In this life-affirming book, author David Shaw explores ten major themes that affect us all – and offers a unique way to engage with them.

Whether it’s fear or forgiveness, credence or clarity, materialism or acceptance, Shaw gives us the benefit of ten spiritual authors who pen their intriguing and stimulating words through him as modern parables.

In doing so they offer us a steadying rudder in the choppy, often violent, sea of life’s cruelties and uncertainties.

Presenting an engaging and fascinating blend of fiction and nonfiction, Ghost Writers presents in a non-stuffy style information whose light-hearted humour belies its powerful emotional punch.

So sit back, relax and share David’s absorbing, gripping and spellbinding journey of a lifetime – and beyond.

Also by David Shaw

An Average Joe’s Search for the Meaning of Life

Ghost Writers

David Shaw

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2014

Copyright © David Shaw 2014

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 2014 ISBN: 9781474008457

Version date: 2018-10-30

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& Twitter @sp_counsellor

Thank you to my editor, Victoria, and all the other staff at HQ Digital and Harlequin. Also, thanks to Dean Lewis for all his editing expertise and encouragement.

Big thanks to author Carol Arnall for continued support and encouragement. Thanks to my family for putting up with this mad psychic for ever. And special thanks to my friends for not laughing at me too much!

Thank you to everyone at 3tfm for allowing me to air my views on the radio, especially to my co-host Robert for giving me the opportunity to work with him on The Para Normal Show.

To everyone on Facebook, Twitter etc. who has supported this book – my indebted thanks. You all know who you are – much appreciated!

Heartfelt thanks go to the spirit team who have made this book possible. I know that there were many of you working behind the scenes to ensure that the writers were able to come forward. As always, Mr Chung, SiBir and Black Hawk – forever in your debt.

And last but not least, the ghost writers. It’s been a privilege to work alongside you on this project. I have learnt more than you will ever know.

To Morag – a great friend and neighbour

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgement

Dedication

Foreword

Introduction

Chapter One: Materialism

Chapter Two: Forgiveness

Chapter Three: Fearlessness

Chapter Four: Self-Belief

Chapter Five: Education

Chapter Six: Patience

Chapter Seven: Credence

Chapter Eight: Tolerance

Chapter Nine: Clarity

Chapter Ten: Acceptance

Denouement

Afterword

Extract

Endpages

About the Publisher

Foreword

I talk to the dead. There, I’ve said it, now you can start laughing, unless you’re dead of course as the dead can still read books too!

I’ve always been able to communicate with those of us who have passed over to another world; it was only ever my lack of awareness of this fact that continually stifled my early progression through life. And as for the dead – well, that’s just a myth: nobody dies, we all just turn into butterflies that flutter through the minds of those we love, hoping that they might notice us and heed our advice. After all, the dead should now know that life is not terminal, nor is the notion that love is lost whenever we leave this world. In reality, we are only ever as dead as the morbid thoughts that imprison us.

Through my extensive work with the spirit dimension, I have been given the opportunity to work with the ‘the big team’ as I like to call them. The knowledge brought forward by this highly advanced spiritual group is incomparable, but I can only ever ask that you take my word for this. Their only request is that I write about the reality of life, no fantasy or fairy-tale – just life as it is laid bare for every soul that should grace our shores.

Thankfully, I have been blessed with some extra hired help for this project. I’m forever being reminded that the greatest spirit mediums on this side of life have always been the creative minds – artists, composers and authors. Therefore, ‘the big team’ have invited ten of the greatest writers ever assembled to come back and share their stories through my very own mediumship.

It is not important which particular writer comes forward to work with me, nor is it absolutely necessary to know how I receive the information that’s brought forward, but it is essential that you attempt to understand the underlying message being relayed by each writer – that is all they ask. And who knows, you may find that you have been guided towards this book by a loved one from the land of the dead. Perhaps a little butterfly has attracted your attention and now wishes to send you a sign of their love from afar. If that should be the case then grasp this opportunity – I promise that you won’t regret it.

Finally, please remember that the next breath that you take is always the most important one – I hope it’s filled with the kindness that you deserve.

Introduction

Hello. My name is David and if this is the first time we’ve met then the honour is surely all mine. If we have met before through my other books then it’s great to meet up again. How have you been? Still trying to put the world to rights? Me too! Let’s have another go. It’s us against them…just as it has always been.

Now then, what’s all this ghost writing business when it’s at home? And furthermore, exactly whose ghosts do I intend to write with? Well, all will be revealed soon, and, believe me, you won’t be disappointed!

I must admit that I’ve been wallowing in self-pity for the last few months, wondering what to do next. Should I start a novel? Should I concentrate on promoting my other books? Or should I just do what I do best – set the dinner table; ignite the oven; invite friends round for a feast, before serving the most wonderful food that you can ever imagine? Not cooked by me, of course. I am only the server, the messenger or sometimes just the choreographer — nothing more and nothing less.

What we are about to embark on today is quite unique. This book will endorse ten spiritual commandments. However, there will be no parting of the Red Sea, nor will Charlton Heston need to search for his wooden staff and sandals! These commandments are only meant for guidance, so they’re more like polite requests. It’s your choice whether you wish to heed this advice or carry on with your merry way. That’s the beauty of the spiritual world – it won’t strike you down with lightning if you make different choices. But if you’re like me, and every now and again you tend to drift away from your spiritual roots, then this book may just give you the gentle kick up the ass that should hopefully bring you right back on track.

To help us along the way, there will be some celebrity guests appearing. Ten different spiritual authors will grace this book with short, fictional stories that will hopefully marry the factual words brought forward by my guides in spirit. At this stage I do not know who these authors are but I do know that their influence will be remarkable.

So, non-fiction and fiction in the same book! What next? Is there anybody else invited to the dinner table? I can’t wait to find out.

As before, my role in this book is to simply receive knowledge from the spirit world and pass this information on to you. And if you choose to dine with such divinity then I can promise you that you will leave this book a far better person in the eyes of those whose journey you share.

And when the last ass has been firmly kicked, we can reflect on this momentous feast of knowledge received, before embarking on the next part of our voyage of discovery.

Napkins at the ready – shall we begin? Why not?

Chapter One: Materialism

Now then, where did we leave it? Oh, yes, at the conclusion of New Mediumship – our second helping of this lung-sapping marathon of knowledge brought to you by Spirits Inc. And now, the end is near, and so we face the final episode (sorry, Frank) of our trilogy of hope for the future…for mankind …for the sake of true and unconditional love!

STOP right there! No more lovey-dovey nonsense; angels in heaven spreading their wings over our manically depressed flock; love and light all around us like some kind of halogen stalker; Archangel Metatarsal and his cosmic ramblings from a nicer Galaxy than ours… NO!

As before, we are not that kind of book. So, if you’ve just joined us and you don’t want to know the score, you can look away now. There are numerous self-help books aplenty that empower the notion that only positive thinking can save the world and they’re beautifully written. And they will make you feel good. But so will morphine – for a while. In actual fact, if you are living a life of extreme poverty, where just finding enough food to eat is a marathon in itself, then no amount of positive thinking alone can realistically break this ingrained mould. Nevertheless, a life borne through this means is no less important, nor valuable, than any life of material luxury. Of that, I can promise you.

