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MY CHILDHOOD INITIATION

I saw my first ghost when I was very young. I remember being in my cot and seeing a strange-looking person standing before me in a purple robe. He looked quite like the mysterious Dr Fu Manchu, the Chinese character in the books of Sax Rohmer. This spirit was obviously a Mandarin Chinese. He had disappeared by the time I was about seven years old and we had moved to a different house. He appeared to me 20 years later through a psychic channelling medium. He said his name was Ching Ling and that he wished to help guide me through my life. He was my first experience with the spirit world.

I also recall seeing other spirits who used to come and stand by my bed. It never occurred to me to ask who they were or why they were there. After all, we used to say a prayer in school asking ‘angels to guard us while we slept’, so it seemed only natural that these were the angels of my prayers, even though they looked more like people than angels.

So, by the time I was 13 years old, I had already experienced psychic encounters, as well as religious enlightenment. The religious moment came after my first confession. I was brought up as a Roman Catholic. After the first confession, the initiate is expected to turn up for a full confirmation ceremony and to receive the life of Christ. I stood up and immediately felt ecstatic, immortal, as though anything in life could be achieved or made possible. I had visions of angels. I was probably about eight years old at the time. I talked about how I felt to my peer group at school. We had all had different experiences, but mine seemed quite special. At that time I knew I loved God and Jesus, but I was in love with Mary, I believed her to be the Mother of the World.

However, there is a large gap between the ages of eight and 13, and by this time, though a lot of my original faith had held fast, the injustices of the world seduced me into questioning my relationship with the Church. The ‘angels’ had long since disappeared and my visions of immortality had been overtaken by my interest in listening to rock ’n’ roll on radio’s Saturday Club. The chart hits of the day and my growing awareness of girls became central interests in my life.

When I was 13 my maternal grandfather died. Grandfather Cooke was one of those ‘salt of the earth’ characters who work hard all their lives for little financial reward. Neither did he expect any charity. He was born during the 1880s, when everyone knew their place, whether rich or poor. He would not have called himself a Christian, but he did believe in Jesus. In fact he told me that his brother once saw Jesus walking through the living room, ‘as plain as day’. This vision of the Lord was probably enough to lend him the faith to prepare him for the afterlife.

He died on the chimes of midnight on New Year’s Eve 1960. Grandmother Cooke moved into our small flat the very next day. In a hurry she had neglected to bring along some essential things, which I was asked to go and collect.

It did not bother me going to the house, I always had a good relationship with my grandparents and I was very happy to help out in any way I could. It was only when I arrived at the front door that I had my doubts about going in. It was not the ghost of my grandfather that worried me, but I had to walk past the cupboard on the landing where the ‘bogey man’ lived. I had been brought up in this house from my birth until I was seven years old and when I broke the rules I was threatened with the bogey man. Much later in life I learned to understand this fear lay within my imagination, but at 13 the bogey man represented the Devil himself, ‘Old Nick’. I stood shaking with fear, a sweaty hand clutching at the key which would unlock the door. I was rooted to the spot for what seemed like an eternity. Time had stood still, life had frozen and I could not move my hand. It was only when a friendly dog barked that I snapped out of this entranced state. Slowly I turned the key and the door slid wide open.

Walking over the threshold of that old Victorian terraced house was like walking into the land of the dead. I had never before encountered anyone close dying or being dead. What struck me was the whole atmosphere of the house. It bore inside me and created a feeling of being wrapped in a blanket of cold sweat. I moved as fast as my jellied legs would carry me. First, I went to the living room and pulled a knife from the drawer. This was not to kill a ghost or assailant, but should I encounter the bogey man in the cupboard, I would be as ready for him as any 13-year-old boy would be when stricken by fear!

The house felt heavy, it heaved with death and even possibly ghosts, but I had no fear of them. As they had never bothered me in the past they were no threat now. I felt safe in my relationship with the otherworld. But still I could not call the angels to drive the bogey man away.

