AUTOMATIC WRITING

I touched briefly before on automatic writing and that I had done some. I'll explain more in depth here how that first came about. It was at least 12 or 13 years ago. It wasn't long after the lottery started whenever that was. The reason I know that is because I was given three numbers for it. Yes, sadly only three.

At that time we lived in another part of the Bay and our house was quite secluded with a garden that was regularly visited by rabbits with their babies, Flash and Harry (2 mice) and pheasants amongst others. It was a lovely garden and the animals never disturbed any plants as they were all fed with appropriate food bought weekly. So, there I was sitting in my usual chair at the window looking out at the garden. It was a Saturday afternoon at about 3pm and as I sat I had a pad on knee and a pen in my hand. It was lottery day and my usual habit was to sit and blank my mind then write the first numbers which came into my mind.

As I sat there this particular day, I started to daydream a little. As I did so, I felt the pen start to move on the paper. I sat up properly, shook myself to alertness and tried to concentrate. As I waited for a number to come into my mind the pen started to move again. This time I questioned it. Why? What was happening? I was sure it wasn't me. The third time it happened I realised that maybe I should see if I could concentrate on that instead and watch what else would happen if I didn't quickly snatch my hand away.

In my head, I placed the thought that if anyone wanted to communicate I was willing to let them. I hasten to add that at this time of my life I thought that was baloney (rubbish). I knew loads of other things happened to me but automatic writing? Please!! I waited and within less than half a minute the pen started to move excrutiatingly slowly on the paper. I held the pen so loosely that it was difficult for anything to happen. I now know that you should hold it properly. Anyway. I got a load of joined up number 8's - or that's what they appeared to be. What is the point of that, I thought. So I asked whoever was there to give me numbers for the lottery that night. I must say that I did this very tongue in cheek because, as I said, I thought it was all a load of rubbish.

I got three numbers. It took about 10 minutes to write them as it was so slow in coming but there they were. I don't know about America, but in England we pick six numbers per line. I usually did two lines and so I wrote the three numbers I had been "given" on one line and added another three of my own. I then did the same thing with line two. Went to the shop, paid my money and thought what a fool I was. I wasn't. Those three numbers came up. At the time (I think it still is) you won £10 for getting 3 numbers correct. I won £20 as I had put them in both lines.

It actually freaked me out a little I have to admit. Although I saw things, knew things and smelled things, this was different. This was like someone else was there and was a little creepy. It took me about a week or more to get up enough courage to try it again. I waited for a quiet afternoon, sat in the same chair in the same way and waited to see what would happen. This time I would be better prepared. Or so I thought. I held the pen and asked if anyone was there. After a short while the pen started its slow move on the paper. My heart was bumping and banging. I asked what their name was and when they had died. Again it moved. Was it me? Oh my God what on earth was I doing. It took positively ages, but a name was written, albeit very shakily and a year.

At this point I had scared myself to death and so I flung the pen and the book on the floor got up paced around the room trying to calm myself. The name was a little confusing at the end because I thought it was double O but the O's didn't look quite right for some reason. I left the room and waited till my husband got home from work. Over dinner, I told him what had happened. When I told him the name I had got he told me there had been a poet by that name. Well, knock me down with a feather. The name was William Cowper. It is pronounced Cooper hence the funny looking letters. I think it had been done that way to show me the pronunciation.

He went to the bookcase and took out the dictionary. Looking up Cowper, he asked what year I had been given - it was 1800. That was only the year he died!!!!!
Oh my goodness I really had the creeps now. That was the start. There is more to this that gets even more incredible. I have said enough for now and it'll get to be too much to read on a screen so I will tell you more about this next time.

Loads of love,

Lorraine