Conversations with the Departed - The Journey of a Psychic Medium

       There’s no brightly lit pink neon sign in my window. Nothing that can be seen as a beacon for the curious from a hundred paces away in the dark of night, through rainy mists and fog. No color is reflected in the ripples of water in the street puddles below.

No images showing a palm, crystal ball, or the words “Tarot”, “Fortune Teller”, or “Psychic Readings” … No multi-colored plastic beaded curtain, or black velvet drapes accessing a backroom within a brick-and-mortar shop selling crystals, incense, books, aura photographs, or bundles of sage for smudging purposes.

   I keep a low profile and don’t advertise. Those who are meant to meet up with me seem to find their way. Guided, if you will. Perhaps led by spirit. Often it is through word of mouth. Former clients send their contacts to me by scrawling my number on a piece of paper, gently folding it, then forcibly placing it into their hands – much like a discreet handshake with giving a tip to a maître d. Under their breath, they whisper, “Go!” “You really need to see her” … “She’s the real deal.”

  Appointments for some clients seem secretive as if they were going underground for a covert, black market service I was offering. Some first-timers are nervous and would prefer their spouses or families be kept in the dark when they see me. They fear judgement or ridicule. But most of all, they need to conceal their inner pain from those closest to them.

  Scheduled meet-ups happen both in person and through the wonders of technology. From surrounding towns and cities to exotic locations around the world– the UK, France, Italy, South Africa, New Zealand, Singapore… Clients are blue-collar workers, doctors, lawyers, and professionals from all walks of life. Men and women, all reaching out to me and having one thing in common – the loss of someone they loved and a curiosity about what lies ahead after the physical body is no more.

        I am a psychic medium. I live in a world where the spirits of the deceased and the living walk side by side and coexist. I refer to “spirit” as the energy and essence of the departed's soul. I won't use the term “ghost” as it often brings to mind a dark, negative connotation... the spectres, entities or apparitions that moan and carry heavy iron chains – imposed as punishment for bad deeds carried out on Earth. They are believed to float through walls, appear in mirrors, are vengeful or cause physical Poltergeist-like disturbances. Those energies are not part of my reality. I'll leave all that for those carrying out supernatural phenomena studies.

 My work does not involve “ghost hunting”, paranormal investigations in haunted houses, or solving crimes. I don’t use ghost boxes, Ouija Boards, infrared thermometers, or EMF sensors. I am not involved in seances, table tipping, or ectoplasm. There is no sorcery or magic involved. No telling you there’s a curse on your head and you need to grease my palm to remove it.

  I see myself simply as an intermediary that bridges this world and the next. An ordinary person with a gift bestowed upon me. One who aims to provide evidential information that a physical death is not the ending for a soul. By connecting to a higher frequency, details come forth that show how the deceased still see, hear, and are connected to us on the Earth plane because of the love and attachments that still exist. A physical body dies, not the love for the soul who inhabited it.

    My first experience with spirit, and other worldly energies came when I was a young woman. I was shown a vision. A grand, magnificent, technicolor-type, panoramic view spread out in front of me resembling a movie screen projection. There, in broad daylight from the comfort of my home, I stared at the image before me in disbelief at what I was observing. This was no daydream or television broadcast, but an encounter of spiritual or cosmic proportions that foretold my future after a heartbreaking relationship came to an end. Feeling devastated when plans for the husband, 2.5 children, a dog, and the white picket fence were dashed, I was given an elaborate gift with a glimpse of what was to come. This insight was a sign of what my life was to be and within it, an unfamiliar geographical location shown in incredible detail.

  I felt connected to every blade of grass, could smell each wildflower's particular aromatic scent and experienced an art pallet of colors I had never known or could put descriptive words to. I was one with the natural scenic beauty. Mountainous, snowcapped peaks appeared so vividly in the distance making me want to inhale the crisp, clean air and fill my lungs as if to cleanse and purify them. Simultaneously, I heard a voice that told me the name of this place and specific personal information that I needed to hear at that moment (a message regarding the heartbreak I was feeling and where things would be going next). As suddenly as it appeared, it vanished without a trace leaving me highly emotional.

Thoughts began swirling around in my head trying to piece this together and understand what I had been shown. While I took this vision seriously, never doubting that it happened, the message seemed so improbable that it was almost laughable. Here I was, in my twenties, working three jobs, trying to scrape enough money together to pay my bills and keep a roof over my head… hardly enough cash to fill up my gas tank to drive across town. Yet, I was being told I would be headed to a remote part of the world as part of my life path moving forward. I remember every detail of this profound spiritual experience with such clarity, but at the time I didn’t understand why or how it came about. I wasn’t dreaming and knew ordinary people – like me, weren’t given messages out of the blue. I was no Joan of Arc. So why me? 

   I went on with my life, keeping this prophecy to myself. A secret. I couldn’t explain what happened and knew I would sound stark raving mad if I tried. While curious as to how things might play out, I didn’t throw my weight in any one direction. As the years ticked by, synchronicities started occurring more frequently which brought this prediction closer and made it my reality. Some may suggest a seed was planted and subconsciously I leaned into that direction. But honestly, there was no way I could have planned the twists and turns, and outcome that awaited me. 

