My Life As a Medium

by Betty Shine

  I was particularly thrilled to have been able to help David, as he had been such a source of inspiration to me in the past and it was the nicest way I knew of saying, ‘thank you.’

  I had from time to time been asked to co-operate with experiments that were being carried out by scientists and doctors. I did this whenever possible, but the experiment and results were always kept secret and this attitude bored me to tears. Also, on several occasions, I felt that my intellect was being abused. How on earth do these people expect to make things happen when they have no idea what they are tampering with?

  There were one or two scientists who were open-minded enough to admit that although they did not understand psychic energy, they were convinced that it existed. I tried to explain that we simply do not know enough about these energies to be able to evaluate them correctly, and as they were not interested in having an intelligent rapport with the medium it all seemed such a waste of time and energy. I found the whole process so dreary. I preferred the instantaneous phenomena, which were more exciting, and if I could not prove the existence of another dimension to the whole world, then I certainly would not lose any sleep over it.

  Most phenomena are spontaneous for the simple reason that everything has to be just right for it to happen. Mediums usually have a feeling that something is about to happen, but this is only after many years of working in this field. But then, when you think you are beginning to understand, it changes – that is why the mystery remains unsolved for the moment. Every day I was intrigued by new happenings, and so I decided to make use of my clairvoyant sight, and study the energy that was constantly appearing in my home in one form or another.

  It is extremely difficult, I know, for those people who do not have clairvoyant sight to understand those that do. Mediums have been the butt of jokes for centuries, and it was the norm not so long ago for the media to stoop to ‘medium-bashing’, as it was called, when there was nothing more newsworthy around. As I had never previously been interested in the paranormal, I was completely unaware of the hostility that surrounded this profession.

  An open mind is the secret of life. Allowing your mind the freedom it needs to seek knowledge, and return it to you ‘gift-wrapped’, is the most wonderful experience. The next story is an example of this.

  A young lady in her twenties asked me to teach her how to meditate. We met once a week for an hour, meditating and talking. One day she said, ‘Whenever I meditate, I visualize mountains and valleys but before I can lose myself in the scenery a totally different picture overshadows it.’ Intrigued, I asked her what this was.

  ‘It’s a white cottage beside a lake. Then, the sun rises from behind some hills, and the lake begins to dance as the sunlight is reflected upon the waves. It is very beautiful.’

  ‘Anything else?’ I enquired.

  ‘No! That’s it.’

  ‘Does this scene stay with you during the whole of your meditation period?’ I asked.

  She thought for a moment. ‘Yes, it does,’ she said. ‘Do you know what it means?’

  Pausing to think for a moment, I was given an explanation. ‘I think your mind is linking into your future. The fact that the sun is rising over the lake signifies that it hasn’t happened yet. In other words, you are giving yourself your own clairvoyance.’

  She frowned, then laughed. ‘I don’t think I want to live with a fisherman,’ she said.

  I asked her to concentrate on a particular object when she meditated next. She followed my instructions, but the cottage and lake overshadowed everything she tried. Each week there were additions to the picture; first there was a car, then two black dogs, and most significant of all, a ski-lift in the background. Being an adept pupil, she soon learned the art of meditation and continued practising on her own.

  Eighteen months later I received a letter from Switzerland. The same young lady was now living in a white cottage on the Italian/Swiss border, on the edge of a lake, with two black dogs, two cars, and from the photograph she had sent me I could see a ski-lift in the background. She had added a PS: ‘Why didn’t I see both cars? Because the second car was a present from my husband, and it was a secret!’

  What was so refreshing about this young lady was the fact that she accepted without reservation everything that she was given. I have no doubt that her own clear vision will enable her to map out a successful future for herself.

  It is so easy for others to put you down simply because they cannot share your beliefs and talents. I have seen so many lovely open-minded people lose out because they hadn’t the courage to combat the cynicism of partners, relatives and close friends.

  I was extremely lucky. My family backed me all the way. Although they could not see the spirits them selves, they knew I was of sound mind, and they were often well aware that peculiar things were happening all around them. Doors inexplicably opened then shut of their own accord, and muted voices were heard by everyone, even visitors.

  There was always a tremendous amount of phenomena – for all to see – at Christmas, a time which is very special to me. When I lived in Sutton I always had a huge Christmas tree in the hall, decorated with the usual trinkets and flashing lights. Behind the tree a tape recorder played carols. One of my male patients was admiring the scene when he suddenly started to crawl around the tree on all fours.

  ‘Is this some kind of ritual?’ I laughingly enquired.

  He looked up. ‘Are these lights powered by batteries?’ he asked.

  ‘No, they’re plugged into the socket behind you.’

  ‘Betty, the plug is under the tree. The lights are working without any source of electricity.’

  I thought he was pulling my leg, but when I joined him at the back of the tree I could see the plug lying amongst the presents.

  ‘Where the hell is the power coming from?’ he asked.

  I had no idea.

  It was a complete mystery. The lights flashed all day of their own accord and went out at night. The next day, unfortunately, we had to resort to the use of electricity again.