To be fair, positive thinking is important to all of us. It can give someone living within extreme hardship the willpower to keep going; to feel a part of life itself and to feel love in its most powerful form. But it won’t necessarily get you a BMW.

This spiritual kick up the ass is simply a reminder to all of us that life is merely a test of our worth as individuals. There are many trapdoors set throughout our journey. This book will show you how to avoid falling down them. It will also show you that if you do fall down one, you can easily climb back up a more knowledgeable soul, and a more spiritual individual.

An Average Joe was the first instalment and highlighted my own roller-coaster ride through life’s perils and permutations. New Mediumship then gave us the impetus to seek meaning in everything that surrounds us, aided by the knowledge of Master Guides, Mr Chung & SiBir. Now, Ghost Writers sets our wheels in motion. So, let’s now attempt to put everything that we have learned into practical use. Let us try to help our neighbour live a life not less worthy than what we would expect of ourselves. And please let us do this regardless of the choices that anyone has made, or the path that they have selected for themselves.

You may have heard this quote before and I make no apologies for going over old ground. ‘There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility.’ Mark Twain.

Please remember these words and you will never stray far from the correct path.

* * *

When the dinosaurs first roamed our Earth in search of food, and perhaps other dinosaurs ‘to play with’ (it’s a family book!), there wasn’t technically that much wrong with our world. Okay, the big guys would normally eat the little guys, but has that changed much today? Not really, except for maybe the smarter guys eating the thick ones. No, what’s really changed is the complex nature of our lives today. Back in the days of Barney and Godzilla, our Jurassic friends lived a life of simplistic harmony that revolved around a natural cycle of being born, breathing, sleeping and dying. Freud suggested that man and beast will never really alter their primal instincts to hunt and survive – but realistically, who are we kidding? We don’t need to hunt for food now that Tesco delivers twenty-four hours a day. Nor do we need to fight each other to eat this food, unless it’s Lindor Milk Truffles (I’d kill for them!).

Our world today is based on the hypothesis that the more you have in the way of possessions, the more you strive to increase your load. Materialism in any fashion is simply just the result of self-progression through fears of being left behind. The effects of stimulation ensure that our brains are motivated just enough to stay in the race and the more we are motivated, the more we feed off every branch of the material tree.

But is this addiction to bettering oneself responsible for much of the world’s problems today? No – it’s responsible for all of the problems in our brave new world, and the sooner we address this problem, the sooner we can start again – right back to when Barney was just a little purple egg!

But wait! If we have nothing left to motivate or stimulate us then what’s left in the cupboard to keep us from eating each other like our prehistoric friends? Hasn’t man developed significantly enough through centuries of iconic inventions and innovating discoveries to deserve the right to choose his own way of life? The answer is, undoubtedly, yes. After all, we are here in the physical world to experience the effects of emotional involvement in every capacity. But, if the results of these endeavours lay privy to the detriment of many who are unable to follow in these footsteps, then perhaps a revaluation is indeed in order.

If that is the case, then what should we do with our precious timeframe here on Earth, whilst the strands of time welt our bodies like the melting wax from seven billion candles? Well, we could maybe talk more openly to each other and discover what values we appreciate in life. We could listen more intently with a view to appreciating those values without fear or judgement. We could even tear off all of our clothes, run naked into the street, before shouting out to the world that it’s simply great to be alive and to be able to feel everything around us in all of its natural beauty.

If we were to strip ourselves (not again!) of all material possessions, what would we have left to stimulate our poor insatiable brain? What would we do when all the talking, listening and streaking had left us scratching our heads with boredom? One answer could be to assist those less fortunate than ourselves to live a fulfilled life where a caring, compassionate society exists. This sounds a fairly straightforward task. But, in all the millions of years that man has walked this Earth with a self-professed superiority based on pure intellect alone, we have never completely managed this feat on a universal scale. Sure, we’ve had notable periods like the 1960s, where music and culture rose up against the war machine and for a while gave it a run for its money. But, inevitably, power and greed prevailed as the prime motivation for the young and the restless, and the world returned to an endless cycle of incessant stimulation, resulting in ever-increasing divisions within society.

Nowadays, as we still find ourselves caught up in the backlash of the great banking crash of the early ‘noughties’, the spectre of materialism ironically still lies at the door of even the most frugal of suburban households. Of course, it doesn’t help that technical gadgets are now so cheap and plentiful that these comparative luxury items of yesteryear are now affordable to nearly everyone who desires them. A recent study by the UN reported that, in India, more people have access to a mobile phone than to a toilet. Where’s the logic in that? I know that India is a profoundly spiritual country, but surely it’s much better that you refrain from buying your children the latest smartphone if it means they don’t have to shit in the street. Seriously though, it is a worrying statistic and it suggests that materialism is now becoming a global problem and not just confined to those trying to keep up with ‘The Joneses’.

Another statistic that sounds even more alarming is that if you took the bank account interest accrued from the combined wealth of the top 103 wealthiest people on Earth for just one year, then it would completely wipe out world poverty. Just think about that for a moment: just the interest accrued – not even touching the amount of money owned by these individuals! It is true that some of the world’s wealthiest people are the biggest donators to charity, but come on! Instead of the superpowers gathering together at an annual summit to try and save our planet, why don’t the aforementioned 103 tycoons get together and do the right thing? Sounds easy, but it would be like trying to convince an overweight child that too many sweets can be bad for you.

So what’s the answer, then? Should we all give up everything we own and send it to the Third World? Of course not! Each and every one of us has to decide the best way forward for our own life and we shall be judged on our own choices when the time comes. Extravagance can be tolerated, but overindulgence should always be carefully monitored. When we return to the spirit realm the same question will always be asked – could I have done more for my fellow human being? The answer must be truthful and can often be tinged with great shame and remorse. There are sure to be at least 103 of them falling into this category. Nevertheless, that’s why we are here in the physical world. We are here to learn from our mistakes and we cannot blame anyone else for these misgivings as it is our sole responsibility to live our lives as individuals.

I am the first to acknowledge that I could do more in the way of helping my fellow human being. I could give more money to charity; I could offer my therapy sessions for free; I could spend more time with people who are struggling to cope with addiction; I could even stop writing right now and go and spend more time with my family. All of these declarations, in their own way, would keep the spiritual boot from my ass for just a little while longer. Realistically, we don’t need to be saints to make a difference in this world – we just have to care enough to want to see a difference, and that is all I am asking you to consider.

As we found out from our last endeavour through New Mediumship, the great burden of extreme materialism can ignite a passion within any man that is often determined by a spiritual force called the ego. Whereas our brain feeds off stimulation, the ego feeds off energy forged by unconstructive spiritual activity, and the effects of this manifestation can even be felt long after physical death. The battle with one’s ego is the greatest test of our eternal life journey. Even the most spiritually advanced individuals on this physical plane still strive to keep this monster under control. It is inevitable that the more wealth or power an individual accrues, then the greater the task of keeping the ego in check.

