ‘Because he was an actor I suppose! ‘) “Did EGR junior die of ‘natural causes’ as reported in his biography?

“Bronchial,” came back the short confirmation  Of his father he declared that he was ‘the greatest actor that ever lived!’ 

More research on EGR junior revealed he was  also an actor and wrote an autobiography in 1957 called ‘My Father, My Son’ .. ‘I bet that is why the Son wore a lopsided crown – because he felt he didn’t quite reach the dizzy heights of his father’s talent?’ I thought to myself – forgetting for a moment that those in the light and in the know can read my thoughts….

“I aint making any two-bit bets with you tonight” laughed the Father.

(I was thrilled to discover, when my husband said ‘I’m sure EGR said that once in a film’, that indeed he did: In 1931 in a classic film gangster called Smart Money!)





negative thoughtforms and orbs caught on camera!

21 01 2010

Enlarged photo for closer view of orbs

Same image taken minutes later – clear of energy!

 

Negative thoughtforms and orbs around Alan

Thanks to Alan who has given me permission to publish this photo (see my post of 1st January 2010 for a full explanation).  Besides the 520 earthbound spirits who caused this cloud of negativity (with their own personal energies at the time of their deaths, such as fear, confusion, anger and other negative emotions) , two prominent orbs can also be seen – one above his left shoulder and another on the placemate on the table in front of him.  These were two visitors from the light (as opposed to trapped and earthbound spirits) helping with the rescue mission….guardians and concerned relatives who travel to earth via orbs  to encourage loved ones to leave.

Any questions?  Please feel free to ask via the comments facility below!





help for haiti souls lost in confusion of death

16 01 2010

Following the devastating earthquake in Haiti on Wednesday afternoon (13th) I did what I always do when I hear of any such tragedies – whether it be one of our soldiers recently killed in Afghanistan, or indeed any loss of life anywhere in the world. – and that is to dip into the energy of that time and place and check whether my help is needed to boost the onward transition of any trapped or confused souls and if necessary councel and reassure them…

I found that only twenty or so spirits had been held back at this initial shocking stage of the disaster, and assisted them in catching up with those many hundreds who had passed immediately – as is normal for most people.  But due to the nature of the shocking and sudden loss of life, and those who were still alive but trapped and/or badly hurt under layers of rubble, I was to find that many more were trying to make the transition over the next two days…

All throughout the next day I received batches of souls who needed that boost, which I fitted between my other duties to clients and their children, including a 10 year boy who was being haunted by ‘a tramp, with an audience behind him’ – which turned out to be 200+ spirits, both stuck in his energies and occupying his home…  But I was not prepared for the sheer velocity of earthbound spirits (people just like you or me who had lost their lives so suddenly and could not find the direction of the light to move on) who were to be ushered my way that evening…

I fell into bed at midnight, happy that the latest batch had arrived safely on the other side and was soon in a blissful sleep.  However, only 20 mts later a sudden deep voice used my throat (the communication centre for the physical as well as the spiritual and higher levels of vibration) to cry out and therefore awaken me to himself and the many who were now weeping and wailing and pleading ‘why has God forsaken us?’ and as they moved into the light, ‘Mary, Mother of God!’ and the like!

At just before 2 am myself, my husband and our son (and the dog!) were all propelled awake, my heart for one beating furiously with shock, as our son’s television suddenly burst forth ON FULL VOLUME and with the ‘sub-woofer’ vibrating in three enormous blasts, the brightness of the huge flat screen lighting up our room from across the corridor!

“It’s okay….I reassured them, and grabbed my dowser from my side locker.  Immediately, the television turned itself off again.  I clung to my dowser, laying on my back and half asleep, until five minutes to 3.  This time I had to clear the house as well as the area above the earthquake zone, and even my famiily and the dog, as many spirits filled the energies of our home.. .This time I could see a particularly tragic scenario through the eyes of one who had finally had to give up her fight for life, as just out of reach was an air gap the size of a thin plank of wood and – unbelievably tortuous for her – a face kept appearing and calling her name.  My job is heartbreaking but I have to remain focused on clinging to the dowser and allowing the vortex to be ridden by each individual soul in need.  As I looked at my left hand in silhouette against the lighter window, clutching tightly to the swinging crystal, it bizarrely resembled a swan’s neck, head and beak…!  After hundreds of souls had passed safely I fell back into deep slumber.

At 4 am I heard the clock chime,  passed another batch.

At 6.15 am my husband and I were awoken by two loud bangs, 5 seconds apart.  The nearest description is the sound of someone striking an oil drum with a heavy object….Anything to attract me to the next incumbants, which kept my arm held above my heart until just after 7 am, when all went quiet…and stayed quiet until today (Saturday 16th) when the odd one or two who have since died from their injuries or worst, from suffocation, have needed help.  In all, my helpers on the other side tell me that 5,000+ souls had been redirected in this manner…

…MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!





lots of new year’s presence(es)!

1 01 2010

The Christmas and New Year season is always exceptionally busy for ghost rescues – something to do with all the excitement, emotions and family get togethers as well as the pre-holiday stress experienced by most…  This has been a particularly busy time for me and I thought I would share with you one of those episodes in my extraordinary life as a soul rescuer…

Boxing Day saw us visiting family and friends for a slap up dinner, including a previously unintroduced member from Spain.  A great time was had by all, with many cameras and phones being used to take snapshots of the ten of us….I remembered that I’d popped my own digital camera into my coat pocket and slipped out into the hall to retrieve it, taking a few before asking the guest from Spain to smile for his photo.  To my surprise, and his consternation, there was a black mist obliterating his face, as well as two large orbs in the picture….  “Why had this not shown up on anyone elses camera?” he asked…”It is because of my job,” I answered and even though I wasn’t going to ‘come out’ to him and his mother I quickly explained about the dilemma of trapped ghosts…

I had not packed my dowser so, reassuring him that these were spirits who had attached themselves to his energies and were in need of rescue, I took off my (rather heavy!) necklace and hung onto the chain, literally for dear life, as the pendant spun furiously round and round, allowing these accumulated souls to jump into the vortex of light which took them home.    I dowsed him from head to toe and back again, moving 350 spirits and another 170 ten minutes later, which took in his bedroom space.

