Wednesday, 19 December 2012


“Horse Shit”

said this matter-of-fact voice in my mind

Yes, “Horse shit”.  Not ‘bullshit’ as you might begin to think as I continue to write, and to write about ‘spiritual intrusion’ into my mind and body.  Or as I continue to assert that this is the source of the voices in my head.  Nor when I write about physical/spiritual presences within or around me.

I thought for a moment as I considered the suggestion – yes, yes, yes - suggestion - and realising that it would work, I sent voiceless thanks to this anonymous source, and set about preparing to put it into practice.

In the more than thirty years that have elapsed since I began to hear voices and experience physical presence in my body and mind, I have never ceased from saying and writing that what I experience is of spiritual origin.  This has been the core of the book that I have written, and, from the fact that I have had much feedback acknowledging this truth, it is obvious that many individuals agree.

    So, this is the scene, and this the problem.  I am standing in my garden, and these are two ponies belonging to my neighbour who rents this field of mine.  As ever, they give witness to the truth that ‘the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence’.

And there lies the trouble – they lean against the fence, and in time they weaken it.  Therefore, how to deter them, since barbed wire does not…  They do not like tainted grass, and so from time to time, I spray a strip with some noxious liquid – which puts them off, but for only a short while.  ‘So’, I pondered, “what can I use that lasts for some time and doesn’t cost money?”

       And then, as from nowhere, came the succinct answer – “Horse shit.”

Horses will not graze on grass that has been fouled by their own droppings, and so, without delay, I collected a shovelful of dung, and put it in a bucket that I next filled with water.  This, then, formed the basis for the spray that I applied copiously along a metre wide strip beside the fence – and voila – the grass remained ungrazed.  Result!  Problem solved!  “Give me a high-five!!”

So…  How do you give a high-five to a spiritual presence?  I know it sounds daft, but this is the reality of spiritual presence.  There is no ‘religion’.  There is no ‘thee” and “thou”.  Yet there is actual presence !

But how can I be so certain?

To get the full story you will have to read my book, which I wrote in an endeavour to inform and convince people.  Normally I am a very private person and do not lightly expose my inner thoughts or emotions, but so determined am I that others should read and know, I was, and still am, prepared to write and reveal every intimate detail of a very traumatic period in my life.  If you can read nothing else that I write, read my Chapter 6.

In this Chapter, you will find out how, completely ‘innocently’, and following an interest in dowsing, I allowed myself to be drawn into this strange sequence of events.  You will learn just how it transpired that on one bright morning, and sitting in meditative silence…  “a presence that I could not see moved from the space in front of me into me.  Immediately my mind was charged with another ‘voice’ or provoker of thoughts…  I began to ‘hear voices’.”

In other words – before there was a ‘voice’, there was physical presence.

As the story unfolds, you will learn of several, albeit anonymous, physical/spiritual presences.  “Then, 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 evening, 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 I accepted all that was happening 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 while serving in the Royal Navy; riding horses - plus all of 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, William McGonnagle, “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 climbed the stairs literally 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 all the intervening 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…”

Then, in a bleak, cold, wet December, as Christmas approached, my life went ‘pear shaped’; fell apart…  What had been interesting, acceptable – welcoming, even, - now became tormenting, threatening, dominating… overwhelming… malign…

I’m sorry.  I am just not going down that path again with even the most cursory description.  I have put all of the distress and misery into the account that is in my book.  It is a very full account of events that were completely life changing.  I learned much then, and have never ceased learning, for I have never been free of all of the intrusions into my mind and body.

Looking back, and even employing all of the powers of 20/20 visual hindsight, there is so much that is inexplicable.  There are so many puzzles: there is so much that is totally an enigma.  I still cannot, even with the added experiences of the intervening thirty years, I still cannot explain to myself, let alone anyone else, exactly how I, as the intelligent, rational, logical and scientifically minded person that I perceive myself to be, how I came to let myself be completely dominated.  Yes dominated.  Yes, terrorised.  True, I was living alone and had lost a point of reference, but that does not excuse the situation in which I found myself.

