It's not cricket

I remember Dad returning from a local cricket match bemoaning the falling standards of the game.  Then, when watching a professional match, he was critical of the behaviour of some players who, he said, failed to demonstrate team spirit, and their performance within the game made them unworthy of his support.

Sometimes I find myself becoming similarly disenchanted by matters surrounding my own subject of interest.  When falsehoods are deliberately demonstrated, which cause the truth to become doubted.  Some of these falsehoods being a simple slight of hand, or word from mouth, possibly for no reason aside from a personal desire for amusement.  Other deceptions are demonstrated for financial gain and cloaked within a mistaken belief that it's ok to 'pad' the truth when ability or circumstance prevents the honest demonstration of spiritually effected phenomena.  At the end of the day, demonstrations of genuine physical mediumship are becoming increasingly difficult to discover.

That's not all that I find disheartening though.  When mediumship has become developed that offers true evidence of survival, it seems then to be accompanied by a desire to create standards by which to measure the ability of others. Then too, 'outsiders' get on the band wagon, attracted by an offered opportunity to make gains for themselves through the promotion and encouragement of group ethics. Ego feeding upon ego. 

So, for a moment I feel disheartened.  It is a good thing that a moment is what it is, just a miniscule 'blip' in the continuum of time.  For in the next moment all is well.  For there is truth to be found by those who seek it.  


It was my elder sons birthday yesterday and we were chatting together about a 'wish list' that he is aspiring to meet.  He was mentioning that he'd enjoyed holidays abroad when his salary enabled the costs to be met, but that he's just as happy now he's spending his holiday periods in the UK. 

This led on to us chatting about the various modes of employment that my son has experienced over the years...
He joked about once selling his watch to someone on in Spain...the watch was a cheap one, purchased in a local UK market, and Union Jack motif on the watch face had attracted another holiday makers interest.  So, as my son had sold the watch he humorously listed 'trade-exporter' as one short-term mode of employment!  I mentioned that a friend of mine has recently recorded a CD and has sold one copy to a friend who was taking it to the USA, and another who was taking hers to her record has hit the International market. I know that my book has been bought in Germany, USA and as an author I too sell Internationally. This is true enough but, of course, is not to be taken too seriously! 

Back to the subject of husband and I have just bought a small autosleeper. 
We'd been considering it for awhile and this one appealed to our budget, and as it is in good condition for its age we've now taken the plunge.  One of the first things I did was look at the letters of its's a female thing!  I guess I was half-hoping that the letters would spell 'Tom' or 'Bob' that the camper would have a given name.  Without this, I was moved to consider the usual 'Bugsy' 'Bertha' 'Brian' and 'Betty'.  But after awhile I settled on 'Julian' as it's just a little camper : )


Last evening my husband and I went to the Hippodrome to see a play.  
Returning to the car park we, along with many others, headed for the pay kiosk.  Nearby, on the ground sat a girl, aged about twenty.  She had glazed eyes and bruises to her arms and face.  She was dressed in jeans, with several layers of socks and jumpers and a knitted hat. 
This is England and for many, like this girl, there is no safe place.  She doesn't have the references nor the money for a deposit to rent a place, and she isn't going to get herself fit for employment unless she has a safe place within which to recover from her present state of existence. 

In this country we are encouraged to help others, based upon reciprocation.  You help someone, they repay you or help you in return.  'I owe you one' and 'I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine'.  Yet this leaves people like this girl without help...because she cannot possibly repay what may be given to her.  She needs 'too much' we walk away.
Help for the homeless

Life goes on

It seems to be a never ending gripe, that physical mediums don't often give personal evidence of survival to individual sitters within their demonstrations.  Instead, what is offered is physical evidence that can be witnessed by all those present.  Physical evidence is of course something that is felt, heard or seen.   

As most people attending Physical séances seldom come without having first experienced other forms of mediumship, most already believe.  Most have already received messages through psychic or mental mediumship.  They then attend Physical séances for 'more'.  The 'more' being to feel, hear or see those who are 'deceased' and thereby gain confirmation.  Or they come to witness the demonstration of multi-various forms of phenomena that are 'out of this world'...for this confirms the surviving intellect and advanced experience of those who no longer live within physical form.  

Springing forward

I was reading an article about historical physical mediumship recently and it became obvious to me that many gifted mediums suffered public ridicule.  They were also taken advantage of.  Their sensitive natures making them easy pray for the less scrupulous money-makers of the day.

