We’ve been in the UK for a few days now and finally got a chance to go walking around London.

Our hostess for the first two days was a generous lady named Dorothy and we’ve now semi-settled in at a youth hostel called the Clink…an old courthouse.

On our first day out around London I had some brief but interesting experiences involving the spirit realm.

The area of North London that we were staying in was relatively devoid of that old London, spiritual feeling. But as we headed from there off towards St. Pauls Cathedral the energy began building up. I could feel dense spiritual activity about a block or two away from St. Pauls.

Inside St. Pauls we were unable to walk around the main section of the Cathedral due to it being smack dab in the middle of Sunday services, but the choir at least sounded quite lovely.

We saw some of the first transept and then headed downstairs into the old crypts where the cathedral has its cafe and gift shop.
I am not exactly sure what the history of this crypt is as it seemed to be corpse-free. I think it must have been emptied or destroyed by some calamity, perhaps a flood or the Great Fire of London in the 17th century.

However empty of actual graves it may or may not have been, it was certainly not empty of spirits. When we walked down the first six or seven stairs and began to get close to the actual crypt I hit a cloud of spiritual activity so thick that I simply had to pause and stand still for a second.

It was very chaotic energy. Some of the spirits were aware of each other and some were not.

All that I encountered were male energies, all of different walks of life.

The first energy was either interred here in the darkness of this underground crypt while he was still alive or he firmly believed that he was still alive even though he wasn’t. He was saying over and over again, “Please let me out of here. I am not dead. I should not be here.”

There was then another spirit, who I felt was some kind of monk or priest, he was dressed all in white and had very peaceful energy. He was speaking in response to the first spirit saying, “Why should you want to get out? This is where we are. It is what it is.”

And the most intriguing of all the voices was the final voice, a very proud (and somewhat amusing) man who was conversing solely with himself. He was, even in death, still concerned about appearances and status.

“I made it,” he was saying, “I have been a success. No matter what they say about me now, at least I was buried at St. Pauls. Amazing! That I was buried at St. Pauls.”

How funny, his desire to be a status symbol, even in death. But at least he was happy.

After leaving St. Pauls we walked across the Millennium Bridge, gazed curiously at a special anti-pollution gadget in the Thames River which claimed to eat garbage, and paid a visit to the Tate Modern to see people gazing with wonder at a Doris Salcedo exhibit which was nothing more than a deliberate crack in some cement flooring.

We snapped a few spooky pictures in the lighted birch stands in front of the museum and walked on towards Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.

The tours had stopped running for the day but just walking past the historic houses next to the theatre brought on an interesting spiritual experience.

As we strolled, arm-in-arm, I caught a whiff of wood smoke on the breeze, no doubt from the chimney of one of those old houses, and it immediately shifted me into a past life visual.

I could see these same streets and alleyways only probably about 400-500 years earlier. There were lots of wooden walkways alongside the Thames and a curved stone foot bridge of some kind.

And then suddenly there was the smell of roast pig intermingled with that wood smoke….a case of past life smells and present-day smells mixing in my mind.

As I looked up from this brief reverie, there was a very stylish young woman walking towards me, typically European in her mannerisms, smoking a cigarette. She looked happy enough, and yet I instantly knew that in a past life she had been an outcast, persecuted and hung for witchcraft, right here in London.

I could see the energetic imprint of a noose glowing around her neck.

This all most likely occurred in that same time period from which I had just shifted back before I glimpsed her condition.

She was blissfully unaware of this past reality. And yet that energy carried with her through who knows how many lifetimes. I felt that she goes through this current life constantly feeling as if the world owes her something, like a chip on her shoulder that is actually a rope on her neck.

If only more people practiced meditation and energy work…I wish this young lady both joy and balance in this lifetime, enough to negate the wrongs of other lifetimes and set her free from such low-vibration experiences.

As for Serge and I, it is four more days in London and then off to the Bristol area to work on a farm for 7 days. :-)

Be well.

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