What My Grandfather Shared From Spirit

Every Tuesday night for the last year I've sat in a closed physical mediumship circle held at Clearly Destiny in London. The Medium, Tracey Hood, sits in a small enclosed structure known as a cabinet. The circle, a group of people who commit to giving their energy over to the Medium and to Spirit, sit in the dark with hands and feet touching. There is a table in the center of the room that holds an aluminum cone, known as a trumpet. There are strips of glow-in-the-dark material throughout the room. Music is played and the home circle sings along, to raise the vibration in the room.

The intention is that Spirit will use the body and psychic energy of the Medium to produce physical phenomenon. The circle acts as a battery to power the Medium and the hope is that ectoplasm will be produced and objects will levitate or spirits will manifest.

These type of seances were popular during Victorian London, but were soon infiltrated by con-artists. People became skeptical and as a result many attendees challenged what was experienced, often causing physical harm or even the death of the Medium. 

Tracey has been sitting in the cabinet for a few years now and is amongst a select few world-wide who are facilitating phenomena. Due to the infamous past of physical mediumship, modern Mediums have developed a strict set of protocols for the health and safety of the Medium, as well as to establish authenticity of what is experienced during a seance.

Last Spring I was invited to become the Circle Leader. This means that it is my responsibility to keep the Medium safe and that protocols are adhered to. It also means that I sit as an energetic battery, while receiving direction from Tracey's Spirit Team. For the most part, I act as a commentator to the group, acknowledging when loved ones step closer, when there are flashes of light, when there is activity at the table and trumpet.

Tonight's seance herald the evolution of the craft.

As soon as the lights went out I saw black on black shadows begin to gather in the room. The energies stood very close to myself and the cabinet and it begun to feel as though my face was being wrapped in cobwebs. I was "told" that our loved ones were gathering and that each member of the circle had four energies with them.

For the past few months we have enjoyed visits from the father of one of the members of the circle. Tonight I was told that our loved ones were supporting Christine's dad to manifest. To do so, each of us needed to acknowledge the presence of our loved ones. I had a sense of my mother's dad, Buppa, and my father's mother, Granny B. I "asked" that my grandparents make themselves known to me, beyond sensing them. Within moments a wavy violet orb, that floated like a jellyfish, emerged and wafted over to me. As the energy drew close I was shown something like a family album flip book.

Eyes wide open, I saw in my mind's eye a black and white photo of my grandfather as a toddler. He was dressed up for church and was all smiles. The photo seemed to transform into a family movie, with the action sped up. Soon images and vignettes began to play.

Buppa and his older sister selling ice-cream by the road side of the family farm. The little boy rejoicing over the penny payment.

An awkward teenager hunch over his school desk, learning and dreaming about the future.

The prideful young man who cleaned the college in order to finance his education.

The soldier driving along side of the train that carried his future wife, who missed their rendezvous on the eve of their elopement.

The fighter pilot, who during World War II, stole a few moments of joy as he floated in the clouds over beautiful land and water.

The father at Christmas, watching his two sons and daughter opening presents.

The grandfather who carried his first grandchild in his arms, kissed her chubby cheeks and forever kept her heart close to his.

Each vignette was infused with the powerful joy and happiness that my grandfather felt. And as I sobbed quietly in the dark, what my grandfather remembered and shared was that he had lived and he had loved.

I could hear sobs also come from Christine and other members of the circle. I asked them what their loved ones were sharing and for some, it was this family photo experience.

I was struck by how remarkable this demonstration of phenomenon was. Most mediums act as the translator between us and our loved ones. The medium is the one to experience our loved ones, as they bring forth evidence to prove the continuity of life and to deliver messages of love and healing. But tonight, the phenomenon was personal. I felt. I saw.

Tonight the trumpet rose and the table tipped and twirled around the room. And it was amazing. But everything pales to the lifetime that I experienced during the minutes that Buppa's spirit stepped into mine, weaving in evidence and messages of love. 

Love is eternal. It is without dimensions. It is without form. 

Loving my grandfather now, like this, is something I hope that every heart broken by the loss of their loved one's life can experience.