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An Average Joe's Search For The Meaning Of Life
David Shaw
David Shaw sees himself as an Average Joe.He grew up an average kid in an average neighbourhood in Ayrshire. Like many an Average Joe, he does ordinary things: goes to work, supports his local football team, puts the world to rights over a pint. But this Average Joe is anything but average. Styling himself ‘spiritcounsellor’, he shares with us an extraordinary journey through the twilight world. Blessed with the ability to see and hear those who’ve passed on, and, helped by his spirit guides, Black Hawk and Mr Chung, David shares with us his extraordinary story of receiving messages from the other side. Here is an Average Joe – an ordinary man with an extraordinary story that will fascinate and intrigue.




David Shaw sees himself as an Average Joe.
He grew up an average kid in an average neighbourhood in Ayrshire. Like many an Average Joe, he does ordinary things: goes to work, supports his local football team, puts the world to rights over a pint. But this Average Joe is anything but average. Styling himself ‘spiritcounsellor’, he shares with us an extraordinary journey through the twilight world.
Blessed with the ability to see and hear those who’ve passed on, and, helped by his spirit guides Black Hawk and Mr Chung, David shares with us his extraordinary story of receiving messages from the other side.
Here is an Average Joe – an ordinary man with an extraordinary story that will fascinate and intrigue.
DAVID SHAW lives in Ayrshire with his wife, son, Labrador and a houseful of ghosts. When he is not writing books and magazine articles, David works as a psychotherapist, hypnotherapist and Reiki healer. But his biggest passion is working with his spirit guides and connecting this world with the spirit dimension. His only real aspiration is to be accepted as an Average Joe, oh and to maybe see his favourite football team, Kilmarnock, actually win a game!
You can follow David on Facebook.com/spiritcounsellor (http://Facebook.com/spiritcounsellor) & Twitter @sp_counsellor

An Average Joe’s Search for the Meaning of Life
David Shaw


Copyright (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013
Copyright © David Shaw 2013
David Shaw asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © December 2013 ISBN: 9781472055316
Version date: 2018-09-19

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
To my dear friend Cameron – rest in peace ‘Cammy’.
To everybody who has worked with me in a spiritual capacity, especially Donny, Mary, Tom and Linda.
To my family on the earth plane – Anne, Dylan, Mum and Dad, John and Margaret, Susan and Andrew, Laurel and Finlay.
To my family in spirit – Jim, Peggy, Andrew, Betty, and Margaret, and especially my grandfather Hamish, who I only knew briefly, but who has guided me throughout my adult life.
To my friends in spirit – especially Gordon and his illustrious spirit team, and the consciousness known collectively as SiBir.
To my guides – Black Hawk and Mr Chung.
To Victoria and everyone at HQ Digital who have supported this book.
To Dean Lewis for editorial expertise.
To author Carol Arnall for continual faith and encouragement.
And to you – my heartfelt thanks.

Contents
Cover (#u7513d1f7-247f-51d2-80fb-7b05c666f875)
Blurb (#u07d8f38c-eb61-576d-97b3-8ab38976cf59)
Author Bio (#u0603804f-b90f-5bdf-8b86-2950beed31f2)
Title Page (#ua658d3e9-da5d-5a97-aadb-a67fa2241066)
Copyright (#u3430e6bd-70b1-5685-abc0-06538d1e2cc2)
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

INTRODUCTION (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
I am just a guy who wrote a book. I’ve never been on television and, as far as I know, never slept with any footballers or pop stars. I haven’t climbed Kilimanjaro, and thankfully my parents weren’t sex beasts who liked to play ‘Dungeons and Dragons’.
So, who am I, and why would anybody even remotely consider reading about my life story? Well, I’m just an ‘Average Joe’ - a simple, ordinary Scotsman, who occasionally farts in the bath and may unthinkably leave the toilet seat up. Oh, but wait! Did I also mention that I’m a trance medium?
I guess I should have mentioned that earlier, but if I told you that I actively communicate with the spirit world through my smoke alarm then you would think I was a bit mental! By the same token, if I told you that there were a thousand voices in my head, all with a particular message for a grieving loved one, then you would exclaim: ‘Schizoid Freak’!
But that’s what happens to me every day and believe it or not I have become accustomed to this part of my life. I have accepted it and, thanks to my work through Trance Mediumship, I have more importantly come to understand it.
I witnessed many things whilst training to be a trance medium. I can vividly remember one particular medium take one single breath and holding it for over seven minutes – how can that be explained? I’ve also witnessed tables and chairs levitating up to the ceiling – while David Copperfield was nowhere in sight!
There is no doubt in my mind that the spirit world exists – I’ve had proof of that, but it is neither my job nor my intention to preach the virtues of spiritualism to you. I will only say that the spirit people who have kindly shared their wisdom through this publication are amongst the most knowledgeable people who have ever lived. In fact, I can guarantee that.
The fact that they have chosen to work with this little old ‘Average Joe’ is indeed an extremely humbling experience for me, for as I may have mentioned before – I am just a guy who wrote a book.

Chapter 1 (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
EMILY ROSE – DEBT COLLECTOR (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
I could instinctively feel that there was someone or something behind the bedroom door. As it slowly opened, the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention like soldiers preparing for an almighty battle. Thankfully, a welcoming ray of brilliant white light slowly began to shine through the gap in the now ajar door, but it couldn’t disguise the fact that whatever was still lurking behind this door was evidently not of this earthly world.
Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to the time being displayed on the alarm clock beside the bed. It read 3am – the ‘witching hour’ – when all godless creatures were free to roam and pillage the frightened souls of the righteous.
Not surprisingly, I was now utterly terrified, and as I reluctantly awaited the perceived demon’s next move I suddenly decided that there was only one possible way out of this hellish nightmare. I tentatively reached down to the floor and grasped my only hope; a weapon that would surely send this monstrosity back to the world from which it originally came.
I slowly raised my weapon, my arm outstretched in front of me nervously holding this small rectangular box that held the power to almost certainly evaporate this foe, this unknown intruder, this curse from the dark side. Then with a devastating blow, I firmly pressed the big red standby button and sent this piece of Hollywood hokum to the trash bin.
Why, oh why, did I rent this utter nonsense from the DVD store? Oh yes – it’s apparently based on fact. Well, I’m sorry Emily Rose, but your exorcism surely won’t win any Oscars. Hands up those of you who thought there really was a demon in my room – shame on you both!
After carefully checking that my television set was now definitely switched off, I trudged upstairs to bed, still smirking at the audacity of the Hollywood filmmakers who consistently push this sort of material on the vulnerable and the naive. Not for me, a spirit medium with ‘bags’ more sense and knowledge, but who ultimately should have known better.