And yet…  yes!  Yes, there has also been the very positive life enhancing experience and learning.  For, in full measure, I encountered the absolutely, diametrically opposite extreme of the whole malign voice hearing, physical presence phenomenon.  Again, while, in the book, I have written as fully as I have been able, nevertheless, within that account you will find large gaps, for some of the encounters were so deep, emotional and intense, that even now, after thirty years, I still can only look at them ‘sideways, with half an eye’.

In my own life and in my own way, I have been re-living history.  In my own person, I have encountered the same reality as that encountered by every human society that has ever left a record.  Every one has reached the same understanding, namely, that there exists a spiritual state of being that parallels our own: that there exists essentially a ‘mirror’ of our own society with spiritual beings of every persuasion from the highly intelligent, highly motivated, to the malicious, ignorant, depraved, and, ultimately; the personification of evil.  Inevitably, in the past, the knowledge has led to religious belief and society.  By contrast, I have been at great pains to avoid any religious connotation, so determined am I to try to reach individuals of all religions or none.

As my story advances within the book, you will find how my own religious beliefs inspired some of my actions or informed my decisions, but other than mentioning them as I describe my motives, I retain them as personal to me, and they form no part of my theme in what I am  writing here.  In fact, as my life took on a new ‘stability’ and direction, much of my interaction with the ‘benign’ has been involved with the ‘every-day’, the practical, the mundane.  Look, this is part of my kitchen.  It is here that much of the dramatic ‘action’ took place. But it is now completely and totally different from what it was then; everything has changed.

Apart from the surround of the oven, I have put in place every piece of wood, every tile – even the glass in the far window and the copper hood.  Gone is the Rayburn cooker with all of the memories of the dramatic events that happened beside it.  In its place, the gas hobs, which I set low, in expectation of visitors in wheelchairs.  The house is built in the local traditional manner of large stones, cobbles, boulders of the local granite, and with walls that are two feet thick.  This part is the oldest and dates from pre-1700, and its age is reflected in the fact that there is hardly a true vertical or horizontal, or a corner that meets at right-angles.

       So this is what faced me at the outset as I began my changes and improvements.  The previous owners had done much to improve this fairly basic home, and I was following on with my own developments.  I had almost no DIY experience, and only the bare minimum of handy tools, but as my plans formed and I began to acquire good tools, I discovered something else.  Something that is so vital to what I am trying to tell you, yet is something that I find difficult to put into words.  It was the ambience of hope and encouragement that surrounded me, which put ‘wind in my sails’.  Just as I had come to recognise the mental stagnation and negativity that came from the malign intrusions, so did I find this opposite – this wonderful feeling of collaboration.  Not in words, for they were unnecessary, for as I met seemingly insurmountable problems posed by the fabric of the house, so, virtually subliminally, there came into my mind the essence of the solution.  And with it the belief that I could achieve a good result, to the extent that I began to realise that within reason, one could achieve almost any goal in life.

Just one example.  At the far end of the kitchen, just below the window there is a narrow unit.  It links the one on the left with the sink which is just out of sight on the right.  I had had difficulty in conceiving the design and equal difficulty in its fabrication, and went to bed, completely dissatisfied, but with a shrug and a ‘that will just about do’.  I awoke to one of those days that I had come to recognise – everything felt right, the clear mind was there – and the encouragement.  Yes, the encouragement.  Completely wordless, but – well, just imagine yourself as a parent and your child is about to set off, it could be to take an exam; have an interview or audition.  You wouldn’t bombard it with words or fussing, but would surround it with unspoken love and encouragement.  Just imagine that…

       Needless to say, I dismantled the efforts of last evening, and with great pleasure built the unit that you can see, and which is completely functional.  And this is one of the great secrets of helping those you love or are caring for – of helping them to achieve their own recovery.  I frequently use the analogy of the three-legged race; of how you have to be a partner, giving support, encouragement and hope.  Yes, that especially.  With the recognition that one is dealing with spiritual involvement, there will come much knowledge and understanding, all of which has relevance to other mental disorders and conditions.

