One Sunday morning, around twenty-three years ago, an image of my eldest daughter suddenly flashed across the screen of my mind – with an egg-shaped lump on her forehead. She was just about to put on a pair of roller skates, but, thanks to my ‘vision’, I was one step ahead. I took them from her, saying, “not today”, satisfied that I had averted a nasty little fall. That afternoon, her father took her and her brother and sister to visit their aunt. On the way back, she tripped over a paving stone and… you’ve guessed it… ended up with a big shiny bump, just below her hairline!
That’s the trouble with intuition – it often teases us with tantalising tit-bits, rather than providing the whole story. It may be that we could follow up an intuitive ‘flash’ with some serious contemplation, expanding upon what we have already sensed, or seen – but, in my experience, even that isn’t always enough. It is as if our mind provides pieces of the jigsaw, but rarely the whole puzzle. Sometimes, we don’t need any further information and can make good use of what we have; more often than not, though, we could definitely do with a bit more! I suppose it depends upon what we are trying to achieve, and the following story will explain what I mean:
Two little girls had gone missing, and the story was all over the news. Maybe it was because I had two young daughters myself that I became incredibly emotionally involved. I decided to use my intuitive skills to try and work out what had happened to them and where they currently were. If I wasn’t working with my customers, or taking care of the family, I was ‘tuning-in’, pouring over a map, and making copious notes. I had never visited the area in which the children lived, but what I did have was what I’d read in the press and heard on television, and I used that as a starting point. Intuitively, I narrowed my search down to two military bases, favouring one in particular. I even drew a picture of a high metal fence which sloped at the top, and was next to a narrow track. What appeared to be a temporary sign had been placed alongside the pathway, saying “keep out”. I showed it to a friend but had no idea what it really meant. If I had been free to travel to the town in question, I probably would have done so; I was convinced that I would be able to find the place I was seeing in my mind… even though I had no clue as to what I’d find there.
I became a little obsessed, I have to admit, but something was compelling me to keep digging away with my mind. I ended up with a collection of images and a lot of random stuff scribbled on a notepad – but not enough to lead to anything substantial. However, the scene of the fence and the narrow pathway would not shift from my mind; I phoned the police three times, explaining all that I could see, and urging them to check that particular area out. Which of course they didn’t (to the best of my knowledge, at least), because I would have been only one out of hundreds – possibly thousands – of people, calling to report our ‘psychic’ visions. They were probably inundated, and highly irritated, because a number of the callers would have been attention-seeking odd-balls; others would have been well-meaning but way off the mark; some, however, would have had something of significance to offer, and you can bet your bottom dollar that one particular story would have emerged, if all of the information had been collated and compared. I would not have been the only one to see what I did, and others probably saw even more than I did. The sad fact is, though, that even if the police had wanted to go through it all with a fine-tooth comb, they wouldn’t have had the time or the resources. I know that some law enforcement agencies do sometimes consult with intuitives, but they are probably still the exception, rather than the rule.
Anyway, one afternoon I received a telephone call from the friend I had shown my drawing to. “Have you seen the news? Go and turn on the TV, now!” she commanded. I did – and was confronted with the image I had been struggling to understand and see beyond. A tall wire fence, a pathway, and a no-entry sign. Apparently, it led to where the children’s poor little bodies had been found. I was immediately winded as if I’d been punched hard in the stomach: it was too late, they were gone. I really don’t know what I’d imagined I might achieve, anyway… find them alive, I think, even though it was looking less and less likely. In hindsight, I realised that all I had been doing was following behind. And so many of the things I had written down made no sense when the story was presented in the press… at least, that is, until the findings of the inquest were released.
I know that I certainly got one thing wrong. I had a strong sense of an American car, and my interpretation was that it must have been used to carry the bodies. However, the vehicle in question turned out to be a Ford (I know that the Ford Motor Company is an American organisation, but I can’t say for sure that that was the connection I was making). However, other details, which I won’t go into here, made more sense as more of the facts came to light. And, I clearly remember one particular image that flashed across the screen of my mind, of a man’s midsection; he was wearing a leather belt on his trousers, and the buckle was offset to one side, rather than being centred above the zip. Whilst the search for the girls was still underway, a television news crew interviewed a guy who was ultimately charged with their murder… and my heart missed several beats when I noticed his belt – it had shifted to one side, and the buckle was not in the middle. It was exactly as I had seen it in my mind.
However, none of it made even a jot of difference. That night, after learning that the bodies had been found, I was really, really ill. It might sound dramatic, but I even wondered if I was dying! I can only surmise that it was the effect of the previous two weeks, and all of the emotional and intuitive energy I had poured into my self-imposed task of uncovering the whereabouts of the girls. And I swore that I would never, ever put myself through such an experience again (as selfish as that might sound). It was a complete and utter waste of time, and the sense of loss and failure was enormous. I am sure that I have seen claims that this or that psychic solved the case, or at least played a huge role in resolving it, and that might be true. I did hear that someone (who had either been invited or had just chosen to show up) was adamant that the answer lay in a place that was nowhere near where the sweet souls were found. In the end, it was actually a member of the public – not an intuitive, or even the police – who came across them, bringing the desperate search to a close.
So, you can see why I say that intuitive visions and insights can be frustrating, from the point of view that they often leave too many gaps. I did question myself and my own capability… perhaps it was simply that I wasn’t ‘good enough’. But then, I caught a few episodes of Psychic Detectives, and was pleasantly surprised to recognise that most of them were working in precisely the same way that I do, and that they too were trying to fit images and feelings together, whilst pondering the missing pieces. I rarely watch television shows about psychic stuff; I can’t stand most of them, viewing them as over the top and silly (only my opinion, of course, and I would hate to put you off them if you enjoy them!). I found Psychic Detectives to be different, in that the participants came across as down-to-earth and humble, acknowledging that they work in conjunction with the police, rather than solving it all themselves. Obviously, the subject material was usually heartbreaking – there is nothing entertaining about murder, or the mysterious disappearance of loved ones. However, the way in which most of them went about it was reassuring to me, and I understood what they were doing. I too usually work with my eyes shut (it is amazing what you can ‘see’, in the space that lies behind closed eyelids!); I too receive sudden insights, be they images or strong feelings (when I say ‘receive’, I mean from my own mind). What struck me was how effective a combination of science and intuition can actually be – but, it is going to be a very long time before the mainstream agrees with that!
I dabbled with one or two other cases, but certainly nowhere to the degree that I did over the missing girls. Many of the insights I jotted down came to make sense further down the line, but, as I said earlier, they didn’t lead anywhere productive. In conclusion, it seems that intuition alone is not always enough – especially where serious situations are concerned – and that science can fill in some of the gaps (and vice versa, of course). Psychic detectives were called in to assist with those cases because the police had empty spaces in puzzles that they were attempting to complete… gaps that needed to be filled. As for the two little souls who left this world in such a heartbreaking way, they became my Night Birds. A few days after they had been found, I was sitting at the dining table, weeping, and listening to old vinyl albums. Shakatak was playing, and the song Night Birds came on… and the sense of them was so strong that, for me, it became their song. Now, every time I hear it, I think about them. In fact, there was a night when I was driving home alone, listening to music as I always do, and Night Birds began to play – just as a bird swooped down onto the road in front of me, where it settled for a few seconds, before taking flight again. It was very late and it was very dark; there were no other birds around, and there was nothing on the road to attract one. A coincidence maybe… but I like to think not.