The film was still very much in my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep, albeit thankful in the knowledge that what I had just viewed was drastically over-exaggerated for the purpose of so-called entertainment!
When I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, sensing a strong spirit presence in my bedroom, I instinctively turned to view the time on my alarm clock – 2.59 am, but then quick as a flash it was 3am - the ‘witching hour’! I was up out of that bed faster than diarrhoea from a salmonella-fuelled bowel. My soldiers had once again loaded their guns and were about to recommence battle. But, oh my god – this time it was for real!
The commotion woke my wife, Anne, who then glared at me with that now familiar disgruntled look. ‘Ghosts in the house again, dear?’ she asked sarcastically. I nodded sheepishly before switching on my bedside lamp. A wry smile spread slowly over my face.
‘I’m being taught a lesson here,’ I thought to myself as I slowly climbed back into the virtual safety of my now lukewarm bed, before tentatively turning off the bedside lamp and belatedly asking my guides for spiritual protection.
Fortunately, I slept like a log for the remainder of the night, before waking up peacefully the next morning, yet still trying desperately to work out just what had transpired the previous night. I knew that I had almost certainly been crudely woken by spirit energy at the precise time of three o’clock in the morning, but I was also aware that this couldn’t have been the witching hour because there is no witching hour! Just as I also knew that Emily Rose was not possessed by the devil – there is no devil! I had simply been foolish enough to watch a film that could badly affect my energy and presumably my spirit workers were trying to prove a point – or were they?
So, what’s this got to do with the meaning of life, you may ask? Absolutely nothing whatsoever. It’s just a small insight into my world; a world where very little is ever coincidental, yet a world where nothing is ever really straightforward either. But it is a world that is frequently challenging, and rarely ever dull. It’s my world, but it could easily be your world. We’re all co-existing in various different cocoons of profound thoughts and experiences. But what does life really entail? Why are we here? What purpose do we serve? And, more importantly, just what is the true meaning of life? –the latter, being a simple question, but one that has baffled the greatest of minds for many centuries. But you and I are hopefully going to find out the answer!
In actual fact, I have been searching for the answer to this precarious question all my adult life and now I have been promised the answer. I have been unobtrusively instructed to write this book and all will be revealed in due course. Says who? Well, I will tell you very soon and then you can send for the men in white coats! Seriously though, don’t send for them just yet!
I would be deeply honoured if you would journey with me on this heroic quest and together we can hopefully find that purpose for which we live and breathe in this big, bad, wonderful world of ours. And who knows, if enough followers join us along the way then this book may go global and I can retire gracefully with a large yacht moored off my own private island. Or if we go straight to DVD then I can hopefully relax in the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, this publication could have changed someone’s life for the better. If that is the case then it truly will be job done!
First golden rule though, despite what I just stated about yachts and private islands – never judge a soul by what’s in their wallet; always by what’s in their heart. Now open up your heart and let love guide you on this fabulous journey that we are about to embark on. But saddle up; for it’s sure to be a bumpy ride!
Oh and incidentally, if you rather randomly picked up this book in the bargain bin – you know, the badly organised display in your local supermarket that usually contains books reduced to clear by ex-Big Brother ‘celebrities’ –then please don’t worry. You can still join the party – as long as you donate to charity the amount of money you invariably saved. If you don’t, then I’ll send round Emily Rose to do a bit of late-night debt collection!

Chapter 2 (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
THE THREE WISE MEN (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
Before we go any further, I feel I should really introduce myself properly. After all we’ve been through already it’s only fitting that we should be appropriately acquainted.
My name is David Shaw, you can call me David, Dave, Davy, or by my professional name – Spiritcounsellor. When I say professional name, I really mean… Oh you know what I mean!
So, just who exactly am I? Well, I’m your stereotypical, run of the mill ‘Average Joe’, nothing more and nothing less. But, I’ve got a story to tell that will both shock and amaze you, and will hopefully leave you feeling that your own life has real purpose and value. For now though, this is the story of my life, and how I battled the demons within me in order to reveal my true destiny.
Well, if I’m going to tell you my life story, warts and all, then I must be as open and honest with you as I can possibly be. But before I begin this spiritual biography, there are a couple of people I must introduce to you – my two co-writers. Get the men in white coats ready!
But hold on, just before I introduce them to you, I must make a statement regarding the content of this book and who it should primarily be aimed at. This book is being compiled for everyone – not just spiritual people, not just those interested in the paranormal – but for everyone. I will give you the facts as I see and find them and the opinions expressed are entirely my own and should be judged by your own interpretation. Always remember that you must live your own life, and you alone have the right to make the decisions by which you will inevitably be judged.
Firstly, let me introduce ‘Mr Chung’. As the name might suggest, Mr Chung is from China. In fact he was born in China before becoming a Tibetan monk– wait for it – in the third Chinese Dynasty. Yes, he’s in spirit – a spirit guide in fact, who as far as I am aware has worked with me for about the last eight or nine years of my physical life. His wisdom is truly phenomenal and I feel extremely privileged to be working with him. Mr Chung will work ‘through me’ in order to deliver his words of wisdom. He will pop in from time to time and you will recognise his work by the philosophy that is given. If I were to give you a spirit reading, then Mr Chung would be in charge of the proceedings.
Secondly, I would like to introduce ‘Black Hawk’. Yes I know what you’re thinking – a Native American spirit guide and a Chinese monk! Who hasn’t got one of those? There is a good reason why these two spirits appear to me as they do. Simply put, they project an appearance of spirituality as Native Americans and Buddhist monks were, and indeed still are, extremely spiritual people. Both Black Hawk and Mr Chung undoubtedly lived many physical lives, but it is, as they appear to me now in this particular guise, that they were most at peace with their soul and spiritual self. Their appearance is not really that important – it’s their knowledge that is invaluable.
Mr Chung once told me that if you took the combined knowledge of all individuals living in the physical world today, it still would not compare to the universal knowledge attained by my two guides what a pair of bigheads!
So Black Hawk is a Native American, that much I know. But he’s a bit secretive about his past, and to be honest it’s totally irrelevant to me. All that really matters is that he has my respect and hopefully I will earn his. I know that Black Hawk has been with me all my physical life and for the spiritually minded – he is my ‘gatekeeper’.
A ‘gatekeeper’ is a kind of spiritual bodyguard. He protects me from negative energy in both the spiritual and physical worlds. Everybody has a ‘gatekeeper’ and we have all benefited from their presence at least once in our lives. You may have been walking down a dark alley one night and suddenly decided to turn back, sensing that something wasn’t quite right within the context of the road ahead. Your ‘gatekeeper’ will have warned you of impending danger. I can only presume that Emily Rose’s gatekeeper was down the pub!
