MY SPIRIT WORLD INTERACTIONS

In view of the response I received to the story of Sam, (the link you’ll find at my home page), I decided to reach back into the archives of my life to share with you other encounters of a similar vein.

My plan is to start with the original encounters and then run them chronologically to the current time. I will follow the same as I have done with Sam’s separate page so that the original story will be at the top and the newly added ones below them. I hope to add a new encounter every three weeks and hope you enjoy reading what I have encountered in my life.

Pete

MY FIRST RECALL: SONG OF MADNESS

Towards the end of 1976, I could feel changes coming into my life. I had been working as a food company’s representative and knew it was only a matter of time before my job would be gone. The days of a representative calling on each supermarket to promote the company’s goods was being replaced by one or two representatives visiting the big retailers at their head office.

At the same time, I was getting a very strong pull toward the country, and in particular the Central West of NSW.

I had just met a beautiful woman, whom I believed to be my future wife, and an overwhelming feeling that something new was coming.

I played guitar, wrote songs, and had performed over a number of years and could see the possibility that someone would hear and record my songs, which would bring me more than a comfortable life.

On this particular day, I had been working the northern beach areas of Sydney and had called into a beach car park adjacent to an excellent fish and chip shop. After buying lunch, parked myself on one of the shaded benches, and while enjoyed my meal, wrote up notes from the day’s work.

Lunch and notes finished, I looked out to sea and in a very dreamy state, pondered where life was taking me.

Strange thoughts began to penetrate my mind and soon I was writing down words I would later create into a song. It was a spooky song, with strange words and one that was totally out of left field for me.

By the time the new year had started, I was without a job, my girlfriend had found someone else, and I was fast getting frustrated with the city, with no idea of how I could ever get out to the country. But I had the song:

SONG OF MADNESS

Pete Lyons (c) December 1976

                          I’ve been writing a song of madness, the words I can’t explain.

And my mind starts rushing backwards, am I totally insane.

And her eyes keep coming to me as she passes through the door.

And she’s asking for an answer for the one’s that came before.

She passes right on through me, but part of her remains.

I can’t control my actions and I know she’s in my brain.

And I feel my body reaching and I know I’m up to high.

But I know that I must follow the ones that never die.

I’m spiralling above her like a mist that can’t be seen.

I have no fear of falling cause I know she’s in between.

And I see a body lying and I realise its me.

So empty still and lifeless, my mind’s completely free.

I’ve been writing a song of madness, the words I cant explain.

And my mind starts rushing backwards, am I totally insane.

Around October of the following year, I had bought a 25 acre piece of ground north of Mudgee in the Central West of NSW with the dream of a holiday retreat for the needy and disadvantaged. I had got numerous part time jobs which gave me more than enough money to get the project started, and the strong sense that I was on the threshold of a dream. I had no idea that that dream would be a psychic Spiritual one, or what I’d be encountering over the many years from then, as a 30 year, to where I am some 41 years later.

Pete

THE COBB AND CO HAUNTING

It was 1986 and the Hostel at Wollar, north of Mudgee in Central Western NSW that I had set up as a free or low cost holiday centre for the disabled and disadvantaged, had come to an end. Changes in Government policy, declining booking, cost of running the centre and general lack of interest saw me having to find alternative accommodation for the three intellectually disabled residents and myself.

We were offered an old building that had been used in it’s day as a Cobb and Co hotel. Recently converted to a residency on the eastern side of Mudgee, we were offered it for reasonable rent in return for us maintaining the yard and trees.

The owner had been forced to move out of the place because of the sad memories relating to her husband’s sudden and untimely death. He had been a well known member of the Mudgee community. Later I heard stories that when they moved into this building, a few years earlier, he had become deeply depressed and isolated.

Within days of us moving into our new home, I felt strange. Nothing specific, just a dankness or feeling of a dampness, especially in the front room. Later we found out that it had been a bar in the Cobb and Co days.

I suggested to the three residents that they choose the bedrooms they felt best in. It was a large single story, convict brick place with a front veranda to one corner, and a smaller second veranda down one side. Two of the residents immediately chose rooms, but Ray was reluctant. He was Down Syndrome and had difficulty talking.

There were four rooms vacant, one was where the old bar at the front of the house used to be. Directly behind was a larger room I had suggested as our lounge room, a third room, quite a small room, was towards the back, and the one I had chosen for myself and the one I had recommended for him, was on the right side of the bar room, looking from the outside perspective.

It was about a month after we had moved into the house that the first ‘encounter’ occurred. I was sitting in the lounge room when Ray came racing in, white as a ghost. With his broken and poor communication, he indicated something had happened in his bedroom, but he couldn’t explain exactly what it was. The moment I entered his room, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Ray refused to go back into that front room, so I did a swap with him and he took my room.

At around 1.30am, I awoke to the sensation that a cold mist had entered the room. Immediately tuning into my Guidance, something I was still experimenting with, I had the sensation to light a candle and place it in the centre of the room.

We had candles because the electrics of the place at that time were very poor and the power regularly cut out without reason.

I placed the candle on the small table near my bed and began taking long slow deep breaths as a beginning to my meditated. Sitting there quietly on the edge of my bed, my arms began to slowly raise out from my side, the palms turned upward. I wasn’t consciously making this happen. Another, peaceful Force had taken control.

I felt that as I breathed in, I was drawing this Peaceful Power to every corner of my being, and as I breathed out, I was removing all fears, concerns and apprehensions.

I did this for about ten minutes, going deeper and deeper into a state of tranquillity.

I assumed that whatever energy or entity had entered the room and caused us discomfort had somehow been removed because I could not sense the mist or cold sensation any more.

Assuming I had finished and I began to slip slowly back into my consciousness, it happened.

My hand came together in a massive clap, totally without my intention. It was as if someone had taken my hands and sharply brought them together. I room vibrated violently and I immediately felt like I was going to faint.

I fell back on the bed and it was then I noticed that the candle, which had been flickering as if a breeze were in the room, was now burning brightly, with not a sign of air disturbance.

I expected at least one of the residents would have been woken from the hand clapping and would come out to see what had happened, but they didn’t.

I fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake till quite late the next morning.

Ray greeted me in my room with a hot cup of tea. I asked him did he feel ok coming into the room, after his previous encounter the night before and he indicated that he felt good.

Later that day I asked the other residents if they heard the hand clapping, and they said no. Ray wasn’t there at that time and so I went looking for him. He was standing at my bedroom door, the room that had been his, and asked me if he could have that room back. I asked him if he was sure he wanted to re locate, not having told him what I had done psychically. He was quite adamant that he wanted to return, so we swapped rooms again. He ended up in that room till we moved residency a year or so later.

Later that night, after the residents had gone to bed and as I sat meditating in the lounge room, I had a strong feeling to light the candle in that room. At the end of the meditation, with no further indications of what the candle was all about, I turned on the TV.

