It wasn’t until 1984 that I discovered automatic writing. I’m not sure I even knew that there was a term for it when it happened to me. For a short time, I owned an Ouija board. Although I could feel some force moving my left hand around the board, it never would make any sensible spellings of words. I was just about to give up for all time when this sudden electric current went up my fingers to my shoulder. It wasn’t painful, but it was quite strong. I was holding a pen in that right hand, and I felt an invisible force move that hand over to the pad of paper I had laying in readiness nearby. It began to write in an unfamiliar cursive hand-writing. I always printed myself. It identified itself with a first name. It also gave me a last name only because I insisted upon one. (I prefer to keep his real name private; however, I sometimes called him my muse since that was the function that he often served in my life.)Later, I read a number of books that referred to this practice of automatic writing. I learned to always check that the spirit guide that I was channeling was from the light; in other words, that the spirit guide was of God. I certainly did not want to play with the darkness. So whenever I would begin, I would ask first, “Are you my muse?” If he said yes, then next I would ask, “Are you of the light?” And only if he answered yes to both questions would I proceed. I took great comfort in the knowledge that a spirit could not claim to be of the light if it was not.

Occasionally, I would have other spirit guides write through me, but my main comfort and guide was this particular guide. In 1988, I got my first computer. Since writing long-hand is rather tedious, I asked my muse if he could please type or keyboard through me instead. He soon learned; and thus, I have been automatic typing him ever since. I never ask my spirit guide futuristic crystal ball-type questions. Those from the other side have no concept of time since linear time is a human construct. But my spirit guide was great to explain people’s motives and present and past events to me. Also, I learned he had quite a talent for writing. Eventually, his main function in my life was as my muse. He would write at least a part of many of the stories that I use in my storytelling performances. Usually, I would get so into the story idea that I would soon take over the writing of the story myself. He didn’t mind. He would just retire and be on hand should I ever get stuck for an idea. The advantage of having a mentor like that is never having to worry about getting writer’s block.

In 1992, I decided to allow my muse to write a performance story from beginning to end, without any interruptions or interference from me. In the next few days, I decided to try out this metaphorical parable called “Two Wishes For Brian” on a small group of fourth-grade and fifth-grade Girl Scouts.

Directly afterwards, one girl began to sob. I was quite alarmed! Her grandmother, the nurse of the camp, came and asked me to relate the details of the story. Apologizing like crazy, I did. It turned out that this girl had truly experienced an exact parallel of this story. But where my story ended happily, her father was still in the penitentiary. Additionally, he had no interest in making amends for his past abuse of her mother and his neglect of this girl and her siblings. It seems this girl had never talked about her feelings on this subject. Two hours later, this girl was laughing. She was almost glowing from all the love and support she got from the Girl Scout leaders, her grandmother, and the other girls. So that story was a catalyst for this girl to get therapeutic-type healing. I have not felt impelled to tell or share this story since … until now. See the PDF attachment of the tale. May it bring you a feeling of great love, forgiveness, and peace.