  This was the beginning of what I was to call the ‘electric phenomena’. I would go into my bedroom and find that the bedside lamps had been switched on. If I had left them on, they would be switched off. Walking into the lounge I would find the television on, with no apparent source of supply, as the plug had been removed from the socket. When I was healing, the light would mysteriously dim until sometimes we were sitting in total darkness. But when I had finished the light would return to normal again. The answerphone would suddenly have a bout of whirring, with occasional bits of conversation drifting in and out of the noise. It suffered a breakdown, as did five other subsequent answering machines. Whilst looking at television one evening, the screen suddenly went blank, and I found myself looking at a man with strange penetrating eyes and peculiar garb. He had a hypnotic effect on me. A few minutes later the programme reappeared. I wondered later whether I had been dreaming, although I knew full well that I had not. After a while that is how these phenomena come to affect you. Living between two worlds all the time is not easy, and not always welcomed. On rare occasions it can be positively disrupting.

  One such occasion was when I was entertaining a friend for the evening. I closed the door of the lounge, and we sat down to enjoy our drinks. Within minutes we both heard a creaking sound coming from the other side of the door, and when we looked over, we saw the handle being turned. We knew that there was no one else in the house at the time, and so immediately thought there might be an intruder. My friend picked up a heavy ornament for protection as the door slowly opened, but when we investigated there was no one there. We closed the door, and the same thing happened again. By this time we were both annoyed, and looked in every nook and cranny in the house to make absolutely sure there was no other human being around playing tricks. But there was no one. In all, it happened four times that evening, but I was to be plagued by this particular phenomenon for some time. I wondered why if spirits could walk through doors, this
one was turning handles to open the door.

  Typical of the trend throughout my mediumship, this experience was the catalyst for a whole range of such happenings. Lying in bed one night I heard two ladies whispering together as the door slowly opened. The energy they brought with them caused my bed to start moving. Although I could not see the spirits, I ‘knew’ who they were. The previous occupants of my house had been three elderly ladies. In their youth, two had been actresses and a third a dancer. It was only after the death of her two companions that the third had sold up.

  I had found masses of newspaper cuttings about all three in the attic and, on reading them, had found that they had been very talented. Artists are often very psychic, and I believe that these two ladies were simply visiting their beloved home, hoping to meet with their friend again.

  At first I had found these night-time visits disturbing, and had asked for them to be curtailed. So I was surprised to find later that they no longer bothered me, mainly because the love these entities brought with them was so tangible that I could almost touch it.

  Love! There it was again. That word had become part of my everyday teaching – mainly because I was meeting so many people who felt unloved.

  One such person was a middle-aged man who had asked me for healing and counselling. He complained that his family treated him badly, and that his children positively disliked him. I could understand this, as I could ‘feel’ the aggression which was simmering below the surface. We talked for some time and then he said, ‘They should respect me. After all I am the breadwinner.’ I suggested that if the breadwinner was unloved then the family could actually be choking on the bread.

  He looked at me and said, ‘Do you really think I am that bad?’

  ‘I think you might be,’ I replied.

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Because I can feel the aggression within you.’

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘not so many years ago, we were a big happy family. I don’t know what went wrong.’ I was able to give him an account of the past so that he could identify the problem.

  He came for healing every week for two months. Although he had been cured of his arthritis in the first two weeks, I guessed that he just wanted a sympathetic listener. On his last visit, he said, ‘I like you, you don’t give me any bull.’ I laughed.

  About eighteen months later, he called at the door and handed me a bunch of roses, saying, ‘I’ve made my peace with the wife and kids, thanks to you.’ He smiled. ‘It took some doing. I can tell you. I had to eat humble pie for the first time in my life, but it was worth it to have them hug me again.’

  To feel unloved is terrible. To know that you are unloved because of your own past actions is worse.

  It became obvious to me, through survival evidence, that the majority of people felt that their mother had been the only person in their life to have loved them unconditionally. Tears would flow, when their mothers recalled their childhood and sent them messages of love.

  Through these encounters I learned of the deep unhappiness caused by uncaring people, from all walks of life. It is true to say that familiarity breeds contempt, and yet it is the people with whom we are familiar, our partners and friends, who keep us going when times are difficult.

  Mental cruelty is far more common than physical violence, and it starts from childhood. Almost everyone has practised some form of mental cruelty at some time in their lives, but sensitive human beings will know when they have done wrong. And if they cannot right a wrong, then they can certainly change. But it is the premeditated mental cruelty that goes undetected by those who are not immediately involved. One example of this is when a marriage breaks down and ends in divorce. The perpetrator of the suffering is exposed; the victims have often experienced the most abject misery for many years before they are released.

  Emotional difficulties cause much pain. Trying to help those who are going through a divorce is like stepping into a war zone, and yet someone has to be there, standing to one side, otherwise both parties could be dreadfully injured during the battle.