After about fifteen minutes, I had a strong desire to turn off the TV and take the candle into the bar area at the front of the house.

The moment I entered that front room, I felt the same sensation as I’d had in Ray’s bedroom the night before.

I quickly retreated and standing in the lounge room behind the closed door to the bar area, I returned to meditating. I could feel myself gently rocking back and forth as the trance increased.

I vaguely remember entering the bar area but not much more. The recollections came back when a loud hand clap shook me into reality. The candle I’d been holding was now on a window ledge, I was standing at the opposite end to Ray’s room and the doors which I had come through were closed. I don’t remember anything of the half hour in that room, only that as I became conscious, it felt good and peaceful in there. The dank claustrophobic sensation had gone.

Some time later the house was put on the market and so we had to move. Thankfully, we were successful in jumping to the top of the Housing Commission list and were given the use of a four bedroom home.

The old Cobb and Co building was converted into a beautiful restaurant and, as far as I know, the entities that had caused us all irritation, have gone.

BINDIGALA

Moving into the housing commission home in Mudgee gave all four residents, including me, stability, but then came the questions.

What was it that spooked us in the old Cobb and Co pub?

Where did it come from, and where did it go, if it actually did go?

How did I know to trust the Voice in my head, that I refer to as my Guidance and who moved my arms into making that frightening hand clap?

There were obviously a lot more questions without answers and so I started to put out feelers to see if I could find the answers.

While visiting a newly opened health food store in Mudgee, I came across pamphlets advertising an astrologer who was drawing up birth charts for people. I had had an astrology chart done many years earlier, but because my exact time of birth is unknown, the information on that chart seemed inaccurate.

I phoned this woman, who I’ll call Sheree, who also claimed to be a psychic, and made arrangements to meet her. I explained of the psychic happenings in my life and said that many years ago, when I had been invited by a friend to visit a Beginner’s Circle at a Spiritualist Church in Enmore Sydney, that I’d been told I had great psychic abilities. She suggested that she would do a astrological chart for me for free and that she would try and help me develop my psychic skills.

She got me to show her how I had dealt with the entities at the Cobb and Co home, and so I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and explained that things just seem to happen after that. She was mortified. You don’t use dream catchers, she exclaimed? You don’t burn Sage, or hang garlic cloves around windows or start with a ritual chanting? You don’t form a Sacred Circle of salt? No I winced. Well no wonder you drew in such entities, she chastised, and set about preparing for a circle as she claimed it was meant to be.

None of what she offered seemed right to me; too many rituals that didn’t seem necessary.

I tolerated these circles, even when she was visited by some very weird and worrying spiritual entities, one or two I was convinced were imaginary.                I was slowly moving away from my Catholicism and experimenting with what had previously been unheard of for a good Catholic boy, so it goes without saying that she wasn’t helping me at all. In fact, over time, I realised that she was picking my brain more than I was learning from her.

This particular night, after my ‘brothers’ with disabilities had settled down for the night, I had this very strong feeling to try meditating alone for the first time. With a lighted candles, no garlic or dream catcher but with much apprehension, I prepared myself.

Sheree had made it quite clear that unless I could see or hear a spirit entity, then it’s not psychic. Even though I’d had the encounter at the Cobb and Co pub, I still wasn’t psychic in her eyes because I didn’t see or hear anything. I assumed she was right because I only felt the psychic encounters as a part of my imagination.

So it was with great trepidation that I began. It took some time for me to relax and calm enough just to reach a simple meditative state. As I slipped a little into this peacefulness, I had the sensation of someone, way off in the distance, chattering away to no one in particular. I put it down to my imagination and tried a couple of times to dismiss this distraction from my mind. The more I tied the dismissing, the stronger it got. Assuming I’d blown the meditation, I decided to let my imagination, and this imagery, have it’s way with me. That’s when I slipped very quickly into a beautiful state of peace. The sensation of the person being there increased. I could hardly make out the voice let alone what was being said. There was a happiness in the voice, and lots of laughter.  

As she drew closer in my mind, I could sense that she was a naked, short but very large, Aboriginal woman. As she laughed boisterously, her breasts bounced in time with her laughter. I distinctly felt her saying, in a voice wonderfully peculiar to Aboriginal people,

“Brudder, ya missin’ de garlic, crucifix and holy water.”

To which she then burst into an infectious deep belly laugh, which I couldn’t help but following. I asked her what she meant and she said,

“That shit’s not gonna help ya keep away badies. If ya think ya gonna have bad spirits around ya, that’s what you’ll get. If ya think ya gonna have good spirits round ya, then that’s what you’ll get. If ya fearful, ya get fear.”

She explained that Sherrie’s personal protections were fear based, and though it may have been necessary for Sherrie and her particular journey, it wasn’t for me and mine. She introduced herself to me as Bindigala and said she was my teacher in the ways of initiation.

“Ya got a special callin’ brudder, ya got a lotta work to do, so ya’ gunna have to trust us.” She replied.

Over time I got to know her as Bindi and many was the nights I finished my meditation totally doubled up from laughter. I learned that though she presented as one person, of Aboriginality, she was a reflection of billions of Souls who were knowledgeable of the matters I was to learn over time.

It is interesting to note that a number of my friends, in their early development, had Bindi present in their development. On person was Shazza, a friend of Sherri who ended up being my reason for moving to Queensland.

THE POEM

It was a year or two later, after my regular meditations, and just before I headed off to bed, I had this imagery come to mind that later I converted into a poem.

THE RETURN OF THE WIRINUM

First written late 1980’s, completed Feb 2000

Peter Lyons ©

In the latter eighteen eighties there had been a massacre

Forty thousand natives killed by the English settlers.

The elders were defenceless against this brutal force

The secret sacred magic, and its use, their only course

Towns built on sacred land were touched by this great curse

English settlers and their offspring felt the curse the worst

Until the country recognised that slaughter had been done

Not a single town would grow, until forgiveness had begun

The old black man sat in the shade on this hot and dusty day

His bark and wattle humpy meant that for a while he’d stay

It was the early seventies and a change of special note

Meant the aboriginal people for the first time now could vote

He’d come from deep inside the land once called Wiradjuri

He’d been sent by his elders that the cursed land be set free.

This man they sent was special, he knew the sacred ways

And what he said determine if the cure would go or stay

One night while he was sleeping, two men with evil minds

With courage from a six-pack and a racially prejudiced blind,

Into the old man’s camp they drove a stolen rusty truck

Killed the elder and the peace this old man could have struck.

The Central West of NSW began its slow decline

With loss of precious business

As the companies closed their mines

Towns reduced to villages and villages into dust

And homes once prized in those past times,

Reduced to rubble and rust

Still no one said I’m sorry, for what they knew was done, so

The cure remained to plague the folks the old man’s death begun

 

Then in the early 80’s, someone was sent back,

A white man sent by Spirit to heal the singing track.

