Road of Many Ways (1)

From “Road of Many Ways” through a South African trance medium.

IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN SAID that to every story there is a beginning, a middle and an end. But how, and where, does one begin a story that has neither beginning nor end, and no middle, a story that is endless, timeless? All that can be said of it is that it is.

My name is John and it has been my pleasure, since moving into the world in which 1 now live, to visit from time to time amongst my friends still upon the Earth, to speak, to comfort, to discuss with them so many things. And now the time has come to talk to a much wider circle of friends.

You ask, ‘What manner of person is this?’ and ‘Where does he come from?’ All people ask these questions. I know. When I lived upon the Earth, I too wondered what lay beyond. Was there something ‘out there’? What was ‘reality’ and what was ‘fantasy’? Where did the one begin and the other end?

Most people experience uncertainty and doubt no matter what they may have seen or heard. It is a portion of the price of free will — freedom of thought and freedom of action — and, during the process of individual thinking, one can so easily lose the way because there is only self, one small mind.

All the great teachers, throughout the ages, have told us: ‘Love one another,’ is the first lesson: ‘I and my Father are one,’ is the second. And, if every man is truly your brother, then your mind cannot be entirely alone.

These are fine words, platitudes you may think, and to many quite meaningless because they have never delved deeply into the well of life. I was such a one. I wondered and pondered but did not know. Then, one day I found out that there was not only a ‘life hereafter’ but continuous life - a life that will never cease, life that goes on forever.

JOHN: … Death, the fear of all, the wish of some, the relief of many, is the end of none – it is but a transition from one plane of existence to another.

This is a story of one man’s transition – the story of Bradshaw.

I greet you. I will use the name Bradshaw, for that is enough. Those who know me will, if they read these pages, recognise me. For those who do not know me it does not matter.

My life on Earth was a good one - I don’t mean in terms of my being a good person for I was as good or as bad as the next man - but in terms of what it gave to me. I started work very young, in the family business. We lost that during the depression years. Things were not any better for us than they were for a lot of other people at the time. I was barely on my feet when the war came. I married. Went off to war. Did nothing distinguished. Just did a job. When it was over I came back again, settled down, got my nose down to work, and in time built up a good business. I was lucky. I had the breaks. A loving wife and two lovely children. Things were going very well for me then.

I’d always been interested in psychic subjects, but particularly since the war years when one of my comrades-in-arms, who had been very much involved with that sort of thing before the war, had
spoken to me quite a lot about it on those lonely nights in the desert campaign. Times when men could sit and talk, and could almost forget about the war that was going on around them. Through Derek I’d learned how little I had really known before. Admittedly, I had started off as most people do, by finding it rather amusing. Almost, but not quite, laughing. But Derek was so sincere, so darn sincere that one had to take him more than a little seriously. And during those years after the war he introduced me to what is known as ‘Spiritualism.’

Well, I studied all the usual books which were around at the time. One book that impressed me quite a bit was On the Edge of the Etheric which I used as, shall I say, my foundation. In fact, I owe the author, Findlay, quite a lot for giving me that grounding, for it has stood me in good stead.

To cut a long story short, the time came when things were going very well indeed. Business was good. My wife and 1 were happy. I was able to take a holiday every now and again - a trip across to the Continent, or up into the north of Scotland which was a favourite haunt of mine, quiet, peaceful, a change from the hurly-burly. The children were doing well at school and were normal, healthy children. I had everything going for me, everything to be pleased about.

Then it started. A vague sort of discomfort at first, not a real pain, but I wasn’t myself. I no longer enjoyed my food. I felt that, possibly, it was ‘nerves’ although things were going well. This in itself was unnerving, even more so than if one was up against it, say, when starting a business.

Eventually Nan talked me into going to see our doctor. He, in turn, sent me on the rounds and ultimately to a specialist. His verdict was not good at all. Cancer. Inoperable, he said, and I was given about four months in which to put my affairs in order. With all the knowledge I had gained over the years it was still a dreadful blow - but there it was. I knew my time was coming, and very shortly too, and I could hardly believe it.

What of Nan? What of the children? What was going to happen to them? Without me there, what would it be like? How was the business going to continue?

Well, first things first. Get rid of the business. Get the best possible price. Nan couldn’t hope to run it. It was all I could do. There was insurance of course and other bits and pieces we’d laid aside. We had a little cottage outside London and that could be sold. It would be something extra for Nan, but maybe she’d like to keep it. All these things were going through my mind.

Then Derek came to see me. As soon as I saw him I began to think back to those old days, back in the desert. We sat and talked about ‘spirit healing’. Yes, I thought, there was still that. It was a ray of hope, only to be clashed a fortnight later.

The guides of the healer to whom I went said, “No, there is nothing we can do here. Make your peace, and know that we will be with you when the time comes. It will be easy.” Easy, I thought. Easy to leave your wife and so spoil a marriage which, through all its knocks, had been one of building, it was bad enough that I was selling out what had virtually been my life’s work.