It is not my personal goal to sell millions of books worldwide and become a best-selling author, but if it were then I would have a major problem restraining my ego from basking in its self-proclaimed glory. We cannot escape from the ego until we are at a highly advanced state of consciousness, similar to that of Mr Chung and SiBir. So, it is crucial that we work closely with the ego and learn from the many challenges it sets us.

Our ego is fundamentally manifested from all of our past lives, and in addition contains elements of our behavioural characteristics from each former incarnation. In theory, if you have previously lived a life of extreme wealth or power then you should have learned how to control your ego accordingly. However, the potential is still there to let it slip out of control and under strict spiritual laws your spirit guide cannot interfere with this predicament. The task then is firmly set at our own door. This is why materialism should only be tolerated in moderation and not overindulged, since regaining control of an exorbitant ego can be immensely difficult to achieve, with the after effects being felt throughout endless incarnations.

Okay then, it’s clear that we shouldn’t try and amass a mountain of money as it might just go straight to our head! Sounds easy, doesn’t it? But how many of us play the National Lottery? How many of us work excessive hours till we can hardly think straight? How many of us would invest in the stock market if we knew we couldn’t lose? Most of us – correct? We dream of a lifestyle that gives us a plethora of choices without worrying about where these choices will leave us. We yearn for the opportunity to indulge in excessive behaviour because we see others enjoying that very dream. We strive to create an environment that is befitting of elegance and extravagance. And it may only be a dream for most us, but would you truthfully turn down an opportunity to sample this abundant lifestyle if it was presented to you on a plate tomorrow? Even for just a few moments? No, neither would I, despite the fact that my ego is fairly well shackled, and I don’t play the National Lottery. Bah humbug! But we can always dream…

The point being that most of us would like to know if the grass really is greener on the other side and there is absolutely nothing wrong with this most ‘human’ form of curiosity. Because that’s why we are here in the physical world – to experience changes in our self and in those of us who we love. We cannot condemn those who seek material gain unless we find out for ourselves just how such a fallacy affects the human soul.

If I were to ask you if you would willingly give up every single material possession that you owned if it helped to save the life of your child then I know that you would do it in a heartbeat, and so would I. Indeed, the importance of being in a position of wealth where your range of choices is huge is without doubt a tempting entrée for any palette. However, once you dine at the table of Caligula, you may never again wish to cook in the kitchen of humility.

How much is that doggy in the window?

One day, in a fishing village not too far away, a small shop displayed an interesting item in its front window. The item looked completely harmless, yet, from this day forth, this one item would change the life of everyone who set eyes upon it. Many of the villagers actually passed by this shop as they made their way to and from the quaint little harbour where most of them worked. Life was simple in this small village and for the most part the villagers were content with this rudimentary lifestyle. Everyone contributed to this caring community and no one ever went without. That is, until the day when something quite extraordinary happened.

A large crowd had gathered at the shop window to gaze in wonder at the valuable commodity, yet no one seemed to possess the courage to enter the shop. A handmade sign innocuously sat beside the item – ‘To be sold to the highest bidder’. The villagers noticed this sign and its effect made them reluctant to venture inside. They mumbled to each other and smiled nervously. Curiosity had systematically encompassed them, yet naivety held them back.

And even though the gathering crowd grew bigger, noisier, and more excitable, the alluring item just sat in the shop window, staring innocently as the relative world around it descended into chaos.

Several months earlier, a local radio station had announced that a Tibetan Mastiff had been sold for a huge amount of money. The radio station concluded that the world had now gone completely mad and that you wouldn’t find anyone around these parts that would be stupid enough to pay that amount of money for a dog, never mind even possess that amount of money in the first place. The remarkable news story had entertained the villagers, who thought it was absolutely hilarious, and they all felt fortunate that money and greed hadn’t affected their lives in this desperately covetous fashion. Yet now, here they were, staring in bewilderment at this beautiful Tibetan Mastiff, for sale in their humble little shop, but seemingly only to the richest person in the village!

Urged on by his inquisitive friends, a middle-aged man edged forward towards the entrance of the shop. Before entering, he turned back around to face his friends, inanely searching for a reason not to proceed any further, but was swiftly encouraged to open the door and ask the question that dozens of others were too scared to ask – ‘How much is that doggy in the window?’

After a short while, the shop door opened and the man returned to a barrage of questions. He quickly raised his hand before declaring that if anyone wanted the prized asset then they should write their name on a piece of paper and state what they were willing to offer for it, before posting their bid in a specially made box inside the shop. He added that the current owner of the dog was the captain of a large container ship and he would return to harbour in three days’ time. He would make his final decision after considering all the proposals. The enthusiastic villagers willingly posted their bids and returned home dreaming of owning an extremely valuable item that could then be sold for a small fortune.

For the next three days, the only topic of conversation in the village was about who exactly would win the auction. The villagers boasted how much of their hard-earned savings they were prepared to spend on this tempting investment. They imagined the prosperous lifestyle that selling this asset could afford them and how they could leave this decidedly uninteresting village and set up home in a more prosperous and exciting town or city.

The three days quickly passed and the villagers eagerly awaited the arrival of the ship that carried the owner of the priceless Tibetan Mastiff. As the ship anchored, a huge cheer erupted to the embarrassment of the stunned captain, waiting patiently to disembark from a journey that was customarily ignored on any other day of the week.

The captain began to stride away in the direction of the village shop, now instinctively aware of the reason why his arrival has signified such a euphoric welcome, and also eager to put the villagers out of their self-inflicted misery! He entered the shop and quickly closed the door behind him, whilst the villagers eagerly waited outside in an anomalous silence that had been induced by a mixture of excitement and nervous tension.

After what seemed like an eternity to the frenzied crowd, the captain opened the shop door and stepped outside with an air of authority. Without uttering a single word, he proceeded to individually read each and every written proposal that had just been reclaimed from the box inside the shop. The eerie silence persisted as the captain began to drop each newly read proposal at his feet, before suddenly looking up at the crowd and raising one bid aloft. The crowd murmured, wondering if the captain had finally found the winning bid.

‘Where is Sasha?’ asked the captain. The crowd began to murmur more intensely.

Muffled cries of, ‘Where would Sasha find that sort of money?’ and, ‘I didn’t know that Sasha’s grandmother had any money at all!’ could be heard amidst a second plea from the captain as to the whereabouts of the mysterious Sasha.

All of a sudden, a young boy eased his way to the front of the crowd and raised his hand. ‘I am Sasha,’ he whispered in an unpretentious tone.

The captain smiled before returning inside the shop. The small boy stood motionless as the rest of the villagers started to crowd around him, all hoping that there had been a mistake and that Sasha hadn’t won the prized asset.

