The ectoplasmic hand
One of the most amazing things I have witnessed was in a session led by English physicist Stewart Alexander. Not only did I get to see a hand made of ectoplasm grow from Stewart’s chest, but I was moved.
Ectoplasm is a white, cobweb-like substance that releases a medium, which is then used by the spirit to assume a physical form. Think of breathing on a cold night. Others have described it as “cheesecloth” and smelling like ozone. Search the internet – there are several wonderful pictures of mediums releasing ectoplasm.
At a recent retreat in Cober Hill, England, Stewart demonstrated the art of physical trance mediumship. I was looking forward to Stewart’s session for several reasons: his skillful evenings are always a delight, and one of his controls is a spirit named Walter, who was Canadian, one of my countrymen. I met the lovely Walter at a previous shoot, and he was delighted to meet another Canuck from across the pond.
At Cober Hill, not one of the 60 people who attended was disappointed. Trumpets danced across the ceiling, and the spirit made its presence known through sounds and other phenomena. But the highlight of the evening was when Walter called “Carolyn, ma’am” and two other members of the audience to come forward and sit with Stewart around a small table in front of the “cabinet” – a small square area with black curtains. from where Stewart directs the session. The front curtain can be opened and closed.
Stewart sat inside the cabinet, but his hands joined ours to form a circle on the table, which was lit from below by a soft red light. As we sat quietly in the dark, a thick, concentrated fog seemed to escape from Stewart’s solar plexus area. Oh my God, I thought, staring as the glowing mist slowly coalesced into a hand with webbed fingers and then a full hand, right before my eyes!
There were gasps of surprise from those sitting nearby. I heard stories about ectoplasmic manifestations: my grandmother was the hairdresser for former Prime Minister McKenzie King’s psychic and often complained about how difficult it was to clean the ectoplasm from the cushions of the dining room chairs after a session.
“Hold still, ma’am,” Walter said through Stewart, as this large, well-defined ectoplasmic hand crawled across the dimly lit table and gently patted the top of my hand. “Not bad for a man who passed away a hundred years ago, huh?” Walter joked.
I felt dizzy, a little fearful and apprehensive, being “touched” by this spiritual presence. It was so… otherworldly, is the best way I can put it. The “skin” was hot, hotter than my own hand. Then a feeling of warmth went up my arm to my heart. I felt dizzy, happy. I started to cry. I resisted the urge to grab her hand more firmly.
Slowly, the hand began to withdraw toward Stewart’s abdomen; I was sorry to see you go. One of Stewart’s assistants helped me back to my seat and the session continued. Walter retired to the cabinet and spent the rest of the evening connecting some members of the audience with their loved ones who had crossed over.
He was in a daze and, later, too excited to sleep. The experience had been profound… and a bit sad, as I realized that physical mediumship is an art that disappears. Very few mediums seem to be practicing it these days. Stewart is beginning to recede in his appearances, and that will be a shame for those of us who have come to know him not only as one of the most reputable physical trance mediums, but as a good and honest soul, and a true friend.