David Shaw - An Average Joe's Search For The Meaning Of Life

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Endpages Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

About the Publisher Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

I am just a guy who wrote a book. I’ve never been on television and, as far as I know, never slept with any footballers or pop stars. I haven’t climbed Kilimanjaro, and thankfully my parents weren’t sex beasts who liked to play ‘Dungeons and Dragons’.

So, who am I, and why would anybody even remotely consider reading about my life story? Well, I’m just an ‘Average Joe’ - a simple, ordinary Scotsman, who occasionally farts in the bath and may unthinkably leave the toilet seat up. Oh, but wait! Did I also mention that I’m a trance medium?

I guess I should have mentioned that earlier, but if I told you that I actively communicate with the spirit world through my smoke alarm then you would think I was a bit mental! By the same token, if I told you that there were a thousand voices in my head, all with a particular message for a grieving loved one, then you would exclaim: ‘Schizoid Freak’!

But that’s what happens to me every day and believe it or not I have become accustomed to this part of my life. I have accepted it and, thanks to my work through Trance Mediumship, I have more importantly come to understand it.

I witnessed many things whilst training to be a trance medium. I can vividly remember one particular medium take one single breath and holding it for over seven minutes – how can that be explained? I’ve also witnessed tables and chairs levitating up to the ceiling – while David Copperfield was nowhere in sight!

There is no doubt in my mind that the spirit world exists – I’ve had proof of that, but it is neither my job nor my intention to preach the virtues of spiritualism to you. I will only say that the spirit people who have kindly shared their wisdom through this publication are amongst the most knowledgeable people who have ever lived. In fact, I can guarantee that.

The fact that they have chosen to work with this little old ‘Average Joe’ is indeed an extremely humbling experience for me, for as I may have mentioned before – I am just a guy who wrote a book.

I could instinctively feel that there was someone or something behind the bedroom door. As it slowly opened, the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention like soldiers preparing for an almighty battle. Thankfully, a welcoming ray of brilliant white light slowly began to shine through the gap in the now ajar door, but it couldn’t disguise the fact that whatever was still lurking behind this door was evidently not of this earthly world.

Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to the time being displayed on the alarm clock beside the bed. It read 3am – the ‘witching hour’ – when all godless creatures were free to roam and pillage the frightened souls of the righteous.

Not surprisingly, I was now utterly terrified, and as I reluctantly awaited the perceived demon’s next move I suddenly decided that there was only one possible way out of this hellish nightmare. I tentatively reached down to the floor and grasped my only hope; a weapon that would surely send this monstrosity back to the world from which it originally came.

I slowly raised my weapon, my arm outstretched in front of me nervously holding this small rectangular box that held the power to almost certainly evaporate this foe, this unknown intruder, this curse from the dark side. Then with a devastating blow, I firmly pressed the big red standby button and sent this piece of Hollywood hokum to the trash bin.

Why, oh why, did I rent this utter nonsense from the DVD store? Oh yes – it’s apparently based on fact. Well, I’m sorry Emily Rose, but your exorcism surely won’t win any Oscars. Hands up those of you who thought there really was a demon in my room – shame on you both!

After carefully checking that my television set was now definitely switched off, I trudged upstairs to bed, still smirking at the audacity of the Hollywood filmmakers who consistently push this sort of material on the vulnerable and the naive. Not for me, a spirit medium with ‘bags’ more sense and knowledge, but who ultimately should have known better.

The film was still very much in my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep, albeit thankful in the knowledge that what I had just viewed was drastically over-exaggerated for the purpose of so-called entertainment!

When I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, sensing a strong spirit presence in my bedroom, I instinctively turned to view the time on my alarm clock – 2.59 am, but then quick as a flash it was 3am - the ‘witching hour’! I was up out of that bed faster than diarrhoea from a salmonella-fuelled bowel. My soldiers had once again loaded their guns and were about to recommence battle. But, oh my god – this time it was for real!

The commotion woke my wife, Anne, who then glared at me with that now familiar disgruntled look. ‘Ghosts in the house again, dear?’ she asked sarcastically. I nodded sheepishly before switching on my bedside lamp. A wry smile spread slowly over my face.

‘I’m being taught a lesson here,’ I thought to myself as I slowly climbed back into the virtual safety of my now lukewarm bed, before tentatively turning off the bedside lamp and belatedly asking my guides for spiritual protection.

Fortunately, I slept like a log for the remainder of the night, before waking up peacefully the next morning, yet still trying desperately to work out just what had transpired the previous night. I knew that I had almost certainly been crudely woken by spirit energy at the precise time of three o’clock in the morning, but I was also aware that this couldn’t have been the witching hour because there is no witching hour! Just as I also knew that Emily Rose was not possessed by the devil – there is no devil! I had simply been foolish enough to watch a film that could badly affect my energy and presumably my spirit workers were trying to prove a point – or were they?