Meditation, Puzzles, and an Orange Scarf

It’s been a while, and boy! Do I have a lots of gaps to fill in!  My adventures have taken me to a one day medium class in Houston, I did some automatic writing, and I’ve had some contacts with Spirit since the last update, so I’ve got a few little stories to tell. No one thing as earth-shaking as what started this whole journey, which is probably why I haven’t felt compelled to share just yet.  Things have changed; Spirit no longer breaks down my proverbial brain door to get my attention. I’m having to learn to listen (but not ALWAYS because then I’m “like an FM antenna that only picks up static” as they put it. Sigh- I’ve got a long way to go.) BUT- today was different. I heard from Spirit, and it was amazing, but not profound, and it was extremely satisfying because of that. It was the first time I was able to deliver a message without becoming too emotionally involved, or stressing out about the information being wrong. It was like I’m finally finding my footing.  So,  I’m gonna begin with today (although I’m committing myself to telling my other stories next! They are pretty neat. )

Last week, a friend of mine, Samantha, had a chair she was giving away. I was the first on Facebook to claim it (Yay!) and today was the day I was to go pick it up from her house. Since I had quite a bit of time to spare before I was headed over,  I decided to sit down for some much needed meditation.

(Real quick, I still haven’t been meditating quite like I should. Lots of silly excuses that I’m REALLY trying to stop using, especially since pretty much EVERY time I meditate, something cool happens. Again, more about this in the next post…)

I hadn’t been meditating for too long when I have a vision of a woman, with this luxurious flowing hair, quickly running/floating over to another woman and affectionately tying an orange scarf with silver stars around her neck. Then, as quickly as she came in, she went out.  It was like a playful game of duck-duck goose but instead of tapping someones head, you put a scarf on them.  Does that help the visual? :/   It was then that I had the knowledge that the woman receiving the scarf was my friend, Samantha.

(I need to add here that while I am friendly with Samantha, I do not know her very well. I want to clarify this because there’s that whole “reading for your friends and family” thing. If you know too much about them, then it’s really hard to know whether the info you are receiving is actually from Spirit or not. That, of course, applies to both the medium AND the recipient of the info.   Messages from spirit are so much like our own thoughts that sometimes its very hard to discern between the two- so if it’s information that you already know- how could you be sure it wasn’t coming from within rather than an external source? Now apply that to the recipient; Even if the medium was sure the info was coming from Spirit- the recipient is much more likely to be skeptical if it’s something the medium (might have) already known.)

So, apparently Spirit was aware I would be heading to Samantha’s house soon, aaaand… I realized, “someone wants to say hi.” 🙂 Alrighty then!  I refocus, and now see a quick vision of a farmhouse. Then… a gun.  WHOA. It’s not the full gun, though; it’s like a closeup of where someone is loading it and cocking it.    I watched this for a couple of seconds and wondered why this person would be showing me this. And then I get a VERY quick vision of a horse. And THEN this flowing hair woman flies past me at top speed, diagonally from deep left and then past my right shoulder- and her mouth is open wide in terror, as if she is running away from something terrible.

Here’s where the puzzle stuff comes in. I know I’ve talked about this in past blog posts, but just to reiterate the initial messages from Spirit are usually like a skeletal outline and you then need to piece it together.  And THAT usually happens when you can give the info to the recipient and they can confirm if it’s correct. (Hopefully, anyway 🙂 Part of the job as a medium, though, is to try to interpret messages FOR the recipient.  For example, let’s say the medium gets a symbol of a red rose. Well, a red rose to that particular medium might mean, “being in love.” So while the medium SEES a red rose, the message to the recipient might just be about love, never mentioning the red rose.   So now that we’ve clarified that….back to the gun. I tried to put two and two together and assumed this woman had shot her horse and was really sad about it.  Uhhh, that makes sense, right?

After my amazing medium detective work, I asked this spirit, whomever it was, how they were related to Samantha.  “Cousin” popped into my head after a few seconds… but it was… I don’t know… faint? I wasn’t sure if I was making things up. As if to answer my doubt, “cousin” is repeated again, but then I hear, unmistakably, “UNCLE. AFFAIR.”

Well OK then.

3:45 rolled around and I headed to Samantha’s house.  I couldn’t remember if her and I had discussed this whole medium thing before, so after the initial “hellos” I said, “So I did some meditating today… we’ve talked about my thing I’ve got going on, right?”

