“After I have explained some things to you, it's likely that you'll think I'm crazy.” (Do those words sound familiar?)
He continued, telling me that he also had experienced the vibrations, and he described exactly everything that he had felt.
I knew that he was telling the truth because only someone who had experienced those weird sensations could possibly know, and describe, the things that he knew. Then, looking hard at me, he said:
“You are not going to believe what I am going to say next, but you will remember, and when the time is right, full understanding will be yours.
“You are a medium, a natural medium, and you have a guide, a very strong and powerful spiritual guide, who, one day soon, will make himself known to you. This spirit guide will be your mentor, your teacher in all things. I can't tell you who it is, I don't know him. But I can tell you this, he is one of the strongest forces I have ever come across in all the years that I have been involved in spiritualism.”
He then went on to tell me a little more about spirit guides and told me that his guide, a Native American chief called Red Feather, was a healing guide who helped many healers in their spiritual work.
“What has happened here tonight,” he continued, “is that my guide, Red Feather, has met and acknowledged your guide. When we held hands our guides, yours and mine, joined forces, and the tremendous surge of energy which we then felt was enough, literally, to knock us both off our feet.”
This was the first time I had heard mention of spirit guides, and strangely I was willing to accept the possibility of such things. But to expect me to believe in the existence of a ghostly Indian chief…? Oh, no! That really sounded too farfetched and impossible, and I told him so.
“You're right,” I said, “I don't believe you, and I definitely think that you are crazy.”
The healer man laughed at this, and with a knowing smile, which I found very disconcerting, he took his leave. His parting shot to me, as he walked out of the door, was this: “You think that I'm crazy, and you also doubt your own sanity, but very soon now you will be shown just how sane we both are. Remember,” he said, “you are on the threshold of a new life. Don't be afraid!”
The following Wednesday evening came around quickly—too quickly, in fact, for I had not yet made up my mind whether or not to continue with Irene and Paul in what they had called my psychic development. The three of us had had many discussions over the two weeks we had been working together. Paul’s instincts had told him that my development was important, but he was unsure about the reasons. We had no goal in mind, just a need to explore. Even though I had known them only a short time, my instincts told me that they genuinely wanted to help me, and I trusted them. But the doubts about myself persisted.
Sitting at home, weighing the pros and cons of the matter, had only seemed to confuse me more, so finally I decided to give it one more try—just one!
I arrived at the Denhams’ house late and a little bit flustered, so I didn’t notice, as I pulled into their drive, that there was another car parked, unfamiliar to me.
Irene was waiting for me at the door and showed me through to the kitchen, where, hardly giving myself time to get off my coat, I began to explain my feelings.
“I’m not sure,” I began. “I just don’t know whether I am able to handle all of this psychic stuff.”
Almost as if reading my mind, Irene replied, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Let’s just give it one more try, shall we? And if you still feel unsure, then we’ll stop until you’re ready to try again. How’s that?”
With a sigh of relief, I nodded, and as Irene put the kettle on to make tea, I made my way into the sitting room—only to find myself confronted by another obstacle.
“Hello,” said a voice as I walked into the room, and I found myself, once again, face-to-face with the
He continued, telling me that he also had experienced the vibrations, and he described exactly everything that he had felt.
I knew that he was telling the truth because only someone who had experienced those weird sensations could possibly know, and describe, the things that he knew. Then, looking hard at me, he said:
“You are not going to believe what I am going to say next, but you will remember, and when the time is right, full understanding will be yours.
“You are a medium, a natural medium, and you have a guide, a very strong and powerful spiritual guide, who, one day soon, will make himself known to you. This spirit guide will be your mentor, your teacher in all things. I can't tell you who it is, I don't know him. But I can tell you this, he is one of the strongest forces I have ever come across in all the years that I have been involved in spiritualism.”
He then went on to tell me a little more about spirit guides and told me that his guide, a Native American chief called Red Feather, was a healing guide who helped many healers in their spiritual work.
“What has happened here tonight,” he continued, “is that my guide, Red Feather, has met and acknowledged your guide. When we held hands our guides, yours and mine, joined forces, and the tremendous surge of energy which we then felt was enough, literally, to knock us both off our feet.”
This was the first time I had heard mention of spirit guides, and strangely I was willing to accept the possibility of such things. But to expect me to believe in the existence of a ghostly Indian chief…? Oh, no! That really sounded too farfetched and impossible, and I told him so.
“You're right,” I said, “I don't believe you, and I definitely think that you are crazy.”
The healer man laughed at this, and with a knowing smile, which I found very disconcerting, he took his leave. His parting shot to me, as he walked out of the door, was this: “You think that I'm crazy, and you also doubt your own sanity, but very soon now you will be shown just how sane we both are. Remember,” he said, “you are on the threshold of a new life. Don't be afraid!”
The following Wednesday evening came around quickly—too quickly, in fact, for I had not yet made up my mind whether or not to continue with Irene and Paul in what they had called my psychic development. The three of us had had many discussions over the two weeks we had been working together. Paul’s instincts had told him that my development was important, but he was unsure about the reasons. We had no goal in mind, just a need to explore. Even though I had known them only a short time, my instincts told me that they genuinely wanted to help me, and I trusted them. But the doubts about myself persisted.
Sitting at home, weighing the pros and cons of the matter, had only seemed to confuse me more, so finally I decided to give it one more try—just one!
I arrived at the Denhams’ house late and a little bit flustered, so I didn’t notice, as I pulled into their drive, that there was another car parked, unfamiliar to me.
Irene was waiting for me at the door and showed me through to the kitchen, where, hardly giving myself time to get off my coat, I began to explain my feelings.
“I’m not sure,” I began. “I just don’t know whether I am able to handle all of this psychic stuff.”
Almost as if reading my mind, Irene replied, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Let’s just give it one more try, shall we? And if you still feel unsure, then we’ll stop until you’re ready to try again. How’s that?”
With a sigh of relief, I nodded, and as Irene put the kettle on to make tea, I made my way into the sitting room—only to find myself confronted by another obstacle.
“Hello,” said a voice as I walked into the room, and I found myself, once again, face-to-face with the
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