The Crow Knows

I was hoping to have a better conclusion to this next story, which is why I’ve waited so long to tell it. I wanted to wrap it up into a big bow and go, “Here ya go!”, but that isn’t what is going to happen. Not yet anyway…

About two months ago, the fam and I went to Santa Barbara for a little vacation. We hadn’t been back in a long time, and despite both my son Tate and daughter Sayde being born there, neither had many memories of it. So the overcast mornings and beach weather and trips to the waterfront were all new to them. (My oldest had to stay back due to work.) We even ended up staying at a friend of a friends’ house just blocks away from the ocean. It was magnificent!

Driving up from LAX on Saturday evening, my husband reminded me (for the second time) “You should go to church tomorrow.” Now, the church he was talking about was the “Church of the Comforter” in downtown SB, and it was the place where it kind of all began for me. That was where I went for guidance immediately after my initial “blue hair yellow Cadillac” incident. The Sunday service was now less than 14 hours out, and it was going to be the only chance I had at visiting, but I really wouldn’t have remembered had it not been for Casey’s reminders. We had had a crazy couple of days beforehand traveling, and so the forgetful mind coupled with the lure of a warm bed surely would have done me in.

Early the next morning, I found myself in a king size bed with a fluffy duvet, the windows open, and… the CROWS SQUAWKING. My brain was jolted awake and I had a split second of thinking, “You’re kidding me. I’m on vacation and I’m gonna have to listen to THIS every morning?!” Before that thought even ended, I was literally interrupted by another voice. I heard, “HaHaHa! That just means its going to be cool outside. Now get out there and see what’s happening today!” My eyes popped open and I sat there thinking, “Whoa. That was NOT me talking to myself!” I then developed a hypothesis to test on subsequent mornings- “Did the crows only squawk on overcast cool days?”

Casey soon left to golf with the great sport legends of the word, (as one does, right?) and I rallied the kids to go with me to church. Sayde was excited- Tate, not so much. (As he would tell me later: “I BELIEVE you, I’m just not INTO it.” Haha!) We arrived a bit early for “healing” sessions, where you go up to the front of the room and sit in a chair while a healer person… does their healing thing to you. (I don’t know what it is, but if at the very least it’s someone praying over you to be healthy for a few minutes, well then sign me up!)

I went first and selfishly hoped the nice woman would realize how much my stupid chronic shoulder injury hurt and pull off some miracle on me (but knowing that what I really needed was some more clarity about my spiritual journey. 😉 )  I returned to my seat a few minutes later and tried to nudge Tate up to the front. He gave me the death stare, so I turned my attention to Sayde. She was gung-ho and scrambled up to the next available seat.

I then watched as this adorable old woman stands behind Sayde, her eyes closed and her hands slowly tracing Sayde’s aura. The woman breaks into a big smile as she does this. It was neat to watch, but I had to wonder if she had been doing that with everyone? When she was done, I told Sayde about the woman beaming as she “healed” her, and for the next 15 minutes we watched intently as she kept a stoic yoda face with the rest of her heal-ees. Innnnteresting!

From there, it was as normal as a normal church can be. We sang a few songs and listened to some nice words, but the woman leading it then remarks on the bigger attendance today due to the special guest. Turns out we happened to visit on the morning that a medium from Los Angeles was going to give messages. (Coincidence? I think not.) As soon as I saw her, I remember thinking, “Holy hell that’s good hair.” Haha! But then, “I NEED to figure out a way to talk to her after this.” I mean, It isn’t every day that I run into a real live medium ya know!  Anyway- her name is Austyn Wells, and she stood up there and talked about this beautiful life (and reaffirmed my confidence that I’m on the right path) before starting into messages for the people in attendance.

Austyn gave a few readings- and I thought how great it was to once again be privy to this experience, and actually sort of hoping that my “people” on the other side would stay quiet. As a family, we just haven’t had any huge unexpected deaths close to us that have ever impacted our well being, so I wanted other people in the room to have those messages more than myself. Well, that was until Austyn said, “I want to go to the middle of the room. The young man sitting there with the pink shirt.”


I mutter an “ohhhhhh shit,” under my breath as Tate’s head pops up from his phone wide eyed..

Austyn continued, “I have a young man here in the spirit world, about your age. Does that make sense to you?”

“Uhhhhhhh…. maybe? I don’t know…?” Austyn now also looks confused as she moves to the man sitting in front of Tate. “It’s definitely in this area- does that mean anything to YOU?” The man shakes his head no.

