An Average Joe's Search For The Meaning Of Life. David Shaw
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problem – negative activity creates negative energy. People who used to live together harmoniously in the seventies are nowadays less tolerant of each other. There is no socialising, unless it’s on ‘Facebook’ or ‘Twitter’, and communities very rarely thrive, they merely exist.
So where am I going with this? What’s my point? My point is merely that, yes we are open to attack from spirits, and it can be extremely frightening, but we are far more at risk from attack from the physical world in which we live in. After all, when was the last time you switched on News at Ten and found that an evil spirit had attacked someone?
The best way to protect yourself from negative energy is to imagine a golden ball of light coming down from above your head and surrounding you in a protective force field. Then imagine that this light is impregnable and protects you from all physical and spiritual harm. You must believe that you are protected and your guides will ensure that this powerful seal cannot be broken. I urge you to try this out – it really works.
I’ve seen gangs of youths walk across the street to avoid me. OK, maybe I hadn’t washed for three days, but hey they probably hadn’t either! The trick is to remove any fears and doubts and your confidence will grow, your aura will expand and your sex life will improve! Or so I’m told!
And if all else fails you could always march along the street shouting ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix’ at the top of your voice. Rest assured the gangs won’t dare mess with you and chances are that even the police will give you a wide berth – till eventually those men with white coats turn up.
THE EIGHTIES – THE TEENAGE YEARS
I went to James Hamilton Academy in Kilmarnock from 1979 to 1983. I hated it and nothing vaguely spiritual happened to me there, although I did get five ‘O’ Grades, only one of which attained a pass mark – Arithmetic. In my first year at school, I was in the top three in my class, but I fell out with one of the teachers in year two and started to rebel against the education system. I was a teenager! They should have made me study!
Actually, this is one of the big problems with teenagers. Everybody hates them and it’s not their fault!
I left school at sixteen and joined a Government Youth Training Scheme. I worked for forty-two hours a week and earned £25. These days I would need to emigrate to China to earn that kind of money. Still, it was a good learning curve for me. If you don’t put the effort in at school you work for peanuts and then get dumped at the end of the year for some other rebel without a clue.
It was during this first working year that I would often stay with my grandfather at the weekend. I can’t remember why exactly this commenced but we were both creatures of habit and we enjoyed each other’s company. My grandfather had lived alone since my grandmother passed to spirit in 1980. My mother was devastated by the loss of my grandmother and suffered terrible depression for many years after. I never really sensed my grandmother in spirit, but this was possibly due to the fact that I wasn’t very spiritually active at this time.
My grandfather was later introduced to a lady that my mother knew, and the dirty old devil asked her to marry him. They were married shortly afterwards on New Year’s Eve, but sadly I rather lost touch with my grandfather after that. He was married for just over a year when his wife died suddenly. He suffered emotionally afterwards and it was only about a year later before he himself passed over to spirit. I remember vividly the telephone ringing at two in the morning and my mother rushing to answer it. I knew what was coming, and I think she did too. We had been there before when my grandmother suffered a stroke. My grandfather spoke softly and calmly – ‘I think I’ve had a wee heart attack.’
My mother, father and sister all rushed off to the hospital after phoning for an ambulance. I decided to stay in the house – I still don’t know why, and the others never really questioned it.
I sat downstairs for a while, contemplating what was about to happen, but for some reason I knew full well what the outcome would be. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice say, ‘I’m all right now, David.’ I sat quietly, waiting for the arrival of my distraught family.
To my surprise they all returned in good spirits – no pun intended! I looked at my mother and she whispered, ‘He’s had a heart attack, but the doctor says he should be OK.’ I just looked at her and nodded. Had I been imagining the voice? Intuitively, I knew I hadn’t.
About fifteen minutes later there was a knock at our front door. My mother rushed to answer it. My uncle was standing there, shaking his head. My grandfather had died just after they left the hospital, after suffering a second, more severe heart attack. Apparently, at about the same time as I heard his voice in my lounge.
I never mentioned this to family till many years later. It didn’t seem important at the time. Fortunately my mother coped with the loss of her father much better than when her mother had died. For me, this was the first real occasion that I had communicated directly with spirit.
I’ve since found that when major events happen in my life I will always have a strong spiritual connection. Most people do. It’s just a case of recognising the signs and believing in your instincts.
In the summer of 1986, my mother, father and sister decided to take a week’s holiday in Spain. This was a traumatic time for me as I was now nineteen years old and fairly independent, so naturally I preferred to holiday with my friends. However, I was now about to stay in my big old house, with all the spooks, for a full week – all by myself! I felt both excited and terrified at the same time.
My first night came around in a flash. It was a beautiful summer’s evening and the sun didn’t set until almost ten o’clock. I went to bed apprehensively after two cans of strong lager. I remember lying in my bed thinking, ‘If anything comes in my room tonight, I’ll run out of this house naked to escape from it.’ I was deadly serious, no point in getting dressed while I’m being butchered by the ghost of Rob Roy!
Around 2am, I suddenly awoke. Fortunately it wasn’t the ‘witching hour’, but clearly something powerful was in my room. As usual I felt as if I was completely paralysed – but surprisingly on this occasion it wasn’t due to fear. I also felt an incredibly strong energy force to my right hand side and as I tried to turn my head to investigate the source of this unknown power, the force pushed my head back to its original position.
Amazingly, I then felt extremely relaxed and my eyes began to slowly close. It almost felt as though I had just been given an anaesthetic. As my eyes closed shut, I suddenly felt the force move swiftly from its original position on my right hand side, then fly over my head, before moving off out the door to my left. Almost immediately I fell into a deep and wonderful sleep.
When I awoke the next morning I felt fantastic. I had enjoyed the best night’s sleep of my life. I remembered vividly everything about the previous night’s events and couldn’t believe that I wasn’t terrified of the strange happening that had taken place. The complete opposite was in fact true. Whatever was present in that room was absolutely divine in nature and in all my life since that night, I have yet to experience again such a feeling of pure contentment. If there are angels in this world then I most certainly met one that night.
I finished my year in the labour camp of Youth Training back in 1984 and embarked on another training scheme at the end of that year. With few qualifications and very little real get up and go, I was starting to drift aimlessly towards a life of scrimping and scraping just to get by. I would visit the local job centre once or twice a week in order to give my conscience a small but nevertheless necessary boost, and on one such occasion, accompanied by my friend Kevan, yes Kevan with an ‘A’, I noticed a job advert for ‘Postal Officers’ with the Post Office.
‘I’ve already applied for that,’ remarked Kevan. ‘You have to sit an unbelievably tough aptitude test, and you need five “O” Grades just to even get past the initial selection process,’ he added sarcastically.
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