“Have you been having sleepless nights, headaches, suffering from stress?”  He agreed that he had problems with sleeping and had certainly been suffering from stress…

“Why me?” asked Alan.  I explained that if he was particularly stressed and even psychic he would be attractive to spirits, who could be picked up anywhere he went.  “What  do you mean by psychic?” he asked.

“Well if you are particularly sensitive to energies around you,” I explained, “for example you walk into a room and feel an atmosphere or find yourself avoiding a particularly ‘prickly’ person or attracted to someone with pleasant vibes.  Do you feel close to nature; do you notice things around you?  Are you very empathic; kind; sensitive?  If your chakras (coloured energy centres) are particularly depleted or imbalanced or you are highly stressed then spirits will be drawn to you out of curiousity or quite often just looking for help to move to the light…”

“I’m all  those things!” he said, amazed.

“You’ve got him off to a T,” said his sister-in-law.

We hadn’t noticed the orbs (spirits, both trapped and also spirit helpers from the light who act as guides) until I put the photo onto my laptop and I am waiting for some feedback and permission from him to post that here, so watch this space!   Plenty more stories to come of the hundreds rescued on this first day in 2010!…





colonel samuel colt reunited with his little child

31 12 2009

My husband was reading a copy of the book ARMSMEAR: THE HOME, THE ARM, AND THE ARMORY OF SAMUEL COLT (1866) – The founder of the Colt firearms manufacturing industry – when it suddenly occurred to him to check with me that he and his family were all resting in peace. Indeed, Colonel Colt and his wife and mother had passed safely but one of their children, Elizabeth Jarvis Colt, who died at the tender age of eight months (22.2.1860-17.10.1860),  was still trapped on the earth plane – and as I hooked on to her little spirit she put her arms out to her father, calling from the other side, and cried ‘daddy, daddy!’  As with all spirit rescues, it was very moving….

“She was very young to speak her father’s name…” I commented to Michael.

“It was very tragic,” he said, “as the Colt’s also lost another two children at such a young age: Samuel Jarvis Colt (24.2.1857-24.12. 1857 – 10 months) and Henrietta Selden Colt (23.5.1861-20.1.1862 – 8 months) –  who, tragically, died only 10 days after Samuel Colt himself  (19.7.1814-10.1.1862).  

“I’ve gone all shivery;” said Michael only minutes later…”after what you said about the little girl calling her daddy’s name… It says here, when referring to Samuel Colt’s memorial slab,  ‘what visitors at this grave oftenest think of, regarding the sleeper there, may be, that his sun went down at noon.  Yet, in contrast to the little ones around him, who died before they could say father or mother, how long his date of life, how far his wanderings over the earth, how manifold his experiences, how proud his achievements.’  

“Absolutely extraordinary,” said my darling husband.





souls saved from australia’s bush fires 2009

12 12 2009

Just a quick explanation to those new to the work that I do.  When a person dies in the physical sense, his or her spirit leaves the body to travel back to the light of heaven – the place from which we all originate.  Occasionally that spirit becomes stuck on the earthplane, quite often because of the sudden or tragic nature of their deaths, when they become confused and unable to find their natural way back home into the origin of all spirit.

I have been saving such souls for over a decade and do so on a daily basis.  Today I felt under the weather, as though all energy had been sucked from me – quite common with the huge batches of spirits that are sent my way (via my angelic helpers) pushing on the floodgates, so to speak.  With the help of a dowser (a crystal hanging on a chain, which helps me to source such spirits and follow their course, just as a water diviner searches for pipes or underground springs and has done since time immemorial) I tuned into my spirit guides to check the origin of my unnatural feelings of weakness…

“Erythema…” came the reply, so I checked the dictionary and discovered this is ‘an abnormal redness of the skin’ – Immediately all became clear, as I had no such symptoms:  Last night our son had invited me to view a film in his room …Knowing  (2009)  – an overdue bonding session which I naturally took up, tempted by the fact that it starred Nicolas Cage!  Certain scenes showing the ‘end of the world’ were horrific and a plane crash in particular showed people running from the scene with their clothes burning…. and animals being licked by flames fleeing from the forest…  

In all the time I have been helping lost souls there has been one particular factor which attracts them to my energy field and that is the spritiaul law of the universe that ‘like attracts like’; by merely watching images such as these on the screen, hearing them on a radio or other people’s  conversations I am attracting souls for rescue…

Back to the description ‘erythema’ given to me by my spiritual helpers (who gather my rescuees worldwide in a big net and direct them this way!) the ‘abnormal redness of the skin’ ushered in ‘those who have died in fires’ – and in particular ‘bushfires’…  “Save our souls!” came an impassioned plea from half way across the world…

My dowser set off at a phenominal speed (it spins clockwise as the souls are sucked lovingly into the light) and I held tight for approximately 2 minutes…then did a google search for ‘bushfires in Australia’.  Of the dreadful Victoria fire of February 2009 and the similar Ash Wednesday fire of 1983 (approximately 300 lost their lives in total) x38 souls were still earthbound (including Moiree, the wife of a former TV presenter Brian Naylor – waiting with open arms to receive her alongside him…”Oh my!” she exclaimed)  Another soul joined them from Kinglake, north of Melbourne and another from St Andrews.

After 10 months suffering in pergatory, between this world and the next, these dear souls can at last frolic in new life!





The Seven Dwarfs

22 11 2009

Friday 20th November 2009

It’s been a while since I had time to note my adventures with spirit here but today Michael and I had a day off together and I accompanied him to Warwickshire to a specialist shop where he buys supplies for his hobby, but waited in the car and treated myself to reading a magazine – something ‘normal’ for a change – but I’d only read a page when all the car locks went on with a ‘shunt’ (only a lot quieter than when we do it with the automatic key) .  I was at least a foot away from contact with any of the sides of the car and in any case knew it was an unseen visitor trying to attract my attention. 