“… what thing?” Samantha asks.

“the ghost thing,” I reply.

“Oh yes!”

“Whew! OK. Well, as I was meditating today, I saw a woman with long, flowy, beautiful hair run up to you and put a beautiful orange scarf around your neck.”

Samantha got still and her eyes opened wide. “She wasnt trying to strangle me was she?!”

“No no no!”  ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION! Ha! I went on and told her exactly what I had seen, in the exact order, even including the part about her long-haired friend shooting the horse. (Oh boy.)

I got to the part about “cousin. UNCLE. AFFAIR.”  I explained that I wasn’t sure how the “cousin” fit in (or IF it fit in) because it wasn’t as strong as “UNCLE/AFFAIR.” That’s when she informed me that she only had one uncle. It was her mother’s brother. He  died of a heart attack 36 years ago. He was only 45. FORTY FIVE.  She then added that he DID cheat on his wife, and then mentioned that her mother had always thought the heart attack was a “broken heart” that the uncle succumbed to after his wronged wife left him. WOW!

At this point I was getting very confused as to whom the messages were coming from. I had just assumed it was the long- flowy-haired woman I saw in the first vision. I asked her who that might be. Samantha then mentioned that her cousin, THE UNCLE’S SON, committed suicide three years ago, and that he left a wife and two children behind. “Cousin! That’s the cousin!” Her jaw dropped a bit- that obviously hadn’t clicked with her yet, and I could tell this was coming together more and more. The wife, she continued, had “Vidal Sassoon” hair.  I confidently told her, “if that is the ONE thing you think about when you think of her- and that is the ONLY thing she showed me, that HAS to be her.”  Then it all made sense, she was the one placing the scarf around Samantha’s neck- but she wasn’t the one necessarily loading the gun.  It would make absolute sense that she was then running away from that in terror.  But… the horse? Obviously, I put that puzzle together a little wonky. Did I add that piece myself? We may never know. (It was a good guess, I thought!)

So, long-hair-flowy-girl is still alive. Cousin and Uncle are not. Now that I write that down, I’m still not sure why we never considered Uncle to be the spirit communicating with me. Maybe it was just intuition, but our attention immediately went to the cousin. Samantha started to explain that when he committed suicide he left a note. As she was speaking, I looked away and asked, “Why did you do it?” and I heard, “I HAD to.”  I looked back at Samantha and, interrupting her, telling her what he had just said.

“Yes! That’s what he said in his note!” Samantha told me. “That he HAD to!” She went on to explain the financial trouble her cousin was in and felt the only way to get his family out of the mess was to take himself out of the equation in order for them to get his life insurance payout.

At this point, I was wondering if there was more to this visit that I needed to uncover. Many of my readings leading up to this seemed to have procured some piece of advice or comfort that the person still on earth needed to know.   Like when Amy’s brother told her that she was NOT expected to take on the burden of helping their nephew. Or when Gina’s brother told her that he didn’t want her to be angry at his murderer because after all was said and done, he deserved it.   I knew I needed to dig a little deeper with this cousin, just to find out if there was more he wanted to say.

We loaded the chair in the car and watched the dogs play out front for a few minutes.  I asked Samantha again about the orange scarf. It was so significant in my visual, I thought it must mean something to her… but it didn’t. I told Samantha that even though some of these details didn’t resonate with her, to make sure when she tells the story to her mom, to repeat them, just in case. As of now, the orange scarf is still a puzzle piece that isn’t fitting, but it might be just that someone else has the other piece it nestles into.

 When the dogs started to run off and Samantha had to go retrieve them, I used the opportunity to ask the cousin one last question.  I closed my eyes and asked “Is there anything else you wanted to tell her?”

“I miss her. She has a beautiful family.” The dogs then began to bark at a passerby, breaking my concentration, and Samantha looked a little crazy in the huge yard trying to round-up the pups.  She was far enough away still that I knew I had a couple seconds, so I closed my eyes and refocused.

“Anything else?” I asked, giving him one last chance before I repeated his words back to her…

“This is funny to watch,” he told me as Samantha chased four dogs . And then after a small pause where I could tell he was smiling I heard, “No. That’ll do it.”

My first “Reading”

I have a girlfriend who has been intently involved with my medium-y thing since the second spiritual experience.  She knows I’m not bullshitting, she believes all of it, and thus…

She’s a safe bet for my first reading.