He didn’t know of Spirit ways, nor that he had been called,

Till one night in his dreaming, the Elders showed him all.

 

They showed him Secret Knowings almost lost to time

And how to use them wisely, and where to draw the line

He travels through from town to town, and no one knows he’s there

Except the wise old elders who know they need not fear

 

He sets the wheels in motion of this ancient sacred plan

That only wise folk in the know will fully understand.

THE WIRADJURI MAN

After a few years in Mudgee, and after receiving my entitlement from the winding up of the holiday hostel at Wollar, I bought a petite historic cottage in Gulgong, around twenty minuted drive north west of Mudgee. The residents had all moved into other accommodation and I was now living with my foster son, after my disastrous marriage, divorce and settlement, left us destitute.

Yes a lot happened in between the last Blog encounters and the ones now to follow. However, as they have nothing to do with Spiritual matters, I have left them out.

As a means of keeping my sanity, and also conserving my money to pay off the debts we were left, I’d walk out on Old Barney’s Reef Road Gulgong, a road that once repeatedly heard the call of ‘gold’ in the gold rush days, past a cottage on the right and across a bridge to a junction, then return back on the other road, passing the cottage on my left and heading back home.

One particular time, I glanced off the bridge and saw a circle of painted stones. They were a bit weathered, but the white paint was still visible. Intrigued after many times passing the stones, and in view of the recent events in my life of an Aboriginal nature, I called into the house and met the owners Mark and Joyce.

They were a couple with an Aboriginal heritage, who had set up the Bora ring on the creek near their property, as directed by an old, wise Wiradjuri Spirit Elder (the Aboriginal name for that particular country) to draw to them a wise teacher.

I ended up arriving instead.

I told them of my psychic encounters, but not of Bindi at that stage, and they were extremely interested in forming a regular psychic circle.

Not having a car, I’d walk the two or so kilometres journey to their place, taking the road on the right, instead of the road to the bridge, for our once a week special time, and the slow combustion fuel stove meals Joyce would make for me.

On my original visits to their place, I would be instinctively drawn to, and mesmerised by, certain very old gums trees growing on the stretch of land that branched off on the right side to the distant hills. These trees would definitely have dated back to a time before white invasion of Australia. As I approached, I would have this strange flash back feeling, like I had been there those many long years ago.

This particular day, as I passed a particularly large gum tree, I had this very strong desire to stop. There in my mind, to my right and to the left of this old tree, I had the sensation of a very thin and wiry Aboriginal man challenging me.

I couldn’t determine his age, but I assumed he was a young man, possibly in his mid to late 20’s. He had his left foot resting on his right knee, and supported his balance with a very long spear. Somehow I knew I was at an Aboriginal territory border from back in that time and that it was appropriate that I should ask his permission before I passing from one country to another. I did so, permission was given, and as I passed the spot he disappeared.

It goes without saying that, in my ignorance, I constantly checked behind me as I walked the rest of the journey, fearful that his spiritual spear might manifest into a physical one and end up in my back.

On arriving at Joyce and Mark’s place I asked them had they ever encountered this spirit, and they said they hadn’t. They said the Spirit that had appeared to them, to build the Bora Ring, had been a very wise Elder and the keeper of many secrets. Secrets they said he would only share with the one for whom they had been asked to build the Bore Ring.

In our meditation Circles we asked repeatedly for any information as to why this spirit was visiting me, and got nothing. It seemed he was only interested in appearing to me, and only on some occasions.

Each time I passed the tree, in my mind I show my respect to the fact I was moving from one country to another, before proceeding.

Almost a year later, as I showed my respects at the tree on my way home, I was distracted by a sensation in my mind that indicated activity happening to my right.

I stood quietly in meditative state and waited.

The young warrior had returned, and this time was leading a small band of Aboriginal women and children towards me, and he was asking me for my help.

He said they had been waiting a long time for a sacred man to release the souls of those that had been slaughtered in his country many years before.

By this stage, thanks to the Circles at Mark and Joyce’s, I had become more comfortable and adapt at communing with Spirit in my thoughts, but not so with the concept of releasing lost or embedded souls, especially as I knew nothing of Aboriginal rituals and customs on this matter.

On my next visit to Mark and Joyce, I told them of this encounter and that I didn’t think it appropriate I should be meddling in Aboriginal matters. They agreed and suggested we created a Special Circle.

It was a deep and long meditation, and I couldn’t help feeling that there were contradictory feelings emanating from each of us. At the end as we shared what we had received, Mark said he had doubts and confusion concerning some information he was receiving, and asked Joyce, to seek confirmation.

After returning to the meditation to seek clarity, she said she was told it was Kadaicha business, and somehow I was to play an important part. She said she was told that the Aboriginal Spirit at the tree was the same one who had told them to build the Bora Ring and that I would be called upon soon to do some special work.

Mark then revealed that was the same message he got, but politely stated he felt the meditation had been contaminated. He found it wrong that a white uninitiated person, as I was, could be called upon for such a sacred matter. Joyce also said she had doubts concerning the messages. I also said that there seemed to be some discrepancies, because they were seeing an old Elder, and I was seeing a young warrior.

Heading back home, and with the concern that I’d be passing this place again, with the possibility of another strange happening, I went into a deep meditation as I slowly approached the tree.

Out as far as the eye could see, in my mind, were Aboriginal Spirits. Mostly women and children, but scattered amongst them were native people of other nations. They seemed to be moving towards me, like starving people pleading for food. I felt fearful because of the unknown, but also because of where this was all leading.

“Hey brudder, you scared shitless?” That laughter could only be Bindi.

“What’s going on?” I asked, relieved that there was a Spirit near me that knew I was nuts.

“Get used ta it brudder, there’s more ta come.” She laughed, and then in my mind I heard her talking to the Warrior, in language, and then to the Elders and other souls, and then after a little while, they all, including Bindi, faded from my consciousness.

I stood there wondering if I should go, or stay, and finally, because it was starting to get very cold, I headed home.

From time to time Bindi would appear in at my meditation sessions at home, but they became less and less till finally she stopped coming.

On Sunday 18th November 2018, in our regular Circle in Gin Gin, the two women in the group and myself had Bindi visit us, primarily though for one of the women. As Bindi seems to appear to initiates of a higher level, I’m wondering if this person isn’t about to start her journey.

THE WIRADJURI MAN RETURNS:

ABORIGINAL SOUL’S RELEASE

Weeks turned into months as I steadily continued my daily meditation, in which the face of the young Aboriginal man from the gum tree, now with two distinctive white markings on either cheek, would appear spasmodically. I would ask him questions or try and pry information from him, but he would never answer.