Nan had married me early in the war years, as I’ve already said, and had stood by me even though she hadn’t seen me for four long years which she had gone through all alone. She had spent the war in London with a young baby, her husband far away, neither ever knowing whether the other were still alive or what was happening.

Now I was to leave it all. No, I was going to fight this thing. I wasn’t going to let it get me. Fight it I would, and fight it I did. By sheer willpower I managed to hold on for ten whole months. My body faded away to almost nothing and in the end I was bedridden. I couldn’t move, barely aware of what was going on around me most of the time. But Nan, what a tower of strength. She stood by me, as always. Nothing was too much trouble.

I didn’t get rid of the business. She moved in and, even though she was spending so much time with me and the children, she was showing a grasp of what was necessary. It was going very well. It was a ray - more than a ray - of hope. It gave me a great deal of peace. The end was very near now. I could feel it. The vital life-force was leaving my body.

Then, one Friday afternoon, lying there in a hospital bed, I looked up to see Nan smiling down at me. I said to her, “Nan, the time is almost here. I’m shortly going to leave you. In the years to come, do always what you feel is the best. I won’t mind what it is, but will back you to the hilt if I can.” She gently scolded me. “Why do you say, ‘If I can’? You know you can. You’ve read and you’ve heard. You’ve been convinced of the life that lies beyond all this.”

Yes, she was right, I did know. I was convinced. But in those months of lingering on with this thing working its way inside my body I had known moments of deep doubt and depression. And yet, in spite of this, I knew. Nan left.

I woke up from a good sleep some hours later. It was night. There beside the bed were two people: one I knew - my father - but the other I did not recognise until he spoke. Then I remembered him as a very dear friend who had talked many times while I’d been attending séances at a friend’s house. He’d often said to me, laughingly, “One of these days, when your turn comes, I’ll be waiting there to meet you.”

I looked at him. “Is it now? Have you come for me now?” “No. Not yet. But we wanted you to know that
we are here, that we are waiting, that you have nothing to fear. Now, look in front of you. What do you see?” I turned my head. There in front of me was a wonderful scene, a wide valley with gently sloping hills on either side.

Beautiful, green, shimmering. I described what I saw, and they said to me, “Yes, when we come for you it is to such a place we shall be going. Keep it in your mind, remember it well, for shortly you will travel there with us.” I fell again into a deep sleep, the best I’d had for many a long day.

The following day - morning or afternoon, I don’t know Nan was there and she was so sad. I smiled at her, or tried to, and she saw it. She spoke to me. Her voice seemed to be coming from far away. “They sent for me darling.”

“Yes, Nan, they have been to me, too. They’ve shown me what lies beyond this. I’vehad a glimpse. They’re coming for me now. It’s almost time to go.” Then everything started to fade. The last thing I saw was Nan’s face, sad but brave. Then it was gone.

I felt a touch, no more: a gentle touch on my forehead. Then I was standing on that slope above the valley, with my father and my friend, one on either side, supporting me. I wanted to look back but they led me gently away saying, No, don’t look back, for that is the past. Look forward across the valley, for that is where you are going and we are going with you. The other is all behind you now. You are tired; just close your eyes, relax, sleep.” I felt myself, without any effort of will, drifting into a peaceful, pain-free sleep.

How they transported me I know not, but I awoke later. I say ‘later’ for that is all that one can say. One event followed after another, but here I soon discovered there was no time. 1 slept and woke again. There, once more, were my friend, my father, yet another friend, and other people, some of whom I hadn’t thought of for years.

“Welcome home, welcome home. Come, lazybones, get up.“ "Now,” they said, “you’re ready to come home with us, but first you should see yourself.” They led me to a mirror and said, “Now look.” What a transformation! I looked and felt so brimful of energy, so alive, so vital.

They led me to the door and on to a verandah. The view before me extended way back, back across that same valley, seemingly endless, full of beauty.

“Look for the last time. Now, turn around and look to the future.”

And the happy company led me home.

Hi Z thank you that is a book I have been hunting down for ever the only available second hand copy someone beat me to buy. The second book of what should have been a trilogy is available there are several copies about.

So far I had two fragments you have now added to my store thanks.

Admin wrote:Hi Z thank you that is a book I have been hunting down for ever the only available second hand copy someone beat me to buy. The second book of what should have been a triolgy is available there are several copies about.

So far I had two fragments you have now added to my store thanks.

To the best of my knowledge the trilogy was never completed.

You are right I think Z I have been unable to track any reference to it. Have you seen the second book?

I got my hands on this book recently I can post some chapters from it soon if the forum is interested.

I would love to see that Mark many thanks. Well done I have hunted a while for this with no luck.

Admin wrote:I would love to see that Mark many thanks. Well done I have hunted a while for this with no luck.

You will need to give me time as I will need to write it myself Jim I am not familiar with the scanning technology etc, although I must add I have posted threads before and deleted as I got slightly disheartening when others didn't respond to topics I felt important.

".......although I must add I have posted threads before and deleted as I got slightly disheartening when others didn't respond to topics I felt important."



