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

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СКАЧАТЬ age when most children start to have nightmares, and in my case – very real nightmares!

      A typical nightmare would involve me wandering around a deserted street at night, before suddenly sensing impending danger around a dark corner. My instinct would tell me that I was about to be attacked and I would automatically start to run, and run, until eventually I would notice that I would simply be running on the spot. And no matter how hard I tried to move my legs they ultimately would not move – like two fence posts set in concrete.

      At this point I would quickly close my eyes and subsequently find myself back in my bedroom. However, I would then hear someone or something slowly climbing the stairs of my house. Now terrified, I would quickly close my eyes again, imagining that they were glued shut for I knew that this intruder was anything but friendly. I also knew that I couldn’t stop this intruder coming into my room but I didn’t have to see him in the flesh. With my eyes tightly closed and my other senses working overtime, I would lie there in my bed virtually paralysed with fear. I would then hear the intruder’s distinctive, menacing breath as he presumably stood over me.

      I found that my only method of escape was to suddenly free myself from this paralysis by opening my eyes quickly and shouting out aggressively, thus freeing myself from the restraints of this trance-like state. Thankfully this always did the trick and I would ultimately find myself back in my room and the menace would have gone.

      I remember vividly one night when this particular situation occurred. Just after the intruder had left, I looked out of the bedroom door – the door was always left open with the hall light left on as I was terrified of the dark – and I suddenly visualised the outline of a large strangely dressed man. He had horns sticking out of his head – yes I know we’re back to Emily Rose again, but for some reason he didn’t seem quite as threatening as the previous visitor. Nevertheless, a man standing at the bottom of my bed with horns sticking out of his head – no thank you! Eyes tightly closed again, before quickly reopening them and thankfully finding myself back in my room.

      I slowly perused my room and all seemed back to normal. This allowed my heart rate to settle down from ‘cardiac arrest stage’ to a more acceptable ‘about to jump out of an aeroplane in a parachute’ rate. I touched the bedroom wall – thankfully it was real, I was now back in the land of the living!

      My mother wandered through to my room in a kind of half-awake, half-asleep state and asked if I’d been dreaming. I was just about to mention monster number one when she exclaimed, ‘It’s just another nightmare, go back to sleep.’ I began to relax; strangely comforted in the fact that it must have been a bad dream sure enough, yet why did I wake up in the middle of what seemed like another bad dream? Maybe this happened to everybody, I didn’t know. Maybe just as well!

      It wasn’t until many years later whilst being trained as a spirit medium that I was informed by people ‘in the know’ that what I had experienced was in fact a ‘spirit attack’. Furthermore, I needed to protect myself from further attacks. But how do you protect yourself when you’re asleep? I was confused, I’m pretty sure you are too at this point! I was told that I needed to say a prayer of protection that would enable my spirit guides to protect me, thus closing down all other spiritual activity around me.

      As a teenager I had partly managed to control the ‘bad dreams’. These dreams were fairly sporadic from the age of about seven onwards. I would estimate that they occurred maybe once or twice a month. And yes they were horrific – you’ve got absolutely no idea! But I felt that my imagination was creating the dreams – not demons or ghosts. I was scared of ghosts, just like any other child. I used to hear the occasional footsteps walking up my staircase early in the morning, but the culprit seemed friendly and never came into my room to frighten the living daylights out of me.

      I can vividly recall one night when I must have been about fourteen years old and I could sense someone or something in my room. It was around midnight and I was definitely awake and fully conscious, when all of a sudden I heard a voice emanating from somewhere inside my head – it felt as though I was actually talking to myself.

      The voice said, ‘If you think of happy, enjoyable things, then you will relax.’ As quick as a flash I began to think of what made me happy, what I enjoyed most. I loved football; my favourite team being Kilmarnock, or Killie as they’re more popularly known, and our bitter rivals were another local team – Ayr United. I thought about Killie playing Ayr United, but it had to be an away game…Ayr United at their own turf – Somerset Park!

      Surprisingly, I began to relax; the fear had temporarily subsided. But hang on – I could still sense someone in the room. What else did I like? I loved video games; my favourite being a game in my local amusement arcade called Phoenix. I imagined I was playing Phoenix and again I began to relax. It was working. ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix,’ I murmured to myself. I repeated it and it felt weirdly comforting. I then repeated the strange chant sixteen times, my favourite number was four – four times four being the ultimate protection!

      My prayer of protection was now set in stone. It was a mixture of complete and utter mumblings, which made absolutely no sense to man or beast. But, you know what? It worked! The bad dreams stopped, just as long as I remembered my bedtime prayer. I can recall a few occasions when I forgot my prayer, God knows why, and of course my bad dreams would return and I would subsequently realise why.

      I still presently say ‘Ayr United, Somerset, Phoenix’ each night before going to sleep. I’ve often thought of updating to ‘Big boobs, Budweiser, Sky Sports’, but that would just be plain silly! However, I am now aware that it’s not just simply bad dreams but very real experiences.

      I can recall one other night not too long ago when I had one of these ‘experiences’. By now I knew exactly who was attacking me as I had previously plucked up the courage to look at him. I awoke suddenly as I usually did and my wife Anne was already awake and staring into space. Her eyes had a distinct look of disbelief and I calmly asked her if she was OK. She turned to face me, the pupils of her eyes still bulging from the sockets. ‘I saw someone standing over you,’ she whispered. I quickly told her not to worry about it and that we should just go back to sleep.

      The next morning we discussed the previous night’s traumatic event. I asked Anne if the person she saw was dressed as an eighteenth century gentleman with long dark hair and a beard. She again looked at me with those disbelieving eyes, before reluctantly nodding in agreement. It was time to sort out this menace once and for all. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine. I will tell you later just how I dealt with this character. Oh, and if you happen to be wondering about the man with the horns sticking out of his head, well he is in fact an American Indian Medicine Man. I wonder who that could be!

      The rest of my childhood was ironically pretty normal for a lad growing up in Kilmarnock. As I mentioned earlier, I supported Kilmarnock, but being only twenty miles from Glasgow, most of my friends supported Rangers or Celtic. Kilmarnock was a major industrial town in the seventies and industry attracted workers seeking good affordable housing away from the big city. My friends were all from Glasgow and being either ‘one side of the religious fence or the other’ it was very much a love-hate relationship for most of us – especially for the Killie fan stuck in the middle.

      However, there was a great camaraderie between all the families living in my housing estate. There were no two-car families, most households had only one parent working as far as I know, and everybody rented their house from the local council. But they were good times as the 1970s were a relatively peaceful decade. There were no organised gangs roaming the streets, yet the kids were far tougher than they are nowadays. Adults could walk the streets at night without fear of being assaulted or even killed – yet the standard of living was much lower than it is today.

      When I used to perform spirit readings, very often spirits would visually come through to me dressed in the СКАЧАТЬ