During one meditations, while conscious of a presence that I assumed to be this same warrior, I had a visit from a different Aboriginal spirit. He was older and just oozed wisdom. At first, using my voice in my mind, he asked me to create an imagery of a Bora ring. He was quite specific to the area I was to imagine, even though I had no idea where this place was in reality.

He said soon He would bring me to this place where He, through me, would help released lost souls from their earthly bondage.

It was like I was preparing a release in advance by creating this Bora ring, placing the lost souls into the ring and then turning it into a cocoon of Pure Light. Though He didn’t say, I had a sense that I was to embark on a side of this work that would be quite unnerving, upsetting and emotional.

The meditations became quite deep and with an air of seriousness about them. Some times, as the meditation’s ended, I began to feel, as oppose to see, swirling hues of deep blue and dark purple colours slowly creating a vortex from which faces would begin to appear. First came the old Aboriginal man who slowly morphed into the young warrior and then morphed back to the older man again.

The reality was They were one in the same person.

As the morphing expanded, I could see this huge collective of multiple nation’s Souls, Healing Souls, beginning to present as one entity. It was far too difficult to describe, but I realised that what They were showing me was this massive collection of Souls, appearing as One, who would be with me for this future work I was to undertake.

The night before the event the old Aboriginal man told me he’d be taking me to a particular area in the back woods of Mudgee the following day. So armed only with a sandwich and a bottle of fruit juice, I did as I was requested and followed his directions.

On the day, he lead me half way down a dirt road where I had the sensation to slow down, get out of the car and walk towards a group of iron bark gum trees. They were very old and on the border of the roadway. I had no idea what I would encounter on this road and in fact was expecting to meed another Spirit Warrior with more souls to be released, as I had at Gulgong.

As I slowly walked along the road, I became enveloped in a state of nauseousness. The more I walked, the stronger it became, till I was at the bottom of an incline to my left.

In my mind I could hear the screaming of women and children, the sound of thuds, and the screaming suddenly stopping. I was reliving the event when they had been clubbed to death many years earlier.

Any thoughts that maybe I had a very vivid imagination, went out the window with this event. I knew these thoughts and feelings weren’t from my creation. I jumped back in my car and drove home, stopping at least twice to walk around in an attempt to get rid of the nauseousness and emotion.

I have read accounts of what was done to Aboriginal people by the early settlers, but actually being right there, in the immediate, feeling and sensing fully what was happening, it was something nothing could have prepared me for. It is impossible to believe people can be so cruel to other people, simply because of their way of life and the colour of their skin.

Not having anyone to share the experience with, (who’d believe me anyway other than to contact the mental health unit of the local hospital) I embalmed myself with more than a few nips of Bourbon and went to sleep.

I had decided not to do any meditations for a few nights, because when I tried, these memories came back and I needed to move as far away from them as I could, if only for my own sanity.

It was weeks later that I sat for my first meditation. The memories were replaced by a beautiful feeling of serenity, peace and belonging. The old Aboriginal man in Spirit, came to me gently and offered me some herbs and native medicines.

Though I obviously didn’t eat or drink anything physically, the change in feeling that overcame me was as if I had actually taken some numbing potion of some kind. He then stated the following that I noted down at the time:

“What you experienced the other day at that terrible place was an atrocity that repeats, over and over, preventing the spirits of those slain, and the slayers, from finding peace. It’s like what you’d call a tape loop. Over and over and over.

With your help we can stop this constant re-enactment but there are strict rules you must adhere to.

You can’t have a judgemental attitude to this, you can’t entertain any emotions, one way or the other. You must have an open mind and heart. It is not as black and white a scenario as it first seems. Both sides had some responsibility for this slaughter, and it’s far larger than “my people versus your people.’ The world atrocities, over hundreds of years, have been drawn into this ‘tape loop.’ It is the guilt from all concerned that is the engine driving this pain. You can’t have an opinion, judging right and wrong. In order that a healing takes place, you must be completely open to our instructions, requests, and suggestions. You cannot allow your feelings into this matter.”

With that he faded from my mind, leaving me with a word that sounded like Dr’gnge but sounded like Durragundger. When I asked what it meant, I heard, way out in the distance of my mind, ‘The Way.’

It wasn’t till many years later, when I accepted reincarnation, that I understood what the old man meant. Many of those that were the slayers, became the slain, here in Australia, and in other nations. And visa versa.

A few weeks later, wondering what had happened to the old Aboriginal man, while shopping in Mudgee, I bumped into a friend whose daughter was a local radio announcer. He asked if I was free that coming Friday night, which I was, to join him and his family for an evening meal.

Present at the dinner were he and his wife and daughter, a friend of his wife, and my son and myself. I was introduced to the woman as the sister of our local TV news presenter. She and her husband had a property in the same direction as I had been taken to when I came across the massacre. The friends both new I was psychic and mentioned it to this woman.

She asked me did I know anything about ghosts, particularly Aboriginal ones, and the hairs shot up on the back of my neck. This was more than coincidental. I said that I knew a little and she asked if I’d come around some time to check out what she felt was a haunting.

I arranged to meet her at her farm in the middle of the following week, and the moment I turned into the same dusty road, I knew where I was heading.

The driveway to her house was about a hundred metres this side of where I had encountered the slaughter in my previous visit.

This was beyond coincidence.

After pleasantries, I was taken up the back of her property to the base of the ridge that bordered onto the local National Park.

I didn’t feel quite so emotional as I did last time and as I stood up on the hill. Looking back down towards the house, and then to the left toward where I had encountered the massacre, I could distinctly feel pockets of antagonistic energies reaching from that lower point, up to the right of where I was standing behind the house. As I looked in the direction of that point up on the right side, I could sense that that was where the main antagonism was coming from.

“That’s where you’ll be going next.” I felt the old Aboriginal man in Spirit saying.

With the old man’s instructions, we formed an imaginary Bora ring reaching right across the woman’s property and into it we called on the Healing Team to spread Light, Love, Concern, Caring and all the Higher Values one would expect for Healing of such a place of hatred.

All in all the healing of the property took a little more than an hour. There seemed to be no resistance to what the old Man and I did, and very quickly after, as the woman and I were walking down the hill, I could feel the massive change from when we had first gone up.

A few days later, the woman contacted me to say how amazed she felt after the release, and how a number of places around her property had been so different to how she had felt there before my calling.

She then mentioned in passing that she had been in contact with the people who owned the farm on the other side of the ridge, the place where the Old Man in Spirit had said we’d be going to next.

KADAICHA PREPARATION

Due to other commitments, it was a few weeks before I made contact with the people who owned the farm on the other side of the ridge to the last place I had visited.

When I arrived, I was quite surprised at how flat the ground area was over quite a few acres, considering the outer surrounding land up to the base of the hills was covered in rocks and boulders.

When I commented on the fact, the wife said the area had been all rock and boulders throughout the area until gold was discovered in the 1850’s, and the land was flattened.