Black Hawk has a distinct writing style. He will be direct and extremely informative about life in the spiritual realms. The information that I have received from Black Hawk has helped to shape the way I live my life today. It is true to say that without Black Hawk’s help I would not be alive in the physical world today – I will explain this later in the book.
So, just how is this going to work, three voices all sharing experiences and giving advice? It should hopefully work perfectly. You should realistically only notice a difference in the actual style of writing.
Let me explain. Can you recall the topical 1970s television programme That’s Life? Now, I appreciate if you are less than twenty years old, have only recently moved to the UK, or if, god forbid, we’ve gone global, then you will most likely be none the wiser – so I’ll explain further. That’s Life was a British television programme that dealt with serious news issues and also humorous side stories. There was also a section of the programme that gave out extremely valuable advice regarding health and relationship matters. Basically, it catered for the ups and down’s of life itself. My father used to hate the show because of the rather diverse content, but for most people the mix worked surprisingly well and the show was hugely popular.
A typical show would entail a report on the rising number of teenage pregnancies in Newcastle; we would then jump to the case of a rogue builder whose poorly constructed houses collapsed on top of disabled people, crushing them to death; and finally a talking dog from Barnsley who could say ‘sassages’ or sausages without the Yorkshire accent of course.
Well, retrospectively, Mr Chung would be reporting on the Geordie pregnancy scandal and dishing out contraceptive advice to all and sundry; Black Hawk would be warning against the perils of buying a house from ‘Bob the Bastard Builder’; and I, on the other hand, would be encouraging Barnsley’s pooch of the year to pop in to his local butcher and ask for two pounds of Cumberland’s finest!
I hope this makes some sort of sense. I work in what’s called a Trance Mode. This means that from time to time my guides will influence what I write. You’ll know when one of my guides begins to come through as the literary standard will more than likely improve and the spiritual information will become far more relevant, although I will profess that my guides don’t tend to have too much of a sense of humour!
But in my opinion life shouldn’t be all too serious. Emotions are what make the world go round, so let your emotions run free as we journey through the chapters and I promise you that the experience will be all that more special and personal to you.

Chapter 3 (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
AYR UNITED, SOMERSET, PHOENIX… (#uaac03244-cc5e-5508-8c84-7b7b3d682095)
I guess my first encounter with the spirit world began when I was around six years old. Psychotherapists will tell you that this is the age when most children start to have nightmares, and in my case – very real nightmares!
A typical nightmare would involve me wandering around a deserted street at night, before suddenly sensing impending danger around a dark corner. My instinct would tell me that I was about to be attacked and I would automatically start to run, and run, until eventually I would notice that I would simply be running on the spot. And no matter how hard I tried to move my legs they ultimately would not move – like two fence posts set in concrete.
At this point I would quickly close my eyes and subsequently find myself back in my bedroom. However, I would then hear someone or something slowly climbing the stairs of my house. Now terrified, I would quickly close my eyes again, imagining that they were glued shut for I knew that this intruder was anything but friendly. I also knew that I couldn’t stop this intruder coming into my room but I didn’t have to see him in the flesh. With my eyes tightly closed and my other senses working overtime, I would lie there in my bed virtually paralysed with fear. I would then hear the intruder’s distinctive, menacing breath as he presumably stood over me.
I found that my only method of escape was to suddenly free myself from this paralysis by opening my eyes quickly and shouting out aggressively, thus freeing myself from the restraints of this trance-like state. Thankfully this always did the trick and I would ultimately find myself back in my room and the menace would have gone.
I remember vividly one night when this particular situation occurred. Just after the intruder had left, I looked out of the bedroom door – the door was always left open with the hall light left on as I was terrified of the dark – and I suddenly visualised the outline of a large strangely dressed man. He had horns sticking out of his head – yes I know we’re back to Emily Rose again, but for some reason he didn’t seem quite as threatening as the previous visitor. Nevertheless, a man standing at the bottom of my bed with horns sticking out of his head – no thank you! Eyes tightly closed again, before quickly reopening them and thankfully finding myself back in my room.
I slowly perused my room and all seemed back to normal. This allowed my heart rate to settle down from ‘cardiac arrest stage’ to a more acceptable ‘about to jump out of an aeroplane in a parachute’ rate. I touched the bedroom wall – thankfully it was real, I was now back in the land of the living!
My mother wandered through to my room in a kind of half-awake, half-asleep state and asked if I’d been dreaming. I was just about to mention monster number one when she exclaimed, ‘It’s just another nightmare, go back to sleep.’ I began to relax; strangely comforted in the fact that it must have been a bad dream sure enough, yet why did I wake up in the middle of what seemed like another bad dream? Maybe this happened to everybody, I didn’t know. Maybe just as well!
It wasn’t until many years later whilst being trained as a spirit medium that I was informed by people ‘in the know’ that what I had experienced was in fact a ‘spirit attack’. Furthermore, I needed to protect myself from further attacks. But how do you protect yourself when you’re asleep? I was confused, I’m pretty sure you are too at this point! I was told that I needed to say a prayer of protection that would enable my spirit guides to protect me, thus closing down all other spiritual activity around me.
As a teenager I had partly managed to control the ‘bad dreams’. These dreams were fairly sporadic from the age of about seven onwards. I would estimate that they occurred maybe once or twice a month. And yes they were horrific – you’ve got absolutely no idea! But I felt that my imagination was creating the dreams – not demons or ghosts. I was scared of ghosts, just like any other child. I used to hear the occasional footsteps walking up my staircase early in the morning, but the culprit seemed friendly and never came into my room to frighten the living daylights out of me.
I can vividly recall one night when I must have been about fourteen years old and I could sense someone or something in my room. It was around midnight and I was definitely awake and fully conscious, when all of a sudden I heard a voice emanating from somewhere inside my head – it felt as though I was actually talking to myself.
The voice said, ‘If you think of happy, enjoyable things, then you will relax.’ As quick as a flash I began to think of what made me happy, what I enjoyed most. I loved football; my favourite team being Kilmarnock, or Killie as they’re more popularly known, and our bitter rivals were another local team – Ayr United. I thought about Killie playing Ayr United, but it had to be an away game…Ayr United at their own turf – Somerset Park!
Surprisingly, I began to relax; the fear had temporarily subsided. But hang on – I could still sense someone in the room. What else did I like? I loved video games; my favourite being a game in my local amusement arcade called Phoenix. I imagined I was playing Phoenix and again I began to relax. It was working. ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix,’ I murmured to myself. I repeated it and it felt weirdly comforting. I then repeated the strange chant sixteen times, my favourite number was four – four times four being the ultimate protection!
