From little fairies to a naked man ~ all in a day’s spirit rescue work!

26 06 2013

Enroute to Calke Abbey on 10th June, Mike and I travelled along the A453, being widened by diggers ripping into the adjacent fields like metal monsters, acres of green fields turned brown with soil to be smothered in concrete roads. When we reached the end of this road I felt my eyes physically trying to cross, so crowded had my third eye become with emotional, spiritual and psychic stress emanating from the land and the spirits whose playground was being bulldozed: forty one of these nature spirits being transmuted to the light of their origin and leaving me with a fortification spectrum migraine that didn’t disperse until we reached the Ladies toilet of Calke Abbey, where I was able to remove tons more emotion stuck to my third eye along with another huge batch of fairies. This time I could see little children with wings: disturbed and murdered fairy folk 😦

Having cleared lost souls at Calke Abbey in Derbyshire many years ago, I didn’t expect to find any more in need of help on this later visit …but I was wrong! Perhaps it was because there were hardly any human visitors to the house and so the few shy lost ones were able to approach me without disturbance.

The first room in the Abbey is crammed full of stuffed animal heads ~ a common sight in Victorian days which does not sit right with us in modern times. Completely alone with my husband, I was able to dowse all the beautiful creatures for any souls that had not crossed the veil after their deaths. The magnificent creatures included stags, bulls and pretty-faced cattle. NINETEEN of these were not resting in peace.

The Trust volunteers, completely oblivious to my rescue mission, smiled sweetly and ushered us into the next room ~ where there were more of the same. “The family collected specimens from around the estate and also from all over the world; it was what they did,” explained the next Guide, when we expressed our distaste. Only two of these hundreds of souls needed help this time.

Yet another room, mostly stuffed birds, and two needing help. In a courtyard leading to the tea room (yes! :-)) we stopped to peek into a Tack room. I immediately connected to the spirit of a pony named Ginger and moved him over.

In a stone tunnel leading to the huge kitchen and servants’ quarters I jumped to see a naked man spirit on all fours scuttling in the cold and dark, trying to hide; debased and debauched and in need of love and tenderness. He was described as a ‘faggot’ and the imprint of his life’s experiences were unrepeatable. (Mike told me a faggot is an old term for a homosexual and in Oscar Wilde’s time, for example, it was illegal and resulted in the latter being jailed.)

In yet another quiet stairway leading to a bathroom and general storage room with children’s toys I met a young boy William ~ who was only interested in drinking his ‘Tizer’; a fizzy pop drink of the ‘fifties and ‘sixties. All in a day’s work! ❤








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