I should mention this before I keep going: even though we have this spiritual trust,  I haven’t known her too long.  I did NOT know the ins and outs of her family life. I knew she has a brother who has passed within the past few years, but that was about it.  But… I also had a pull to her. As much as I passed this off as practice, I also had a push from beyond, if you will, that it be her I practice on.

I asked her for permission not long after the Houston medium class. I needed to put these new skills to a real world test.  My Houston teacher taught us to pre-read: To get info from Spirit as a starting point before the actual sit down face to face reading.  So, I sat down with my pad of paper and pen and sat in my bed propped up against my headboard. Lights were dim, doors were closed, and husband was squirreled away in the media room watching some sort of sporting event that would keep him occupied for a bit.  I wrote her name down at the top of the paper and basically just put it out there, “Does anyone want to give Amy XXXXX a message?”

From there I closed my eyes and cleared my head as best I could (I think this is where the meditating practice comes in. It’s not always easy to clear your head.  Basically, if my head is clear and an “idea” pops in, I have to trust that its Spirit. Not that I always do. Some ideas seem so basic and easy to come by that I have a very hard time thinking it didn’t come from me.)  The first thing I hear is “Grandpa Jack”  then, “tradesman” and “worked with his hands.”

(I should clarify, also, I will use “hear” often, but that not really what happens. The best way I can describe it is really just like I said, its like an idea popped into your head. There is no voice to hear, it’s just like, now you think THIS! And then THAT!  I will also use “see,” much in the same way. I have never seen a spirit in the way we see things… it’s just like, I know they are there… Yeah that doesn’t help, does it….)

Next in the pre-read, I see a guy being dragged to me. Lightheartedly, though.  There were men on each of his sides, their arms hooked under his armpits, and his heels were basically stopping in front of him with every step like brakes. It wasn’t in a serious way, almost like he knew he had to come, but still didn’t want to. I guess it was his way of showing his reluctance.  And just like that- Amy’s brother is right in front of me.  (How did I know who it was? … I don’t know. I just did. It was like he told me without telling me.) So I said/thought, “Why are you bummed?” (Yes, that’s really what came out of my head. It happened fast. I’m doing my best here.)

“I’m bummed because I could have stayed longer.”

As with all good tales, this doesn’t go smoothly. Right after that moment, my husband opened the door, startling me.  I fumbled to quickly shut my notebook, embarrassed at how silly this could all seem.  I still felt like this my was my dirty secret, that I wanted this to work so badly.

“What are you writing?”

“Ummm, just my stuff.”

“Then why’d you close it so fast?”

CAUGHT. “I’m just seeing if anyone has any messages for Amy.”

“Oh…. Ok. Well… don’t let me bother you.”

My meditation was done for that evening.

***

Now ideally, I would have set up the sit down reading with Amy for the next day, but every time we tried, something kept getting in the way.  In hindsight, I think there was a fear and reluctance on both of our parts. I know for me, I was extremely worried about getting it right. What if none of this made any sense to her?  Names are super specific.  You could have all the other details right but if the name is wrong, the whole message can get lost to the recipient.  (The medium in Houston actually had said she doesn’t like to use names because of that… which made sense at first but then also made me a bit skeptical of her. Is she not getting them? Is she making shit up? I dunno. I think it probably has to do with the way different mediums receive information. Maybe she just doesn’t get the clear names like I do.)  BUT, “Grandpa Jack” basically WAS the only thing I had so far…So if that is wrong…? Not that I was worried about convincing her – I was probably more worried about convincing MYSELF.  I am my own biggest skeptic (and of course more so of everyone else.)  Up until now, I have made damn sure, probably to a fault, that the info I’m telling you is coming from your loved one is not coming from Holly’s own brain. Even with the Henry story, I’m convinced that encounter could have gone much more smoothly if I’d JUST GOTTEN OUT OF MY OWN WAY.  Maybe he could have told her so much more?!

Sidenote: (I actually asked this question to “my peeps” this morning as I was lamenting about the fear I have about being right combined with getting enough info to be useful. I hardly finished the thought when I heard, “You don’t have to be right.  You just have to LISTEN.”)  Whoa.  (Sidenote to sidenote: husband just asked- “who are your peeps?” That’d be spirit guides. 🙂

***

It was probably a week later that I saw Amy next. We were walking to our car from an event we had both attended and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.  I had to know, “Do you have a Grandpa Jack?”

“Yes, I do.”