The captain returned outside with the Tibetan Mastiff on a lead and presented the dog to Sasha. He smiled at the young boy before promptly leaving in the direction of the harbour. And as he did so, he purposefully dropped Sasha’s winning bid on the road. The disbelieving crowd ignored Sasha and his prize, choosing instead to race for details of the winning bid. The first villager to find Sasha’s bid held it up against the shop window and began to read out loud what had been written on it.

‘“My parents died when I was only three so I know what it feels like to be all alone. But I live with my grandmother now and she loves me very much. She is old and has no money to buy the dog. But she says that if I loved a dog as much as she loves me then I should let you know that it’s all I can offer. I promise to walk the dog every day and I’m sure we would become best friends forever. Thank you, Sasha.”’

As the final word was humbly read out, an unnerving silence returned once more. The villagers turned to face Sasha, before slowly beginning their short walk home to try and resume some form of normality. Some of them smiled as they passed him by, others patted him on the shoulder. One of them whispered in his ear, ‘Thank you for saving our village.’

As they passed the harbour they noticed that the captain’s ship was no longer in dock. Had it left already? Or was it ever there at all?

Sasha took his new best friend home to his grandmother’s house and they proceeded to live a life of unconditional love…as did the rest of the newly educated villagers.

Maybe we could all learn something from Sasha and his dog.

Chapter Two: Forgiveness

To forgive someone is a natural progression of experiencing profound human emotions and accepting the consequences. For example; you may forgive someone for simply being late, which resulted in you both missing an important football match. Or you may forgive someone for tying you up for twenty-four hours; continually force-feeding you sun-dried cauliflower; randomly beating you over the head with a copy of Gardeners Weekly and forcing you against your will to watch episodes of Celebrity Big Brother. The first example should be fairly easily applied – especially as you may very well end up down the pub watching the game on television and getting rat-arsed. The second one, however, takes a bit more ‘savvy’. This veggie-bondage session could be seen as slightly more extreme, and the lasting effects of such a high-intensity desecration of human rights would almost certainly leave a person scarred and possibly ‘vegan-ised’ for life.

But here’s the thing. What if both examples had the same possible outcome? What if you could endure the brutality of the cauliflower-munching sadist and come out the other side smiling, just like the football fans that drank the pub dry? Would it render such a harrowing experience as just another night to forget; to be put to the back of your mind? Of course not! But, it is possible to accept what happened and move on, no matter how grim the experience may have been. And the secret ingredient to washing really bad television programmes completely out of your hair? You guessed it – forgiveness.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. What about extreme cases of inflicted pain and suffering? How could you forgive the Nazis for what they did to the Jews? How could you possibly forgive the terrorists responsible for 9/11? How could you even think of forgiving child abusers? It just doesn’t seem feasible. Well, I cannot personally give you an answer to this type of question as thankfully I haven’t been in a position where I have had to even consider this seemingly abominable suggestion. But many others have and they have forgiven individuals for some of the most heinous crimes you could ever imagine. And you know what? They almost always came out smiling afterwards and lived the rest of their lives in relative peace.

Before I started writing this book, as per normal, I asked my spirit workers to direct me towards something or someone that would inspire me. Normally, they will guide me to an uplifting song, or perhaps I will be drawn to an inspirational film that will help to ignite my writing spark. Once again, I would not be disappointed.

Two weeks ago, my wife and son decided to go to Glasgow to do some shopping. Nothing unusual about that, you might suggest, but my wife and son very rarely go shopping together as my son absolutely hates shopping. It was Saturday and I had a full day to myself – that hadn’t happened for as long as I can remember as I’m always busy on a Saturday! And as I contemplated beginning my new book, a thought quickly came into my head – go to the cinema. I checked to see what film might be of interest to a middle-aged man sitting alone in an almost empty cinema, on a dreary Saturday afternoon, and one particular film almost reached out and kicked my ass so hard that I nearly found myself shopping in Glasgow instead. The film was The Railway Man – a factual account of one man’s fight to survive the brutality of war. Popcorn at the ready, I knew that this event had almost certainly been pre-planned by my spirit workers. I then prepared myself for an education that I would never, ever, forget.

The Railway Man is the true-life account of an English soldier’s harrowing experience in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. The autobiographical account of the life of this unfortunate soldier, Eric Lomax, was tinged in controversy when the book of the same name was first published many years ago. The main talking point wasn’t the fact that much of what happened in those camps had been shamefully swept under the carpet by the British government; it was the fact that Mr Lomax had forgiven one of his torturers for the appalling crimes committed against him. Many of his fellow comrades couldn’t understand this bizarre act of kindness directed towards a sadist who had committed crimes of an almost incomparable magnitude.

I’ve read many detailed accounts of the horrors of this period and cannot begin to describe the extremely unpleasant effect it would always leave me with. You only need to Google the words Oryoku Maru to feel sick to the stomach from the unimaginable atrocities that would make even hardened slave traders grimace with horror. Mr Lomax was not on the Oryoku Maru (more aptly named – cannibal ship), but his experiences, nevertheless, were of an absolute abomination to decent human rights. However, despite suffering from frequent nightmares once returning to England, he chose the unthinkable – to forgive his chief tormentor for making his life a seemingly eternal nightmare. To most former POWs this was seen as a step too far.

The film differs slightly from the book as it infers that Mr Lomax went back to the scene of the crime to seek vengeance on his Japanese torturer, before eventually forgiving him when he found out that he too was suffering in his own personal way from what had taken place many years before. In real life, Lomax had actually prearranged this meeting and had planned to forgive him well in advance.

The end of the film is breathtaking. I watched this film with just twenty or thirty others in attendance. There was complete silence throughout the entire experience. As we all left the theatre, nobody spoke or even looked at one another. We all just wanted to get outside as quickly as possible and release our bottled-up emotions.

Mr Lomax and his torturer became firm friends after their post-war meeting. In retrospect, many of his comrades either lived the remainder of their lives in a permanent state of mental torture, or unfortunately committed suicide to end their pain. I will let you decide which path yielded the greater dividend. My thoughts will stay firmly locked with the emotions that I released immediately on leaving the movie theatre. If you haven’t watched this film yet, then I would recommend that you do so when the time is right. You will know when that time comes – trust me.

In my work as a hypnotherapist, I often meet people who suffer from acute depression. Depression is a distorted state of well-being that has unbalanced an individual’s emotional self-structure. In other words, someone suffering from depression cannot control their emotions in a manner that produces a healthy, fulfilling lifestyle. But what if that’s just ‘Doctor Talk’? After all, aren’t we here on Earth to experience emotions and what their effect has on our eternal consciousness? Wouldn’t depression be an integral part of this learning process? Perhaps, but if the effects of depression are not accepted and then suitably dealt with, then the lasting effects of such an imbalance can be extremely debilitating for any soul.

In essence, this imbalance of energy must be addressed. And if not here in the physical plane, then most certainly when returning to the world of spirit. So how do we rebalance the energy of someone suffering from a depressive state caused by extreme torture? The answer is by the means of altering the memory of traumatic events from a negative source to a more positive one. This can be achieved by hypnotherapy – and it regularly works!