His name was ‘Geoffrey from Cirencester’ and he had died of a heart attack whilst on a canal boating holiday….He was a bit peeved because he’d had to follow me from the Inn where we’d just had a scrumpscious meal and I’d helped seven souls whilst ‘sitting on the loo’ (very odd but the ideal time to tune in to them in peace)…At first reluctant to leave, the spokesperson (or spooksperson if you have a sense of humour like mine!) said ‘gor blimey, she can ‘ear what we’re sayin’!’ –  ‘What’s she on about?’ asked another as I explained I coudn’t be sitting here all day …”so if you’d like a lift home, say now.”  ‘We’re quite happy where we are now, thanks…’  (And who could blame them, as the Inn was right alongside the canal and beautiful countryside and there was a lot to entertain them when the place was full of life.) 

“Fine,” I said, pulling up my jeans and flushing the loo.  Then a ‘welcoming party’ appeared from the other side and the first of my visitors jumped to attention, suddenly realising the lock was open in his favour, allowing  his safe passage. “Ere, where’s ‘ee gone?” Errol asked, confused.  “Wait for us!  Come on you lot!” he called and a Lizzy, a ‘Disney’ (cart horse), Wilfred, Ethel, Maureen and Rose all followed Denny across the veil to their golden canal boat in the sky!  I washed my hands with a great sense of satisfaction!

Geoffrey was a bit annoyed because he had obviously missed the boat (he must have been elsewhere at the time and returned to find all his ghostly companions gone and the woman eating her delicious prawn and spinache risotto in the pub obviously held the key to the lock gate!)  He therefore followed us the couple of miles to the shop….”I was on the back seat…a wonder you didn’t see me,” he added as an aside.  Life (and ressurection to new life) is never dull and there’s no such thing as a ‘day off’ in my line of work (which I love!)

I offered them the chance to pass a message through as I typed this and they merely encouraged, ‘hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work you go...!’, Could it be because it was Michael’s turn to drive so I had a catnap on the journey home, (Sleepy?) and was embarrassed because my jaw dropped open like it does when you put your head back on the rest (Bashful)  ‘Dozey’ would also fit, Dopey definitely – and come to think of it I was a bit disgruntled when awoken by the mobile bleeping a message (Grumpy!) …Was there no end to their genius?  I have also been a bit Sneezy lately (nipping a cold in the bud with echinacea and citricidal drops – the latter absolutely disgusting but so effective if you need a miracle cure!) and that only leaves Happy (most certainly!) and Doc – Had they saved the best until last, implying they had all Docked safely at their final mooring?.. And there were 7 of them…..Aah…then of course there was the name of their horse…   Ingenious!   Who says you can’t have a sense of fun when helping souls complete their journeys from one life to the next (helped by Seven helpful Dwarfs in this case)?





eva peron joins us for coffee

5 11 2009

Three of us like-minded ladies met for coffee at our local garden centre and were in full flow with happy banter when the theme tune from Evita suddenly entered my psche, completely irrelevant – it seemed – to what we had been discussing. “Don’t cry for me Argentina….” begged Evita… bringing tears of empathy to my eyeballs.   Thank heaven for toilet cubicles, as I said to the girls ‘I’ve got Eva Peron on the line – I’ll just pop out and help her…’ and pulled my chair back and toddled off to duties of another kind. 

I sat on the toilet seat lid whorling my dowser and tuning in to the tragic and waterlogged soul of Eva, whilst trying to block out the sound of a little one being taken to the toilet by his doting granny in the adjoining cubicle.  Such are the distractions of my work, but nevertheless the impression I gained from this desperate lady was that she was  buried alive beneath a tall dark tower, which loomed above her and contained very negative , masculine and suffocating energy, trapping her so that she was unable to speak her own voice.  There was so much emotion as she was pulled from her pit of darkness, shook her wet hair and rode the waves of love energy home again!

I returned to the girls, grinning with satisfaction that yet another soul had somehow woven her way into our powerful trio of   happiness and asked them if they knew anything about Eva Peron.  The only knowledge we could scrape up between us is that she was obviously from Argentina and that  Madonna has played her part in Evita…

Before checking Eva via the usual web I sat down at the next opportunity and invited her comments (As above, so below!)-

“Facism, extremism, sovereignty – all these accusations were thrown at me (by males) after my death!” she cried.  “I was buried in a deep chamber with no hope of ever seeing the light again.  Thank you dear sister and those who drew me to your likeness.   I am dripping wet with the struggle of humanity’s disdainful addresses towards feminine power and ideology.  I have come home!  I have set my place at God’s table, eaten the bread of my transgressions, taken off the sharp heels of my short life in which I deemed myself to be a saviour for the world of politics, darkness and debauchery of many kinds.  I have licked my wounds.  My soul has risen victoriously!…Open the door and let them have it!”  (…she encouraged me in my work!)

I set to on checking her out via the earthly web and found that she died at the tragically young age of 33 (1919-1952) from cancer (one of our trio had lost her sister from the same dreadful illness, also at a very tender age – could this be what attracted Eva to our triangle?)   I then found that Eva (real name Maria) – although the actress wife of Argentina’s President at the time  – was described as a ‘spiritual leader of the Nation of Argentina’ – Again, both myself and the third of us girls could be described as spiritual leaders in our own right,  holding regular spiritual development groups and the like…

After her body was preserved, fought over, obsessed over and hidden in bizarre places over many years she was finally ‘laid to rest’  in the Duarte vault in Recoleta Cemetery, Buenos aires. Is it relevant that this vault rests beneath layers of  steel and  and 7 metres of concrete? …”I was buried in a deep chamber with no hope of ever seeing the light again.”