Eventually I passed my test of manhood by confronting the cupboard, my curiosity proving greater than my fear. Very slowly I lifted the latch. The door creaked open and squeaked, as it probably had not been opened since Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in 1953. The old cupboard housed a flagpole, still with the Union Jack furled around it. The only other object I saw was an old trumpet gramophone which I had never heard being played. I shut the door, gathered my grandmother’s things and walked out of the house. This was the only time I feared a confrontation with a being, imaginary or otherwise. I felt I had passed my first initiation.

It was around this time I experienced vivid dreams, which were frightening, but at the same time very entertaining. I would go to bed awaiting the next instalment. It was much like watching television. The characters, however, seemed real. They were moving through life and death scenarios, always violent, which culminated in the eventual death of the character who appeared to be me. Night after night this hero was killed and the shock always woke me up in a cold sweat, wondering where I was.

After a while, the dreams became an indelible part of my life, haunting me, taking me over. I changed my hairstyle, the clothes I wore and my personal hobbies and interests in line with the dream characters. Then one night the dreams just stopped, as if someone had taken the video cassette out of my mind and put it away so I could never find it again afterwards.

Many years later I would experience a sequence of events which would uncover the mystery attached to those early dreams. At night the world of ghosts embraces our living world through dreams and visions. The spirit world crosses over the subconscious and touches on the magical or the terrifying, until the mind has time to work out the past or the connection with the otherworld.

MY ADOLESCENCE

Grandmother Cooke, who now lived with us, was the daughter of a Romany Gypsy. Although she was a Christian, she was never afraid of being psychic and showing off her gift. She could read tea-leaves, divine meanings from a pack of playing cards and even tell the future from reading the shapes in the froth which formed in a beer glass during or after the drink. She treated it as an everyday occurrence and friends and neighbours used to pop in constantly to ask her advice.

This gave me the confidence not to underestimate my own psychic skills. I have never felt threatened or truly afraid of any encounter that I have had, even when working as a soul rescuer in places of darkness and malevolence. My early experiences of the spirit world taught me patience, how to communicate with the ordinary earthbound spirit and the difference between a ghost and a haunting.

In the fishing town where I was brought up, the conflicts in the streets and clubs were caused by drunken trawler crews hardened by long stints on the high seas. My intuition, or gut feelings, which are the basic instincts of all psychics, served me well during these times. Being psychic enabled me to hear unspoken voices from people and from the souls of earthbound spirits who would come and haunt the drunken sailors and others, taunting the living into violent behaviour or uncontrollable actions. I was usually able to detect trouble by feeling a build up in the atmosphere, though in some cases violence seemed to ooze up from the very grounds of the dance halls and nightclubs in which we gathered. I could hear the spirits’ intentions and ill will; I could hear the land and the buildings echo past events, sacred memories to the violation of the human spirit.

For many years I could not place why I had these abilities and as I became more aware of how far apart they set me from others I became oversensitive and insecure. By my early twenties I found myself in a Spiritualist church. It was dark, badly lit and with a rather daunting atmosphere. I met my first medium, a very old lady whose way of communicating with the spirits of the dead inspired me. She was the first to tell me that I had a natural talent. She instructed me to develop my psychic gifts and through her guidance I realized the difference between a psychic and a channel for spirit communication.

It became obvious to me that I needed a larger environment in which to develop, so I moved to London. Almost immediately I was thrown in the deep end as within a month of contacting the local Spiritualist church I was encouraged to become a probationary healer. I joined a development group and within a short time they realized that my gifts were unusual so moved me on to helping their rescue circle.

Rescue circles help lost souls to be relocated to family and friends. This was my first stage in becoming an apprentice soul rescuer. For two years as this work gathered pace I found myself working six nights a week in soul rescue and spirit communication while holding down a professional job in a large international company. This kept me grounded in the physical world, whilst my spare time was spent in the other world.

There were three crafts I was learning at this time which all demanded different techniques. My healing gift was in its infancy, but as I began developing a channel of light, I felt as though I was in contact with the higher powers. Being a conduit for a power source through the laying on of hands felt as though taps were being turned on and a flood of tingling, pulsating life-force would come out, often leaving a feeling of elevation, as if I was physically standing above the ground.