The family had a very, very large enclosed race where they kept a pet fox, and further away and towards machinery sheds, they had a huge enclosure for a wedged tail eagle that had been injured as a baby, and which they cared for.

As we neared a particular place, where a stand of old Apple gum (angophoras) still remained, I got an overwhelming sense of dread.

Because I didn’t immediately sense my old Aboriginal Spirit friend, I excused myself to the woman and went into meditation. I immediately felt the overwhelming peace and tranquillity as my Indigenous Spirit Friend drew near. I sensed that He was building a cushion against whatever was to come.

As I came out of the meditation, the owner was smiling at me and said I was definitely gifted.

When I asked what she meant, she said that this was the exact spot where she had felt pain and discomfort any time she ventured into this area. She then excused herself, as she had the feeling she shouldn’t be there, and headed back to the house.

As I moved slowly towards a particular old Apple gum (angophora) tree, my arms voluntarily started to reach out with my palms facing forward, a similar occurrence to when I had been used by Spirit back at the Cobb and Co Inn in Mudgee.

I could feel the different sensations as the old Aboriginal man, using my palms as direction finders, lead me past the old tree. Then came the strange sensation as he left me and moved on ahead. I could sense him, spear in hand, walking almost in a hunting crouch, listening and looking attentively. I just followed.

Nothing was said between us as I followed him towards a clear spot closer to another stand of old iron bark and box wood gum trees.

He stood there for quite some time, perfectly still, one leg resting on the other, the spear seemingly steadying his balance.

Then he quietly started to sing a gentle chant as he slowly lay the spear on the ground, it’s tip aimed in the direction of the trees. Clapping two sticks in time with the increasing volume of his chanting, he began to stamp his feet onto the ground as he moved forward ever so slowly. It was then I heard it. Over towards the back of the clump of trees, I could hear a distant didgeridoo. As the old Spirit man moved towards them, clapping the sticks with a passion and increasing the chant, others in Spirit, close to the old Spirit Elder and myself, began clapping sticks and chanting in unison. It was like a calling from Spirit to the lost souls encased in the ground, the trees and surrounding landscape.

In my mind I could feel the souls of Aboriginal children and their mothers hiding behind the trees.

The enormity of the emotion, even relating it now, after so many years, makes it very difficult to tell.

It was like I was watching a movie, seeing in my mind a replay of what had happened so many years ago.

Young men on horses had rounded up women, children and adolescents and had got them to dig separate holes in the sandy soil of what had once been a creek way. They then forced each Aboriginal person, and children, into the holes, and they then buried them up to their shoulders so that only their heads remained visible.

Using swords, axes and any cutting implement they had at hand, they sliced off the heads of their victims, and used the heads as polo balls.

I tried desperately to clear my mind of the images, but the more I tried, the more intense was the event.

It wasn’t the killings so much as the raw hatred expressed by the murderers, which affected me the most. It was far deeper than racism. And it was beyond hatred.

Finally the old man called a stop to the images, and I sat on a rock and sobbed.

“Gotta be strong.” He gently admonished me. “Godda fight dis. You special person. We gotta stop dis nightmare.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough.” I blubbered.

“You? No. Me? No. But togedder, brudders and titters in Spirit? We more strong enough. You gotta believe.”

I wasn’t strong enough. I left, my tail betweens my legs, and drove straight home, sure I’d let my old Spirit friends down. How could I ever return to that place again? How could I right the wrongs of the past with just a vivid imagination, an imaginary Aboriginal friend and a very tentative spiritual psychic belief?

It was that night that I had my old Aboriginal friend visit me, even though I didn’t do a meditation. He showed himself to me firstly as the old man, then he morphed into the young warrior I knew from the Gulgong gum tree.

Hearing him in my thoughts he said that a chain reaction had started but that it had to be completed and I had to be there. I said I didn’t think I could take any more. The cruelty was way too emotional for me.

He said the Great Protectors had sent massive energy to the area and it would be a totally different encounter. I knew I’d be going back, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

KADAICHA ACTS

It was almost a week later that I returned to the property, after contacting the owner.

I was surprised to find her down near the area that she swore she would never go near, the last time. She said that since my last visit, she had felt changes around some places, and particularly this spot.

As I passed her on my way to a natural causeway on my left, I asked if this area was on her property. She said it was, and that it was down around that area that major gold deposits were found in the old days. I thanked her and, because I didn’t know what emotional trauma I’d be facing this time, indicating I needed to go alone. She understood and returned to the house.

The causeway lead into a wide open space where I could see the road, on which I had arrived, quite some distance away. By now my Spirit Guide was back, but this time as the young warrior from the gum tree in Gulgong. He did not speak as he lead me to the right and into a much larger crop of native gums. They were nowhere near as old as the ones at the last place I’d visited the week before, and I realised that these had grown since the ground had been dug up in the gold rush days.

With the warrior again using my hands as sensors, I began to advance slowly towards these trees and as I drew closer, I heard the didgeridoos and clap sticks beginning again in my mind. I had dread for what was to come.

As the sound of the didgeridoos and clap sticks intensified, I noted they weren’t coming from within me as much as from the site itself. Still in my head and in my thoughts, but projected.

“The Great Protectors are here.” Though the warrior didn’t speak, I knew the elation I was feeling was from him.

The imagery wasn’t as vivid as the first time I had visited the property. It was like I was getting basics with the least amount of visual.

The killings here weren’t done by the ‘timber getters’ of the previous visit. They were scraggly dress, simple men of many nationalities, who were shooting with no intention of killing, so much as maiming seriously, so that the victims died an excruciatingly painful death. The same way they killed nuisance animals. The Aborigines had been trying to prevent the gold diggers because they believed the earth, trees and all growing things were a part of the Great Spirit and their Sacred Dreaming. The clashes were inevitable.

I sat on a rocky outcrop and listened as a stream of thoughts were passed onto me in my mind.

“Hatred has found another corner stone in the world to embed itself. It’s not the killings, although they were bad enough. It’s the energy that has been left behind here at this terrible place, and at the other place. There are places like this all over this country, and all over the world, and that hatred is growing and festering and feeding on itself. It manifests with anger and reprisals as people connect to this energy, in their minds, the opposite to the Spirit Energy you have chosen. They draw low spirit energy and thoughts and simply manifests the very thing We are trying to prevent.”

“Could it create wars?” I asked.

“Wars come from hatred manifest. This hatred here made one people see themselves as superior to another, in both instances. Even in your time, that same hatred is strong in rural areas, and of rural areas in most countries. And where there isn’t invader hatred of the indigenous, there is the hatred of the poor by the rich or hatred of the minority belief/religions by the more dominant ones. All wars are fed by these atrocities.”

“Then how the hell is a simple person like me going to stop this, and therefore stop future wars?”