My prayer of protection was now set in stone. It was a mixture of complete and utter mumblings, which made absolutely no sense to man or beast. But, you know what? It worked! The bad dreams stopped, just as long as I remembered my bedtime prayer. I can recall a few occasions when I forgot my prayer, God knows why, and of course my bad dreams would return and I would subsequently realise why.
I still presently say ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix’ each night before going to sleep. I’ve often thought of updating to ‘Big boobs, Budweiser, Sky Sports’, but that would just be plain silly! However, I am now aware that it’s not just simply bad dreams but very real experiences.
I can recall one other night not too long ago when I had one of these ‘experiences’. By now I knew exactly who was attacking me as I had previously plucked up the courage to look at him. I awoke suddenly as I usually did and my wife Anne was already awake and staring into space. Her eyes had a distinct look of disbelief and I calmly asked her if she was OK. She turned to face me, the pupils of her eyes still bulging from the sockets. ‘I saw someone standing over you,’ she whispered. I quickly told her not to worry about it and that we should just go back to sleep.
The next morning we discussed the previous night’s traumatic event. I asked Anne if the person she saw was dressed as an eighteenth century gentleman with long dark hair and a beard. She again looked at me with those disbelieving eyes, before reluctantly nodding in agreement. It was time to sort out this menace once and for all. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine. I will tell you later just how I dealt with this character. Oh, and if you happen to be wondering about the man with the horns sticking out of his head, well he is in fact an American Indian Medicine Man. I wonder who that could be!
The rest of my childhood was ironically pretty normal for a lad growing up in Kilmarnock. As I mentioned earlier, I supported Kilmarnock, but being only twenty miles from Glasgow, most of my friends supported Rangers or Celtic. Kilmarnock was a major industrial town in the seventies and industry attracted workers seeking good affordable housing away from the big city. My friends were all from Glasgow and being either ‘one side of the religious fence or the other’ it was very much a love-hate relationship for most of us – especially for the Killie fan stuck in the middle.
However, there was a great camaraderie between all the families living in my housing estate. There were no two-car families, most households had only one parent working as far as I know, and everybody rented their house from the local council. But they were good times as the 1970s were a relatively peaceful decade. There were no organised gangs roaming the streets, yet the kids were far tougher than they are nowadays. Adults could walk the streets at night without fear of being assaulted or even killed – yet the standard of living was much lower than it is today.
When I used to perform spirit readings, very often spirits would visually come through to me dressed in the style of the seventies. You know – long hair, flared trousers, hideous floral patterned garments etc. Spirits will always try to convey a loving, peaceful scenario when making contact. They certainly wouldn’t wish to show themselves when they were ill, depressed or having their £250,000 house repossessed!
Of course, society has changed immensely since the seventies. The cost of living is now so much cheaper and with the technological boom we can easily purchase amazing consumer products that would have seemed totally inconceivable in the 1970s. We can easily travel to luxurious foreign destinations, we can affordably run one or more cars per family, and we can even contemplate private health care and send our children to private education. We may even own several properties since banks and building societies will now lend you 95 times your annual wage, top it up by £50,000 per child, add £25,000 if your surname ends in ‘Y’ and give you a fantastic interest rate of only 5 per cent, provided you take out their home insurance and multiple credit card facility.
So why is the world an unhappy place? Why are people killing each other over a disputed parking space? Why are we injecting ourselves with mind-altering substances when a bottle of cider costs less than a bag of four apples?
I think we all know the answers to these questions, but unfortunately we’re afraid to admit the truth. The reason is that we are actually all guilty in some way of allowing this situation to arise. We are all greedy of wanting more for our families and for ourselves. We work over forty hours per week and then have the audacity to complain when we feel absolutely exhausted. We don’t allow ourselves time to unwind, or time to enjoy what free time we have. We sit in front of a television set watching news documentaries and reality shows that paint a morally disturbing picture of how our world is developing, yet we do nothing about it apart from moan.
Now thanks indirectly to the ‘politically correct brigade’ and over-submissive politicians, we have a society that allows the acceptance of violence and abuse to govern our lives. We can either hide behind the curtains or run to a safer domain, thus eventually creating a divided society where each party hates the other because of circumstances inevitably created by our own misgivings.
These days you only have to switch on a television news programme, any news programme on any day, and you are brainwashed with tales of abuse, corruption, and violence. It’s extremely difficult to escape from the media, eventually you start to feel the pain and horror of the poor individual whose home has been devastated by a flood, or the poor girl who has just broken up with Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor! I personally know of several mediums who will categorically not watch any news programme whatsoever as it horribly affects their energy.
And here lies the problem – negative activity creates negative energy. People who used to live together harmoniously in the seventies are nowadays less tolerant of each other. There is no socialising, unless it’s on ‘Facebook’ or ‘Twitter’, and communities very rarely thrive, they merely exist.
So where am I going with this? What’s my point? My point is merely that, yes we are open to attack from spirits, and it can be extremely frightening, but we are far more at risk from attack from the physical world in which we live in. After all, when was the last time you switched on News at Ten and found that an evil spirit had attacked someone?
The best way to protect yourself from negative energy is to imagine a golden ball of light coming down from above your head and surrounding you in a protective force field. Then imagine that this light is impregnable and protects you from all physical and spiritual harm. You must believe that you are protected and your guides will ensure that this powerful seal cannot be broken. I urge you to try this out – it really works.
I’ve seen gangs of youths walk across the street to avoid me. OK, maybe I hadn’t washed for three days, but hey they probably hadn’t either! The trick is to remove any fears and doubts and your confidence will grow, your aura will expand and your sex life will improve! Or so I’m told!
And if all else fails you could always march along the street shouting ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix’ at the top of your voice. Rest assured the gangs won’t dare mess with you and chances are that even the police will give you a wide berth – till eventually those men with white coats turn up.

Chapter 4 (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
THE EIGHTIES – THE TEENAGE YEARS (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
I went to James Hamilton Academy in Kilmarnock from 1979 to 1983. I hated it and nothing vaguely spiritual happened to me there, although I did get five ‘O’ Grades, only one of which attained a pass mark – Arithmetic. In my first year at school, I was in the top three in my class, but I fell out with one of the teachers in year two and started to rebel against the education system. I was a teenager! They should have made me study!
Actually, this is one of the big problems with teenagers. Everybody hates them and it’s not their fault!
I left school at sixteen and joined a Government Youth Training Scheme. I worked for forty-two hours a week and earned £25. These days I would need to emigrate to China to earn that kind of money. Still, it was a good learning curve for me. If you don’t put the effort in at school you work for peanuts and then get dumped at the end of the year for some other rebel without a clue.