There are many interesting websites explaining the tragic life and death of this suffrage who sought to close the gap between the rich and the poor and was worshipped by her country, but Eva’s own words resonated deeply with my own work and ethos – could this be why she joined us for coffee?

‘Even as a little girl I wanted to recite.  It was as though I wished to say something to others, something important which I felt in my deepest heart.” (La Razon de Mi Vida)

 





famous ballerinas dance off the stage of life!

27 09 2009

Like all little girls, I lost myself in a world of ballet, imagining myself dancing the steps, flying effortlessly through the air and oh so elegant.   My best friend Sally Lewis went to ballet lessons and couldn’t wait to pass on the four basic dance steps to me –  I was only 8 years old at the time but I never forgot!  Sally also had 1960’s prints framed all around her bedroom – of the greatest ballerina ever, MARGOT FONTEYN!  

Here I am, 40 odd years later, having been led to check that her spirit is resting in peace, and to my great surprise she was still stuck in limbo on the earth plane!  The extract from my  diary of 3rd april 2009 records the moment our spirits fused in the energy of love  – ‘As I released her spirit she danced ‘like a sylph’ over to the light, speaking French as she did so: “je ne sais quoi…’Il….”  Her voice faded out with a promise to return and speak with me in a universal language.’  Research showed she lived from 1919 unti 1991  – What powerful and energetic dates, and so suited to one who danced so perfectly in between! 

In the meantime, as I read her biography I could not help but check every person mentioned there and upon reading the name OLGA PREOBRAJENSKAYA (1871-62), apparently one of the greatest Russian teachers of the time and best loved ballerina of the Russian Imperial Ballet, my senses buzzed in recognition of another earthbound soul in desperate need of help and as she moved across I saw a thin scarf about her neck, along with a feeling that she could not speak or communicate, so I checked her throat energy and discovered three other souls attached to her who must have been her ghostly companions.  They danced over to an explosion of joy and emotion which Olga could not put into words, so taken aback was she to be reunited with the love of her spiritual home! 

I dipped back into the white surf of spirit to see whether Margot wished to add anything and she again spoke in French: “Tres bien!” then continued in the universal language of the soul….”My heart and my pumps (ballet shoes) beat as one…this is why I could not leave the stage of my life…But then you stepped out of the wings and showed me the way, and I shall be eternally grateful…a perfect par de deux!”   As I typed this, my two yellow canaries stopped their busy goings-on in their bird cage and both stared straight at my head, just as I heard “comment allez vous?” and very comically stayed frozen in twinned astonishment until all 250 lost souls of  ‘travelling performers’ had been reunited with these famous ballerinas via the vortex of love stretching above my head!

Finally Margot showed me her ‘big white tutu’ and laughing with joy she acknowledged that she had finally bowed out of her performance in the perfect dance of life and death, and she blew me a kiss and was gone!  … But not before she threw a beautiful red rose onto the stage of life for all her fans!





kathleen ferrier blows in on a southerly breeze

21 09 2009

My days and nights are so full of soul rescuing and healing that I have been unable to find the time to record some of the more famous spirits here, but just to catch up….

On 21st July 2009 I was followed by a voice so hauntingly beautiful and heart wrenching in its intensity that it brought with it the same emotions which Susan Boyle evoked worldwide…  ‘Blow the wind southerly…’  (Could it be a message from my heavenly team to move south, to be nearer my parents in Cornwall, I wondered?)  I was left to find out for myself as The voice literally haunted me day after day.  Who was this woman? It was obvious that I would have to work for my story; one which I was destined to include in this blog, so I made a start by typing these song words into google, which in turn led me to various video’s on YouTube…

Just imagine how my heart skipped a beat the moment I clapped eyes and ears on to the face and voice of Kathleen Ferrier (1912-1953) and recognised her instantly!  Awash with love and emotion, I realised that I had been led to find the lost spirit of this courageous and talented woman, who had died before I was born.  My face buzzed and tingled as her spirit merged with mine, and those on the other side who had alerted me to her existence as a lost soul gathered round to give her a helping hand.

But she hung on to the Tree of Life with all her might.  Perhaps it was because she had loved life so much?  Perhaps it was because she had died so tragically young at the age of only forty one? Reading her biography she certainly clung tenaciously to this Tree during her life, performing on stage to the last, in spite of her pain from bone cancer.  The gale which now tugged at her hair as she clung to her tree seemed to emulate the song which she so perfectly performed…‘blow the wind southerly, blow bonny breeze oe’r  the bonny blue sea’…(The sea represents the spirit) and yet she still she clung to her memories …‘life, it comes on a deep rolling sea!’   Despite her friends and family beckoning from the other side she would not let go of that tree!

She sang so passionately ‘where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love has been?’   She sang of her love for life itself, for her voice, for her performance and for all those who still admireo her tremendous and powerful talent, through the media of records, dvd’s, books and (soul savingly!) through the wonders of modern website technology!  But heavenly voices blended with her own to take over the concluding words of her love song – ‘the sweet love story that is older than the sea’ and continued encouragingly, ‘we have no answers now but this much we can say, He fills our hearts with ver special things, with Angels’ sounds and wild imaginings’…‘She fills our souls with so much love that everywhere we blow we’re never lonely!’

This time, she willingly reconnected to her spiritual home:

She reached for their hands: they’re always there…





Another Kennedy joins the clan on the other side!

9 09 2009

After reading that Senator Edward Kennedy died this week (aged 77)  after losing his battle with brain cancer I had to check his spiritual progress… of course!  I was delighted to find him in good spirits (ha ha) and reunited with his recently passed sister Eunice, as well as the rest of the Kennedy Dynasty in Spirit and a “Norma Jean” –  until now I had not realised this was the real name of Marilyn Monroe!  – A friend of both assassinated Kennedy brothers John and Robert, there was a whisper of scandal in 1962 when she died from an overdose in suspicious circumstances, having sang ‘happy birthday’ to Edward shortly before her death.  In 1969 there was more tragedy as a Mary Jo Kopechne accidentally drowned whilst in a car driven by him.  However, despite those who still cannot feel it in their hearts to give him the benefit of the doubt, all three souls have been reconciled in the ‘ForeverAfter’ and Edward came across as a charming man whose only light-hearted comment was “sock it to ’em baby!” 

