Posts Tagged ‘shade’
Often my wife has to work away from home. She gets to visit places the length and breadth of these islands, which has broadened her own horizons considerably. As a lone traveller, though, apart from the solitary travel there is also the feeling of being in a new place on your own – it’s not always a liberating experience. Of course we stay in touch as all modern couples do, but sometimes there’s an extra touch required.
Now, usually I keep my work separate from my ‘ordinary’ life. Occasionally the opportunity arises for the two worlds to cross over, and I am now happy for that to happen because it is sometimes less profitable to keep them apart. After all, this is the year that I am being more authentic, so I need to begin to practise the skills I have been taught.
Which brings me to this incident. If you stay in hotel rooms a lot you will have come across this phenomenon for sure. The feeling that there’s something in the room with you. That somebody perhaps left something of themselves in the room. In older hotels and boutique places that use old artefacts to create ambience, sometimes the items in the room carry the energetic attachments of previous owners.
M called me to have our usual evening chat from her hotel in Swansea, South Wales. Did she have a nice night’s stay in her posh room, I asked? No, terrible, she responded. I was surprised because I thought that the hotel was away from the usual city-centre hubbub and that there weren’t many guests at this time of year anyway. What had disturbed her – air conditioning, radiator pipes, televisions blaring, or the sirens of ambulances and police cars? None of the above. Instead she told me of crazy strong dreams, turbulent thoughts that she didn’t feel were her own, and a feeling of a presence in certain places around the room.
I offered to help her out. This was a good chance to get to know my new spirit guide better.I asked M to send me photos of the places that she felt were “wrong” and I would see what I could glean from the pictures, and then decide what to do remotely from then on. Minutes later three photos came though in separate e-mails. I examined each one in turn.
I have nightmares so rarely that I could probably count them on one hand. Last night was one such occasion. I awoke about 4am with a start. I had been in a house that I recognised from memory. The film that the house (in my dream) was from was called The Amityville Horror. Have you seen it? It is the story of a house (or a spirit living in the house) that terrorized the occupiers. A bit scary back in the day, not so much now. Anyway I hadn’t seen the film for years so why was it occupying my dreams or indeed my nightmare?
Let’s skip back a few hours to the evening before.
I was visiting with an old friend of mine, Rob. He’s moved to the other side of the country but was visiting his folks and had dropped me a line. I would never say No to Rob, the guy is a rare intellectual who loves to (or rather loved to) explore the paranormal. Years ago we rolled together for a few years. Anyway I met up with Rob and he told me that an old friend of his had called him up about a poltergeist haunting that was begging to be investigated. Now, I don’t do that kind of thing anymore but a few months ago I came up with some interesting theories of my own on that subject matter so I was amenable to go a ghost hunting with my ol’ pal.
Going back a few hours, we arrived in a quiet neighbourhood just as it was going dark…spooky…Me, Rob and Sylvia. I had never met Sylvia but kind-of liked her straight away she has a good aura (I think/feel). The house was a large one with 6 bedrooms and 8 rooms downstairs (inc two conservatories). The family that lived there consisted of three generations, Grandma, Mr and Mrs, and 4 children aged 22, 18, 14 and 12. As I was introduced to the family, I paid particular attention to the younger children, knowing the theories about poltergeist and pubescent children. Rob knew this too and he gave me a knowing nod as we were led into one of the living rooms.
I have had some experience with this type of ghost. Poltergeist is a well established type of ghost. For those not of a German tongue, the word means noisy ghost. Which is quite an apt name as that is what such a beastie is known for. Banging around a house, moving things, making things disappear and appear (apports). They have even been known to throw people around. A good distinction to make about such ghosts is that they have never, or very rarely known to harm people (even the ones that have thrown people around). Another important piece of research about such phenomena is that they are thought not to be the spirit of a dead person. It is more likely that they are a ball of energy that is being pushed around by the sub-conscious of a pubescent child. An excellent book on the matter is Poltergeist by Colin Wilson (it’s a bit old. 70′s I think, but is still the definitive work on the matter).
We were here to investigate whether this house was haunted and if it was haunted, by what. The suspect was a poltergeist because of the phenomena that had been observed. Examples of incidents were furniture moving, A really bad smell, glasses breaking in the kitchen, homework vanishing. As is normal with such cases many of the incidents were only observed after the fact or through the corner of one’s eye. I have a perfect example of this kind of thing from my own personal experience…
It was about 18/20 years ago when I was deep in the throws of paranormal investigations and had the fortune to investigate a really active poltergeist haunting. The house was a normal terraced house and in fact had been in the local paper as being haunted to the point of driving the occupier out of the home. That was how I had initially heard of it and was excited to investigate it….come on! Driving the householders out of their home! Definitely going there!
