Dearly Departed (16 page)
Alison’s apartment is ideally situated within short walking distance of little curio shops, cafes, Kensington Palace, wonderful parks and the underground rail system—it’s comforting to go back to familiar places.
I just love how Spirit manipulates circumstances and opportunities to do their will. En route to London I was staying with a former client, now a dear friend, Jules and her husband in Malaysia.
In her first reading many years ago, I had predicted how she would meet the man she would marry—and yes, it happened exactly that way. Over dinner one evening, Jules mentioned she was having a girlfriend call around for lunch the next day.
‘Georgina, I know you’re on holidays and don’t do readings, but would you break the rule—just once? Sally has had a lot happening in her life and I’m sure you hold the key to unlock some unanswered questions.’
My friend was gracious enough to open her home, so I agreed.
Sally was as entertaining as Jules had described—you wouldn’t think for one moment she or her family had suffered quite tragic circumstances— but I soon learnt exactly what those sad events were.
After lunch, we were ushered into the sitting room. ‘Sally, Jules mentioned to me you were hoping for a reading while I’m here. Have you got the time now?’ I asked.
‘Georgina, I have all the time in the world. In fact, I did come prepared—just in case. I have some photos in my bag if you need them,’ she said.
I presumed it would be a General/Futuristic Reading. She passed me her watch, and, as always, the words and predictions flowed effortlessly—when suddenly I had the most intense burning, shooting pain in my back, like I have never experienced before. I went into a form of seizure; the pain was incredible, deep within my body. Finally I was able to push away the sensation, compose myself and continue on with the consultation. I went on to describe in detail the vision I saw of a man being murdered—Sally was stunned.
‘Georgina, the man you are accurately describing has to be my father. He went missing, and to this day we have never known what happened to him. Yes, there had been rumours as to his disappearance and subsequent death. You have just confirmed for me the reason he left so quickly. In fact, quite some time later a body of a man fitting the description of my father was discovered with knife wounds in his back, just as you described. But this was a number of years ago, when technology didn’t exist to investigate further, and also perhaps in our country, murder investigations are not as thorough as in the west. The police couldn’t assure us they were the remains of my father. Today you have answered what I needed to know—he is gone, and I can close that chapter behind me. My family will be so grateful.’
It is possible to live in peace.
Mahatma Gandhi
I
have come to realise that sometimes my life’s work is not where I see it being at that moment. There is a greater plan at work as one meeting or one introduction leads to another—a soul is beckoning to be heard, lessons are waiting to be taught. Closure is needed for new lives to begin.
As I’d promised after the reading, Sally and I caught up for a cup of coffee, and that turned into lunch then dinner.
‘Georgina, there’s someone close to me who has suffered a similar fate to my family. Someone near and dear to them has been brutally murdered, but there is no resolution. Would you consider helping them?’
The domino effect had set in.
I agreed, although I dislike murder cases because they’re so draining. ‘Please don’t tell me anything about the case,’ I asked Sally. ‘You know I prefer to operate this way.’
When I opened the door for this client, there stood a very fine-looking man with dark curly hair and a brightly coloured skirt. His voice was mellow and sounded rather English. Immediately upon seeing his face, my heart jumped—I sensed a past karmic connection. We had known each other before—certainly not in this life, but most definitely in a past life.
The first time I became aware of this unusual sensation in my heart was when the doctor rang to confirm I was indeed pregnant with my third child, Brendan. Before falling pregnant, I had a spirit child visit me one evening. He stood by my bed. He looked about two years old, and despite a head full of blond curly locks, he was definitely a boy. He told me, ‘You have known me before and I will be returning once again—this time as your child.’ As Brendan grew, he developed a head full of blond curly hair—interestingly his two older siblings had dark curly hair at that age.
Obviously, we had had a strong karmic connection from a previous life. In your lifetime you’ve probably met someone and thought to yourself that you recognised them from a previous association or encounter, only to discover that your paths have never crossed. So when my heart jumps when I meet someone new, for me it is a signal that a possible karmic connection is in front of me.
Mr Charles had a firm handshake, and it rushed through my mind that standing before me was a very well-educated businessman, who had perhaps reached high acclaim in his profession, and that today’s consultation would be taking him outside his comfort zone. I believe the eyes are the window to the soul, and I could see the man standing in front of me was indeed an old soul who was deeply hurting. That day he would put aside his education and training and be open to exploring possibilities of a supernatural kind.
I asked that the session be recorded so he could take the information back with him, for further understanding and possible investigation. He passed me a portrait of the woman who had been murdered—Mrs Richards. The events unfolded very quickly in my mind, but her death was played out in slow motion. Suddenly I grabbed my head—the pain was intolerable—it was the blow that killed her. I understand my account was graphic and very detailed— I had seen the murder, I had become the murder victim. I was shown the motives behind the murder and who had taken her life.
Rushing before me was the police investigation, interviews and why the case had become ‘cold’.
Then, a most beautiful energy appeared and the pace went from rapid to almost feeling like I was floating—the feeling you have when lying back in a swimming pool without a care in the world.
Mrs Richards appeared before me smiling, her deep brown eyes showing no hatred or remorse. I became aware of biblical scriptures being quoted and wondered how Mr Charles would handle hearing about this as I sensed he was not of Christian faith. But I have learnt not to edit a session, for what Spirit gives must be for a reason, otherwise they would not deliver this in their messages.
These were beautiful words and heartfelt messages being given from a woman who had been taken so violently from this world.
It was obvious she had moved beyond her death to a place of deep healing and looked upon her murder with compassion. Through me she gave suggestions on how Mr Charles could help those she left behind. Then there were the very personal messages that would allow Mr Charles to cut free from the deep state of depression that had engulfed him since her death. How reassuring it is to know that those we dearly love continue in spirit to care for us.
When I opened my eyes, he placed a photo on the table. It was a group photo that included Mrs Richards, and there I saw her killer. I pointed to him. He nodded, and told me this person had been considered a prime suspect. Then he placed another photo on the table, explaining it was the last photo taken of Mrs Richards.
I remembered being somewhat surprised, and I think I chuckled, as she was standing in front of a crucifix—it had been taken in church while she was doing the Sunday bible reading.
I looked at Mr Charles, and for the first time he was smiling.
He knew that day he had made contact with his special friend. I received a phone call the next day asking if I would care to visit his property out of town. Unfortunately, my schedule was jam-packed— but I did promise to visit when I returned to his country.
The return trip
The plane wheels hit the tarmac, and once again I was back in my favourite Asian city, Kuala Lumpur. The heat hits your face when you leave the airconditioned comfort of the airport lounge. I kept my promise, and was able to meet up with Mr Charles and his partner—this time I would actually holiday at their rural estate and also their villa, with some twenty minutes drive between the two.
My favourite colour is green, and driving through groves of palm trees, coconuts and tropical fruits I felt like I was in heaven—but there was more to this property than Mr Charles was to know.
Years before while living in country New South Wales I had a flash of moving forward in time to a place that was indeed Mr Charles’s estate, right down to the fish pond, the wonderful exposed wood beams in the house, to the verandas that gave a 360-degree view of the panoramic hills. The detail was fine-tuned and therefore proof. Yet Mr Charles hadn’t even owned the property back then.
Looking back now, I can see our past karmic ties were being propelled into the future—once again we would meet in different circumstances to aid the development of our souls’ progression.
I had a couple of glorious days. Guests came and went. One night we had retired to sit outside to enjoy the evening breeze and take in the majestic garden that overlooked the valleys, and I had a secret thought to myself. What a mixed group we were—for there were Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, a Catholic Archbishop and a psychic! Now where would you ever get that kind of combination?
The days passed quickly and we transferred to the villa—an impressive mansion surrounded with tropical trees and plants. At night-time, the city lights below twinkled from my balcony. With all of its beauty, the energy in the house was overwhelmingly sad.
Later I discovered this was where Mrs Richards had been murdered, and residual energy of the event had been trapped in the walls and in the possessions contained in the house. I recommended that to relieve the house of these unwanted energies, they sage or smudge the whole building—this would allow the energies to lift and move on, much like when you have a bath and the dirt is washed away. Sometimes it’s necessary to ‘clean’ the energy in buildings and residences.
On returning home I sent a large parcel of sage sticks to Mr Charles with instructions on how to use them. You simply hold one stick at a time in your hand, light the dried sage and rotate it in a counterclockwise direction, allowing the smoke that emits from the leaves to penetrate the surroundings. I actually love the strong odour of burning sage, and sometimes it’s necessary that I sage my own home if I feel a client has brought in a negative presence or when working in haunted or spiritually dark places.
I don’t know how my neighbours feel about this strong odour.
Several adjoining neighbours have told me, ‘We always know when you’re awake, Georgina—we can smell the incense. It fills the whole corridor!’
Knowing this and that the smell of sage is rather overpowering, I wait until everyone appears to be asleep before I start my ritual.
As I move around the apartment, I send a silent prayer of thanks to the Native American indians for their wisdom of teaching the spiritual qualities of sage and the benefits this has brought to mankind.
Mr Charles’s life dramatically changed after his reading—his depression lifted and he excitedly shared with me what he had put in place based on Mrs Richard’s message to him. The future looked bright for those whose lives Mr Charles would touch through Mrs Richards’s memory and wishes. Although her death was at the hands of destruction, her legacy would be felt through many generations to come—she lives on in the lives she touches. On my first night at Mr Charles’s estate Mrs Richards appeared to me—she looked radiant. I could feel her presence in each part of the property—she had found her peace in the world of Spirit, and peace was upon those she loved.
In a universe of love there can be no heaven which tolerates a chamber of horrors.
John A.T. Robinson
The paranormal, ghostly encounters and spiritual presences have never frightened me—it’s like breathing, a basic instinct of survival of life after death. However, my thoughts changed a couple of years ago when a national Australian radio show asked me to be the psychic medium as they conducted a live broadcast and séance from a well-known jail, said to be one of the most haunted places in the country. To be totally frank, I thought, ‘Here we go again, another Friday the thirteenth media prank.’
I packed my spiritual protection kit, which contains holy water, sandalwood oil, a sage smudge stick, matches and coarse rock salt, and I wore a crucifix and my Spirit of God amethyst pendant for psychic protection. An amethyst crystal is a superb crystal for psychically protecting your auric field and warding off evil intent.
As I travelled the two hours up the north coast with Sonja from the radio station, we were talking too much, laughing about the radio stunt, and subsequently lost our way, realising we wouldn’t make the 7 p.m. radio broadcast start. Finally arriving at the jail, the transmission was already underway. The magazine I write for had a photographer waiting for some spooky photo opportunities to go alongside the story I was to write about the night’s events, so I was rushed into posing in the downstairs cells, lying on wire bed bases, behind bars—anything that would portray the austere living circumstances for the past tenants.
I made one crucial mistake—I didn’t apply my sandalwood oil or do my psychic ritual for protecting my aura before going into the jail. Yes, I was wearing my crucifix, which under ordinary circumstances would be enough; but that night I was entering an area known to have residual energy of the darkest kind. Just like a deep-sea diver wears a wet suit for protection against the extreme temperatures, so too I would need additional psychic protective tools to safeguard my own energy field. Leaving the photographer I had just five minutes to walk up the narrow winding iron staircase to the top landing and the commencement of the next floor of cells where I would be interviewed by the radio hosts as to what we could expect that night.