If I had deleted all the threads (here and elsewhere) that I'd hoped would attract attention - but then didn't - I'd be forever at it!

It's the nature of forum work - win some, lose most!

I know Mac, at times I post something on her that gets me really excited and it just goes straight through to the keeper, no response.

What a wonderful read. Many thanks for posting. I shall have to track that book down. I did manage to find another excerpt from this book:

IT WAS DURING the Second World War, south of Imphal. The Japanese were advancing. The town was under heavy attack and, some miles away, we stood athwart the enemy line of advance. It was a very short, sharp engagement. I went ahead to my so-called forward platoon consisting of about a section-and-a-half - some fourteen men (all who had survived). As I spoke with the sergeant in command, the Japanese launched their attack with a mortar barrage and I was caught in the open.

It was all over very quickly. I lay on the ground. The sounds of battle had died away. It had moved on. I wondered how long I had been lying unconscious and then, as I lay there, I realised that it wouldn't be long before the Japs arrived. Wounded as I was they would make pretty short work of me. It wasn't a pleasant thought but it led my mind away from the immediate prospect of death to the memory of a little pamphlet which I had read somewhere, one put out by an organisation in Britain. Funnily enough, it had stuck in my mind. It was headed, 'What to do in case of Sudden Death,' and had been published by a group of Spiritualists. I remember I had been mildly amused by it at the time: now I wished I had read it. Maybe there was something in it after all.

Then I looked up. A Jap was standing there watching me, looking down at me, and I remembered thinking, "This is it. Here it comes." But nothing happened. I looked up into quizzical eyes. Those eyes were laughing, yet not maliciously.

"What are you doing lying there?" he said in English.

"That's a ridiculous question," I replied.

"Is it ?"

"Yes. I can't move and I can't feel much. I think my spine is smashed."

"Try moving a leg. Go on, try."

There was something about this situation that I couldn't put my finger on. Here was a Jap, an enemy, in the midst of a field of battle telling me to move a leg, and me with a hole in my back that seemed large enough, in my imagination, to put a couple of fists through. But there was something reassuring about him, in what he said and the way he said it. So I tried. My leg moved. No pain

"Now try the other one," he said.

It moved. Again no pain.

"Now try standing up."

Well, this was quite shattering, but I tried, and I stood up ! I can't describe that feeling. Having lain there in fear and terror - then suddenly to stand up and feel totally whole and well. It was incredible.

"What's happened?", I asked hesitantly.

He smiled again and raised an eyebrow. "You really should have read that pamphlet, you know. It would have helped you immeasurably."

You mean . . . you mean I've had it?"

"Yes," he said, "you've had it. And I've had it. Not only have you had it, but you've had the war too. That lies behind you even as your body lies behind you now."

I looked back. Another shock. On the ground behind me lay my shrapnel-shattered body.

"But when . . . when did I die? Was it the moment I saw you?"

"Die?" he said. "You didn't die, you merely laid aside a body which was of no further use to you. Nobody dies. A body becomes useless and is cast aside like an old suit of clothes.Yes, sometimes cast aside lovingly if it has served well; at other times regretfully because it has served too well; and at other times lightly because one has suffered too much. But no, I know what you mean. The moment you cease to live within the confines of that body, the moment the body ceases to be your suit of clothes, at that moment you die." Then he said, "Do you remember that there was much pain, that the barrage continued and then the battle passed over you?"

"Yes."

"And there was a moment of unconsciousness? A brief moment? Then you opened your eyes again. The sounds of battle had faded away. Had moved on, you thought. But it was not the battle that had moved on, for it still rages. It was you who had moved on and away from it. I have been standing here waiting for you to realise that something was different, waiting until it was time to come forward and speak to you. When the realisation came to you that something had happened - that death, if it wasn't already there was not far off - then was the time for me to speak with you. But you had already passed out of one world into another, and it is because of this that I came to be here with you."

In all the time in which I have been engaged upon my own particular task - that of meeting newcomers from the battlefields of the world - nothing has ever been quite as wonderful to me as my own arrival.

I have both Road of Many Ways and Pilgrims on the Road by John. These books are very hard to come by. I said before that I would put up chapters from the books, I had been unwell the past few months, I will get around to doing it soon.

Thanks Mark I hope that you are well now. I did track both books once but they were a bit too expensive at the time. Limited print run in South Africa, there was to have been a third volume but it has not appeared in print.

Jim

Hi Drakey there were two other fragments in this thread you may like this one
https://www.spiritualismlink.com/t1999-road-of-many-ways-ken-s-story?

Drakey

Thank you for posting that excerpt, a great read!

Mark74 wrote:

I have both Road of Many Ways and Pilgrims on the Road by John. These books are very hard to come by. I said before that I would put up chapters from the books, I had been unwell the past few months, I will get around to doing it soon.

I can't wait to read more, and I hope your better!

Admin wrote:
Hi Drakey there were two other fragments in this thread you may like this one
https://www.spiritualismlink.com/t1999-road-of-many-ways-ken-s-story?

This was best, keep them coming!

Thanks Jim.