    The destination given to me in my vision was the Himalayas, and my being there happened in a roundabout way I could not have anticipated or planned. When the vision was realized, not only did I find myself standing in the exact spot that I was originally shown in all its spectacular breathtaking beauty, but I found a career path from that very visit that I would then follow – one of hospice caregiving and working with the actively dying and the grieving. I was also reunited with my soulmate because of that journey. The very same relationship that brought heartache so long ago, was brought back to me through divine timing – and again, through what I can only describe as a crazy “otherworldly” intervention. I now understand the meaning of that vision. I needed to experience all that life brought me during the years apart from my soulmate. The highs and lows filled with wonder and challenges, the planned and unexpected, the obstacles and opportunities... that are part of the soul’s journey in this human existence. Only when this was allowed to unfold would we be brought back together to fulfil our soul contracts. My hospice work was part of that, as years later I found myself his caregiver and at his bedside as he died. It’s funny how life has revealed itself to me in all its glory. Every aspect was a puzzle piece that fit together making me whole.

   Maybe it was a rare planetary alignment or the universe conspiring to give me what I needed…either way, this was proof for me that fate and destiny were real.

Once my vision was realized, my mediumship abilities kicked into high gear. I saw, heard, felt, and sensed spirit. I am shown images, hear dialogue, and feel sensations in my body that relate to pain, health issues or how a person passed away. I have a personal and intimate relationship with death. Intrinsically linked. A bridge between the living and dying.

   Did my vision come from a loved one who had passed away? Spirit guides? An angel? God or a “divine source”? I can't answer that. Far from being frightening, it was a calming and soothing message from a place of love, guidance and healing. I was not religious in any way, nor did the experience convert me. I respected beliefs around the world but was not a follower of any one faith. My guiding principles were ones of compassion, empathy and kindness. Humanity is, and always has been, my religion.

For years, I held myself back from speaking out loud about my experiences and possibly being labelled as crazy, mentally ill, accused of taking psychedelics, being called a fraud, or lying... Why would I want to open myself up to being criticized, abused, or laughed at by sceptics? I can only imagine how agonizing it must be for those who are brought back to life after flatlining and having had an NDE (Near Death Experience). Having gone through the tunnel of light, being greeted by their deceased loved ones on the other side and not feeling safe to share stories of the experience.

           Worse yet was the fear of being called a “devil worshipper”, an all-too-common label for those who “speak to the dead”, speak of prophecies or spiritual matters. Sadly, anything that doesn’t fit into some people’s tiny worldviews can be deemed as wrong. Many live, abide and are controlled by the religious dogma they were raised in, never questioning it, or revolting against it. A few, who found out I was doing mediumship readings, felt compelled to give me a lecture. A holy tirade with inferences of burning in hell with zero understanding of my work. This was accompanied by making the sign of the cross with their fingers extended at arm’s length as if they were fending off a vampire with a crucifix. I was never sure if they expected me to slowly step back away in horror, or spontaneously combust on the spot. Neither would happen of course. This was my first, and sadly – not the last, exposure to ignorance and hypocrisy. Given the countless false preconceived ideas and stereotypes about mediumship and spirituality, I’ve always been convinced I have more to fear from the living than the dead. 

 I felt drawn to provide readings as I know how healing they can be. How different might your life be if you knew your deceased spouse, child, parent, grandparent, sibling, or friend were able to hear you talk to them- and they could respond? What if you received specific information that let you know they could see a birth, a wedding, graduation, or job promotion and were there celebrating with you? That a loved one was holding a child lost through a miscarriage? That a beloved pet was with family on the other side? Would it alter your perception of the afterlife? Would it change your fear or understanding of death? How might it transform your grief? And how would it improve your life in the here and now and going forward?

Those who are at the bedside with the dying will recognize that in the end stages, the actively dying will often reach towards the ceiling with a smile that would light up a room. They see, speak and laugh with loved ones who have passed before them, claiming they are in the room with them. The caregivers/family around them don't witness anything, but when you see and feel the immense joy, you recognize it is a calming, reassuring otherworldly vision.

  I may not be able to tell you where Grandpa Joe kept his notebook of internet passwords, but if he tells me he knows you bought a white sofa last week and you verify that with a resounding “yes” … that’s comforting in a simple, but meaningful way. I have no way of knowing such details for the clients sitting before me. These aren't superpowers. Nor can I explain the mysteries of life- or death. I would be foolish to claim I know these things. My understanding is that our loved ones are here beside us, and the best way for me to convey that belief is to offer up information that I would have no possible way of knowing with readings that bring tears of joy, laughter, peace and maybe closure too. These are the messages that bring a deeper appreciation for life. They allow us to cherish and hold on to the memories of those who are integral parts of our story, bringing meaning to our existence.

  We all possess the powers of intuition and know how “gut feelings” are often something to be listened to. It is no different picking up on the signs from across the veil. By being focused, trusting, and believing, we can speak to our loved ones, ask for a specific sign to be brought into our awareness, and be open to receiving it.

  Signs may come in the form of visitation dreams, electronics coming on randomly, a radio station changing channels on its own and a meaningful song belting out of the speakers, and lights blinking wildly,… Feathers floating out of nowhere, coins with specific dates appearing at your feet, or animals (butterflies, dragonflies, cardinals..., etc.) coming into your space unexpectedly and repeatedly. Possessions being moved or dropped so that you will notice them. Images recorded and photographed showing spectacular orbs of light… Sensations of being lightly touched on the cheek, or on the crown of the head as if walking through a delicate silk cobweb. Our loved ones bring healing, peace, joy, laughter, but most of all a continued connection of love that goes beyond this lifetime.

 It is said in Mexican culture there are three deaths. The first is the death of the physical body. The second is the burial of the body. The third is when no one speaks our name. By holding onto memories and love, we will always be connected with ethereal souls. They walk beside us day by day – bringing pure love, comfort, and joy in the most beautiful and unexpected ways.