Analytical hypnotherapy involves an individual choosing to regress to a point where a traumatic event occurred in their life and reliving the moment that caused this horrific imbalance of energy. A hypnotherapist will then guide the subconscious mind of the client to re-enact the traumatic event before instructing them to forgive the person involved. Once this has been achieved and the individual is returned to full consciousness, any future recalled memory of this incident will now instil a more positive emotion. This is because the individual, in their mind, has since forgiven their tormentor and now no longer wishes any bad feelings towards them. The imbalance of energy will have been suitably addressed as there will no longer be a heavy leaning towards negative emotions.

If we don’t forgive someone for committing crimes against us in this method then we will still have the opportunity when both parties eventually meet up in the spirit world. Only this time, it becomes imperative that we actively seek a compromise as any disagreement will then need to be addressed in a future incarnation.

Every case should be judged on its own merits. Forgiving someone for forgetting your birthday is much easier than forgiving someone for murdering your grandmother. But the spiritual guidelines are the same, if not the morals.

Whenever I am asked about people who inspire me and make me want to be a better person, I always name the same three individuals –Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela. Of course, there are many others who have sacrificed their lives to aid other people not as fortunate as themselves and they are undoubtedly my heroes. But the aforementioned gentlemen, in my view, are the modern-day benchmark when it comes to inspiring ordinary people to make their world a better place to live in.

I am always in awe of those who dedicate their lifetime on this Earth to try and maintain peace within our lands. I also take my hat off to those people unfortunate enough to find their life here shortened by terminal illness, yet fight this tenure with an unassuming dignity. But it is those individuals that choose to fight oppression with simple reasoning that hearten me with the greatest hope for the future of this huge sanctimonious-filled ball of life that we call Earth. And I will now attempt to explain why.

Gandhi, King and Mandela were all victims of totalitarian regimes that denied them the right to live a life free from prejudice and restriction of choice. Any attempt to break free from persecution brought violence and abuse crashing down upon them and everyone else who stood beside them. Gandhi and King fought this terror with incisive tongues that ripped through their bigoted immoral societies. And, as countless souls yielded under the broad sword of injustice, Gandhi and King stood firm against their immensely powerful opponents. Both men were eventually assassinated but not before their legacy had been firmly put in place. That legacy decreed that no man should be treated as unequal, regardless of their skin colour or their credence. Incredibly, this was achieved by denouncing any form of violence whatsoever against the dictatorships that had principally governed their regimes through direct violence.

When Nelson Mandela was eventually released from prison, he also denounced any form of violence against the hierarchy that had systematically starved his country of civil liberties. His ethics were akin to the principles shown by Gandhi more than fifty years earlier. Yet, unlike Gandhi and King, Mandela’s political apprenticeship was stained in controversy.

Unable to make his government concede that apartheid was abhorrently unfair, the young Mandela and his political activists believed that the only way to make change happen was to take up arms against their oppressors. Mandela and his associates were subsequently charged with treason and jailed for life. It’s fair to say that conditions in his jail cell would not have been very satisfactory; nor would the jailers have been very sociable.

After twenty-seven years Mandela was finally released from prison. The government were now prepared to listen to his viewpoint. Mandela chose to work alongside them to find a solution to the social problems that were beginning to tear South Africa apart. He did not seek revenge for twenty-seven years of injustice, nor did he choose to fight his aggressors with aggression. He simply asked his supporters to forgive those responsible for the acts of violence and discrimination endured, and to now embrace a partnership between fellow South Africans.

When he was eventually elected as president of South Africa, Mandela gave his people a voice to be heard, a life to be lived and a country to be proud of. Incredibly, he worked alongside people who had made his own life a misery for many years. His choice to forgive was his greatest asset and his greatest achievement.

When Nelson Mandela died at the age of ninety-five, the whole world rose to salute a man who endured a lifetime of hate, yet parted with a lifetime of love.

Gandhi, King and Mandela solemnly decreed that the people should willingly forgive their respective governments for crimes committed against civil rights. It is arguable that if the people had not forgiven the perpetrators of these atrocious crimes against humanity, then humanity may very well have died on those blood-stained streets.

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” Mahatma Gandhi.

“We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love.” Martin Luther King.

“If there are dreams about a beautiful South Africa, there are also roads that lead to their goal. Two of these roads could be named Goodness and Forgiveness.” Nelson Mandela.

Never too late to say sorry

There were two messages left on Jason’s answering machine. Pressing the play button, he looked over at his partner for some kind of reassurance. Keith nodded his head to signify his approval. As the first message was played, both men just stared at the floor, not moving, not saying a word. The second message relayed virtually the same information, except this time there was a bit more urgency in the caller’s voice.

At the hospital, Jason asked Keith to remain in the waiting area whilst he went to see the attending doctor. The hospital ward was extremely busy, but Jason somehow knew which particular doctor he needed to speak to.

‘I... I… I’m here about my father, William Thornton’, stuttered Jason; his words struggling to come out despite the fact that he had been rehearsing this sentence in his mind for the past thirty minutes whilst driving to the hospital.

Without saying a word, the doctor quickly ushered Jason into a private room where his father lay motionless on his death bed. Suddenly, there were only two men in this room; two men who hadn’t spoken a single word in almost five years, and yet neither man seemed keen to end this linguistic drought. The noisy hospital ward had thankfully become incredulously quiet, although five years of simmering tension had prevented either man from even looking the other squarely in the eye.

‘Son, I’m dying,’ whispered William, a tear slowly garnishing his pale, yellowish face as the silence was finally broken.

As Jason slowly raised his head, he would see only a shadow of the man who had brutally thrown him out of the family home almost five years earlier. That was the day that his mother was laid to rest after she committed suicide. His father had blamed Jason for her death. He maintained that his wife could never accept the fact that her son was gay and the constant shame instigated her chronic depressive state. In actual fact, it was Jason’s father who couldn’t accept his son’s sexuality and he started drinking heavily. Eventually, his mother couldn’t take any more of her husband’s alcohol-fuelled behaviour and she overdosed on sleeping tablets. On the day of her funeral, both men had a huge argument and Jason didn’t see his father again – until this moment.

Jason suddenly pointed his forefinger aggressively in the direction of his father. ‘You blamed me for Mum’s death. You’re not going to blame me for yours!’

‘I know I did…and I was wrong,’ replied William, before holding out his hand and beckoning his son to approach the side of his bed. ‘I lost my wife five years ago and then I lost my son because of some stupid religious belief. I am so sorry for everything.’

William then wrenched his lifeless body up one final time to whisper into his son’s ear. ‘Despite what’s happened between us I never stopped loving you. I was just too ashamed of myself to admit it. That’s why I arranged for the nurse to telephone you on my behalf.’

As Jason listened to his father’s tender words he felt five years of hatred slowly begin to evaporate. He held his father’s hand and nodded his head in approval. The tension, previously evident in the faces of both men, began to disappear. And as William relaxed he whispered his final words. ‘I’m so very proud of you. I only wish I could’ve been half the man that you have become.’

