An Average Joe's Search For The Meaning Of Life. David Shaw
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 style of the seventies. You know – long hair, flared trousers, hideous floral patterned garments etc. Spirits will always try to convey a loving, peaceful scenario when making contact. They certainly wouldn’t wish to show themselves when they were ill, depressed or having their £250,000 house repossessed!
Of course, society has changed immensely since the seventies. The cost of living is now so much cheaper and with the technological boom we can easily purchase amazing consumer products that would have seemed totally inconceivable in the 1970s. We can easily travel to luxurious foreign destinations, we can affordably run one or more cars per family, and we can even contemplate private health care and send our children to private education. We may even own several properties since banks and building societies will now lend you 95 times your annual wage, top it up by £50,000 per child, add £25,000 if your surname ends in ‘Y’ and give you a fantastic interest rate of only 5 per cent, provided you take out their home insurance and multiple credit card facility.
So why is the world an unhappy place? Why are people killing each other over a disputed parking space? Why are we injecting ourselves with mind-altering substances when a bottle of cider costs less than a bag of four apples?
I think we all know the answers to these questions, but unfortunately we’re afraid to admit the truth. The reason is that we are actually all guilty in some way of allowing this situation to arise. We are all greedy of wanting more for our families and for ourselves. We work over forty hours per week and then have the audacity to complain when we feel absolutely exhausted. We don’t allow ourselves time to unwind, or time to enjoy what free time we have. We sit in front of a television set watching news documentaries and reality shows that paint a morally disturbing picture of how our world is developing, yet we do nothing about it apart from moan.
Now thanks indirectly to the ‘politically correct brigade’ and over-submissive politicians, we have a society that allows the acceptance of violence and abuse to govern our lives. We can either hide behind the curtains or run to a safer domain, thus eventually creating a divided society where each party hates the other because of circumstances inevitably created by our own misgivings.
These days you only have to switch on a television news programme, any news programme on any day, and you are brainwashed with tales of abuse, corruption, and violence. It’s extremely difficult to escape from the media, eventually you start to feel the pain and horror of the poor individual whose home has been devastated by a flood, or the poor girl who has just broken up with Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor! I personally know of several mediums who will categorically