There was also a surprise rescue mission or two coming up….

Eunice had discovered that her sister Rosemary was not safely with the rest of the clan on the other side and as I tuned in to find this confused and lost soul she was sucked into the tunnel of light in an instant, and all I saw was her ecstatic reunion with her kin as she stepped exhuberantly from a wheelchair and was guided gently to a place of healing. 

Follow up research revealed that Rosemary Kennedy was the third child and first daughter of the Kennedy’s, born only a year after her brother JFK in 1918.  She died in her eighties in 2005 and had therefore been stuck in her ghostly form for four years.  Apparently,  she had undergone a controversial lobotomy at the age of only 23 and, so tragically, became mentally incapacitated for the rest of her lifetime, which may explain why I saw her rise, victorious, from her wheelchair!

Quite interestingly, she just passed the message “I forgive them all!”





See www.janehuntingsdiary.wordpress.com for daily ghosts!

31 08 2009




Kennedy clan in mourning

26 08 2009

Daily Telegraph headline Weds 12 Aug 09 said ‘Kennedy clan in mourning. Eunice Kennedy Shriver JFK’s sister, dies aged 88’ (JFK features in my soon to be published book Ghostwriters in the Sky) so I checked her status. She passed peacefully and quickly to the other side…”Yes thankyou my dear…very happy! Keep up the good work!” She was a champion for people with intellectual disabilities, mother in law to Arnold Schwarzenegger, California’s Republican Governor – so now you know!





Genghis Kahn still in limbo after 782 years!

31 07 2009

Everyone has heard of his name, but like me, do you have any idea who he is?!

A few days ago my daughter asked ‘is Genghis Kahn resting in peace mum?’ but she didn’t let on why she wanted to know, so I naturally stopped what I was doing and whisked my dowser from my pocket ….and the spirit of this man was dangling at the end, stuck in purgatory, worming his way out from a ‘mountainside grave’!

Several other Tibetan soldiers followed, then there was a pause as my spirit guides sought out those connected with him and also in need of rescue.

The portal of light through which they were sucked opened wider as many unsuspecting ghostly soldiers and warriors , many stuck in a moment of vicious battle and sudden death,  joined the throng – an unusual sight as I glimpsed several bare feet under robes moving up and away from me into the vacuum of love – bizarrely as though they had stripped to their underwear!  Were they buried in white robes I wondered?

A pause gave me a head count of between 12-1300 of these ghostly soldiers, as well as another x72  ‘warriors’!

More and more were guided through until by the end of the day we were topping the million!!!

Of course, I had to find out more about Genghis Kahn himself and discovered he was in fact the Emporor of the Mongol Empire, the largest empire in history!

A day of so later I asked my spiritual guides whether Kahn had anything he wished to say, not expecting much.  His first comment was ‘staid middle class’ – Was he referring to me?  I hope not! 

My Empire!” he called back in stilting English.  He bowed with deep respect. “Stability needed.” came the short message.  “Going wrong.  Stubborn (he paused to think of the word) ass? (and showed me a ‘mule’)  It was easier for him to show me than to speak through a translator and what I saw was a long robed oriental gentleman dancing in bare feet and holding ‘light sticks’ aloft  (enlightenment) ….and believe it or not he was joined by THE GROUCHO BROTHERS!  (Who feature heavily in my new book and were obviously demonstrating that no matter what creed or crime, we are all brothers and sisters in light!)

I never did find out why his name suddenly popped into my daughter’s mind – perhaps it is a case of ‘like mother like daughter’?

My guides popped back after I’d typed this page onto my blog with ‘Samuri and Japanese warfare’ and off we went again…….





Ghosts of the Irish Famine

31 07 2009

I read that between 1845 and 1848 a MILLION Irish people starved to death or died as a result of epidemics and that a further 1.5 million emigratedbecause of the unbearable living conditions and the fact that the country was depopulated:
Strange you should mention it as in the 1860’s the biggest ethnic group after Americans were Irish” said my husband, his nose in a favourite book. “30% of the 7th Cavalry,who fought with General Custer (RIP) in the Battle of the Little Big horn were Irish. (The Indian Wars) This means that approximately 80 of 260 who died were therefore Irish!”

Naturally, I dowsed for any lost souls from the above as well as the million who died during the famine, and 376 passed.  THEY GATHERED IN LANES AND FIELDS, PINPOINTS OF LIGHT WHICH JOINED THE ONE MAIN BEAM SENT TO PICK THEM UP AND TAKE THEM HOME….! Such JOY!  The END OF THEIR SUFFERINGS! ^i^





Ghosts have Feelings too…Lyndon B Johnson (1908-1973) included!

23 07 2009

Monday 20 July 2009

Unable to sleep because of severe shooting pains in my right foot, I cupped it in my hands and sent myself healing. Immediately a  face appeared to my right (I had my eyes closed) ; a big masculine face, frowning deeply through strong dark eyebrows, thin dark strands of hair falling in damp spindles over his sweaty forehead. He floated there in the void for an age as I waited for an introduction which never came. Who is he? I asked my spiritual guides.  By his tortured expression he was in the throes of agony and I had to help him. Still grasping my right foot, I allowed his name to float to me;:

“Who was Lyndon B Johnson again?” I asked my husband as I opened the vortex of light so that my spirit visitor could find his way home. (The ghosts of six hundred and sixty soldiers also rushed into the vortex alongside him, one of whom had been ‘shot in the foot.’)

“Oh, he was one of the presidents of the United States: Responsible, I think, for the escalation in the Vietnam war…” Perhaps this explained the soldiers who passed with him? Perhaps he had gathered the ghosts of this terrible, grueling conflict together to bring them for help, which would explain the beads of sweat dripping from his frowning forehead? Perhaps he felt he had to pay his penance?