As William’s body began to sink comfortably into the contours of the hospital bed Jason realised that his father was breathing his final breath. ‘I forgive you, Dad, I forgive you, I do love you…’

In that one final moment, they made their peace. The courage of an apology and the compassion of forgiveness was all that they could finally offer each other. Nonetheless, it was all that they would ever truly need.

The hustle and bustle of the hospital ward returned as succinctly as it had somehow disappeared; and as doctors and nurses prepared for the world’s problems to come crashing through the hospital doors, there would at least be one less to worry about from this day forth.

Chapter Three: Fearlessness

For over forty years now, William Friedkin’s classic horror movie, The Exorcist, has terrified movie fans all over the world and consequently instilled the widespread notion that anyone who typically displays a rather neurotic temperament should seek the services of a religious liberator. And even though the star of this film, Linda Blair, was seen to rotate her head a full 360 degrees, whilst implying that the visiting catholic priest’s mother was engaging in sexual favours with the Devil, viewers still wondered if this complete idiocy really did happen. It didn’t! If her head had rotated then it would have killed her and if the priest’s mother was swinging with Lucifer then I’m as sure as hell (sorry!) that she wouldn’t be advertising such a fact to a young girl in her nightie!

But it was a scary film – no doubt about that, since it was apparently based on true events. It was also nominated for several Academy Awards as the acting was superb. But it was pure Hollywood. In fact, the true events actually centred on a young boy who was suffering from horrendous nightmares but his head thankfully didn’t spin round, nor did he imply that Satan was holding a porn fest in his bedroom.

And here lies the problem with horror films in general. People assume that, because these movies are often based on actual events, what they witness on the big screen actually mirrors true life. In actual fact there is often little resemblance. Film directors have a duty to scare and entertain their respective audience and they won’t let a little thing like honest facts get in the way of a great story. So, by all means enjoy the latest version of Paranormal Activity or The Conjuring but please remember that it’s all just a bit of fun and shouldn’t be taken too seriously.

I’ve been psychically aware of the spirit world since childhood. I’ve been physically aware of spirit energy for over six years. In all that time, I have never witnessed anything remotely similar to what you can view in this genre of film. I’ve been asked to assist with supposedly haunted houses many times. I have also been asked to remove negative energies from places where Ouija boards and the like have been misused. And as yet, no demons, devils or rotating heads. No mad people climbing up walls backwards; no beds rocking as if they are aboard a North Sea ferry; no comatose children levitating up to the ceiling, nor any priests jumping out of bedroom windows (although I have heard rumours of this last one!).

The key factor in all alleged exorcisms is fear. Remove fear from an individual and ideally you will have exorcised their demons. Note the word their demons. Fear causes us to act in a manner that defies convention. If we fear something or someone then our behaviour often becomes irrational and we suddenly develop an acute ability to cause severe harm to ourselves or those who may try to help us. The only solution is to either swiftly remove the cause of the offending fear, or refrain from being in the vicinity of the actual fear itself. Therefore, if a conscious mind should inexplicably erupt like a baboon with toothache, then the benevolent subconscious mind will automatically search for the nearest dentist — or help us avoid going near the monkey-house in the first place!

There are many fears affecting ‘twenty-first-century homosapien’. My own personal fears include knives, spears, deep water, heights, patterned wallpaper and sharks. I’m pretty sure that deep water and sharks are fears resulting from relentlessly watching my favourite film, Jaws, so as long as I don’t go swimming off the coast of New Jersey with a drunken student strapped to my back then I should be relatively worry-free here. Patterned wallpaper would often hypnotise me as I lay in my bed during my childhood, which resulted in severe hallucinations, so, naturally, I now avoid at all costs anywhere that houses the elderly! My fear of heights stems from the time as a seven-year-old when I tried in vain to climb up a steep hill, before suddenly plummeting faster than the Greek economy. But, knives and spears, well, those are a different breed of terror that go way beyond anything that Steven Spielberg’s movies or Aunty Senga’s nursing home could ever throw my way.

As you may or may not know (depending on whether you have joined this expedition before this stage), I am a huge fan of Past Life Regression. Now, I know what you’re thinking – ‘I’d really love to find out what my past contained’. Most people do. But, when it comes round to actually participating in this most fascinating of subjects, the vast majority of people suddenly decide to pass on it. And what’s more, they rarely understand why. Typically, something just doesn’t feel right to them.

The problem is that the subconscious mind often puts a block on any attempt to return to certain areas of one’s past. Sometimes, there are incidents that are just too painful to return to. And there may be many reasons why this should be so. However, the underlying force in all of these cases is undoubtedly ‘fear’. Extreme bouts of prolonged fear can often affect the subconscious mind so badly that the only real method of dealing with it is to completely remove any reference to the cause of it. Of course, returning to the spirit dimension should bring ample opportunities to readdress any such fear and ultimately move us on to the next stage of soul development. But, if it’s not addressed suitably, then any subsequent reincarnation may be adversely affected whenever the likelihood of this fear manifests again.

I once had a profound fear of javelins. I couldn’t even watch this popular sporting event on television for worrying that the javelin may strike the poor chap who has to run and find the mark where it has landed in order to measure the distance thrown. I remember one occasion, somewhere in Eastern Europe, when the javelin did strike an official who was attempting to avoid it. This didn’t help matters! So where did this fear originate from? Had I been speared by a dodgy Ukrainian javelin thrower in a previous outing? No. In actual fact, I was speared by a Roman soldier who had invaded my fort in ancient ‘Brittanicus’. I can still clearly visualise the moment when he rode towards me on horseback and threw this huge spear in my direction. My lasting memory of this terrifying regression was watching the spear tear at my clothing on its way to my soon-to-be redundant heart. And although I never felt the pain of this searing weapon as it spit-roasted my abdomen, I would frequently go into an almighty panic whenever anything long and sharp was consequently brought to my attention – even though this incident apparently occurred nearly two thousand years ago!

My fear of knives was almost certainly derived from an infamous bedroom intruder who loved to re-enact the moment that he thrust his dagger through my heart during a Jacobean conflict. Again, I am literally terrified of knives and will avoid anyone who waves one in front of me – even if it’s just to chop vegetables.

I know what you’re now probably thinking – knives and spears are dangerous and just like patterned wallpaper can seriously hurt someone if they are not used for their true appropriation. But surely they’re not as scary as guns, or bombs, or even tanks? Which begs another question – why don’t these dangerous weapons scare me, since there is a far bigger chance that guns or grenades will do much more damage to my skin and bones? Presumably, the answer is that I haven’t experienced a traumatic death through any of those particular weapons.

Thus, we can rightfully assume that real fears — big scary ones that make you wake up in the middle of the night wishing that you’d gone to the toilet earlier — are commonly derived from incidents that occurred during previous lives. And when you bring those fears to the present day, when you manifest those feelings of pure terror, then you open up a side of yourself that can be extremely difficult to control.