It was during this first working year that I would often stay with my grandfather at the weekend. I can’t remember why exactly this commenced but we were both creatures of habit and we enjoyed each other’s company. My grandfather had lived alone since my grandmother passed to spirit in 1980. My mother was devastated by the loss of my grandmother and suffered terrible depression for many years after. I never really sensed my grandmother in spirit, but this was possibly due to the fact that I wasn’t very spiritually active at this time.
My grandfather was later introduced to a lady that my mother knew, and the dirty old devil asked her to marry him. They were married shortly afterwards on New Year’s Eve, but sadly I rather lost touch with my grandfather after that. He was married for just over a year when his wife died suddenly. He suffered emotionally afterwards and it was only about a year later before he himself passed over to spirit. I remember vividly the telephone ringing at two in the morning and my mother rushing to answer it. I knew what was coming, and I think she did too. We had been there before when my grandmother suffered a stroke. My grandfather spoke softly and calmly – ‘I think I’ve had a wee heart attack.’
My mother, father and sister all rushed off to the hospital after phoning for an ambulance. I decided to stay in the house – I still don’t know why, and the others never really questioned it.
I sat downstairs for a while, contemplating what was about to happen, but for some reason I knew full well what the outcome would be. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice say, ‘I’m all right now, David.’ I sat quietly, waiting for the arrival of my distraught family.
To my surprise they all returned in good spirits – no pun intended! I looked at my mother and she whispered, ‘He’s had a heart attack, but the doctor says he should be OK.’ I just looked at her and nodded. Had I been imagining the voice? Intuitively, I knew I hadn’t.
About fifteen minutes later there was a knock at our front door. My mother rushed to answer it. My uncle was standing there, shaking his head. My grandfather had died just after they left the hospital, after suffering a second, more severe heart attack. Apparently, at about the same time as I heard his voice in my lounge.
I never mentioned this to family till many years later. It didn’t seem important at the time. Fortunately my mother coped with the loss of her father much better than when her mother had died. For me, this was the first real occasion that I had communicated directly with spirit.
I’ve since found that when major events happen in my life I will always have a strong spiritual connection. Most people do. It’s just a case of recognising the signs and believing in your instincts.
In the summer of 1986, my mother, father and sister decided to take a week’s holiday in Spain. This was a traumatic time for me as I was now nineteen years old and fairly independent, so naturally I preferred to holiday with my friends. However, I was now about to stay in my big old house, with all the spooks, for a full week – all by myself! I felt both excited and terrified at the same time.
My first night came around in a flash. It was a beautiful summer’s evening and the sun didn’t set until almost ten o’clock. I went to bed apprehensively after two cans of strong lager. I remember lying in my bed thinking, ‘If anything comes in my room tonight, I’ll run out of this house naked to escape from it.’ I was deadly serious, no point in getting dressed while I’m being butchered by the ghost of Rob Roy!
Around 2am, I suddenly awoke. Fortunately it wasn’t the ‘witching hour’, but clearly something powerful was in my room. As usual I felt as if I was completely paralysed – but surprisingly on this occasion it wasn’t due to fear. I also felt an incredibly strong energy force to my right hand side and as I tried to turn my head to investigate the source of this unknown power, the force pushed my head back to its original position.
Amazingly, I then felt extremely relaxed and my eyes began to slowly close. It almost felt as though I had just been given an anaesthetic. As my eyes closed shut, I suddenly felt the force move swiftly from its original position on my right hand side, then fly over my head, before moving off out the door to my left. Almost immediately I fell into a deep and wonderful sleep.
When I awoke the next morning I felt fantastic. I had enjoyed the best night’s sleep of my life. I remembered vividly everything about the previous night’s events and couldn’t believe that I wasn’t terrified of the strange happening that had taken place. The complete opposite was in fact true. Whatever was present in that room was absolutely divine in nature and in all my life since that night, I have yet to experience again such a feeling of pure contentment. If there are angels in this world then I most certainly met one that night.
I finished my year in the labour camp of Youth Training back in 1984 and embarked on another training scheme at the end of that year. With few qualifications and very little real get up and go, I was starting to drift aimlessly towards a life of scrimping and scraping just to get by. I would visit the local job centre once or twice a week in order to give my conscience a small but nevertheless necessary boost, and on one such occasion, accompanied by my friend Kevan, yes Kevan with an ‘A’, I noticed a job advert for ‘Postal Officers’ with the Post Office.
‘I’ve already applied for that,’ remarked Kevan. ‘You have to sit an unbelievably tough aptitude test, and you need five “O” Grades just to even get past the initial selection process,’ he added sarcastically.
This was like a red rag to a bull. I didn’t honestly think I had much chance of getting an interview for this position, never mind the actual job – but don’t tell me not to apply because my prized ‘O’ levels were not of a suitable calibre! Fortunately, when I read the advert a second time it didn’t say that your five ‘O’ Grades must be passes. I was in, and after submitting my application form I was invited to sit the dreaded aptitude test.
There were at least another fifty people sitting this test, all vying for only three available jobs. Kevan had mentioned to me beforehand that nobody managed to finish the test when he had previously sat his ill-fated attempt. He also added smugly that he knew of at least three people who had multiple higher qualifications than me, and that they would probably get the jobs.
However, this wasn’t a test of academic ability or of how hard you were prepared to work to achieve your goals. No, this was an arithmetic test – and I was lightning fast at arithmetic. I was Carol Vorderman, without the legs – again, apologies if we’ve gone global!
I once sat an arithmetic test in primary school. It was the same test for the whole school, from age five to twelve. We were instructed to get friends and family to sponsor us with each correct answer receiving a specific amount of sponsorship money. I was third in the whole school, even though I was only in Primary four. I was feeling really chuffed with myself until I found out that because I only had two sponsors, my mum and dad, I raised less money than the class dunce, who must have been sponsored by the entire population of China. Still, my teacher was impressed by my arithmetic abilities, if clearly not by my marketing skills.
The Post Office aptitude test would last for thirty minutes. After ten minutes my head had surfaced, and as I gazed around the room it was evident that I was the only person who had finished. I had twenty minutes remaining and decided to double-check my answers. I only found two answers that needed to be amended. I was then convinced that I had every answer correct. I sat for the next fifteen minutes watching my fellow competitors chip away at their task, before the adjudicator announced that the given time had elapsed. There were muffled groans as the other applicants realised that they had fallen short of the required standard. I walked home feeling that I must have done enough for an interview, but that I’d probably mess up if it got to that stage.
