I told this story on the blog nearly three years ago, but I’ve been inspired to tell is again.

From that blog:

When I was very young I got the Measles. I had a raging fever for a number of days and the doctors were quite worried about me. My Dad did nightshift work at the time so my mum brought me in to sleep with her so she could keep a closer eye on me. Even though I had a raging temperature and was extremely sick, 44 years on I can still remember it as if it was yesterday. It was Summer and on that very week roadworks were set up right outside our house. Each morning at about 9am the pneumatic drill would start up and as it was so warm, and I had a fever, the windows were all open. The drill was outside our house but it felt like it was inside my head. It sounded so loud. I was sweating, delirious, and this didn’t help at all. The workmen could do nothing about it really. They couldn’t stop their work because of a sick child.

The Doctor came regularly. Doctor Mather was his name. I still remember the sound of the door ringing, and his jovial voice saying hello to my Mum, then footsteps on the stairs and there he was asking how I was feeling today. That went on for quite some time.

Then one night something happened.

My Mum remembers it well too. She was asleep and felt that I wasn’t laying down in bed. She looked over at me and I was sitting bolt upright, staring at the end of the bed.

“Lie down David, get some sleep,” she said.

“Can’t you see him Mum?” I replied.

My Mum looked in the direction I was staring. Nothing there other than the darkness of night. Shadows, The house silent.

“See what? There’s nothing there. Come on lie down.”

“There is Mum. Look. Standing at the end of the bed. Who is that?” I asked.

My Mum was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable but asked, “What does he look like?”

I looked on into the dark. “He’s tall. He’s got a hat. His hands are together. His eyes are closed and he’s praying.”

I was smiling. I remember that I wasn’t scared at all. It felt completely normal. I just laid back down and went to sleep. My Mum had more trouble relaxing that night.

I obviously recovered from the measles. It was a horrible experience and not one I would wish on any child, but that moment stayed with me. Was I hallucinating? I guess I certainly could have been. I had a temperature of 106 at points during that illness. But years later when our family went on our first overseas holiday to Canada something else happened.

We went to see Ottawa Cathedral and while we were there my parents lost me. One moment I was there, the next I was nowhere to be seen. They split up and began to search for me. I have to say that I remember most of that holiday, but none of what happened while I was lost. My parents tell me that they found me standing and staring up at one of the huge stained glass windows. I was totally still, almost in a trance state. It took a while for me to notice that they were with me, calling my name. apparently I just looked at my Mum, pointed at the window, and said, “That’s him. That’s who was standing at the bottom of the bed.” It was four years later and I was now ten years old. As I say I don’t remember this at all and I’ve sometimes looked on the internet to try to find that window, to find that figure, but of course there are loads of them, and maybe that isn’t meant to be.

Did I see my Guardian Angel? I’ve felt him at other times during my life. The day my eldest son was born and we nearly lost him was one time. There have been others. It’s easy to dismiss our experiences while we are ill and have a fever. But like the experiences of Ayahuasca, a drug that many view as a doorway to Spirit, and the other psychedelics that Shamans use around thew world, can we really be sure that these altered states are simply tricks of the mind or do they allow us to see what is always there around us, like Ultra Violet and other colours our eyes cannot see?

About 12 or so years ago I found comfort in a series of books written by Neale Donald Walsch. They were called Conversations with God and were exactly what I needed to read at that time in my life. One morning he woke up and was compelled to get out of bed, grab a yellow pad of note paper, and begin to write down this inner dialogue he was having. The Other voice, it said, was God. It might seem strange for a Pagan to enjoy such books but, to be honest, I’m open to ideas and wisdom from anywhere – no closed doors here. The books contain some wonderful insights and, as I say, they helped me through a very hard part of my life. He wrote the fourth book in the series last year, after a break of ten years, and I started reading it last night.

What have these books got to do with that experience I had with Measles. I keep coming back to this Guardian Angel. The Inner Voice. I know, say Angel to some Pagans and they will run a mile screaming. Too much fluffy nonsense laid down by New Age Gurus in the 80s and 90s have rather marred the term, but it has a deep connection to Magic. Hardcore Magic. There is a Grimoire The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abra Melin the Mage, a long and in depth ceremony, the aim of which is direct contact with the Holy Guardian Angel. From memory I believe that book led Uncle Aleister Crowley to buy a house in the countryside where he planned to dedicate time to conduct the ritual. I seem to remember that he didn’t finish it. When I was a young magician I read the book written by William Bloom called The Sacred Magician, an account of his experiences when he undertook the full ritual from the Grimoire. It’s an amazing read, and nothing like the Doreen Virtue versions of Angels that filled New Age bookshelves. Powerful stuff indeed. I think you can still get copies of the book from eBay.

To me Neale Donald Walsh was talking to that Holy Guardian Angel. When I was deeply ill, and during the trauma of my eldest son’s birth, I feel I connected with mine. The Rite of Abra Melin opens that connection too. I think we all have that Spirit within us. The one that suggests we don’t catch that particular train, walk or drive a different way to work.

I wonder, is it the same Spirit that Gnostics and Consciousness Gurus talk about?

To feel that presence, become aware that you are reading these words on a screen. They are simply marks on a screen that are somehow communicating with you. You understand them because you were taught how to read. You are physically having this experience, but according to Consciousness Awareness experts and Gnostics there is something behind that physical, logical, experience. Your eyes and brain are deciphering the marks into words, but what/who is actually experiencing the understanding of this message. There is the physical you, and then there is the Watcher that is experiencing life. I’ve heard it said that it is the Universe being born into physical presence experiencing itself. It is this presence that is the Unifying Spirit in all things. Apparently.

Yup. That’s what I feel like when I read this stuff.

But I love to ponder these things nonetheless. Held within a body of blood and bone I’m not sure it’s entirely possible to fully understand or comprehend this stuff, but that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. One day, we will know, that’s for sure.

Have you had a connection with what feels like your Guardian Angel?