How ironic that the 36th President of the United States should be wandering in purgatory for 36 years!  It transpires that he succeeded the assassinated John F Kennedy, someone who contributed to Ghost Writers in the Sky. Who says that this Blog is not Spirit Led?

“He and I are buddies…” came Johnson and Kennedy’s twinned voices from the other side!

“Why did  LBJ remain earthbound after his death all those years ago? I asked.

“I couldn’t stand the conflict; I couldn’t face myself; the guilt…the shame” (Ironically, he died the same day as a ceasefire was signed by Vietnam) As he spoke, several soldiers in combats patted him reassuringly on his big shoulders and he shed a tear for the compassion which now surrounds him: The unconditional love and forgiveness that is wending its way into the ‘hole’ of the world.

Another two lost souls were ‘sent for’ and joined LBJ – ‘Pappy’ O’Daniel’, who it turns out was W Lee O’Daniel (1890-1969), the Governor of Texas at the time Johnson ran for the Senate in 1941 and Senator Richard Russell (1897-1971) When asked what kept them earthbound, the former joked he was ‘old and crusty’ (he was once part of a group named the Doughboys!) and the latter ‘Devotion to Duty – Here I Am!’ –

“Here we are again; happy as can be!’’
PLEASE RETURN IN A DAY OR TWO FOR MORE SPIRIT BLOGS!





What if Spirits could Blog?

9 07 2009

DECEASED FAMOUS  personalities past and present speak to Jane Hunting in order to enlighten the world on life FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A GHOST and WHAT LIES BEYOND DEATH…

Who is resting in Peace? Who is in need of spirit rescue? What messages do they have for the world?
WATCH THIS SPACE!





Ghost of British Comic Actor Arthur Askey and Film Director Val Guest rescued!

7 07 2009

This evening I sent remote healing to a client and noticed that below the naval she was freezing – a sure sign that she was releasing lots of childhood trauma – but it was her heart that was crying out to be cleared.

A total of 102 earthbound spirits were released from here in a frenzy of activity and ahead of the queue was British comic Arthur Askey (1900-1982)! 

“All hail to the Queen!  God save the Queen,”  someone called back only minutes after his release,  leaving me confused.  He had been stuck in limbo for 27 years after dying in London of unspecified causes – but he did have his legs amputated due to a circulation problem and maybe this was the reason I felt frozen energy around my client’s lower body? 

I later checked to make sure he had made it safely among the scrabble of other ‘troupers’ and I wasn’t disappointed.  Knowing I planned to blog him he said: 

“Forget it – It’s a non-starter!”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Anyone who remembers me can read it from up ‘ere!”  he laughed.  “Disgraceful!”

“What is?”

“Politicians!…That’s the buzzword now isn’t it?  They should earn an honest crust, just like I had to!”  (Proving that ghosts can keep track of the latest news!)  “Lizzy’s here!  Queen Lizzy I used to call her!” (His wife’s name was Elizabeth and died in 1974, going straight over to the other side, as most of us do) 

 I asked whether his leg amputation had anything to do with him staying earthbound. 

“It’s bloody awful hobbling about without me legs.  You try it! It helped me keep my nose to the ground though,” he laughed – willing and able to laugh at his own expense, even after death! 

Imagine my amazement when I found that he served in WWI and that the ‘troupers’ he moved over with also included ‘troopers’ – comrades who had not yet passed – plus another special ‘Guest Star’, Valmond Grossman (known as Val Guest – 1911-2006), a London born film director who died in California.  And the connection with Askey?  He wrote a film that Askey appeared in (1941) – and it just happens to have been called – THE GHOST TRAIN ! 

And as for “All hail to the Queen!  – Could this be because in the 1970’s  a joke was banded about by Private Eye that as he was only just over 5 feet tall he might be mistaken for the Queen Mother in drag? All at once I was enlightened!  His wife just happened to be called Elizabeth but so, obviously, was the Queen Mother! –  “Lizzy’s here!  Queen Lizzy I used to call her!”  Well! 

“Keep up the good work…” Her Majesty waved gently with yet another white gloved hand!

 





What does Jacko have to say from heaven? And Farrah Fawcett?

4 07 2009

Friday 26 June 2009

My son asks me if I’ve heard the news ‘about ‘Whacko Jacko’.

“Who?” (That’s how little I know about pop idols)

“He’ll be a good one for your book…” he said, but I resisted checking to see whether Michael Jackson’s spirit had flown.   It was too much of an assignment to handle as far as I was concerned..

Later on that morning I drive my children to IKEA when suddenly my face feels as though it has been jammed into a bucket of jellyfish! Jacko’s spirit is being diverted to me for assistance!  As soon as we arrive I go and hide in a toilet cubicle to speak to the childhood image I have seen of Michael Jackson playing in his own Neverland… Why would he seek me out?  I see an image of the Earth from the perspective of a child laying in the grass and realise this is the only place he feels truly happy.  He needs help to leave so I boost his energy and he lands safely in ‘nirvana’!

“Don’t stop me now!” he sings, twirling on his fantastic feet, and Queen’s song continues: “I’m having a good time!”  Then the record suddenly changes – “Yippee I Oh!  Yippee I Ay! Ghost Writers in the Sky!”  It is Jim Morrison, giving me a new name for their book! (This member of Doors appears in chapter 31 of Ghost Writers in the Sky – SOON TO BE PUBLISHED)

9 pm BUZZ!  Jackson is back in my spiritual inbox and there is not a moment to waste as I grab my notepad and scribble his words as they come:

“I like England!  It is very pretty.  Lambs skip in the fields.  Primroses.  Daffodils.  Pride!”

I hear an organ play; Church music….

Argh,, look what they’ve done to the world.  Isn’t it sad? Iconic status granted me but I am just like you and everyone else – all human beings with spirit which has broken off and floated away from the Godhead.  All born to be geniuses:  White suits?…We all own one!  Lift up your chins.  Be proud of your selves; your every achievement.”