Over a cup of tea my thoughts moved on towards present day mediums...those working within the public arena.  Whilst several notable names are reaching retirement there are a few younger within the frame, and they too appear to be sensitive, having similar areas of vulnerability to those in the past.

Thinking further about a few known modern-day mediums, and considering the situation in a modern context, it reminds me a little of Jerry Springer.  Jerry has gained a huge following, and has made a fortune, as a result of his encouragement of others to publicly demonstrate their emotions within confrontational situations.

Eureka moment!

This morning I was reading an article about Homeopathy.  Now, on a personal level, I've come to consider it likely that the process of homeopathic medicines, which involves vibration and intent, might 'work' on a spiritual a way we have yet to understand of course...

This is a section taken from the article I read this morning:
There are experiments showing that homeopathic thyroxine can alter the rate of metamorphosis of tadpoles into frogs, that homeopathic histamine can alter the activity of white blood cells, and that under the right conditions, homeopathic sodium chloride can be made to release light in the same way as normal sodium chloride. The idea that such highly-diluted preparations are not only still active, but retain characteristics of the original substances, may seem impossible, but these kinds of results show it's a demonstrable fact.

Last night in the séance room sitters witnessed changes within the atmosphere.  Patches of light...and of luminescence.  It's just dawned on me...vibration...heat...salt...light!
Link: Science

Intelligence is evidence

I remember when attending my first physical séance as a devout sceptic, how I came away wanting to discover 'how' the physical phenomena I'd witnessed had become effected.  I wanted to find out whether what I had witnessed was 'really real'...or not.  At a personal level, I needed to learn 'from scratch'...I didn't want to come into someone else's experiment part way through. I wanted to learn what was within the foundations, not just to see the rise of a building that already had several floors built.  Hence the founding of the Lodge project.

Not everyone attending a physical séance reacts as I did.  Many cannot believe what they see, or cannot understand the potential of what they are seeing, so do not question and investigate further.  Many visit séances wanting to 'feel the presence of spirit' or wanting to receive a message of confirmation from a 'deceased' relative, that will prove the continuation of life.  This mind set is limiting. 

Frankly, from a personal point of view, I'm about as sensitive as a brick, and have many 'busy' thoughts within my mind as a constant.  So if the criteria for the measurement of truth was that I felt spiritual presence within that first séance, then I'd not be doing what I do now.  Had a message be offered 'from my mother' I'd have felt it most likely that the séance organisers had been doing a bit of earth-life research...rather than that my mother was experiencing continuation of her life.

No, it isn't those things that led me to start my own investigations.  It was something else.  It was something akin to watching the following video...which clearly shows that some animals have an intelligence that is generally unrecognised.  Yet, once seen, surely opens the mind to consider the matter of intellect further...
Honey Badger

Then, upon further investigation we find that slime mould, which is an amoebic substance, apparently without a brain cell, demonstrates intelligence...
Slime Mould (simple description)

Many attending a physical mediumship séance witness evidential physical phenomena and simply discredit it, for they do not recognise the 'disembodied' intelligence within the demonstration. 
Unlike the Honey Bear video, which the human brain can readily accept after viewing, the intellect demonstrated within the formation and behaviour of slime mould is overlooked, for its form is most generally regarded as simple goo.  The display of intelligence demonstrated by slime mould doesn't usually inspire the minds curiosity. 
Similarly, within the seance room the mind finds it difficult to accept that demonstrated intelligence is itself evidential of continuing life and consciousness.

Put in or take out?

Yesterday a friend self-published her first CD.  She is a lady who loves singing around the house and with friends so, as they have enjoyed listening, in the past she has recorded her voice at an amateur level and shared such home-recorded audio socially.  She also works full time and has a busy lifestyle. 
Within this lifestyle she finds time to offer gifted spiritual healing to others.  However, as her ability to assist natural healing has become better known the cost of travel had to be taken into consideration, for she does not wish to seek donations from those who need care and healing as a result of genuine illness.  It has been a bit of a puzzle...until she felt inspired to consider a way of raising a little extra cash... 

Feeling somewhat nervous, as she was uncertain of her ability, my friend put together a list of songs and stepped out to visit a recording studio.  There was an up-front funding outlay required of course, which heightened her fear of failure.  Nevertheless...the recording session went ahead and my friend left the studio with the nine songs on her studio-recorded Cd held in her hand!