  It is never too late to rectify our actions. Many people, before they die, leave letters for those they have treated badly, asking for forgiveness. This eases their passing, and makes it easier for the injured party to forgive.

  Whilst giving survival evidence, I have found it is very common for the communicator to ask to be forgiven. Very often, the sitter will say that there is nothing to forgive. When this happens, I am given a graphic account of the deed and the circumstances surrounding it. It may be something quite insignificant, but it became obvious to me over the years that it was extremely important to the person who was now living in a more beautiful and loving environment, and who had obviously been shown the error of their ways.

  I had been told many times during survival evidence that when one dies the whole of your life passes before you like tickertape. It is over in what seems to be only seconds, but in that time you are left in no doubt about the havoc you have caused during your lifetime.

  It can be argued that it is mainly other people who send us to hell in this life. This is only partly true. We also allow them to do it. Sometimes, as the following story shows, one is unable to do anything about it at the time, for a hundred different reasons. But, as the saying goes, every dog has its day.

  Nancy was a conscientious mother of four children, whose ages ranged from four to fourteen. Her husband was an absolute charmer outside the home, but to his family he was a monster. As well as being a ladies’ man and a liar, he had, over the years, perfected the art of mental cruelty. I had known them both for many years, and Nancy had been a patient for a year. The healing had eased some of her pain, but she was trapped and they both knew it. First of all, she had no money of her own, and the house was in her husband’s name only. On my advice she tried to get help from several organizations but it seemed that no one could ease her suffering. She was not a physically battered wife, and the mental scars did not show.

  However, one day a friend offered her a job where she could live in with her children. She turned the offer down, admitting to me that she simply did not have the courage to leave. I could understand her reaction, for when one has lived with mental cruelty and rejection for so long, enduring it becomes a habit, and one becomes masochistic. Her life continued in this vein until she became very ill. I had warned her that this would happen. Fortunately her friends removed Nancy and her children from her home and nursed her back to health.

  Two years later I met her again. She was brimming over with good health, happy and successful in her own right. Whilst we were talking she admitted that she had made her own life hell by refusing to leave. ‘If only I had been more courageous,’ she said.

  Of course, not everyone has wonderful friends that come like shining knights to the rescue, but we are all capable of using visualization to conjure up pictures of the kind of life we want to lead. We are also capable of planning our escape routes. The only way most of us can cope at times is by escaping into a dream world but, with courage, it could and should materialize in this dimension.

  Dream-time is so important to us all. Day-dreaming is the answer for everyone who is overstressed, whether at work or in the home. Unlike meditation, you do not have to prepare yourself, but can simply drift off when you have a moment to spare. You may be thinking about a person, a holiday, an object – a new house, or car for example, the list is endless and the dream is your own.

  The only danger comes if you believe that the materialistic dream can become reality without the hard work needed to attain it. Everything gained by deceit of any kind will bring with it a price, and that price will have to be paid when you are at your lowest ebb. That is spiritual law, and is illustrated by the following story.

  A young man coveted another man’s position within the same firm. He knew how much salary the other man received, and was envious of the rewards that it provided – a nice home, a BMW sports car, and the luxurious holidays with his wife.


  The young man began to undermine his superior in small ways, waiting for his chance to pounce when he took his next holiday.

  When this happened he conned the bosses into believing that their colleague had been using his power to undermine the firm and pass information on to a similar company. The plan worked, and when his superior returned from holiday he was told to leave.

  The young man was eventually given the position he had coveted, and he bought a BMW sports car and tried to emulate the life-style of his ex-colleague. Within a year he had lost the job, the car, and the life-style, when he was found to be totally unsuitable for the position because of his laziness. His lies were unearthed later. He had made the mistake of believing that he could simply reap the rewards of another person’s hard work.

  Two years later, the business ran into financial difficulties and was saved from bankruptcy by the man he had deceived.

  We all have a spiritual log-book, and the keeper of that book will only identify themselves when we leave this dimension. It is then, and only then, that the content will be made known to us so that we can redress the balance.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I had been living in a psychic circus for six years now, and it was finally beginning to calm down. The phenomena were more disciplined, which meant that I could plan my time more effectively.

  Faces still appeared on the walls, but I was able to recognize them now and act upon them, sometimes preventing a major catastrophe. The following story is about one of these near-disasters.

  I was standing in the hall of my home when, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something moving. I turned, and saw a swirling mass of energy covering the wall behind me. I stood entranced as the mass was moulded into a face. Even the spectacles were there! I recognized the person immediately, felt the urgency of the message and called the lady in question. There was no answer. I phoned her daughter, who lived nearby, told her what had happened, and asked her to visit her mother to make sure that nothing was amiss. She said that she would leave at once, and promised to call me when she arrived at her mother’s home. Two hours passed. I was becoming increasingly disturbed as I linked into the mother, because I was not getting the normal response from her energies that I would have expected. Then her daughter called me. Apparently, she had found her mother in a deep coma, after a stroke. The hospital staff told her that if her mother had been brought in any later, she could have died. In fact, she made a full recovery.