“Is this Jacko?” I ask, just to be sure.

“Yes! Blog me!  My suit was ruined.  My pants torn.  My crown ripped from my head.  But I was innocent of all those charges laid before me.  I love.  I love my children.  I am love.  You are love.  We are all of the one Father.  Tweed suits?  Dirty suits?  White suits?  What colour suits you?   Look at yourselves.  Look what you’ve done to the world.  Isn’t it sad?”

I hear ‘grotto’ and ‘escapism’ and ‘slide onto your butts!’ and suddenly a tornado of spirits is sucked up as my dowser swirls on and on and on releasing over 6,000 spirits.  Jacko is ahead of them, leading them aboard “the Noah’s Ark.” – ‘Poor, rich, goslings of the golden son, flea bitten, vagrants, tramps, bums, waifs and strays.’

Jackson shows me his gloved hand and points a white finger straight at my nose (at the end of which the psychic chakra is situated).  He swirls a nifty two step, “a neat move’” and places a crown on my head.  He is gone.  

***STOP PRESS***

 29 August 2009 I ask him about the truth behind newspaper allegations that his death was due to negligence on the part of his doctor.  His reply?  “I forced him!”    

What of 1970’s iconic actress FARRAH FAWCETT, who died of cancer age 62 around the same time?

Upon checking that she is indeed resting in peace she replies with a simple:

      “Yes thank you.  God Bless you in all your timely work.” 

Friday 3 July 2009

The black thunder clouds which have gathered after a blistering hot week carry earthbound spirits from around the world who set off our Mondeo car alarm at 7.20 am and intermittently throughout most of the day.   Millions of souls are carried via the torrential rain (water is a conductor for spirit) and I spend hour upon hour moving them onwards and upwards.





What if Spirits could blog?

30 06 2009

What if the spirits of famous people who have died and passed from this life could switch on a heavenly TV channel, watch a repeat of their old favourite programme entitled ‘Life on Earth During any Century’  aind were then able to blog their comments via a medium so that their views were distributed worldwide? 

What if a spirit lived in the 17th or other centuries?  Could they still pass messages through even though they have never heard of blogs, televisions or telephones?  For all these answers and more WATCH THIS BLOG!!!!

The owner of this site has taken it upon herself to channel such information whenever it is received into her ‘spiritual inbox’.  She has been receiving blogs from famous spirit people for a decade now and has decided to go public in order to advertise the book that has been channeled via Sir Walter Scott and hundreds of other well known writers, poets, comediens, actors, artists, singers, dancers, world leaders and more… SOON TO BE PUBLISHED!

This is a message site for famous spirits: People who have died and successfully crossed to the other side!   THEY WANT TO SPEAK TO THE WORLD!

CLEMENT FREUD (1924 – 2009) 

15 APRIL 2009  Clement  Freud died yesterday and in an instant I stopped in my tracks and dowsed for his still earthbound spirit: Before I could speak it registered his spirit taking off from the physical plane and as he landed safely on the other side he said dryly: 

“It’s over.”

Cottoning on to his droll humour, I was not particularly surprised when he said with a straight face and in a monotone voice:

“Tell them I’m happy: I’m smiling.” 

He pulled the corners of his mouth to the edge of his face to demonstrate “the act of smiling’”

His spirit then left my spiritual Inbox.   It was over in a flash and the thought fleetingly crossed my mind that perhaps I should not have intervened so quickly; after all, he had 3 months to think about it? (After which his spirit would lose direction and he would need assistance)  Clement was back on the line, anxious to speak to the world again:

“What did you die of?” came my involuntary but habitual question.

“Revoltinism” came the reply from Freud’s still active brainwaves.

“A combination,” he said “of revolting old age and revolutionary wit and sarcasm.”

“Really?”  I laughed.

“Also possessivitis….but time is running out I’m afraid” –  and the song Jennifer Juniper played, with the emphasis on ‘June’….  “Tell her I love her!”  (This turns out to be his wife)

19 April 2009 Am drawing my bedroom curtains and mindful of the overcast weather we’ve experienced over the past few days when Freud’s voice (from the other side) interrupts my thoughts:

“The weather for me has been a little inclement I must say…” (Surprisingly, he passes wind loudly and says “Pardon.”)  “I had to spit out a lot of pips in my time (Clement-time) but on the whole I was sweet and juicy.  I was required to divide myself into many segments to be sucked upon; sometimes quite sour and in need of spitting out, also… (repetition of ‘spit’ being carefully avoided please note carefully)…  Remnants got stuck in the teeth of many who were brave enough to challenge me…Jaw dropping audiences included…”

Of his ‘revoltinism’ of 4 days ago he now wishes to add “decrepitism” telling me that “it comes from the Greek ‘decrepitus’, which alludes to one sliding off one’s water butt and into the deep chasm of oblivion…”   I let him continue:

“Barney is here.”  He pats a stone tablet beside him and a large loose skinned dog bounces up to sit alongside.  “Say hello to the nice lady;” he says”-  She’s going to make you famous too!”

Back to his po-faced anachronism he says:

“It’s time to read the newspaper obituaries and see what they are saying about me. “ He turns the pages and reads a selection of words…”sarcasm; genius; wit; flair; comradeship; county borders (?)” (He laughs)  He passes me an envelope “for my missus” and asks me to gives it to her.    “It is quite bizarre really…”

“What is?”

“This colourful bazaar of infidels, morons and manic depressives…”

“Are you referring to the characters in my Book?” (Soon TO BE PUBLISHED see www.janehunting.co.uk )

“I can’t think why one would want to read such trash,” he said, turning to Barney and saying “pass me a copy” (ha ha). “Whoops; it’s out of print!…” (Barney shows me a paw print on the cover.)