Anyway whilst walking around the home on my initial visit I was walking past the kitchen when I saw (felt?) some movement through the corner of my eye in the kitchen. I looked in sharply and was startled to see a column of knives and forks standing end to end on a table, making a tower of them that came clattering down as soon as I had observed them. Almost (I thought at the time) as if they had been set up by the poltergeist just for my benefit.
Rob and Sylvia quizzed the family about what kinds of experiences they had had and what times, who had been home etc, whilst I (being the only dowser in our group) wandered the rooms and hallways in search of the beastie. It is a testament to how far I have come over the years, because back in the day I would never have wandered the halls on my lonesome. Armed with a really awesome energy shield and an intuitive sense that seems to be going from strength to strength I had no worries.
In this final part of our two-day trip to Iona I will tell you a quick story about an incident that was indeed quite incidental to the rest of the pilgrimage. Pilgrimage? Is that what I’m calling this now? I supose it was, really. I was visiting the land formerly walked by druids, and which was once studded with megalithic sites and groves. Anyway, in this post I will tell you about a small piece of spirit release work that I did in passing, as it were.
St Columba’s Hotel
Kal and I had been speaking with an American couple over drinks and cakes at the St.Columba Hotel. They were due to go for dinner at 7:30pm, and we had kept them talking since about 3pm! It was a most gentle-tempered and highly educated conversation considering our relative viewpoints. Chuck was a preacher from the Christian tradition, and his wife Connie was equally well-versed in such teachings. Kal and I, on the other hand, were doing our best to generalise our opinions and thoughts such that we didn’t offend the couple with any hint of paganism, yet I’m sure they guessed with the un-subtle hints that I gave during the course of the discussions. I can’t help myself sometimes. At one point I mentioned something about a knight in reference to Kal and he shot dark daggers at me across the table. I giggled. The couple were very liberal, anyway, well-spoken and delightful company too.
I had agreed to use the one phone box on the island to call my wife at 6:30, because mobile reception was so poor on the island (I had once called her from the top of Dun I because Kal noticed a signal!). So at 6:15 I made my excuses and left, heading out into the wind and gloom that covered the island at this time of the evening. It would be dark soon, but I would be back in the hotel by then, I thought. I made my call and reassured M that I wouldn’t miss the morning ferry. Apparently I have ‘a habit of doing that’ (which means that ONCE I missed one, therefore I can never be trusted to catch any more ferries ever again).
The village was deserted and the light was fading as I began to walk back up the hill on the only road, the one which would take me back to the hotel and relative warmth (and beer – don’t forget the beer!). It was twilight – the space between day and night, and gap between two worlds. I wondered if I should take the route through the Nunnery which would also take me past St.Ronan’s Chapel? Something suggested I should, so I turned into the grounds and switched on my ‘etheric radar’ to see if there was anything mooching around at this time of the evening.
As I walked along the path I felt a little tug on my ‘scanner’. Something was about twenty feet away to my left, somewhere at the back end of the Nunnery. Of course, I went to see what it was.
I had a chain of sites in mind for Imbolc this year. Kal and I had already gone through the list and dowsed an order or preference based upon the energetic requirements of the people who would be there – Kal, Mike and myself. For Kal the important sites would be Lud’s Church and St Helen’s Well. For myself and Mike the important site would be The Bridestones. In addition I wanted to show Kal Clulow Cross too, but then I sprung a surprise on everyone. Marton Chapel near Congleton, Cheshire would be our first site.
For some reason I needed to go to Marton Chapel. I didn’t know why but something about it appealed to me. I don’t even remember how I came across the name of this church. Somehow, in some research one evening, the name appeared. The name had been written down on a piece of paper for several weeks now, but Imbolc felt like the time to pay the place a visit. I dowsed some possible reasons for going, using educated and intuitive guesses to get the questions. The result was that I believed I might meet with the shade (the emergetic remainder) of someone who wanted to speak with me. How odd! Really? I was curious, but also cautious, and checked to see whether this was a good idea. The dowsing rods told me it was. OK – let’s do it and see what happened!
