way on my day-to-day life. When I feel I need help, I ask for it through my thoughts. I trust that it will come, and it does – often in a manner that I would never have anticipated.
In 1998 I was looking through some papers when a newspaper feature about Margaret Anna from a decade earlier literally jumped out at me. I’d put it to one side years ago, and completely forgotten about it. Here it was again, and I knew there was a message for me. As I looked at it I received a strong message that Margaret Anna wanted to collaborate with me in writing a book. After a lapse of over twenty years since our initial contact I was surprised, but delighted, by that development. By that stage I knew not to ask what the book would be about. I trusted that that would be revealed in due course.
Margaret Anna Cusack was a remarkable woman by any standards. In having the honour of collaborating with her I’m expressing my admiration and respect for her as an outstanding pioneering spirit to whom the world owes much. Later on in the book she describes how, after her passing, she reviewed what she had achieved while she was on earth – an assessment of her earthly life.
In her life on earth Margaret Anna presented us with an inspirational example of the significant, even though often unacknowledged, impact one person can make on global consciousness. And she’s obviously not resting on her laurels. So many of us play down our potential, and believe that one person cannot make a real difference. Margaret Anna has shown otherwise, and one of the most important elements of this book is based on her wish that people live their lives to the fullest, and make the most of what they have. The overriding message of this book is one of hope. Margaret Anna’s wish is that all souls will be released from victimhood – particularly that of fear – so that all can experience their blissful heritage of unconditional love.
My introduction to Margaret Anna and my continuing relationship with her were hugely influential factors in my fuller involvement in the lives of others – giving ‘readings’ to individuals and later writing books, running courses and doing talks. I just accept that she’s there and I ask for her help as I feel I need it. As will be obvious from later chapters in this book, she’s involved in all sorts of helpful activities and I’m only one of her many ‘charges’.
Chapter 3
Life after Death
My journey through life has confirmed my acceptance of the continuity of life after death. I grew up believing that we were confined to a specific fate according to our behaviour on earth, but what I learned next made much more sense to me. There was no fear in this new understanding; it soon became clear that life after death not only existed, but was a vibrant, positive experience. I’d always been open to (and found great comfort in) the idea that I had guardian angels helping me through life. They continue to do so, and through them I am able to help others as well.
Margaret Anna is just one of those guardian angels who has changed my life forever. The fact that she was a real person, who actually existed in the ‘real world’ before her death in 1899, undoubtedly provided proof of the continuity of life. She is now sharing her wisdom with humans on earth, and I have no doubts about her existence. But life in spirit is something very different from life on earth, and Margaret Anna has been hugely influential in defining and explaining that world. I can’t hop in and out of the spirit world in order to carry back shoals of information. Fortunately, there are evolved and generous souls like Margaret Anna who want to lift the burden of fear from us by telling us what to expect when the time comes for us to move on. Through Margaret Anna and to a lesser extent my other guides I have learned a great deal about the ‘next life’.
By the time I came to write this book I had been used to the idea of Margaret Anna as one of my spirit guides for many years and I certainly wasn’t slow in asking for her help when I found myself, as I often did, in challenging situations. I didn’t bother waiting for answers. I just asked and trusted that the answers would come in their own good time, which they invariably did.
Collaborating with Margaret Anna on a book was a different, perhaps more immediate, type of experience. My communication with her wasn’t like having an ordinary conversation with another human being. She didn’t come and sit beside me and I didn’t see her or visualise her. (Later on I saw photographs of her in her older age, but at first I had no idea what she looked like.) The only way I can describe the communication is that I felt her presence – a warm, comforting, humorous sort of feeling – so I knew when the communication was happening and when it wasn’t. She wasn’t using words but, rather, conveying impressions to me that I expressed in my own words. It was a seamless type of experience that, I suppose, could be regarded as similar to telepathy, although that’s an inadequate description. Even though it would have been easier for me if I could have just written down words coming directly from her, it was more fulfilling for me to use my own words – and, of course, that helped me to raise my level of consciousness.
I was also reassured by the fact that she wouldn’t let me get away with any misinterpretations. How did I know this? I just did, in the same way that I knew when she was communicating with me and when she wasn’t. In our first session Margaret Anna conveyed that she’d like to talk about her own experience since she passed on. I could hardly wait to hear more about that. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that what happens after the death of the body is a ‘burning’ question; certainly it is for the people I have met over many years. I suggest that even the ‘when you’re dead, you’re dead’ brigade have some niggles of curiosity about it from time to time.
I personally didn’t have any doubts about the continuity of life. I never kept any records of my individual sessions with people, as it was vitally important for them that they could trust in the confidentiality of whatever transpired at our meetings, but occasionally something memorable emerged, which stayed in my mind. I didn’t have any particular agenda when people came to me; obviously, spontaneity was an essential ingredient in the whole process.
I preferred to concentrate on communication with guides, and to address career or relationship issues – or generally philosophical matters. But my meetings were always different, and the tone and the content were guided by the needs of my visitors, and the communication with the guides. In the early stages I actively hoped that messages from ‘dead’ relatives didn’t come through, mainly because I didn’t want to risk misleading anyone. I wanted to be absolutely sure that whatever connection I made in such a sensitive area was 100 per cent genuine. I suppose also that I didn’t fully trust my ability as a communicator. But some readings undoubtedly had a mediumistic element – where the communication was coming from a relative or friend of the person seeking the reading. The readings took place in an intimate setting (a small room) devoid of any distractions, the main feature being two comfortable chairs – one for myself and the other for the sitter. The duration of the readings was approximately two hours. What happened within those two hours was largely beyond my control.
Working with my guides was altogether different from trying to connect with somebody who might be totally new to that type of communication. But, as time went on, and almost in spite of myself, I got messages and information for many people from relatives or friends who had passed on. The nature of the information was such that there could be no doubt about the authenticity of the experiences. Sometimes what I was receiving from my contacts in spirit made no sense to me, but when I plucked up the courage to convey it to the people concerned it was invariably significant for them.
Two sessions in particular spring to mind. I have altered the names of the sitters to protect their identity. I don’t like the word ‘medium’ but, as I can’t think of a better alternative to convey the sense of a bridge between the physical and the spirit worlds, it will have to do.
Becoming a medium
One day, many years ago, I had an appointment with a woman called Josephine. While I was waiting for her at my home, a man’s name kept repeating over