This is where I went full tilt on chills. I was turning my head and rolling my shoulders and shaking my legs and hands trying to get rid of the heebie jeebies.  Maybe that’s not the right word though: I’m not scared, it’s not gross, it’s just… FREAKING FREAKY.  And I am STILL just… flabbergasted that this can happen. Like, this is FORREALS.

Another friend was also with us and she pipes in, “Is this that ghost stuff? I have a Grandpa Jack too!”

Amy calmly replies, “Yeah, but yours hasn’t been dead for six months.”

OK. So now that we’ve established she has a grandpa Jack, I press on and tell her, “I also heard, “tradesman,” and “worked with his hands.”

Amy answered, “Well, his job job was with IBM, but his passion was woodworking.”

Again, there goes the chicken skin! Not only was that info correct, but earlier that same day, I had been talking to another woman and had used the company IBM as an example. Right after I said it, I actually thought to myself, “why the heck did I just say IBM? So random.”  I conveyed this info to Amy, and after some shrieks and “wows” I felt confident enough to proceed with my pre-read. But, I didn’t tell her about the brother being dragged in just yet…

***

A few days later, when no one was home, I sat down again with my notebook. I didn’t have much to go on, so I was going to give this pre-reading another go. I hardly even was able to close my eyes and the same brother who was drug in on his heels before was now rushing to me in excitement. He was eager and ready to talk!

“God I love her! She kind, generous, knowledgable, and she’s my savior!”

I tried to go through my list of questions I’d been taught, “What do you look like?” He told me he had been “chunky.” I asked if he had the same hair color as his sister and he replied, “well kind of, but not like hers! She dyes it!”

He mentioned a few other small things, one being that he had worked with his dad, but then gave me the name “Scott.”  I wrote it down, fingers crossed this was the brother’s name.  I was certain she had mentioned her brother’s name to me in the past but I couldn’t remember… was it Scott? Again, names are SO DANG SPECIFIC.

There were a few more basic things, but all very random. The information was just short snippets.  I basically ended up with whole bunch of (seemingly) random bits that I had no idea how or even if they tied together.  And there certainly wasn’t a message that I could tell.  When the brother stopped giving info, I had a faint energy of a grandmother come in -who only mentioned jewelry/a ring- and then I made a call out to Grandpa once more, “Grandpa Jack, you there?”

“I’m here!” he waved from a far corner, hanging out in a chair. “I had to go, but the kids are fine and they know where to find me.”

***

(Full disclosure: It was another week (maybe two?) before Amy and I met up for the sit down reading part. Prior to that, I couldn’t get the “Scott” portion of the info out of my head. Was that her brother’s name? It was killing me.  I went in to Facebook and scrolled through her pictures from years ago, hoping to find out for sure. I didn’t take long to find him, but no… his name was not Scott.  UGH. I’M A FAILURE.

I meet up with Amy a few days later, armed with my notepad and LOTS of nerves. I just wanted this to go right, for her AND me. Will I be able to “communicate” with Spirit once I’m sitting in front of her?  If I blow this reading, then what?   Am I not cut out for this? Do I have to wait for them to come to me again in some crazy way that I’m not prepared for? What if it never happens again?

We sit at a table in the way way back of a Mexican restaurant. We could get away from the people, but not from the constant mariachi music blowing from the speakers.  Oh well, this will have to do. There will always be some sort of distraction, I guess. Lets just see what happens.

I start off by reading my notes. I told her about her brother being reluctant at first, but then how he had such enthusiasm to talk to me the next time. She laughed a knowing laugh and told me that when her brother was alive he was the most anti-medium person you’d ever meet. He thought it was a one way ticket to bad bad things and wanted nothing to do with it. She thought him being dragged in was hilarious, because it made total sense.

I told her how he said he was bummed because he “could’ve stayed longer.” I read the part to her about her being generous, and knowledgable, and his saviour. I told her how he described himself as chunky, and that he had worked with his dad.  She confirmed it was all true, even that her brother had owned a business with her dad in the past.

But then we came to the name Scott.  I actually put my hand over it on my notes so she couldn’t see it, while confessing that I had already looked on Facebook to check if what I had written was her brother’s name.   Knowing I was moments away from a metaphoric punch in the gut, I move my hand and say, “So… who is Scott then?”

Amy’s eyes got wide and she exclaimed, “Scott is my nephew!”

WHAT?!?!?!!  DUUUUUUUUUUDE.

