I arrived in Glasgow and booked into a motel room that was central and would let me do some shopping close to town. The taxi drivers at the train station had been a cheeky lot, looking at the size and bulge of my overpacked suitcase and laughing amongst themselves, with one saying, "What have you got inside of that? Your husband?" There was a real difference between the energy of Edinbugh and Glasgow. I prefered Edinburgh. At the same time it had been so creepy to even pass through it on the train, that I was pleased to be out of the shadow of that city. Being in Glasgow was like stepping out into strong sunlight. I didn't like it, but somehow I knew that it was better for me. While the high from the college was still propping me up, I felt like being alone. So I closed myself into my room and lay on the bed.
It was once I was relaxed that the lightplay began to take shape on the wall in front of me. At first it was just the afternoon light outside coming in through the window. Then as my eyes locked onto and focused on the image, my father's face gradually developd in the light. Sometimes it looked as if another less defined face was appearing next to his. Come on, dad, you can do it, I urged him on. Got the chin right. You've got the forehead and the hair right. Behind my father was this giant eye, and what seemed to waver between a human eyed and perhaps a giant cat's eye. I wonder why it's doing that? I didn't have a camera that worked since my Sony Cybershot broke in Edinburgh, so I took out a small sketch pad and drew what I saw.
Sketch Of My Father's Face And Giant Eye That Appeared On The Wall [1], The Newton Hotel, Glasgow, Scotland.
I wrote the following in a journal which will give an indication of what I was thinking and how I was feeling at the time:
"... From 6.00pm I noticed that a giant eye had apperared on the wall above me over the wardrobe. As I watched it I saw it start to move and some spirit faces start to develop on it. This was caused by a very slight movement in the curtain behind me, indicating light and shadow play on the wall. From 6.00pm until 6.30pm I watched spirit faces on the wall. This involved the attempted formation of several faces and the gradual construction of my father's face, starting with this squarish forehead, dark hair, obvious brow and eyes and eventually the cheeks ear and chin.
The entire time that I watched this, his face moved in and out like energy was involved, but managed to maintain the same structure. This seemed to take some time, since when his face had first started to appear, it could quickly change into other faces, mouths one time and then two men's faces appeared, but all were shifting shape and coming in and out of focus. After some time of watching and encouraging, dad's face became the primary face, and this remained, doing its own shifting and changing, but maintaining the basic structure.
All the while that this was occurring, I heard the high pitched harmonies that I describe as 'angels singing' and that were heard after Binda's death and leading up to the death of Kindi [my two dogs]. As I write this, the angels singing sound has faded, and my father's face is still morphing on the wall. His face remains in exactly the same position, on the right hand side on the pupil of the eye with the lid, giving the illusion that there is a heart.
It is now 6.40pm and dad's face has continued to maintain its position. I am more than happy to have this connection with him, and to continue to send him my love, as he gently fades in and out on the great eye. Dad may be in a process of perfecting himself, and I remain more determined than ever to pursue the unfoldment of my consciousness, with the learning and understanding of mediumship, being one of those things involved in this unfoldment.
Sketch Of My Father's Face And Giant Eye That Appeared On The Wall [2], The Newton Hotel, Glasgow, Scotland.
The pupil on the wall has changed, so that it now becomes my own eye. I note than anywhere I am in the room, that dad's face is still there and holding its position. To me, this eye is a representation of ego and consciousness, and this is about both dad and myself developing our consciousness with the assistance of our guides, in order to maintain and strengthen the link, or what dad has now refered to as 'the bridge' between us.
Aside from one large involuntary tear, I do not cry with the same amount of pain after my first contact with dad. Even as the image will begin to fade, I know that dad will be back, and that one day I will meet him again, either in this world or the next. This will be when my consciousness is developed enough to understand what I am seeing, and I believe when dad has found the energy required in order to manifest.
It is 9.45pm and my father's face is still on the wall ... I have been thinking about him and the eye. Each time I saw the words "You are the great eye of compassion" or "You are the great eye of love", the whole eye becomes blank while maintaining its shape. Dad's face remains as it is with minor variations, and several times when I have reminded him of something, like telling Dale [my brother] about him, or visiting his grave when I get to Sydney, I have seen his downturned mouth uplift slightly into a small smile.
Once when I thinking about the above, the light went out and a car alarm went on outside, and when I thought of Binda the light dimmed, and all the next day while speaking to mum on the phone, to meditating on the eye and dad, there have been tiny light flashes in the room. Some of them had appeared to come from passing traffic outside, but as usual timing is everything. I find another message for mum in the bathroom when on the taps of the towel heater is says the word COSMOS ..."
I went to sleep that night in an elevated state of mind. More and more, it seemed as I was on some kind of spiritual high, that I had no intention of coming down from. I'd had very little interest in the human world to begin with, and now, whatever interest I may have briefly experienced, had almost completely vanished. I craved the other world. Not so much the interaction with the deceased, but it was angels and fairies that I was comfortable with. I related to them, better than I did to the living or the dead. But there was a problem, that being, that my limited experiences with psychic mediumship, had taught me that the world of the dead was far from perfect. If anything it was contrived, alluring, constructed, veiled and spooky. But I didn't care.
Firstly, I wanted heaven on earth, and then I wanted to know that there was this perfect world after life. I wanted this, but more than anything, I wanted the truth in regards to my guides and my deceased loved ones. Only then would I stop searching.
The Lovely Bones [Perfect World].
This website is part of my personal testimony and has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.