Then came the rescue of disembodied spirits. This practice is vital to many people who had died, sometimes tragically or in great fear of death, or with no belief in an afterlife. This is where I began to understand earthbound spirits and the conditions in which they remained after death – their world, their emotions and their psychological problems.

The Spiritualist rescue groups which I attended attracted well-meaning psychics who believed in a greater order of souls, angels and gods. Denomination was unimportant, but being psychic was necessary, as was possessing good counselling skills and the ability to use them on an unseen human being!

But after two years of learning psychic, healing and communication skills I began to find the work with the church limiting, particularly as I was in my early twenties while many who ran the organization at that time were in their sixties.

MY FIRST TEACHER

One Wednesday evening I attended a demonstration by a clairvoyant called Joan Bajzert. After the demonstration, Joan came over to me for a chat. As we talked we discovered how many beliefs we had in common.

Joan was not a natural psychic; in fact she had had no intention of working with spirits until she had been involved in a car accident. After a near death experience, during many months of recovery in hospital she started to see spirits, people who were invisible to everyone else. This shocked her, especially when her ability did not leave her even after she left hospital.

Shortly afterwards, whilst at home recuperating, she saw a Native American who introduced himself as ‘Blue Feather’. Initially she thought he was dressed for a fancy dress party, only to realize he was a true Native American. She wasn’t hallucinating. Her NDE had opened the door to an altered dimension; she was ‘seeing’ another reality. After this visit Joan and Blue Feather agreed that she would work under his tutelage and assist in the work of rescuing disembodied spirits.

It was the guiding wisdom of Blue Feather which encouraged my own natural and raw power to develop into the skills of a soul rescuer. Joan and I would sit together and Blue Feather would channel through her body to the point where Joan’s personality would totally disappear and Blue Feather would transform her features and voice into his own. In these times, he would talk about his life in the spirit world, about his family and wife; he would explain how he had incarnated as a shaman not only in the Americas but also in Africa, and as a result of a friendship made in that life his minder was a powerful African called Chumba.

Slowly I was realizing the various levels within the spirit realms and how they could penetrate the physical. I understood the guidance and spiritual protection needed when rescuing spirits. These soul rescuers from the other side of life are usually referred to as ‘guides’, as they can guide the earthbound spirits to a suitable place to heal, convalesce and forget who they were and remember who they really are within the spirit realms. Later in my life, I discovered how the support and guidance from the spirit world help considerably in offsetting the physical reaction to soul rescue, and gained the ability to cleanse a home or place of an entity without the need to be so physically attacked.

My first experience as an assistant soul rescuer came one day when I was invited to visit a house with a poltergeist. When we arrived it was a dull and rainy day. Thunder was coming from the direction of Heathrow airport, close by. The owner of the house did not believe in ghosts, but she was at her wit’s end. She had had the house blessed by the local priest but the phenomena had not gone away. In fact the presence of the vicar had stirred up the spirit and the phenomena were getting worse.

When we arrived Joan began to recite the Lord’s Prayer. This was her method of calling in the spirit and cleansing the space of negative energy. When the poltergeist began its assault, first a glass flew across the room and smashed against the wall. Then it turned its attack on Joan. As she was being protected by her guides, the effect on her was minimal. I was the unprotected sitting duck. Suddenly I felt a wind rush around my feet as if it were trying to knock me over. I stood my ground and then, with no other knowledge to call on, said some prayers. The next moment, I was rocking from side to side, assaulted by an invisible force which began to ride my back. This attack seemed to go on for some time. I attempted to throw the attacker off, but I couldn’t do it. Then it slowly dawned on me that the spirit attacking me was stuck in or holding on to my electromagnetic field. He couldn’t get out, so, like a fly trapped by a spider, he wriggled and jiggled until eventually all went quiet and I felt him slither to the floor.

Joan stopped praying and peace was restored. The poltergeist, which turned out to be an angry earthbound spirit, was taken away by the guides to a place of correction within the spirit worlds.