Amy then  told me, “but he’s my other brother’s son. I wonder why he would bring him up?”  I was excited that I wasn’t going crazy, but also kind of shrugged my shoulders because I hadn’t received any other info than the name… so I moved on. I took her through the rest of my notes,  about Grandpa Jack, and the grandmother with the jewelry. Amy confirmed that her daughter wears Amy’s deceased grandmother’s ring every single day.

Without anything else written down, we were both a little perplexed as to what to make of all of this. Like i said before, it was just bits of info, but what are we supposed to do with it?  Like the outline of a play that you haven’t fully written yet. The thing she was stuck on was, “Why would he mention Scott?” The only answer I had for her was that I could try to ask…

So, Mariachi music going strong, waiters bustling around me, I look down, close my eyes and ask in my head, “Why did you tell me Scott?”   IMMEDIATELY I hear, “Scott is going to have some trouble and Im going to be the one to help him I’m going to be the one in his ear.”

Whoa. Not only did the ghost just answer my question, but he just told me some seriously deep shit.   Do I tell her this? Is her nephew two years old and now she’s going to be afraid for him the rest of his days? Then I remember that I’ve read in multiple places, that Spirit won’t tell you things they don’t want repeated. They know what info their loved ones can handle.

So I tell her exactly what I heard.

Amy’s face turned into a satisfied frown as she nodded. I sat there for a moment very confused but finally ask, “Is Scott in trouble?”

“Scott is in JAIL.”

Moments like this is why I use emojis so often in my texting. The face with the mouth straight and eyes WIDE is exactly how I looked. Disbelief.  WOW.  She then started explaining the situation somewhat, but I kept hearing her brother, though, even as she spoke.  It was like he couldn’t say it enough. “I have a team of people over here working in this. So many people. Uncles you’ve never even HEARD of.”

Amy was taking it all in as I instantly felt the need to go back over my notes to her one more time. I was quickly rereading them to her, “he says you were generous, knowledgable and his savior…” and then the brother words flowed right out of my mouth as I put my pencil down next to the word ‘savior’ and drew a hard line directly to where I had written ‘Scott’ and circled his name while saying, “BUT YOU ARE NOT HIS.”

THIS was the message.  THIS was why we were there that day.  Amy needed to stop worrying about saving Scott. Her brother was on it.

Apparently, Scott’s father (Amy’s living brother) had had enough of his sons trouble making and had washed his hands clean of the situation out of desperation.  It had fallen on Amy and her other brother to try to help Scott get back on track after that.  Now that the other brother was gone, Amy was feeling hopeless and wasn’t sure how to handle it anymore.   All of a sudden I knew what he meant by “I could have stayed longer.”  As soon as I thought this, he affirmed it and added, “There’s more I could have done” and “strange turn of events.”

As I told this to Amy, again she nodded. This all made sense to her. They had, as siblings, made big plans. Their mother had been very ill, and so they were arranging to take their father traveling after her impending death. It was a ‘strange turn of events’ when all of a sudden her father passed before her mother, and then soon after, her brother unexpectedly, too. And now Scott in jail. Amy knew exactly what he meant with that message. To her it was an understatement. 

It took me this particular  reading experience to realize that I had started out with this set of notes that at first glance meant nothing. (Hence, the nerves) And only with her input (along with Spirit’s ) were we able to take it further. It showed me that even if to me it looks like I don’t have a lot, everything I need to get the message across is right there.  Although I still wonder… like… why didn’t Grandpa Jack just say, “I loved woodworking?” Why’d he have to give me the whole roundabout “tradesman who worked with his hands” deal? ha!  But again, I need to learn to set aside my fears and… trust it. Or as spirit said, “Just LISTEN.”

*I would normally end this here- but I have to finish up with Grandpa Jack. This guy was a character. I’ve had the pleasure of channeling a couple of spirits where you get a good idea of exactly what their personality was like, and he was full of it. Before we ended our reading, I asked Amy about him. I told her I could tell he was a spitfire and she verified that absolutely he was.  She actually was starting to tell me about the accident he’d had, when I hear him say ,”It was STUPID.” Well, Amy confirmed, it was indeed stupid. He had been trying to kill a bug and fell and broke his hip. (He ended up in the hospital where he deteriorated quickly.)  I could see Grandpa Jack still acting defiantly and rolling his eyes as she told me the rest of his story, and we ended with a chuckle and a hug.