I received a call that same afternoon from someone at the Post Office informing me that ‘Obviously you know that you passed the test, would you come for an interview next week?’ I had in fact been for several interviews recently and got absolutely nowhere, so I did not share too much optimism about being successful this time in a job that paid far more money than any of the others. However, as I walked into that interview room and was formally introduced to the two interviewers from the Post Office, I intuitively knew before a word had even been spoken that I would be offered the job. In fact, I could have jumped on the knee of either man, smacked him in the face with a wet fish, while singing Dixie – and still have got the job. I didn’t bother with Dixie, but I did get that job.
When I told Kevan about my success I could see he was both surprised and a bit jealous. Kevan was the opposite of me. He was a hard worker and showed great determination to succeed. He suffered from an illness that often held him back, but eventually he would recover and move down to Manchester, becoming both very successful and wealthy. I, on the other hand, would work for the Post Office for the next twenty years.
At first it was a difficult job, but it was a valued profession and I felt privileged to be a part of such a well thought-of organisation. Latterly, though, the job became a nightmare and I became embarrassed by how it was being run. In fact, the rumour was that you could murder your own mother and still get a job with the Post Office.
I worked at the Post Office counter and met some amazing people in my time there. I also met some right nutters!
Still, as an eighteen-year-old single guy, earning over £100 per week in 1985, I had the world at my feet.
Unfortunately, there was one particular thing blocking any potential spiritual development. I had been introduced to alcohol. I would drink four nights a week – Thursday to Sunday. I had nothing else to spend my hard-earned cash on and I decided to live the good life!
My teenage years were coming to an end, roll on the nineties. Somehow I had managed to land a decent job, despite that decadent spell in my teenage years. I could now start to be positive about my life for the first time in five years. Job Done!

Chapter 5 (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
THE NINETIES – A TIME FOR CHANGE (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
The start of the nineties brought very little change to my fast-becoming-decadent lifestyle. I was still going out four nights a week for excessive amounts of alcohol, and I had even endured a two week drinking binge in Ibiza that culminated in yours truly spending a night in the cells for being drunk and disorderly.
In Kilmarnock, I would regularly go out on a Thursday night with my friend Bobby. Friday night was usually with Cameron, Saturday night with Fraser and Sunday night with whoever could still stand. Kevan with an ‘A’ would often join us on a Saturday, although he didn’t drink alcohol. Kevan’s job was to get us all home safely, and of course to inform us of what we got up to the previous evening! Occasionally, Bobby, Fraser and I would also go to our local pub on a Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, if we were bored. I got bored very easily. I remember scouring the pubs of Kilmarnock with Fraser one Christmas Day, pleading with landlords to let us in out of the wind and rain.
It had to stop and eventually it did – we met women. I never really had many girlfriends in my twenties. I would flirt with pretty office workers when they visited my workplace, but if I met them in the pub I usually completely embarrassed myself due to being drunk.
However Fraser started dating a girl that we used to socialise with and thankfully my alcohol intake started to decrease since my drinking accomplice was otherwise engaged! Fraser and I used to drink for seven hours solid on a Saturday night until we actually started to sober up, before eventually crawling home to our respective pits.
It was shortly afterwards that I met my wife to be, Anne. Anne studied at college with Bobby and we used to talk occasionally in the pub. Eventually I plucked up the courage to ask her out.
I had finally met someone that I wanted to get to know better. We started to see each other three or four times a week and very soon became inseparable. I was happier than I had ever been and there was no booze involved – well, only the occasional vodka or two.
While we were dating, Anne suggested that we get a Tarot card reading. A certain psychic had previously told Anne that she would meet a guy called David with a sister called Susan. Guess my sister’s name? – go on! It’s Angela! – No it really is Susan!
I was a bit sceptical at first. This woman seemed too good to be true. I was worried that she might be the kind of medium who will tell you warts and all: ‘You’re going to have three kids, one will die in a car crash, one will become a transvestite, and the other will end up in prison.’
I was first to receive a reading. I deliberately kept my answers brief to gauge the psychic’s reaction. She commented that I was difficult to read and couldn’t really see much, although she did say that I would pass my driving test, which, to be fair, I was actually about to sit just a week later. Mind you, Anne’s car was outside with ‘L’ plates on – what a cynic I am! Meanwhile Anne received her reading and then rather oddly refused to tell me anything about it.
The next day Anne informed me that the Tarot reader thought she would die in ‘a crushing of metal’, but that it wouldn’t happen for a long time. I was horrified that she had been told this. To me, this was bad mediumship. You don’t tell a client how she is going to die, no matter the circumstances. Furthermore, no spirit would ever divulge this sort of information. Why would they wish to frighten their loved one?
I told Anne that I thought it was nonsense and she smiled approvingly, although I knew that she still believed the medium to be correct. After all, if you tell someone the name of the person they are going to marry, and get it spot on, then you will have inherited a strange power over that person – the power to frighten and to manipulate.
OK, I’m back. Did you notice Black Hawk’s influence coming in there? You’ll get used to it. I know I have, even though these horns on my head are getting extremely heavy!
So where were we? Oh yes, Anne and I met in 1990, got engaged in 1992, and surprise, surprise, married in 1993 – all very normal and straightforward. And so it was. Life was good, I was happy. My job was stress-free and I was living with somebody who made me feel much more confident about myself, without having to resort to alcohol. We moved in together in 1992 to a small two-bed semi in Kilmarnock. The house was only about five years old but I soon identified some peculiar spiritual activity within. The house was built on the site of an old ceramics factory and I felt certain that workers who may have died there were wandering around my house.
We had only been living there for a few weeks when one afternoon Anne had left me decorating our bathroom, while she went shopping of course. Suddenly I became aware of the handle of the bathroom door being pushed down as if someone was trying to come in. I presumed that Anne had just returned early from her shopping trip so I naturally continued with my decorating. After about ten minutes had passed I suddenly heard a strange whistling sound from outside the bathroom door. As I knew that Anne couldn’t whistle, I decided to investigate. There was nobody outside and Anne was definitely not in our house – we had a lodger!
We stayed in that house for nine years and it was a surprisingly happy house with just the three of us! There were many paranormal experiences and I was sure that a young boy in spirit was responsible. I don’t know why he was with us, or where he died, but he never intended to cause us harm. He certainly didn’t want to crush us in metal!
When we later moved house in the year 2000 I’m sure he missed us, as the lady who bought our house telephoned me shortly afterwards, in a state of alarm. The carbon monoxide detector that was situated just inside the front door had gone off during the night and as a result the Gas authorities had switched off her gas supply as a precaution. She wondered if I had ever had any problems with the detector as she claimed that it would start beeping and then suddenly stop, before starting again. She had been informed by British Gas that detectors don’t normally work this way and they couldn’t understand why it was even going off in the first place as there was definitely no gas escaping from the house. I told her that it was probably a faulty detector and that I would buy her a new model. When my wife asked what the problem was I told her that our wee boy was simply missing us, but had started to play with his new friend!