I was shocked and battered by my experience. Unable to talk, I collapsed onto the sofa, but after a few minutes, and a glass of cold water, I felt myself again. I had survived my first attack by a spirit and had discovered that I had the power to control the impulse of an entity, however angry.

I had been initiated into soul rescue.

The soul who has passed from a physical state and human consciousness into a parallel world soon leaves behind its relationship with the physical world. The earthbound spirit is one which has not been able to move beyond its habitat, attitudes, environment or status, and so it remains, often disenchanted, angry and even pompous. In many cases this is the reason why the spirit is earthbound in the first place.

There are disembodied spirits who wish only evil to befall the living, who wish to cause them harm or who just become a nuisance. They enjoy cruelty and play psychological games with the minds of the living through haunting and ‘riding’ the backs of their living descendants. I realized I needed to have more experience and knowledge of how to deal with the more malevolent spirits, including unruly ancestral family entities. My work as a soul rescuer began moving away from the Spiritualists and their concept of life after death to the more universal understanding of shamanism and esoteric teachings.

In the past I have been called a ‘ghost therapist’, which I have taken as a compliment, as I can see how appropriate this term actually is. The skill of the soul rescuer lies in trying to convince the disembodied visitor of three things: first, that they are physically dead; secondly, that they can choose where to go; thirdly, that safe passage can be arranged to their chosen destiny, either to their ancestors or to other realms within the spirit kingdoms. Once you have helped the spirit to adjust to a spiritual dimension, its dependence on physical attachments soon diminishes.

The soul rescuer is also often referred to as a ‘walker between worlds’, a person who has one foot in this world and the other in an altered dimension. The soul rescuer’s path is to travel beyond time and space into a dimension understood only by those initiated to reach into encounters with their own death. They must be able to meet the demons and horrors which haunt them and learn through these experiences that once the darkness is behind us, all there is is light, God and freedom.

THE INNOCENT PSYCHIC
NATALIA’S STORY

As a child I never believed that the dead were really dead. Even when my father expressed his own reluctance to believe in life after death I knew instinctively that there was an afterlife for the soul.

When I was 13 my belief was strengthened when a schoolfriend of mine was killed by a car. In the weeks before she died we had become especially close, travelling home on the bus together and visiting each other’s homes. The night before she died she came to me in a dream to say that she was going and we would not see her again. I did not understand what she meant until it was announced at the school assembly the next day that she had been killed in an accident. For three or four days after her death I felt slightly strange. It was as though I was in a tunnel. Everything was dark around me and I felt slightly depressed. Then on the third day the atmosphere lifted and I felt fine.

This was the first time that I had been on a psychic journey with a soul into the realms of the spirit world. Even then there was a part of me which understood that I was linking into my friend’s spirit as it moved through the death state and that when my mood had lifted she had been able finally to move on. I did not know where she had gone, but I knew that she was fine.

After that I would often feel her around. Whenever I passed the place where she had died I would feel her spirit enter my body and she would speak to me of her great joy at being in the spirit world but also of her great concern for her family’s welfare. She had been an only child, so the family grief at losing her was terrible.

Soon after this I began to see and feel ghosts and family spirits all around me, especially in my aunt’s house in Spain, which was over 300 years old and in the old part of town. Often the faint figure of a woman would stand on the stairs. She would disappear as soon as I looked straight at her, as if she was fearful of confrontation.

It was a turbulent time. My sleep was constantly interrupted by the spirits of the dead wandering in and out of my dream state and then I became very sick with an illness which the doctors could not diagnose but which meant that I had to spend some weeks under observation in hospital. Yet it soon passed as mysteriously as it had arrived.

At this time I coped with my psychic experiences through my Catholicism. My mother’s side of the family is Spanish and I have warm memories of following the older women to the local church on a Sunday to light candles and pray. At a young age I already understood the concept of purgatory and the practice of praying for the dead so that they could be relieved of their sins and go to heaven. I knew that the spirits I saw needed my help so every night I would say special prayers for them.