My Path to Radionics

This story was my first healing experience … what had happened To me, had now happened Through me. I would never be the same again. The two-way experience was not only a part of me but had changed my entire outlook on life, and no amount of argument against such phenomena would ever convince me that it could not or did notoccur.

My second experience came a few days later when our milkman hobbled up the path to our front door. I happened to be looking out of I he window, and went out to meet him.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s not me leg, it’s me back. It’s giving me jip.’ Here we go again my inner voice said.

“Come into the hall,” I invited, and safely out of sight I put my hand on his buttock.

After a few minutes he exclaimed, “Blime Guv, wot yer got in yer ‘and? Like ‘lectric fire, yer ‘and is, but the pain’s going.” He began stretching and bending his leg cautiously, and five minutes after that he walked happily away to complete his rounds.

Next day I waylaid him and asked him how the back was, and he told me his story. “Tell the truth, when yer called me into yer ‘ouse yesterday, I was going to ask if I could use yer ‘phone to get a relief. Felt as if I couldn’t take another step.”

“And how did you manage after you left here?”

“Well, it was a bit stiff up ter the end of the road, but then, blime I forgot all about it! Thanks a lot.”

My third experience came quickly on the heels of these two. I was asked to go and see a man in a neighbouring street. When I arrived he was sitting in his dining room looking utterly miserable. To my query he replied, “I’ve got an open wound on my ankle. I’m supposed to go on hospital convalescence, but they won’t take me with an open wound.”

His ankle was covered with a dressing, and to treat it I would have to work through this. Very gingerly I rested my hand on the bandage for a few minutes.

“I’ll come back again in a couple of days’ time,” I promised.

When I returned to keep my promise, his wife opened the door to me, and before I could even ask after her husband, cried excitedly, “He’s gone! He’s gone!”

“But he can’t have,” I exclaimed. “He’s got an open wound. He told ine they wouldn’t take him.”

“lie’s gone all the same,” she said triumphantly, “After you ‘did’ him the wound was completely closed up by the next morning.”

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These happenings left me in a somewhat dazed state of mind, ruminating on my three healing experiences … a sprained ankle … lumbago … an open wound. By now I was really thirsting for knowledge. Principally I wanted to know what made ‘Healing’ work? To me it had become a burning question, and searching for the answer became the overwhelming objective in my life. I wanted to know what healing was all about and how health could be restored in seemingly hopeless cases. Were there, I asked myself, laws relating to health and disease which were unknown to the medical profession? Who was qualified to work in this field, and were there any special procedures involved? I found answers to my questions in due course, but I had to learn that personal experiences enable one to speak with convincing authority. For example, when someone says to me, “I’ve been in pain for years!” I can say with conviction, “I know, I’ve been there.” And when someone says, “My doctor says I’ve got to learn to live with it. There’s nothing more I can do for you”, I can reply, “This is probably untrue, I have been cured of an incurable complaint.”

Wondering where I should go in pursuit of my enquiries, a simple incident swung the direction of my thoughts back towards Spiritualism. I was driving from Chiswick to London one day when I saw a young man I had met occasionally. We did not know each other well, but I stopped and offered him a lift. No sooner were we on our way than he turned to me and asked if I knew there was a Spiritualist Centre in a nearby road. This was two roads from where I was living. I replied that I did not, but I made a note of the address. The point about this conversation was that neither of us knew the other had any leaning towards the subject, and I never saw him again.

But I took his remark as a clue – followed it up and visited the Centre. There I joined the ranks of a Healer who was working there one evening a week.

At the same time I continued my investigations into another side of Spiritualism by attending a number of ‘Direct Voice Seances’. As keenly critical l as I tried to be, I found much of the strange phenomena that went on at a sitting intrigued me.

For example, there was a queer cold breeze round our feet at the beginning; always trumpets whirling round the ceiling; whilst on several occasions the room was filled with a revolting, but definitely non-physical ‘odour’. Once we all felt moisture like fine rain falling on us and when the lights were turned up and we examined our clothes, they were damp. These phenomena seemed to me beyond normal physical experience and required an explanation. However, none was ever given al the time, during or after the sittings.

Getting back to my story of events, one day I called at our local chemist’s shop and the lady owner came forward. She looked straight at me and before I could ask her for what I wanted, said, “You ought to use a pendulum.” Then without another word she retreated into her dispensary.

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