“You can’t and you won’t. Today the energy will be released from this place, that’s all we can do. These souls released today, and from the last time you visited, will amass in the Highest Place with other souls, and over time the warring energy will be confronted by the Creator Force, with the protection of The Great Protection. It is only then that peace will eventually reign in the physical world.” Knowing my next question as to when this might be, I heard, “It won’t be in your life time, and probably not in your next life time. However, while you are in Spirit, you’ll be part of The Peaceful Force bringing the Plan into fruition.”

The thought continued that Spirit doesn’t have the power of will that we have in the physical plane, and sadly, very few people now have a mind set that concentrates on the ‘Thy Will Be Done’ creed given to all native peoples of the world from Spirit long before it was voiced by Jesus. The Kadaicha Spirit, The Holy Spirit, The Great Spirit and The Spirit under so many names, always need a collective of dedicated people, living in the physical world, to Act through.

Mesmerised by what was going on in my mind, I hadn’t noticed that the Spirit warrior had morphed back into the old Spirit Elder. It was he who seemed to be telling me the story, and he continued as he formed in my consciousness:

“Last time, I separated from you and went ahead at that other place, when I did the dancing and chanting alone, because you weren’t strong enough. To today we will be standing as One. The Kadaicha Spirit, The Holy Spirit, The Great Spirit.”

As I went to protested, a flash of thought had me thinking that, in a past life, I had some awareness of this Knowledge. And anyway, what a wonderful experience it would be for me to share with others.

Suddenly, and most certainly involuntarily, I stood up, and as One, ‘we’ walked forward to where I sensed a number of Bora rings had been prepared around both this area and the one I had encountered the last visit a week ago.

As ‘we’ approached the first area of massacres I could sense a deep respect, from the Spirit energies gathered at these circles, towards ‘us’ and in anticipation of what was to come.

As had happened before, my arms involuntarily raised themselves out to head height as I walked slowly towards the centre of the first painful area.

I could feel a huge energy vibrating through me, as if my entire body was in a state of spasm, and I felt like I was being separated into two.

Suddenly a sound, like cannon fire, brought me back to reality. I stood there stunned and mesmerised, dizzy and totally confused. As my awareness returned, I realised the old Spirit Elder, who was starting to move back from me, had created the explosive sound by bringing my hands together in a massive clap.

With his leaving I collapsed to the ground in a giggling stupor. I was elation but I couldn’t fathom why. Then in my mind the old Spirit Elder told me that I had been removed from my physical form and left floating in a Place of Peace, while He cleansed both areas of hatred, with the support of The Great Protection, using my physical form. The hand clap bought me back.

By now I was starting to get my ‘legs’ back and I tentatively started to stand.

I don’t remember saying farewell to the owner, or going back to my car. And I certainly don’t remember driving home. Can Spirit Guides drive?

For weeks and months, after that encounter, I wondered if I should talk to someone to share my experiences to. But who? A priest or a religious minister? Last time I’d tried that I had been pressed savagely into a chair as a Pentecostalist couple tried driving Satan out of me.

Circumstances, and my Spirit Friends, intervened to cause me to move from New South Wales and up to Sunny Queensland. But that part of this continuum is much father ahead in the scheme of things.

JOYCE’S NEPHEW

Those of you who have been following my Encounters, will recall from The Wiradjuri Man that those happenings started after my visits to a couple out on the Old Barney’s Reef road in Gulgong NSW back in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s.

Because of the sensitivity of the Aboriginal man at the gum tree, the releasing of the lost souls and the whole Kadaicha matter, and in respect to the couple, who were of Aboriginal heritage, we rarely discussed Aboriginal subjects.

Joyce, her husband Mark and I would regularly hold a psychic circle in their home and often received interesting instructions from Spirit, particularly as to how to hold a Spiritually Guided Circle.

On one occasion, while visiting Mark and Joyce I psychically sensed there was a spiritual presence in the house, particularly around Joyce. We asked Spirit to checked her aura and were told she had an angry and aggressive male spirit energy around her. Joyce was mildly shocked to think there had been interference, considering she prided herself in her particular White Light protection.

It was when I started to describe the character in spirit that she really was shocked. The description Spirit was giving was of a young man who Joyce said sounded like her brother’s son who had been killed some years earlier in a bike accident. Joyce had heard that both her nephew and his girl friend had been decapitated in the accident in New Zealand.

Joyce began to address her nephew as if he were there in the room, and instructed him to go to the White Light. When he became more aggressive, she backed off.

Being confused and upset, she asked me to try and communicate with him. After entering a very deep meditative state, my Guides through me started to talk to him.

They asked him to explain where he felt he was, how long he’d been there and why specifically he’d come to Joyce and Mark.

I was sensing, from Their questions, that They were trying to get him to sort out his ‘thinking’. It was as if his confusion was due to his having separated matters into individual boxes, and none of them were making sense to him.

We were almost into a hour of this interaction when Joyce noted a strange energy build up. I didn’t sense anything till suddenly I received this incredible sudden jolt that had me dazed and a little shocked.

I looked over at Joyce and in total amazement she said, “My nephew. He just punched you.” Though I was aware something dramatic had happened, there were no serious side effects.

Unsure what to do next, the three of us immediately moved away from him, back to the Circle protection, and waited further instructions from Spirit.

Joyce got the message that ‘Peaceful Souls’ around her nephew had told him They were happy to help him, but if he wasn’t interested in cooperating, They would have him removed from contact with us till such time as he was willing to behave properly.

She then said that we were to break the circle, have a cuppa and to wait Their further instructions.

About a half to three quarters of an hour later, the three of us felt we were to re open the Circle.

Joyce’s nephew was there and far more settled than he had been, but still angry. It was suggested that I stay away from him, and I left the encounter to Joyce and Mark.

He told Joyce that he couldn’t go to the Light till he had found his girl friend. Mark said he could hear the girl friend from somewhere in the Light calling to him, but he was still chatting away to Joyce.

Joyce interrupted her nephew and asked if he could hear her calling to him,

“Of course I can. Her voice had been driving me mad. I search and search but I can’t find her. That’s why I talk over her cause it’s so painful not being able to find her.”

“Have you looked up?” Mark asked.

“Don’t you think I’ve already tried that? Don’t you think I would already have looked up there for her? It was the first place I looked.”

“Didn’t you see her there when you looked up?” Joyce queried. How could he not see her?

“Well of course not,” He replied angrily, “Or I’d have gone to her.”

“Then why is it she can see you, and you can hear her, but you can’t see her?” Mark asked simplistically.

“How do I bloody well know,” his anger increasing, “You’re the one with the answers, you tell me.”

“It is your anger,” My Guides, through me, stated quietly. “Her Guides won’t let you anywhere near her while you are in a state of anger. You would unintentionally damage her.”