       But with this knowledge and understanding, it is probable that you will come to realise, as I do, namely that strong anti-psychotic drugs have no place here.  While, in the first instance, they may help an individual to cope with the initial trauma at the onset of ‘schizophrenia’, they do so by suppressing the mental activity in such a way that the malign intrusions cannot function.  But then, neither can the positive; the benign.  Their ability to access the mind and senses will be frustrated.  And their frustration will be doubly profound as they, as we do, witness the deterioration of a sensitive mind into that of a near zombie.  Which is the fate that many seek to avoid and is the reason why some have sought and then found a work such as my book.

       Without exception, the individuals who have communicated with me, whether as carer or voice-hearer, have done so because they have searched the Internet for alternatives to the much feared ‘psychiatry’ and anti-psychotic drugs – and the stigma that goes with a diagnosis of ‘schizophrenia’.  Again, without exception, they have been generous with their thanks and expressions of relief at knowing that there are alternative routes to follow.  Throughout the book, I give many examples of the working of the benign and the malign in my life.  I list numerous ‘ploys’ that are used by the malign as they attempt to undermine, suppress and destroy.  I contrast these with the many examples of the working of the ‘benign’, which I try to translate into actual ‘working practices’ that any may follow. 

I have endeavoured to share my knowledge and experience as widely and freely as I have found possible, and I have written to try to inform, exhort and encourage – 160,000 words in my book alone, plus a variety of articles, essays and poems, many of which are currently on my Blog.  The book itself is part autobiography, part D.I.Y. Manual, and is aimed at voice hearers and their carers, and at the professionals in the care of the mentally disturbed.

Undoubtedly, there will be many who will have difficulty in coming to terms with the whole ‘spiritual’ thing.  To many, ‘spiritual’ and the reality of actual intelligent, freely acting ‘entities’, and of ‘beings’ that can have real interaction with us as individuals, are all concepts that will be coloured by their own personal history and existing beliefs.  In my writing, I describe the complete reality of my experiences, a reality that has me sitting at my computer and trying to write in a manner that will convince you also.  And I am writing about results; about the practical, not the means by which the   results are achieved.  How can I possibly know?  Always, I am the pragmatic one – if it works, and works with a desirable outcome, well, use it.  Which brings me back to my opening event – to advice that was offered very succinctly – basic advice that actually works.

Look… in all of my adult life, from age nineteen until my final retirement from employment, my work involved highly complex electronic devices whose working I understood fully.  Yet I sit at this computer and I haven’t a clue.  It does remarkable things using methods that I shall never understand, but it does them, and that is all that matters to me now.  There is so much in life that the majority can’t understand, but their lives go on.  In like manner, there are natural processes taking place of which we are so unaware, and yet are so wonderful in themselves.  Only last night I watched a documentary about an ants’ nest in the Arizona Desert.  I watched in awe at the workings of this colony that was totally underground, and marvelled at the organisation of thousands of little lives – and I was left wondering and speculating about all of the many, many unseen activities that are happening, and about which we know little or nothing – until someone shows or tells us.  

       I have put so much of myself into the ‘showing and the telling’ about hearing voices, spiritual intrusion, and the reality of the spiritual/human interface, and the computer has been my companion in the process of doing so.  I am fortunate in where I sit to write, in that I have outlook into fields and trees, and I have watched the seasons and the weather change many times as I have done my ‘telling’.

But, bear in mind, I am now eighty-seven, and some time, ere long, I’m afraid that you will have to go it alone…

In the meantime, as the horses now behave themselves, I can sit and relax and say, comfortably, – Job Done