Sunday 10th June ~ Bathing in Ectoplasm.


For now we see through a glass darkly…but then Face to Face



I sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for the mist to return…

I had been unable to sleep the previous night and I had decided to get up and make a cup of coffee. It’s illogical that I often have a cup of coffee to get off to sleep; but there you are, it works for me. It’s sometimes difficult in theatre ‘digs’, to roam around after ‘lights out’, many landlords and landladies, get very insecure when their guests, especially rather strange ones, start wandering about in the small hours, but that’s the way I am and after some 40yrs on tour with various productions - if I want to get up and wander - then I do.

I had ( as our American cousins would say) ‘gotten’ up, restless and nervous about the next days work and had decided to go to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. When I reached the middle of the stairs, leading to the front-door (straight ahead) or to the kitchen (turn right), I noticed that the hallway and especially around the hallway light, was shrouded in mist. At first I blamed my spectacles; many spectacle wearers will empathise with me when I point out the curse of condensation - when I wiped the lenses however - the mist remained.

It was very beautiful (the mist); looking like the frozen haze above a late autumn field, it hung in the air and seemed to cover everything from the stair-rail to the front door and even to the pictures on the walls. I was fascinated but not afraid because the atmosphere was calm and loving.

I turned right toward the kitchen; the kitchen door was open, but a mist, like a gauze-screen, covered the whole of the door-frame. I walked carefully through it, noting that the temperature had seemed to drop.

When I returned from the kitchen with my coffee, the ‘ectoplasmic’ mist was still there. I had the sensation of a ‘presence’ in the middle of the hallway - an ‘area of power’, which I knew I should respect…

The next day I mentioned this to the landlady. “Yes” she confirmed, there had been an old lady, who lived in the house, many years ago and she had died at the very spot I felt the ‘power’. She had also experienced the ‘presence’ but not for a few years and I sensed that she did not want to dwell on the experience again.

Personally I have no fear of discarnate entities, in fact programmes on TV, such as ‘Most Haunted’ actually anger me. I know it helps audience ratings, but after going to such lengths to locate a spirit or ‘haunting’, the sight and sound of the presenter screaming in shock (real-good for ratings) makes me wonder what the spirit must feel. To contact from another dimension is one thing, but to then have the people who are trying to contact, start to run around like silly children in theatrical shock, is I feel an insult to any ‘passed over’ spirit who may have been trying to contact, or who may be in need of earthly help.

The next night, I determined to ‘meet’ the spirit. Around 1am, when everyone else was in bed, I tiptoed along the corridor and sat a couple of stairs down - and waited…

Very soon the mist appeared, like fog descending, covering the whole of the hallway and hanging like suspended vapour. It was very beautiful and I felt a simple sensation of peace and calm. I walked down to the hallway and walked into the mist…

I was wearing a short sleeved shirt and so I reached into the cold air and layered the ‘shroud’ onto me, bathing and rubbing my arms and hands. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. I took handfuls of mist and smoothed them over my face…the feeling was again peaceful and also loving.

Don’t be afraid if you experience this. Chris, my favourite clairvoyant from ‘Mysteries’ in Monmouth Street London, says: “It isn’t the discarnate spirits that we should be afraid of, it’s the spirits that still have bodies around them – they’re much more dangerous.”

How wise he is…..

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‘till the next time


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