It was the first time my Guides, through me, spoke to him after his attack on me. I wasn’t too sure what to expect.

At first he stayed silent, then replied, “Well I have every right to be angry. One minute she is there with me, the next thing I know, I have lost my bike and she has gone.”

“Are you aware you were both killed in a biking accident in New Zealand?” Joyce interjected.

“What? Bullshit,” he replied angrily. “If I’m dead, how come there are no angels around me, just this pitch black night.”

“It is because you won’t accept the obvious.” Joyce, who had slipped into a trance state continued. “I’m your aunty, Mark is your uncle, Pete is a friend. We are all psychics. We are channelling the very Angels you’re looking for. They can’t get near you until you accept you’re no longer in the physical world. Stop fighting them, in your thought, and you will be free.”

“The darkness is of your own making.” My Guides and I.

“We’re in Australia now, not New Zealand, and it is now five years since you lost your bike and your girlfriend.” Mark interjected.

“Is this true?” He asked Joyce.

“Yes it is.” She replied with tears in her eyes. “You both died in that tragic bike accident in New Zealand.”

He went silent.

“It is definitely true.” Mark added with genuine reassurance. “Why would we all be lying to you?”

“OK, then what am I supposed to do?” He said finally.

“Close your eyes and take some long, deep, peaceful breaths.” Joyce copied the very same meditation we had both been given by Spirit that we used when starting our Circle Meditations.

For at least a half hour, both of us in trance form, worked with him as he started to let all his fears, hurts, and sadness lift away. It was slow, tiring and quite a few times repetitive, as he slowly trusted that we weren’t ‘leading him down a strange path’.

At times we wondered if we wouldn’t have to come back another day, and do this all over again, so redescent was he.

I then had the sensation he was starting to slowly open his eyes and look upwards.

That was when we both felt a tingling sensation and a deep emotional feeling.

Joyce burst into tears, and it was all I could do not to join her.

“He can see her, he has found her.” Joyce blubbered, tears rolling down her cheek.

Slowly we felt him ascending towards her in the light, till he had finally gone.

The room was electric with emotion and there wasn’t a dry eye amongst the three of us.

A week later, I called back to their place and during the discussion Joyce sensed something was happening in spirit and so we opened a Circle and tuned in.

Her nephew was back holding the hand of his girlfriend. She was nursing a baby. They were both dressed in white and we were told they had just been married.

Joyce didn’t known that the girl had been pregnant when she had passed over from the accident.

It was not unlike the encounter in the movie Ghost where Patrick Swayze’s character leaves Whoopee Goldberg and Demi Moore for the last time.

Some weeks later, Joyce phoned her brother and the father of this young man, who was quite sceptical of psychic matters, to tell him of our encounter. He hung up halfway through the conversation.

It was almost a month after that phone call that her brother’s wife wrote Joyce and Mark to say the phone call had shocked her brother so much that he couldn’t talk to anyone about it. She told Joyce it wasn’t common knowledge the girlfriend had been pregnant when she had died.

She further said that two days after Joyce, Mark and I had our final encounter with Joyce’s nephew, the young man had visited his father to say all was well.

Joyce’s sister in law said that since then there had been a massive change in the ‘air’ in their place. A sense of anguish, dread and sadness had completely lifted and that she and Joyce’s brother were working on slowly starting to re build their lives again.

MY FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH A TRANCE MEDIUM

Joyce had been so taken by the encounter we had with her nephew, from the last Encounter, that she went searching for, and found, an old friend who used to do medium-ship work in Sydney. Joyce and her husband Mark invited this medium to visit for a few days and on her arrival, I was invited to join them for a meal and a Circle.

I arrived in the late afternoon of the day the medium arrived and Joyce, Mark and myself shared our interpretation of the encounters we had been having, especially the encounter with Joyce’s nephew.

This medium explained that she had never come across such a ‘system’ as we had encountered, rather she would go into a full trance and then she would allow a particular soul’s energy to enter her.

This medium had also brought along with her a female friend who hero worshipped this medium, to the point that it became uncomfortable as we moved into the evening and then dinner time.

After the scrumptious meal Joyce had made for us all, and with some gentle coaxing, we opened up a Spiritual Circle. As we had gained more confidence in forming our Circles, Spirit would inform me when the Circles were fully attuned or when we may have been a little off our guard. This night the energy was definitely off guard, thanks to the medium’s friend, but after almost a half hour extra meditating, the Peace necessary was created. I could sense the energy gradually growing in the Circle and noted that though it was quite good and no hairs were standing out on my neck, it certainly was a different sensation in the room to our usual circles.

I watched as the medium slowly drifted into a tranced. Her breathing was very slow and she was definitely in a peaceful and still state. Then slowly she began to rise slightly in her chair as she changed from a very quiet and sombre, middle aged woman, into a very youthful and almost hyperactive young man. In trance state, she took on this teenager’s personality, scratching and itching constantly, moving about in the seat, eyes darting around frequently and distracted when the questions didn’t suit him. I was convinced that this was a definite trance. Not just because of the woman’s ‘acting’ but because I had my Guides telling me so. Though I was uncomfortable with the process, I was also mesmerised by it.

Initially the medium’s woman friend started to ask trivial questions of the lad, like what’s the weather like in Heaven and had he met God yet, to which the youth stayed silent.

Then Joyce, sensing the uncomfortable situation, asked this youth his age, his country and could he describe for us the landscape. From these questions we were able to gleaned that he was from either rural France or England at the time of the Black Plague. He was about thirteen or fourteen, didn’t have family and lived in the fields to escape the authorities. He would sneak into the towns late at night and eat the scraps that were left in the streets for the rats. He said he had pet rats and they helped him find food. He wore cut down left overs that were thrown out from the rich as clothing, but mostly ran naked. In the winters he would find open windows in basements or barns and would keep warm there. It was also obvious, from the way he dodged some of Joyce’s questions that he wasn’t a complete innocent. Robbing and pick pocketing were his forte he said, especially amongst the very rich who owned carriages. He said his greatest trick was to steel the oil out of the lamps at the back of the carriages, where they had them, and use the oil to stare fires to keep warm in the winter.

It didn’t take too much of an imagination to understand how he died. The incessant scratching would have been from his flea infestation, the carrier of the Black Plague.

I felt uncomfortable with the whole event because there was no attempt made to release the lad, who I was sure was a lost soul. I was a guest in the presence of a medium whom was placed well above our encounters and our statue, simply because she had ‘been very big in Sydney’. Such was the insistence of the medium’s friend.

It’s true that I went with an open mind and was hoping this medium might give me a few pointers, but as the reality hit me, I realised that I was the ‘Knowledged One’ in the room. At least the Guides instructing me were.

The session ended, the medium came out of her trance, the youth returned to his bug ridden rats and we had a cup of tea as the medium’s friend rattled on incessantly about her friend’s channelling.

