A Grandfather’s Message

Last month I visited one of Manchester’s north-eastern satellite towns called Shaw. I went on a whim, and had map-dowsed the place I should go to, only to find that it had family connections – my grandparents had lives there. I remember visiting my grandmother in Shaw, but my grandfather had died before I was born, so I never knew him except via a photograph. When I got there I was directed to go and meet with the shade of my grandfather. He told me that he had a special message for me, and that I would need to return just before Samhain in order to obtain the information.

I waited eagerly until close to the fated time and then began to get twitchy – when would the day be best to do this? I dowsed it out and found that Wednesday 26th October would be the ideal date, and then the energy associated with this task would wane very quickly. Only one slight snag with that date – I was due to attend a day’s course in London for work and I couldn’t do otherwise!

By Wednesday evening I had almost given up hope of making it back from London in a reasonable time. Traffic was terrible, the weather was bad, and I had missed my motorway junction right at the start adding half an hour to my journey time. Several hours later I was in two minds as to whether to go, given that I only got back home at 9pm. Nevertheless I went, travelling an hour north past Manchester to reach the hills above Shaw. Call it dedication. Call it madness. Call it a calling. I made the journey in the darkness and dampness.

Having recce’d the site before everything was straightforward, even though it was dark this time. I knew where to park, how to get to the hill, and what kind of path to expect. Even though it was new moon and there was no moonlight the hill was oddly lit. Maybe it was the ambient lighting of the towns in the valley below?

The dowsing rods led me to the same place as last time to communicate – a small semi-circular recess slightly back from the edge of the sheer drop into nothingness at the edge of the Besom Hill‘s sheer edge. Oh yes, “Besom Hill”. as in “besom broomstick” associated with witches. On Halloween. I know. Again – I was completely ignorant of this until I came to write this post up and view the place on an OS map. Really! This is just how these things happen.

I crassly asked for a physical sign of my grandfather’s presence. This was responded to by a distant boom, like a loud firework going off or a thunderclap. I took this to be fireworks because Bonfire Night was only a week or so away, and I tried again. Same thing. I asked for one more time. Same happened again. I asked for something more local to happen, and nothing happened. I can’t be sure what happened really, whether I was responded to or not, but the dowsing rods confirmed the presence of a spirit that responded as my grandfather.

I put some crystals around me to enhance my protection and focus the spirit. We communicated, and after a few minutes I began to see images and hear my voice talking about ancestors. It was talking about gathering the energy of my ancestors and accumulating that energy to enhance my own personal power – not in an egotistical way, more as a means to increase my abilities. My grandfather’s spirit suggested strongly that I should begin a task of going around finding and collecting any remaining family ancestor energies.

I asked if it was the same thing to obtain the energy of a spirit such as the one I had obtained co-operation from at Clun Castle. The answer was NO. This was different. Then I was shown a picture of ancient people going into megalithic sites to go through a ritual to commune and merge with their ancestors’ spirits. I asked if I could do the same. I felt something sit with me in the same place as I was, and then it began to merge with me so that I was seeing through its eyes, which were my eyes, because it was also seeing through me. I felt the energy form become one with me and I shivered a little, even though I was warm.

I dowsed as to what had just happened. My grandfather’s energy had entered into my own energy form. I had been protected against other spirits doing this, and had only allowed the spirit of my grandfather to do this, so I was happy that I had got the right energy form. I set off back home and got diverted back a junction again on the M62 motorway. Really, someone or something was trying to make this as difficult as possible for me! I was tired enough already from nine hours of driving that day!

When I got home I dowsed if any change had occurred to me – YES, my spiritual and magickal power had increased. I don’t know what this means yet, or how I could measure it, or what the consequences might be, but it was an interesting experience. Time will tell if it was beneficial! In terms of collecting my ancestor spirits – one down and several to go?

Gwas.