On the other side of the coin, there are other, more terrifying fears that dwell in our subconscious mind. These fears are not borne from incidents that have happened to us, but rather from terrible things that we have done to other people. When I regressed to a life as a serial killer in 1850s Australia, the emotions that I endured afterwards almost tore me apart. My lasting fear was that I would suddenly revive this killing spree in my current life because I knew that deep down I was still the same person inside, although I hoped that I had developed sufficiently to realise that what had taken place in Australia was morally wrong in every conceivable context. But what if the circumstances that caused me to kill people in that life then resurfaced in this present one? I have been informed by Mr Chung that this is highly unlikely, but even the tiniest shred of doubt in my timeworn mind totally terrifies me — even more than Jaws does!

Let’s think back to our dodgy exorcisms. Hypothetically, what would happen if a herd of Australians kidnapped me at knifepoint and tried to extract revenge for my murdering all of their javelin throwers? Do you think I would just lie there gracefully and exchange pleasantries with all and sundry? No. I would get cross. So cross, in fact, that all my fears would eventually manifest into something that would almost certainly make my current persona totally unrecognisable. If fear makes the best of us act irrationally, what do you think it would do to ex serial killers? In all honesty, I would hate to find out.

I have been told by most people that I am an easy-going person. I don’t look for trouble and I tend to avoid any situations where confrontation is likely to occur. On the other hand, if one of my family members should ever be attacked or abused by any individual then a part of me is likely to surface that I cannot control. That part of me is a combination of all my collective fears, all rolled up into a monstrous ball of revulsion that would even petrify battle-hardened mercenaries. Now imagine tying me to a bed and throwing holy water over me, whilst bellowing out the Lord’s Prayer. I think you would find that my reaction would make Linda Blair look like Mother Teresa!

I’ve only ever experienced this malevolent side of myself once before. I was sixteen years of age and I went searching for a gang of girls who had attacked my sister for no reason other than they were bored. Thankfully, I didn’t find them. They will never know how lucky they were.

We all have something in our past that we need to keep shackled –children are no different. There have been many reports of children having to suffer so-called exorcisms at the hands of religious fanatics, where it is often claimed that the children scream profanities and blasphemous verses that they would otherwise not have in their embryonic vocabulary. But the subconscious mind of a child will still harbour memories of past lives where barbarism would almost certainly have prevailed, with the resultant behavioural characteristics appearing totally unchildlike should they ever resurface.

The only demons you are ever likely to find are the ones that you have self-created through your own thoughts or actions. But they are your demons. They haven’t manifested through some anti-biblical sphere to take over your soul and drag you back to the shores of hell. That’s only in the movies. Life is not always that simple. We must learn from our many mistakes before we can truly enjoy an existence bereft of fear. Fear makes us human. It is only our lack of understanding why fear exists that prevents us from living a more fruitful life.

Man’s greatest fear is of the unknown, and the biggest unknown is what happens to us when we die. But surely if we truly believe that life is indeed eternal, then the fear of death could be construed as nothing more than an exorcised demon awaiting a call from another Hollywood scriptwriter.

‘No one knows whether death, which people fear to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good.’ PLATO

Don’t fear the reaper

A trickle of ice-cold tap water slowly removes the soft lather of soap wedged between the fingers of the most perfect hands you could ever imagine. As both palms meet in perfect synchronicity, a symphonic resonance welcomes a single droplet of water as it gracefully cascades sideways to reunite with the continuous flow. Each alternate finger carefully intertwines in perfect unity as the last remnants of the lightly scented lather follows suit along the contours of the gleaming ceramic hand basin.

The impeccably clean hands are gently dried using a plain white hand towel, freshly laundered and folded seamlessly in preparation for this most delicate of procedures. A creamy, smooth moisturiser is hastily applied to ensure that these immaculate hands would even be admired by visiting royalty. Finally, a sterling silver nail file finely sculpts each fingernail with a precision that would even leave a master craftsman impressed.

It is difficult to imagine such fine-looking hands engaging in anything other than pastimes suited to celestial activities. However, these unblemished hands belong to a child killer. On five separate occasions, these hands were responsible for murdering young children and consequently destroying the lives of their respective families, and no amount of self-cleansing would ever remove the stain of death from these well-groomed weapons of hate.

The dimly lit sky hides behind a small round window that dominates this featureless room. There is clearly a subtlety about this domain that highlights a need for security, yet at the detriment of extravagance. The sparseness of the room lays bare the notion that the idiosyncrasies of killers are often reflected in their habitat. The walls and floor are both immaculately clean, yet they lack any real affluence. This is clearly a dwelling place that was created for purpose rather than comfort.

The child-killer opens the window slightly, allowing the cold night air to filter through, refreshing his naked torso as it eagerly searches for an escape route. He closes his eyes before drawing a deep breath. Quickly reopening them, he sluggishly turns around to peruse the remaining contents of his life. His neatly folded clothes lie at the foot of an impeccably made-up bed. A black leather belt sits uncompromisingly on top of a small circular table, with the large metal buckle overlapping a handwritten note.

Impetuously, he picks up the belt from the table and loops it around the catch at the top of the window. Then, he thrusts his head out of the window for one final gasp of air, his whole body shuddering with the violent force of his actions. The cold air continues to filter through the window until the night suddenly turns to day.

As the early morning mist clears from the window the welcoming rays of the sun announce the arrival of a beautiful summer’s day, just as a distant blackbird serenades the early risers. A familiar noise then breaks the peace and calm of the moment as the sound of a key turning in a lock heralds the beginning of another day in the life of a prisoner.

The cell door opens and two prison officers find our child-killer’s lifeless body hanging from the window frame. The consequent sound of the alarm acts as a devastating reminder to every other prisoner that another soul has ended his pain, only to recommence his torture.

Afterwards, the parents of the murdered children are offered the opportunity to read the suicide note left by the killer. Naturally, they find this suggestion repulsive, yet they all reluctantly agree to hear his words – hoping for an explanation as to why he chose to commit these appalling crimes against their children. As far as they’re concerned, the fact that he had chosen to commit suicide didn’t justify an apology in any context whatsoever.

‘To whoever may read this note, I solemnly promise that these words are sincere and honest. That is the very least that I can offer under the present circumstances. By the time you read this letter the world will be a better place. Of that I have no doubt. This will be the last life that I take and the only one that is morally just.

Sometimes, when you try to make sense of an act of cruelty, there are no words to convey the nature of such an atrocity without appearing sanctimonious. This is not my intention here. My words offer no explanation as to my actions for that would be as barbaric as the crime itself. I only offer my sincere apology for the grievous acts of depravity that were committed against the innocent children and their respective families.

It has been widely reported that my crimes were committed as a result of hearing immoral voices in my head from the Devil. I do not believe in any devil. If I did then I would also have to believe in God, but what kind of god would allow a monster such as me to join his flock?

The crimes were committed by me and me alone. I am totally responsible for the deaths of five children and it is only me who should be judged in this instance. My own death will not compensate for what has already transpired but it may highlight that I am aware of the grief that my actions have caused and the torment that shall last indefinitely for those affected. My own mental torture shall remain private as I do not deserve nor look for any sympathy whatsoever.

