LISTENING TO THE SILENCES

 

CHAPTER 6 PAGE 3

That same evening, I settled with the pendulum and, as I held it over the chart, it started to whirl around rapidly and horizontally at its fullest extent, faster and faster, and continued whirling for several minutes. When it finally stopped and settled it spelled out "we've won we've won". Who had won and what had been won, only time will reveal.

I have never used the pendulum from that day to this; it simply does not respond!

The fact that I was not wary or apprehensive about the events that were taking place may surprise some, but it can be explained by the reasoning that such limited contacts as I had had with spiritualism had always been of a benevolent nature, and indicated a caring practice. As an example let me quote an incident that occurred in 1950 in my home in South Wales very shortly before leaving to take up work here in Cumbria.

Quite by chance, we had a visit from the medium who presided at the meetings held at the home of one of my aunts. After chatting for a while he went into trance and I was spoken to. Comment was made concerning a proprietary medicine that I was then using to counter a sinus problem. I was advised to stop taking it and instead to use Morton's 'Nervatogen'. When we obtained some it turned out to be an herbal tincture that had the most benign and relaxing effect. My sinuses cleared, and I subsequently took the drops whenever needed for other reasons until all the bottles that my mother had bought were exhausted. After a number of years, I tried to obtain a further supply, but it was no longer available.

Essentially, I believed that the named individuals had previously existed, and now, in spirit form, had access into me and my mind. Thus, when a further contact was made who was alleged to be my late father, I had no reason to doubt it.

Many of the conversations were about very practical matters. My concerns regarding the desolation that would follow nuclear war, or a returning ice age, were developed, and I was encouraged to believe that there could be survivors in such quiet places as that in which I live. It was suggested that I should learn as much as I could about basic survival techniques that would be needed if I survived, or which, if I died, I would be able to pass by inspiration to such survivors as there were and to their descendants. This seemed all the more logical as I began to appreciate that already, worldwide, there were individuals and small groups living remotely and learning and practising these skills; indeed, I came to know of one such man living not ten miles from me! Myself, I was encouraged to acquire a lurcher pup from a neighbour's litter in order to learn the skills of training a hunting dog and using it to obtain food. Many other topics were introduced for study - an activity in which I found no hardship, for I had long been active in many outdoor pursuits such as fishing and wildfowling.

As well as my physical survival, or the survival of knowledge with me, much thought was being engineered concerning my spiritual survival. My exploration of Buddhism was short lived; nevertheless, there was strong argument that I should become morally impeccable, but that I should not choose a philosophy or religious affiliation because it allowed a degree of moral latitude. It was put to me that as, at an earlier time, I had elected to be a Catholic, I should 'return to the fold', or, if not, then my rejection should be for sound reasons of belief, and not because I was looking for a path with less exacting moral standards.

I was encouraged to adopt a sincere prayer life and spent long periods in prayer each night. More and more the theme of the 'Second Coming' of Jesus was developed, and then, quite bluntly, it was put to me that He would return in a more mature person than was generally expected, and that I was a suitable candidate within whom He could manifest Himself. I cannot remember exactly how I declined such an offer that, it must be thought, no one could refuse. I do remember that I declared that I was too much of a coward to be able to accept such a high profile role.

Equally with the encouragement to be morally and spiritually 'clean', I was being urged to be most punctilious in my physical cleanliness. My underwear and socks I washed each night, and daily clean clothes became the norm, while bodily I entered another dimension. As an example I was encouraged to wash my anus each time I defecated, following, allegedly, Middle Eastern and Oriental practice. I was even schooled in how to be able to do this in a public loo. There was not an aspect of my life and thought that was free from scrutiny, for I was even counselled against a normally accepted practice that had developed in my heterosexual love life!

By a sequence of happenings that are too complex to relate, the spirit of a young (twenty-ish) woman was introduced into my 'coterie'. Her physical presence in me was most noticeable in ways which can only be experienced and not described. It was particularly apparent when any music was being played. I normally respond to dance rhythms with movement, having always enjoyed dancing. Now the 'feeling' of the movement became subtly different - feminine and sensuous.

Little by little, I was being accustomed to what some might find difficult to accept, namely the actuality of spiritual-physical contact. Thus, when I adopted my usual late-evening stance, leaning against the rail of my Rayburn cooker in the normal bum-warming posture and musing before going to bed, it seemed to come as no surprise when my head was moved by external influence: gently, from side to side, back and forth, easing tension out of my neck. Each day the interventions became more positive and, ultimately, I stood away from the cooker. 'Hands' pressed on my shoulders and I was 'eased' into a back-bend posture, where I was held for as long as I could tolerate it. When I stood up, I was eased into a forward bend as far as, and for as long as I was able to bend. Subsequently every evening I went through this routine, being bent further and held longer as time went on. My thigh and abdominal muscles became rock hard, my breathing improved, and, coupled with the dietary advice that I had been given and followed, I became as fit and healthily slim as I had been for a long time.

Again and again I have to emphasise that all that was happening I saw as being entirely benevolent, and I was a willing participant.

The culmination of this 'body tuning' came one evening and without preliminaries. My body began to be manipulated as if by two skilled chiropractors. I was then fifty-five and my frame had acquired its share of the residue of past accidents and strains - playing rugby, being mined at sea, riding horses, plus all the rest that can be classed as fair wear and tear. Over the course of that evening and the one that followed, every one of the affected areas was worked on with consummate skill. I was stretched and manipulated as must be someone on the rack, but while it was happening, in the words of the Scottish Bard, McGonagle, "He felt no pain". Somehow my pain centre was inhibited, although there were body reactions which seemed to indicate that a natural response was taking place - towards the end of the second session I felt as if I was going to faint, while at the same time my feet were performing a little 'drumming' dance.

Yes, I felt no pain while it was happening, but as soon as it stopped my whole body screamed in agony. I literally climbed the stairs on my hands and knees, and had to take an analgesic to be able to sleep. On the morning of the third day, I was carrying a bale of hay to the stable adjoining my house when I had to put it down. It was large and was bearing against a knee that for some time had troubled me intermittently by filling with fluid. Still very much aware of the two previous evenings, I looked up and said in my mind, "You have forgotten my knee". That night I woke in bed to find the knee being worked on 'ethereally', and happily, it has never bothered me again in over twenty years.

Life carried on in the same general vein for some little time, though it could not be said that it continued 'as normal'! There was an episode of automatic writing that recorded nothing of importance, and the presence of the young woman became almost tangible, to the extent that I found myself reaching for a hand when about to cross the street.

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