Grounding and smiling
As we pulled into the churchyard I could see that this was at least going to be a wonderful photograph. The clear blue Winter sky formed a perfect backdrop for the quaint timber-framed church building. It was delightful and the moods of the assembled companions – Mike, Kal and I – could not have been merrier. I wandered for a moment but then felt like I was being drawn to one of the yew trees near the rear end of the church – it’s eastern end. I found a clear spot beneath the tree and knew this was the position. I got my dowsing rods out and walked back a few paces. In all innocence and with the most objectivity I could muster I asked for the best place for me to be right now – I was led in a tight curl back to the place I had been standing. This was the strongest energy point for me.
Seconds later Kal turns up and confirms the spot as the strongest, but says that all the shades have been drawn into the tree by its incredible strength. Already I knew what he was talking about. I could feel the pulling momentum of the tree as it was drawing energy into its trunk and down through its roots. To say that Yew trees are excellent at energy grounding is akin to saying that the sky was blue. Mike was also interested in the tree, offering a different perspective on proceedings by confirming the strength of the attractive power, and adding that it is generating a “happy”, “laughter” energy. It did feel good to stand beneath its branches, that was undeniable. We all were smiling just by being close to it. We were being grounded and cleansed, and that felt good.
Last month I visited one of Manchester’s north-eastern satellite towns called Shaw.I went on a whim, and had map-dowsed the place I should go to, only to find that it had family connections – my grandparents had lives there. I remember visiting my grandmother in Shaw, but my grandfather had died before I was born, so I never knew him except via a photograph. When I got there I was directed to go and meet with the shade of my grandfather. He told me that he had a special message for me, and that I would need to return just before Samhain in order to obtain the information.
I waited eagerly until close to the fated time and then began to get twitchy – when would the day be best to do this? I dowsed it out and found that Wednesday 26th October would be the ideal date, and then the energy associated with this task would wane very quickly. Only one slight snag with that date – I was due to attend a day’s course in London for work and I couldn’t do otherwise!
By Wednesday evening I had almost given up hope of making it back from London in a reasonable time. Traffic was terrible, the weather was bad, and I had missed my motorway junction right at the start adding half an hour to my journey time. Several hours later I was in two minds as to whether to go, given that I only got back home at 9pm. Nevetheless I went, travelling an hour north past Manchester to reach the hills above Shaw. Call it dedication. Call it madness. Call it a calling. I made the journey in the darkness and dampness.
Having recce’d the site before everything was straightforward, even though it was dark this time. I knew where to park, how to get to the hill, and what kind of path to expect. Even though it was new moon and there was no moonlight the hill was oddly lit. Maybe it was the ambient lighting of the towns in the valley below?
The dowsing rods led me to the same place as last time to communicate – a small semi-circular recess slightly back from the edge of the sheer drop into nothingness at the edge of the Besom Hill‘s sheer edge. Oh yes, “Besom Hill”. as in “besom broomstick” associated with witches. On Halloween. I know. Again – I was completely ignorant of this until I came to write this post up and view the place on an OS map. Really! This is just how these things happen.
I crassly asked for a physical sign of my grandfather’s presence. This was responded to by a distant boom, like a loud firework going off or a thunderclap. I took this to be fireworks because Bonfire Night was only a week or so away, and I tried again. Same thing. I asked for one more time. Same happened again. I asked for something more local to happen, and nothing happened. I can’t be sure what happened really, whether I was repsonded to or not, but the dowsing rods confirmed the presence of a spirit that responded as my grandfather.
I put some crystals around me to enhance my protection and focus the spirit. We communicated, and after a few minutes I began to see images and hear my voice talking about ancestors. It was talking about gathering the energy of my ancestors and accumulating that energy to enhance my own personal power – not in an egotistical way, more as a means to increase my abilities. My grandfather’s spirit suggested strongly that I should begin a task of going around finding and collecting any remaining family ancestor energies.
I asked if it was the same thing to obtain the energy of a spirit such as the one I had obtained co-operation from at Clun Castle. The answer was NO. This was different. Then I was shown a picture of ancient people going into megalithic sites to go through a ritual to commune and merge with their ancestors’ spirits. I asked if I could do the same. I felt something sit with me in the same place as I was, and then it began to merge with me so that I was seeing through its eyes, which were my eyes, because it was also seeing through me. I felt the energy form become one with me and I shivered a little, even though I was warm.
I dowsed as to what had just happened. My grandfather’s energy had entered into my own energy form. I had been protected against other spirits doing this, and had only allowed the spirit of my grandfather to do this, so I was happy that I had got the right energy form. I set off back home and got diverted back a junction again on the M62 motorway. Really, someone or something was trying to make this as difficult as possible for me! I was tired enough already from nine hours of driving that day!