Of course, I look up ‘decrepitus’ in the dictionary, which leads me to de crepitus: ‘the noise produced by a sudden discharge of wind from the bowels’ – explaining Freud’s windy re-entry noise.  He and Barney fall off their stools, laughing.

“Crepitus was also the Roman god of flatulence,” he enlightens me.  “Seriously.”

Researching in earnest, I soon discover through Wikipedia Mythology that ‘the earliest mention of a god of flatulence is somewhat obscure’ and that it is possible that the existence of this god is an invention. No ancient polytheistic source appears for such a deity.’  But then it goes on to say ‘The earliest mention of a god of flatulence is as an Egyptian, not a a Roman deity.  This comes from the hostile pen of the author of RECOGNITIONS’ and now Clement and Barney dance for joy as I reach the line…  ‘dubiously attributed to POPE CLEMENT!

And following the link to RECOGNITIONS the first words that came up were Clementine Literature’!

This surely proves that Freud has access to the still living’s past present and future records and that all this is Meant To Be!  He knew before I did that I would follow his leads!

“Roll out the barrel!” came the encouraging rendition from above, as others queued to speak through their very own SPIRIT BLOG!

 I8 May 2009 Awake in the early hours with JOHN LENNON (1940-80) in my spiritual viewfinder, who salutes and sings YELLOW SUBMARINE – “We all live in a yellow submarine’” (Paul McCartney and John Lennon recorded this on  May 26th and June 1st 1966).

Lennon’s mission?  To educate us on the workings of the spirit.  Whether you are still alive on earth or your spirit has returned to the faster vibrating energy of ‘the other side’ your spirit can still travel during sleep or deep relaxation (as borne out by many spiritual teachers past and present and in ‘our ‘new book)  His old buddy, British actor JOHN CLIVE (born 1938) – a member of the cast who played John’s voice in Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in July 1968 – is also SURFING THE SPIRITUAL WAVES and I tune in to make sure he is in his ‘rightful place’….

“Thanks ma’am…It’s like I’ve been going round and round in a ‘revolving’ door… Now I’m swimming along happily!’”  (Indicating we can rest our brains from the frantic circle of what’s on our human minds whilst asleep and awaken refreshed)  

“You are most welcome!” I reply.

Next I bump into the mind waves of actor LANCE PERCIVAL (born 1933) who tells me “I also starred in Johnno’s film playing the voice of ‘old Fred’!  He does not, however, need rescuing (I don’t always know whether who I bump into is still alive on the earth plane) and informs me:

“I was just roamin in the gloamin’I’ve got me teef in now!’’

WATCH THIS SPACE FOR NEWS FROM JACKO!! …

Friday 26 June 2009

My son asks me if I’ve heard the news ‘about ‘Whacko Jacko’.

“Who?” (That’s how little I know about pop idols)

“He’ll be a good one for your book…” he said, but I resisted checking to see whether Michael Jackson’s spirit had flown.   It was too much of an assignment to handle as far as I was concerned..

Later on that morning I drive my children to IKEA when suddenly my face feels as though it has been jammed into a bucket of jellyfish! Jacko’s spirit is being diverted to me for assistance!  As soon as we arrive I go and hide in a toilet cubicle to speak to the childhood image I have seen of Michael Jackson playing in his own Neverland! Why would he seek me out?  I see an image of the Earth from the perspective of a child laying in the grass and realise this is the only place he feels truly happy.  He needs help to leave so I boost his energy and he lands safely in ‘nirvana’!

“Don’t stop me now!” he sings, twirling on his fantastic feet, and Queen’s song continues: “I’m having a good time!”  Then the record suddenly changes – “Yippee I Oh!  Yippee I Ay! Ghost Writers in the Sky!”  It is Jim Morrison, giving me a new name for their book! (This member of Doors appears in chapter 31 of Ghost Writers in the Sky – SOON TO BE PUBLISHED)

9 pm BUZZ!  Jackson is back in my spiritual inbox and there is not a moment to waste as I grab my notepad and scribble his words as they come:

“I like England!  It is very pretty.  Lambs skip in the fields.  Primroses.  Daffodils.  Pride!”

I hear an organ play; Church music….

Argh,, look what they’ve done to the world.  Isn’t it sad? Iconic status granted me but I am just like you and everyone else – all human beings with spirit which has broken off and floated away from the Godhead.  All born to be geniuses:  White suits?…We all own one!  Lift up your chins.  Be proud of your selves; your every achievement.”

“Is this Jacko?” I ask, just to be sure.

“Yes! Blog me!  My suit was ruined.  My pants torn.  My crown ripped from my head.  But I was innocent of all those charges laid before me.  I love.  I love my children.  I am love.  You are love.  We are all of the one Father.  Tweed suits?  Dirty suits?  White suits?  What colour suits you?   Look at yourselves.  Look what you’ve done to the world.  Isn’t it sad?”

I hear ‘grotto’ and ‘escapism’ and ‘slide onto your butts!’ and suddenly a tornado of spirits is sucked up as my dowser swirls on and on and on releasing over 6,000 spirits.  Jacko is ahead of them, leading them aboard “the Noah’s Ark.”  ‘Poor, rich, goslings of the golden son, flea bitten, vagrants, tramps, bums, waifs and strays.’

Jackson shows me a white gloved hand and points a white finger straight at my nose (at t the end of which the psychic chakra is situated).  He swirls a nifty two step, “a neat move’” and places a crown on my head.  He is gone.    

What of 1970’s iconic actress FARRAH FAWCETT, who died of cancer age 62 around the same time?

Upon checking that she is indeed resting in peace she replies with a simple:

      “Yes thank you.  God Bless you in all your timely work.” 

Friday 3 July 2009

The black thunder clouds which have gathered after a blistering hot week carry earthbound spirits from around the world who set off our Mondeo car alarm at 7.20 am and intermittently throughout most of the day.   Millions of souls are carried via the torrential rain (water is a conductor for spirit) and I spend hour upon hour moving them onwards and upwards.  

 





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25 06 2009
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