During this period of my life my main interest was song writing. When I say it was an interest, it was more like an obsession. I would write and record my own songs before sending them off to people like Simon Cowell, who would subsequently flush them down his toilet. It was an expensive hobby and one that was always really destined to fail. I always felt that I had the ability to succeed but the music business is like the lottery, there are millions of hopefuls looking for that one big prize – and ultimately greed and ego govern that prize.
I also played in several bands as a guitarist. We were never very good; in fact we were total rubbish. How we never got a record deal I’ll never know!
The nineties came and disappeared in a flash. The millennium would soon be upon us and my life would suddenly change quite drastically. The quiet, peaceful, happy life that I had enjoyed for the last nine years or so was about to become a roller coaster ride of emotions and a prelude to my spiritual re-awakening.
Incidentally, I did pass my driving test. Job done!
Now where did I park that ‘metal crushing’ Tonka truck?

Chapter 6 (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
THE MILLENNIUM (#ulink_57cbbe6d-e1e8-5b53-bec7-69225d22dd36)
As the year 2000 rapidly approached, the world held its breath hoping our everyday lives wouldn’t collapse under a cloud of smouldering mass hysteria, for apparently we were being held to ransom by a mysterious phenomenon known simply as the ‘millennium bug’.
And as the clock tentatively crept past midnight on the 1
of January 2000, we all cheered and celebrated the birth of a great new century. But secretly our minds were full of worry for our video recorders and microwave ovens. Would they suddenly sprout arms and legs and attack us with fireballs from their failed digital timers?
We still don’t know who started the rumours about technology being corrupted by the dawn of this new era that we now suddenly found ourselves in. Yes, we had arrived safely in 2000, and thankfully our computers still showed the correct time and date. But why wouldn’t they?
You see, time is not a universal force of nature. Time does not have the ability to cause the world to change course or indeed to end the world. Time is simply a man-made measurement of physical decay.
Of course, scientists will argue that time is relevant to all scientific experiments and almost all of the laws of natural physics. And they would be correct. However, this only applies to the physical world – not the laws of the spirit world, and ultimately not the laws of the universe as a whole.
If you were to consider that the spirit world has no physical restrictions, then wouldn’t the measurement of time be totally irrelevant? If spirits wished to travel from one place to another, no matter the distance perceived by us, and there was no physical mass to be carried during that journey, then we can logically assume that the spirit energy would reach that destination instantaneously. In actual fact, spirits travel so fast that they can realistically be in more than one place at the exact same time. So how do they do it? Well, you will ultimately find out one day, but meanwhile I will try and explain the process in simplified terms.
Let’s imagine you are in a dream. You see something in your dream that reminds you of a place that you once visited, and suddenly you are there, in that exact place that you imagined. And, after arriving instantly, you will never remember how you quite got there. Furthermore, you aren’t imagining it, you really have been transported to that place by your thoughts, and those thoughts are real to you.
Some psychics call this phenomenon ‘astral travel’. Try it tonight when you go to sleep, or even in meditation. You can go wherever you want – as long as it’s not North Korea, they won’t let you in!
Travelling at this supersonic speed can have its advantages. Spirits can develop the ability to look into our future, as without time delays the future can suddenly become the present! This is how mediums and psychics can access your future via spirit contact.
Of course, there are also disadvantages. Spirit energy functions at a far higher vibration than what our physical senses perceive. If you can imagine a cheetah flying past a tortoise and trying to say hello on the way past, then you will appreciate how difficult it can be for the two parties to effectively communicate. That is the main reason why most of us human beings are not openly aware of spiritual energy. The trick is to condition our mind in order to shut out all distractions, thus allowing spirit energy to come forward and meet us halfway. We may still only get part of the message as the energy attempts to enter our thoughts, and this is also why spirit communication can be particularly inconsistent. Both parties will be attempting desperately to make sense of each other and inevitably mistakes will be made. But when they do suddenly click – it’s magical!
I hope you are all still with me at this point, for the spirit world is a complex environment where you are always learning and developing new skills. I have been informed that even my knowledge of the spiritual world is fairly limited and won’t realistically begin to develop until I pass over to the higher dimension.
I have regularly communicated with spirits who have lived many lives and been progressively developing in the spirit world for centuries, and who are also still learning new ways to enhance their knowledge of universal life.
To try and fully understand how the spirit world works in relation to the physical world would be like trying to count the number of fish in the sea. By the time you eventually reached a conclusion, the number of fish would naturally have changed due to the continuing development of nature.
The universe is indeed constantly changing. Each day brings new lives to the physical world and returns souls to the spirit world, thus affecting the universal axis of life. Rather than attempt to fully understand the process, it is much more beneficial to embrace the ideals behind this chain of events.
A question that I am often asked is, ‘Has our future already been decided?’ The answer is most definitely NO!
We’ve all heard of Karma and the law of ‘cause and effect’. Every one of us is responsible for our own acts or thoughts and as such we are responsible for our own individual Karma. Nothing has yet to be decided.
If a medium gives someone a message regarding their future then that message has come from a spirit who has been able to retrieve that information by the means previously suggested. However, that does not mean that the event has already taken place. It has still to happen here in the physical world and we have the choice to decide which course of action to take that is our Karma.
So, in actual fact, each choice that we make, each word that we say, each letter that I type on my keyboard, every sound that we make, every step that we take – determines our Karma, and furthermore determines our destiny. Only you can live your life and it is far better to live a life of mistakes, than forsake a life full of regrets.
At this point, may I recommend that you stop reading, bookmark the page, and give yourself some time to try and digest what Mr Chung has just transcribed. If you have just read this chapter in bed, then please don’t continue reading till the next day. You should have a wonderful night’s sleep.
Ultimately though, it’s your choice – your Karma. Sleep well.

Chapter 7 (#ulink_d5636c62-7533-5067-b862-0e734a0b551d)
A NEW HOUSE FOR A NEW CENTURY (#ulink_d5636c62-7533-5067-b862-0e734a0b551d)
After the millennium celebrations had come and gone, thankfully with no global disasters, Anne and I made a decision to put our house on the market – it would be a new century and a new start for both of us. But after a couple of fruitless months we began to wonder if we were ever going to get a buyer. The housing market at that time was pretty stagnant and we lived in the proverbial ‘Fort Apache the Bronx’, a private estate bang, slap in the middle of the worst area in Kilmarnock.