To that end, I wish to publicly apologise. I can only hope that if there is any justice in the place that I now go to, I will finally find a reason as to why I have acted so abominably and brought eternal shame upon my own family.

As I now contemplate the end of my wretched existence, I fear not death; it is only life that I truly fear. The inferno that still burns deep within my soul shall surely diminish with my imminent passing. I can only hope that the love I desecrated during my time here can return to save me from myself.’

Chapter Four: Self-Belief

There are very few souls in this world who can honestly say that they have total belief in all that they do. Occasionally, you will come across exceptional people who, for some reason, have found a worthwhile cause that they are conscientiously dedicated to and nothing else on Earth matters to them. But these individuals are few and far between. Of course, there are those who claim to have total self-belief in their ability to be extremely successful in all of their endeavours, but more often than not you will find that their heads will be so far up their own asses that they can fart through their ears!

In truth, every one of us at some point in our lives will experience at least one morsel of self-doubt. This could range from just a nagging feeling that a single hair is out of place on a head recuperating from a fancy £200 haircut, to a complete lack of confidence due to the belief that everybody you meet is judging you because of a speech impediment. Either way, a lack of self-confidence can have a serious influence on a person’s lifestyle, regardless of the reason or cause of the concern. Having belief in oneself is a great leveller, but generating that self-belief takes great care. Indeed, there is a fine line between the gentle cordiality of relative self-assurance compared to the arrogant cockiness associated with overconfidence.

My own self-doubts surface every moment of every day. I’ve always been like this and I don’t envisage that circumstance changing any time soon. I recently attended a demonstration of mediumship where the medium brought forward some superb evidence concerning the spirit people who regularly work alongside me when I’m writing my books. After establishing their identity, the medium was precise with their message: ‘Have patience and do not doubt what you receive.’ This is more or less the same message that I always receive from any medium, no matter where or when I receive information from the spirit world. And yes, it sounds like a general observation – since we could all do with showing patience and exhibiting more confidence in ourselves on a daily basis. But I seem to be the only person at these demonstrations that is ever given this information. Everyone else is told that they are going to win lots of money and marry the person of their dreams – only joking!

Seriously though, self-belief is something that I personally feel needs to be earned rather than invoked through the mechanisms of an overindulgent ego, and I will now attempt to explain why.

Just before I started writing my last book, New Mediumship, I was actively involved with a group of spiritual friends who met up weekly to participate in deep trance work. Now, deep trance, for anyone who is unfamiliar with its context, is a method of bringing forward information from the spirit world through the voice of a spirit person. This feat is achieved when the medium is in a trance state (the stage between awake and deep sleep) and the spirit person utilises the medium’s vocal chords to deliver information directly to the other people in the group.

I was informed that there would be many spirit people working with me whilst writing my book and that I would receive information when writing in a trance state. As you can imagine, I had several questions in my head after receiving this message. Who will be working with me? What level of trance will I need to invoke in order to receive their words? How will I know when they are ready to work with me?

All relevant questions, I thought to myself, and, to be honest, I was given relevant answers that satisfied my curiosity. But the biggest dilemma that I had in my modest, diminutive, humble little consciousness was whether the information that I typed into my trusty computer actually did come from the thoughts of those in spirit, or just my own exuberant imagination. The answer that I received was concise and to the point: ‘You must attend this trance circle and you will have your answer.’

As time passed and my book slowly began to take shape, I would diligently attend the weekly circle and receive information from the spirit people who would come forward through the trance mediumship of my friends in the group. And, even before I had the chance to ask about the validity of the information in my book, I would be informed that I had written exactly what they had intended. They knew that my self-belief needed a boost every time that I doubted myself. And even now, as I type the next word, I still doubt what I am doing – incessantly!

There are a great many people who believe in what I write and I am indebted to them for their support. There are also countless others who just can’t comprehend how I receive much of my material – and I totally understand their reasons for this. And as much as I believe in the spirit people who work alongside me, I still choose to retain this self-doubt in my own ability. Perhaps this self-doubt keeps my ego in check. If that’s the case then it’s worth hanging onto it for the foreseeable future.

I remember vividly when I wrote about how mediumship is primarily processed through thought and not physical senses. At the next weekly trance circle, my good friend, Donny Carmichael, went into a deep trance and brought forward Mr Chung. This was a fabulous experience for me to hear Chung’s voice through another medium and I listened intently as he told me word for word what I had previously been writing about only a few days prior to this meeting. He finished by saying, ‘Show a little more patience, David, and remove your self-doubt. Your book is wonderful.’

I hadn’t told a soul what I had been writing about. Donny didn’t even know I was writing a book!

It’s amazing to receive such indubitable confirmation when you continually doubt what you are doing. I must admit that it did give me the impetus to keep going in what transpired to be a marathon of extreme proportions. I vowed I would never contemplate such a venture again but perhaps it was just my self-doubt creeping back in that made me so unwilling to commit to any future project. But here we are, two years later, and the self-doubt is still nagging at me like a Jack Russell begging for a chicken bone!

Self-belief is a wonderful gift. Use it in the right context and you may inspire others to make their world a better place. Millions of souls around our world have great belief in various diverse religions that motivate followers to embrace everything that’s good about life. Realistically, religions don’t have to prove the actual existence of gods or prophets, they only have to suggest that there are suitable rewards for being a good human being and for enduring life’s perils with a passion that defies conventional philosophy. It is only when people profess superiority over their peers that religion can often be criticised for false pretences. But the fundamentals of established belief systems can often carry an injured soul through the darkest periods of their journey until the tiniest hint of light brings salvation.

Self-belief can also trigger a wave of optimism within the mind of anyone left facing their greatest test. There is no pretence in physical death, no matter what your beliefs or persuasions may be. There will always be someone left behind to mourn your passing with a fervent disposition that will grate at your emotions, even when you find yourself in the next dimension. The greatest test is finding a way of informing those left behind that life does go on. And if those left grieving do not believe in the afterlife or even a place where heaven and gods may sing from the same song sheet, then you must find any way you can of instilling an impressionable self-belief prerequisite within any mourner’s cognisance.

It can take many physical years for such a process to manifest and it can be a daunting task for any spirit person who attempts it. But it can be done and I’ve witnessed the results of these incredible feats on many occasions. We must remember that the power of thought is the most influential force known in the universe. Sooner or later, those left grieving on this side of life will receive a barrage of thoughts from the spirit world concerning the continuation of life in a multi-dimensional capacity – and furthermore that their loved ones who’ve passed over are more alive than they have ever been, and they’re desperate to tell you how wonderful they now feel.

Before you start worrying about having to attempt this challenging mission for yourself, please bear in mind that you won’t be alone in this task. We all have spirit guides and these extraordinarily talented souls will aid you every step of the way until a glimmer of self-belief is detected within the minds of those who seek their love. And once a spark of light illuminates the black hole created by grief then the abilities of spirit mediums are requested by the guides. By then, the healing process shall have begun, and the precedent set by just a hint of self-belief shall soon develop into something that money simply can’t buy.

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