Support from her friends and family encouraged her to get the Cd published.  This process, of course, required further financial outlay. However...after a bit of graphic design was gifted by supportive friends, the publishing process went ahead.  In the time the costs had been totalled she was £300 lighter.  However, on the table in front of her lay a box containing 100 Cd's. These Cd's required her to purchase a license before she could sell them, even to friends and this additional cost had to be met on top of everything else.  The proceeds from the sale of each Cd...on sale now for £5...consequently leaves her with a profit of approximately £1.50 each.  Now...that's not a lot, but every little helps her cause. The question is...will they sell?
Audio clip

This post is not offered as an advertisement to sell someone's Cd. is posted for another reason entirely.  It's about what drives some people to 'put in' and drives others to 'take out'.

It seems to me, that there is a common human tendency for people to believe too readily in both mental and physical mediumship. This leads to an endless stream of people attending readings and séances with a strong pre-existing belief in a mediums, or spiritual healers, ability to cure all ills or to bring forward messages from their loved ones.  As a result of this belief they are prepared to pay out large sums of money. This lays an easy path for fraudulent mediums to ‘give people what they want’ through false enhancement. They reason that the fee paying attendees leave happy having ‘received’ what they expected and the fraudulent medium goes home with £2,000 in their pocket for a couple of hours effort. 

They rationalise that what they did wasn’t wrong, because the people who paid went home happy and with their belief in the spirit world untarnished.  The problem with this, of course, is that the people who paid the medium who behaved fraudulently were deceived and didn’t realise that they were being deceived. The fact that they went home happy doesn’t absolve the that medium of moral culpability for their behaviour.

I'm a man!

Diverted call

Today I received a story by e-mail from a friend that diverted my thoughts from something that was on my mind.  I must say that this came as a pleasant I am passing it on in the hope that it will be a pleasant diversion for others also.

The Black Telephone

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighbourhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbour. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlour and dragged it to the landing. 

"Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
 A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
 "Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
 "Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
 "Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
 "No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
 "Can you open the icebox?" she asked.  I said I could.
 "Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice..

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"  She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."  Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information," said in the now familiar voice..."How do I spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialled my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
 I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying,
 "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
 "I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle.
A different voice answered, "Information."
I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "
"Yes." I answered.
Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you.
The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?

Sharing thoughts...

I was speaking with a friend yesterday about increased 'phone usage since I was a child.  Our house was the first in our street to have a telephone installed...and we shared the line with our next door neighbour.  Our 'phone number had just four digits. We made calls to the talking clock and to friends, with Dad having limited our call duration to 3 minutes...which was sufficient to exchange necessary information without wastage of cost.

Nowadays I watch mothers collecting their young kids from schools, whilst maintaining eye contact with their 'phones as they converse with their friends.  Slightly older children often walk along within groups, with each child texting or chatting on their 'phones with others.  Meals are shared, not only with those present, but with others included via the telephone system...even photos are taken of meals being eaten so that friends around the world can know what is being consumed.  Such is the compulsion to share, drivers continue to communicate with friends via remote handset and often continue to text also, despite this being both unlawful and dangerous.

I watch parents texting one another whilst their kids play with games consoles, and I see toddlers in buggies staring into space whilst their mothers focus of eye contact is upon their telephone rather than upon their infant.  I watch as friends exchange news, asking which outfit should be worn, which meal should be eaten, which diet should be followed...they share problems, discussing issues large and small, sharing and supporting from each other to make even the smallest of decisions.  Friends link via the telephone system, sharing interests and going places together, whilst using their 'phones to continue communication with others wherever they go.  Nowadays short succinct messages are a thing of the past, so rarely does any call last for less than 30 minutes, and most often calls extend beyond an hour.  Lengthy communication has become developed as a result of unlimited free-to-call mobile telephone packages.

I was brought up to amuse myself and to feel inspired towards finding my own interests. When I had problems or was presented with a puzzle I would work things out at a singularly personal level, subsequently learning from my own mistakes and thereby, hopefully, make balanced decisions for myself.  Therefore I, like may others of my generation, cannot 'get to grips' with the current situation. I am baffled by 'life as it is becoming' and I can only see the 'down' side of it.  I can only perceive the loss of individual thought, and imagine the next generation growing up unable to think from an individual perspective, with no mind of their own remaining. However is that a bad thing?

From a spiritual perspective, communication within the modern world is causing people to think and work together. As individuals share their thoughts, and responses are received, advice is exchanged and decisions are made from a group perspective as a result of shared communication.  Each individual seems to be gradually evolving in order for decisions to become made, effectively by many, with the ego becoming set aside. As the 'phone system becomes increasingly used this affect may become more obvious and in the future the peoples of the world could well be working 'as one'.  This might be the only way for the world to survive.  It's just a thought...