“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 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 √
Book– www.royvincent.org
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