The next morning I returned to Mark and Joyce’s for morning tea and a general chat with the medium. I asked her how she had felt, after she had come out of the trance and she said she was very drained and tired, hence why she had gone to bed early the night before. She said she hadn’t been doing much trance work because of the after effects from some of the ordeals she had to go through. I asked in my innocence, should she feel tired and drained if her protecting Highest Guides had sanctioned the source she was channelling, for which I was severely admonished by her bubbly friend?

Later, when Joyce and Mark had taken the bubbly one out into the garden, the medium approached me and we had a very good and long chat.

She asked me how much I knew of trance work and I embarrassingly said very little, other that what came into my head.

She asked me what I thought of the encounter the night before and I confirmed my belief to her that the event was genuine, but that I was concerned at how she would know which souls were genuine and which ones were lower level entities.

She said that she has always used the White Light in her Meditations before such encounters, but that over time she wondered if she was fully protected. I blurted out (Spirit through me often does this) that her Guides weren’t strong enough against the energies people brought to her performances asking for a ‘show’.

I also voiced my concern that we didn’t ask the lad, or at least his Guidance, if he wished to be released from that repetitious past. She said she hadn’t ever thought about that, and added that my ‘Knowledge’ wasn’t coming from human sources. At her request, we went into the meditation that Spirit had previously showed me, which I call the three fives Meditation:

It is a series of five deep and slow breaths. The first five to relax, the second five to attune to the Highest Spirit Energy and the third five is the state of total openness to Spirit of the Highest Order.

Being a quick meditation means that lower entities soon get a short shift from the Higher Angels that are called upon to Guide us.

After exiting the meditation, she seemed to be a totally different person with more vigour and life than before.

She then said she could see a huge positive energy around me when I spoke, and that I would be doing a huge amount of psychic work within a few years. She also said I would be moving further north, though she didn’t specifically say Queensland, which is where I ended up.

The last I heard of her was she had not only stopped doing trance work completely, but that she had stopped doing all psychic work, which is quite sad as she was a very good medium.

THE BELLINGEN HOUSE

Friends of Mark and Joyce who lived in Gulgong would visit from time to time while I was there and sometimes, Linda would join the Circles.

She said she was pretty impressed with what I was getting, especially a message I gave her concerning entity interference at her sister Sue’s home at Bellingen, coastal northern NSW.

Some time later, Linda and her husband said they were planning a holiday over to visit the sister, would my son and I like to join them.

The two of us had been keen to get away from the peering eyes of my ex wife who was looking for any opportunity to ruin me in my local community, and so without hesitation we took up Linda’s offer.

The journey was a long but pleasant one, and it was a wonderful sensation, not just the arriving, but to be confronted by such an amazing home.

Sue’s husband Graham built alternative style homes in rural settings, and had used their place as an example of his work. It was in every sense of the word unique.

It was constructed on the side of a hill, with five levels and a central stairway from the first and lowest room to the top, and back, of the home. It was made of recycled timbers, glass, and other materials he had scrounged from building sites in a number of places in and around Sydney many years earlier. The first room was a large general room that served as lounge, kitchen and study. The next levels, separated up the centre by the steps, contained two large size bedrooms, the left room being Sue and Graham’s, and the right room where Linda and her family bunked.

Next came two smaller rooms, with a spare on the left side and the one my son and I shared on the right. Above these was the wet area level, with the bathroom on the left and laundry on the opposite side, and above that a storage area on the left and a firewood stack on the right. At the top of the stairs, was a door that opened out onto the top of the hill.

It was an extraordinary building and one I took to the minute I saw it.

Sue mentioned in passing that she would be sleeping in the room opposite the one my son and I were in.

Linda asked her sister if she was still having troubles sleeping in the main bedroom, a level below. She said she was convinced it was haunted. She said there was never any problems while her husband was home, only when he was away.

My friends looked at each other with a knowing glance and then said,

“We’ve never been comfortable in that room, any time we’ve stayed there.”

Sue said that when her husband was away, she would have doubts about his fidelity, yet when he was home, she had no doubts about him at all.

Knowing of my psychic skills, Linda asked if I could sense anything.

Though I had done psychometry and sensed areas of land where aboriginal people had been massacred, I had never done anything like this in the presence of others.

Using my outstretched hands as antenna, I slowly stepped into the room. Immediately I felt like I was back in Sydney in the 1920’s. I could feel the presence of some very nasty women and men. The women had total disrespect for the men, and the men were extremely cruel towards the women.

I was confused. This house was only a few years old, and nowhere near Sydney. I asked Sue did she know where the main timber beams, the main beams that held the weight of the rooms further up the incline. She said they had come from an old three story building from around the docks area in Circular Quay Sydney. I asked if she knew what the building was used for, and she said originally it had been a bond warehouse, then converted into accountants offices, and then a brothel.

I felt, but didn’t say, that the brothel had been a particularly nasty place catering for the worst of bestiality and similar.

I asked my Guides if there was anything I could do to remove the remnant energy. Suddenly I started raising my hands out on either side and slowly moved around the room, as if I were ushering an unseen force to gather. Then without warning, my hands came together in a mighty hand clap, as had happened in Mudgee some years before. I actually felt the building vibrate, but it was a psychic not physical, vibration.

Linda, who was standing at the door, let out a loud exclamation while her sister Sue let out a scream.

I immediately felt light headed and dizzy and went to lean against the wall. The wooden wall was electric, like it was charged with an electric current. Not bad for wood.

As I walked unsteadily back down to the kitchen for a much needed cup of tea, I could psychically hear a faint crackling sound around different sections of the building as I descended the stairs. It was a most extraordinary feeling.

A few days later, as I was strolling around the hill country where Sue and her husband lived, my Guides told me that the dormant energy of the souls from that time in the brother, were re energised when Sue, who was psychically gifted, dwelt on doubts or concerns she had about herself as worthy of the relationship, and of her husband’s possible infidelity. It was like a light switch.

While her sister, husband and the kids went down town to get takeaways, I shared what I had received from my Guides to Sue.

She confirmed that she didn’t feel worthy of her husband and that she was sure he was having more than one affair when he was away. The day we were to return home, she called me aside and said that for the past few nights, something had definitely happened for the better. Not only had she gone back into her bedroom and slept soundly, but she had lost all concerns of her husband being unfaithful.

A week after we had returned to Gulgong, Linda phoned me to say she had just heard from Sue. Sue’s husband had come home a day or two before, and they had had a huge sharing. After Sue shared what she had thought, concerning her husband’s unfaithfulness, he confessed that he had prepared an apartment down towards Newcastle because he was convinced that Sue was having an affair, and had planned to leave him.

Sue had told Linda that after that sharing, she and her husband returned to the bedroom like they were newly weds.

From that time on, Linda informed me, they had no further events of a negative nature.