When I got home I dowsed if any change had occurred to me – YES, my spiritual and magickal power had increased. I don’t know what this means yet, or how I could measure it, or what the consequences might be, but it was an interesting experience. Time will tell if it was beneficial! In terms of collecting my ancestor spirits – one down and several to go?
In the final part of my Autumn Equinox posts from the island of Anglesey I talk about my visit to the wonderful and mysterious mound of Bryn Celli Ddu with my psychic friend Mike. As you might expect given the company I was in this was a different experience than my usual dowsing visits, and I was also able to find out what the next final part of my healing quest would entail for the next few weeks.
Bryn Celli Ddu
We walked the gravelly path to the ancient mound buoyed by expectation. Our visit to Barclodiad Y Gawres had been disappointing, but now the sun was trying to break through the cloud cover, and the wind was easing back from its incessant howl. Of course, as always happens, we passed some visitors heading away from the site as we approached. This is such a busy place!
As we walked down the path I again “noticed” the moss-covered stone at the corner of the final approach path. As we walked round the corner I saw my old friend the ash tree – one of the tree guardians of the site. I paid my respects and passed the time of day without expecting a response. Mike, however, got rejected when he tried a similar approach. I giggled a little at this – this is exactly how Kal started out when he first approached trees – with an expectation of instant friendship. I knew that the road was much longer and tougher to travel than many people expect when it comes to talking to trees.
We began our approach and I mentioned how “spooky” the hawthorn-lined path could be at night. Even in the day it is a little intimidating. Mike said that he felt we were being watched. I stopped and tried to sense the presence too. Oh yes! Now that I turned my 360-degree attention to the entity I could sense there was something watching our progress, and it wasn’ t the tree. Hmm…I made a mental note.
Now we rounded the final corner and opened to gate to the site. it was Mike’s first visit and he drew an appropriately large intake of air in a huge gasp of appreciation.
A few weeks ago I was back at Woodhenge as part of my travels from Arbor Low to Christchurch. I was busy tracing the line through a barrow which I later found out was called “Ratfyn Barrow” locally, and which was positioned on a hill just south of Durrington and west of Bulford. Woodhenge’s location was a pleasant place to stop off and look around with the dowsing rods again, and also to look at why I had never gone to look at Durrington Walls which is right next to Woodhenge!
I stopped off at Woodhenge in order to have some lunch, like most of the other people who were there it seems, but unlike them I actually went into circles of concrete posts (they mark the original positions of the timber structure). There were several cars parked at the car park next to the site when I arrived but no-one seemed to be visiting the place. Later, when one couple of girls appeared at the site they lasted, oh…twenty seconds? Long enough to walk from one end to the other, read a sign, and then leave. OK, maybe a minute, but no more! As Kal and I have said many times, what are you expecting to find unless you are prepared to spend time tuning into the place? I expect many people imagine some information board is going to reveal all the site’s secrets instantly, and perhaps they are disappointed by most sacred ancient sites when they don’t actually reveal much to the casual visitor? I often feel like shouting out, “Buy some dowsing rods!!” but it’s a pointless rant.
I had the place to myself to dowse and I began by asking a question that Kal had sent me by text message (ah, techno-pagan that I am!).
- Were there any of the shades there that he had brought with him from Barnstaple recently? There were – only three though, and I knew that he had brought many more than that, so where were the others?
- Were these shades nearby? No.
- Had they departed of their own accord? Yes.
- Had they followed a ley line? No. I stopped for a moment to think about other possible methods of egress….
- Had they attached themselves to visitors, perhaps? YES. All of them? No, some had dissipated due to the energies of the site, and the work Kal had done by burying one of this crystals. This had seen 25% of them shades being grounded and released, but the rest had attached themselves to visitors!
- Were they doing any harm to these people? No.
- Were they having a beneficial effect upon their hosts? YES.
I asked if I could release the three remaining shades and got a positive response. With the help of the dowsing rods I visited the site of each of the shades in turn and then, once I had felt its presence, I called upon some spirit guides that I use for this purpose and they helped me to remove the shades safely and for their benefit. None were too reluctant to go, it seemed, which was comforting (I don’t know why, but I guess it makes me feel like it was the right thing to do if they wanted to go anyway).
On the way out I dowsed a ritual path that would retain all of the energies that I had collected, or rather, would prevent me from losing energy. Blooper alert - watch me heading in a sun-aligned direction at first and then correcting it for moon-aligned folk (such as myself). If I wasn’t filming it I would have giggled. Here is the result: