From Intrigued Skeptic to True Believer!
by Madeline Anderson
Brush with the Next Dimension.
I feel very privileged to be in a position to share my very real, very life changing, psychic experience. This experience catapulted me from eyes wide shut to eyes wide open regarding further life dimensions in one very frightening, but life changing, incident. Read on with complete confidence that all is not only true, but totally reliable and verifiable......
I once enjoyed the idea of being involved in the psychic phenomenon but in truth was not so much a truth seeker, but rather a fun follower. The year was around 1995 and I was in my 40's. I was looking for answers in my life, like most people of that age and I found I enjoyed the rituals and the persona of participating in the fringes of psychic activities but didn't really believe in the truth of the teachings. To me it was more titillating fun rather than dedicated belief with the added spice of the unknown. It was in this frame of mind that a good female friend and myself joined a Psychic Circle, which met once a week in a local hall. The circle was led by an older lady who had a reputation as being a gifted psychic. It was presented in a format of meditation with candlelight and discussion of revelations during the meditations, followed by coffee. It was very relaxing, due to the meditation and it also only cost a gold coin donation and we could afford it. We thought it a hoot and we loved it!
One night about a month or so after we joined the group, the usual ritual began. The lights went down, the candles were lit, the music started to play and the old lady led us all into our meditation. We had to close our eyes and picture a special place - build this special place in our mind's eye and relax and let our mind take us where it will. As I was piecing together my field and my stream and my swaying trees I was getting annoyed by someone butting in and constantly distracting me. I eventually gave up trying to build my special place and took the hand of a little boy who took me to a scene. I could not see the little boy but rather felt he was around 3 or 4 years old so I assumed he had died as I could not see him. I felt his name was Kevin and I thought he had drowned as for some reason, even though he didn't actually say it, I assumed he had died because he couldn't get his breath. This was all just an accepted assumption and not actually relayed to me, which was another reason I thought he had passed over. He showed me a man in his early 30's who was lying on a plastic lie-lo, enclosed behind a high green hedge. The boy said the man's name was Christopher and I assumed this was his father. Christopher was stretched out with his ankles crossed and fingers casually intertwined. He was wearing old cowboy style dark trousers and morning length coat with black boots, white shirt, shoestring tie and a short top-hat tipped forward so that the rim concealed his eyes. He had a supercilious grin on his face which gave him an unapproachable feel. Behind him stood a woman around the same age dressed in Mormon style clothing from the same era as Christopher. She stood behind his right shoulder and had her hand on his shoulder. She had the most dissolute and grief stricken look on her face, I can see her as I write this now, all these years later. I did not know her name but I knew this was Kevin's mother. The gist of the story was that Kevin had passed away as a young child and since his death his father had not faced up to his passing and was going on through life as if nothing had happened. His mother on the other hand was so grief stricken Kevin feared she was going to take her own life as she didn't know how to cope and his father was going to end up losing them both if he didn't get his act together and rescue his mum. The whole thing was that Kevin couldn't pass over until he was sure his death was not going to be the cause of another death. He was very insistent I had to get a message to his parents that he was OK - in fact, better than OK. He was well and very happy and they had nothing to fear for him, but it was imperative that they understand that his mother's vulnerability was preventing him from passing over and he needed his father to accept his passing so that he could save his mother before it was too late.
His death simply could not be the catalyst for his mother's death also. At this point the music stopped playing, the lights went on and the old lady started going around the group asking each of us in turn to share anything we may have seen or felt during our meditation. Ummmmm!
I will say when I came back to reality I felt rather embarrassed to share this story as no one else ever spoke of anything this specific. They only ever told stories of how they had seen their spirit guide or a giant avocado or something equally unspecific. What to do? Remember, I am here for a good time, not a hard time! However, when it was my turn to speak, I decided in the spirit of the thing and because the little boy seemed so real, I would take the plunge and pass on the story - to hell with it if they all thought I was a major pretender! Nobody ever dares to get this specific! Well, everyone was quiet after I finished my story and then ..... next please!
How embarrassing, I thought! They DID think I was pretending to be a real psychic. How dare I! Cringe. I swore I would never open my mouth again, no matter how realistic my imaginings! There is definitely a pecking order in every group and I was one of the new kids on the block, so stop showing off! Slinking down in my chair I listened to the endless list of beautiful wolf, eagle and spirit guide stories until finally it was cup of tea time. At this point I was approached by a lady I had not seen before and she asked me to repeat my story, which I reluctantly did. She then told me she had come along that night specifically asking for guidance. She had good friends who had very recently lost their little 3 year old son Calum (I had said Kevin, but I guess it is close). Calum had not drowned, as I had assumed, as I thought he had died because he couldn't get his breath. He had choked on an apple. His father's name was Christopher, who was in his early 30's and looked as I described. She had come because Christopher had blocked out his son's death and his wife was not coping on her own with the loss to the point that she was suicidal. Everyone close to them was at their wits end because they just didn't know what to do and she was looking for some answers and guidance on what to do about this terrible situation. She thanked me and said this was exactly what she had come there that night for. I said I was glad I could help and promptly turned on my heel, got in my car and vowed never to go back! I was totally spooked! I couldn't believe it. It was all so close to the bone it gave me serious heebie jeebies. The responsibility was so great it gave me a serious fright, so I didn't want to go back in case it happened again!
Sometime later my friend rang me. While I never did go back again, Wendy, the friend I attended the psychic circle with originally, did. The lady came back one night and asked her to pass a message on to me. After hearing my story she went to the parents of Calum and told them what I had told her. Apparently Christopher, the dad, had broken down and the memories of little Calem and the reality of their situation washed over him and he totally broke down. Both he and his wife then sought help and the upshot was that it seemed the mother was going to pull through and that the mum and dad were a unit once again. Well, I can tell you, I got the chills from all this. I was so thankful my deep prejudice of all things unknown and unexplainable did not ultimately prevent me from passing on this very unique and privileged experience.
I very nearly didn't speak up that night and even though I have never had such an experience again, it has changed my life and my perception of death forever. I am no longer afraid of death - just a little of the pain of death! I just want to thank little Calum for putting his trust in me and for giving me the courage to tell his story for him. You would think it would be easy, but it's not. It's still a hard thing, even in an environment of "believers" to convince them of the absolute truth of their belief. I guess it just seems too good to be true! And that, my friends, is my strange, but very true, story of my brush with the next dimension.