To be fair, we rarely saw or heard much from the ‘Apaches’ that surrounded us, except at Halloween when the young bucks would venture into the heart of our fortress and attempt to ravage all manner of treasures from our humble abode. You won’t be surprised to hear that they didn’t need a costume to scare the living daylights out of the residents of our besieged estate.
Anyway, one cold Saturday morning in February, we received a telephone call from our estate agent. They were sending us two independent parties of viewers who they reckoned were sure to be interested in our property. Only two days earlier, I had walked down a quiet lane in a particularly leafy suburban area of Kilmarnock, admiring the surrounding neighbourhood and all of its appealing qualities, when suddenly a voice spoke to me clearly and precisely from within my mind: ‘You will sell your house at the weekend and purchase a house in this area only two days later.’ Wow! This was some prediction, although I knew from experience that it would almost certainly come true.
Our first viewing party arrived promptly at 11am, just enough time for Anne to wave her magic duster. The house looked immaculate and the viewers, a middle-aged couple who had just sold their house, seemed ideal buyers. They appeared to be extremely enthusiastic about our house and in fact the gentleman wanted to make a verbal offer right there and then. I told him he would need to contact the estate agent as they would inevitably take care of business. Anne nodded to me reassuringly just after they had left. ‘They will buy, I’m sure of it,’ she remarked confidently. I kept deliberately quiet. The day was young and there was still some competition arriving this afternoon. Could we have a bidding war on our hands after having had so little interest in our house for the previous three weeks?
The second viewing party arrived ten minutes later than had been prearranged with the estate agent. Anne wasn’t too perturbed, she had already decided that the previous couple would buy our house, so what happened in the afternoon would be totally irrelevant. A single woman in her early thirties arrived accompanied by her friend. She was very nice, although she didn’t display nearly as much enthusiasm as the previous viewers and in fact gave the impression that she wasn’t too impressed by the surrounding area. What was her problem? Halloween was almost nine months away!
After she had left, Anne commented that thankfully we still had the previous viewer, as the young woman clearly wasn’t interested in our lovely little house. Again, I stayed deliberately silent.
It was around four o’clock in the afternoon when the telephone suddenly rang, about an hour after the second viewer had left. As it began to ring I told my wife to quickly answer it, as the young woman would be requesting a second viewing. Anne gave me a puzzled look as she picked up the receiver, before subsequently giving me a wry smile. Sure enough the young woman was indeed requesting another appointment. She had contacted our estate agent, who was now subsequently calling us with the good news, adding that the first couple hated our house and were looking for something much bigger!
It was at this point that I decided to tell Anne about my prediction and how we would soon be living in our new house in the swanky cul-de-sac.
The young woman returned and after enquiring about the surrounding neighbourhood I did inform her it was normally very quiet, not mentioning Halloween of course she made us an acceptable offer. Job done.
Our estate agent telephoned us the very next morning. There was a house just about to come on the market and she thought it was absolutely ideal for us. This house was situated near to the mystical lane where I had my prediction.
The house was large and in need of some TLC, but the estate agent commented that the seller was desperate to move out and that if we acted quickly enough we could perhaps make an offer before the house was even officially placed on the market.
We did act quickly, we made an offer, it was accepted, and we arranged to move into our new home in only six weeks’ time. As spirit had previously predicted – all accomplished in only two days!
The new house was originally built around 1930 and apparently there had only been two previous tenants in all this time. However, from the moment I walked in the front door I could sense a hive of spiritual activity. More importantly though, there were no hostile inhabitants, apart from the odd cockroach or two!
That said, the house was clearly under a cloud of depression. Upon entering it I felt immediately as if I was suffering from a lot of heartache, although as I mentioned earlier, the house was still surprisingly welcoming. It was almost as if the house was saying, ‘Please come in and make me happy.’ I did find out some months later that the family who previously lived here had split up and there was a lot of heartbreak involved. However, the spirits who inhabited the house were not directly involved with this family, they were just reacting to the poor energy that had been created and which now lay dormant within the walls of the building.
Spirit will work with us to try and redress energy that has become stale. It is important to note that we must work in tandem with them to accomplish this task. If we remain positive in our work, then spirit will be able to work closer with us to achieve a happy and more positive energy environment. Even simply redecorating a room can lift the energy in a positive way.
Our house needed a lot of energy redressing. We redecorated all the rooms and slowly but surely began to brighten up all the furnishings. As each room was completed, I began to feel a sense of peace and calm progressively developing within the house. The level of spiritual activity also started to decrease as the spirits became more content, knowing that we were winning the battle to save our home.
Many people who view a potential new home will automatically dismiss the property if stale energy is present. We can all sense this energy. It’s not negative energy; and it’s not straight from the breath of Emily Rose. It’s just energy, simple as that. We’ve all walked into a depressing looking building and immediately felt depressed. If that building is then given a makeover then we suddenly feel more positive within its habitat. There are many television programmes highlighting the fact that a simple colour scheme and a dab of Feng Shui can completely transform the glummest of apartments into a palace of solitude fit for young executives with too much money and too little taste.
The point I’m trying to make is that we don’t need to perform an exorcism in order to rid a house of bad or stale energy. This type of energy is almost certainly caused by human misery, and unfortunately a lack of love. You just need to bring love back to the house; love each other and that house will love you back!
Anne and I brought love back to our new house and I felt that the spirits who visited us were content, happy in the knowledge that the previously depressing energy had been redressed and that we could all now live in harmony.
I can vividly remember two of my friends paying me a visit, two or maybe three weeks after our initial move. I opened the front door and they walked briskly by me, both of them curiously glancing up to the top of our staircase which led to three upstairs bedrooms, before entering our lounge and proceeding to open their cans of beer. It was a football night – an excuse really for these two guys to come and escape from their partners for a while, and for Anne and me to show off our new abode!
Before I even had the chance to join them on the sofa, Anne popped her head round from the corner of the kitchen door just to say hello and be sociable in the way that women do when there’s a football match on television and ironing to do in the kitchen!
Suddenly my two friends jumped up simultaneously from the sofa. They both looked at Anne; they then looked at me, before finally staring at the lounge door that led to the hallway, through which they had just momentarily passed.
Apparently both of them had seen a woman walking down the stairs as they had entered our house, assuming it was Anne, yet here was Anne in the kitchen – which clearly wasn’t connected to the hallway. How could she have passed them both without them noticing?
For a moment they just looked at me. I could tell they were extremely confused and frightened by what they had just witnessed and I knew they wanted me to give them some sort of assurance that they hadn’t indeed just seen an apparition.
I was actually pretty surprised myself. I had also witnessed the woman walking down the stairs, but I was even more surprised that my friends had also seen her. Three people witnessing an apparition is fantastic evidence of paranormal phenomena.

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