One of the most amazing things I have witnessed was in a session led by the English physical medium Stewart Alexander. Not only could I see a hand made of ectoplasm grow from Stewart’s chest, it touched me.
Ectoplasm is a white, cobweb-like substance released by a medium, which is then used by the spirit to assume a physical form. Think of breath on a cold night. Others have described it as a “cheese cloth” and smelling of ozone. Search the internet – there are several wonderful images 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 afternoons are always a pleasure, and one of his controls is a spirit named Walter, who was Canadian, one of my compatriots. I met the lovely Walter in a previous session, and was delighted to find another Canuck on the other side of the pond.
At Cober Hill, none of the approximately 60 people who attended were disappointed. Trumpets danced across the ceiling and the spirit made itself known through sounds and other phenomena. But the highlight of the evening was when Walter called for “Carolyn, ma’am” and two other members of the audience to come over and sit with Stewart around a small table in front of the “cabinet” – a small, square area with black curtains. from which Stewart conducts 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 silently in the dark, a thick, concentrated mist seemed to seep from Stewart’s solar plexus area. Oh my god, I thought, staring as the bright haze slowly coalesced into a webbed-fingered hand and then into a full hand, right before my eyes!
There were shouts of surprise from those sitting nearby. I had heard stories about ectoplasmic manifestations: My grandmother was the hairdresser for former Prime Minister McKenzie King’s psychic, and she often complained about how difficult it was to clean ectoplasm from dining room chair cushions 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 tapped 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 scared and apprehensive, being “touched” by this spiritual presence. It was so … otherworldly, it’s the best way I can put it. The “skin” was warm, warmer than my own hand. Then a warm sensation flowed up my arm to my heart. I felt dizzy, happy. I started to cry. I resisted the urge to grip the hand more firmly.
Slowly, the hand began to withdraw toward Stewart’s abdomen; I was sorry that he left. One of Stewart’s assistants helped me back to my seat and the session continued. Walter retired to the cabinet and the remainder of the evening was spent connecting some members of the audience with their loved ones who had crossed over.
He was groggy and, later, too excited to sleep. The experience had been profound … and a bit sad, when I realized that physical mediumship is an art that disappears. So few mediums seem to practice it these days. Stewart is beginning to regress in his appearances, and that will be an embarrassment to those of us who have come to know him not only as one of the most respectable physical trance mediums, but as a good and honest soul, and a true person. friend.