A few seconds of silence passed as we waited for Austyn to continue, until the woman NEXT to Tate says “I know a young male in the spirit world.” Austyn looked at her for a split second before turning her attention confidently back to Tate,

“No, this is for YOU. The young gentleman in the pink shirt. You are who I need to work with on this.”

She started to describe a young man, the same age as Tate. She said he was standing up there with an air of confidence, like he was bad ass and he knew it. Tate still looked confused. I know now that he was going through the very small Rolodex of people he knew of that had died. He thought that maybe it could have been a boyfriend of one of his friends that had died a few years back, but nothing was truly clicking. And then she said, “You might not actually know this guy.” That’s when it hit me. I tapped Tate on the shoulder and I said, “I know who it is.”

*Now, before I go any further, I need to give you some info, and I’m going to try real hard not to give any identifying information. So, some facts will be changed and others left out.

There was a teenager who died just before we left on our trip. He was around Tate’s age, and while they didn’t know each other, they probably would have known OF each other. It was one of those deaths that just stops you in your tracks for a bit: same age as Tate- same interests- I was sure that we must have seen this kid around at some point. (I feel like I may have said too much already, but those are some facts that are sort of integral to the story here.)

“I know who it is,” I told Tate.

“You do?”

“It’s that kid from Willis.”

And when I say it hit me, IT HIT ME. I’m SURE that this kid was going, “It’s me its me!” before deciding to pop into my head for a quick shout. It was as if all of a sudden- I just KNEW.

Tate and I turned back to Austyn and we both started listening to the details she was giving with fresh ears. She told us how many siblings he had (later confirmed,) the two toned dog that he had by his side, and that he was reaching out to Tate because he didn’t know any other way to get a message to his parents- he was desperate to just let them know he was OK. She said that none of his family would be in a position to get a message, so going through Tate was his way of grasping at spiritual straws, in a way. She said the father was devastated, but that the mom was SO distraught that the father was both grieving his son and feeling utterly helpless as to how to help his wife.

Tate relayed to Austyn that we did NOT in fact know this kid, so we couldn’t confirm or deny any of the details she was giving. “Can you meet me after this then?” Austyn asked. “This is too important to not figure out. He even came IN with you guys!” Austyn’s point was, this wasn’t just some oh-hey-look-who’s-here-I’m-gonna-say-Hi thing. This kid was doing everything to make this all come together. In my head, I went back to the oddness of Casey just happening to remind me to go to church- TWICE. The weird crows waking me up bright and early and telling me to “go out and see what’s happening out there!” The fact that Tate was even THERE. I can’t even being to tell what an oddity THAT was.

While Austyn was speaking, a lady’s phone randomly went off in the front row. Not a ring or a beep, but Siri saying the date. “July, twenty (garbled), two thousand seventeen.” The poor lady scrambled to pick up and silence her iPhone and the congregation giggled. Austyn did too, but then said, “You know, Spirit works in mysterious ways… Does July mean anything? Maybe not this July, but July?”

I looked at her and my voice shook. “This July. He died this July.” I heard the audience gasp. Here’s the thing: the day in church was July thirty. But Siri had said July twenty something. I hadn’t heard the exact date, but Sayde turned to me and said, “Mom, she said July twenty ****.” And sure enough, when we looked it up after, that was the day he had died.

We stayed after and Austyn sat down with us. She said the kid was still there, of course, and was now talking about his teammates and how they were like brothers to him. He also needed them to know he was ok. She said he was acknowledging that he couldn’t believe it had come to this, having to work with his direct competitor! Austyn asked Tate if he was comfortable passing on the message to them. Tate said that he would try, but that they didn’t even have any friends in common. Austyn paused for a moment and wondered aloud, “Why would he ask you this if you don’t know any of them?” and then she she kind of answered her own question and stated emphatically, “You need to talk to the person with the A- name. That’s who will be the most open to this.”

For the sake of brevity, I’ll leave out some of the “connective tissue” that takes us to the end of all of this. Suffice to say, my whole family’s head was spinning on what steps to take next. Tate ended up getting a phone number for the friend with the “A” name and after explaining what had happened (via text)- the friend never replied back.


I have since contacted the Dad via social media and asked to sit down with him for a bit. I wouldn’t normally reach out to a stranger like that, but in this situation, how could I not? Yesterday, his father and I finally traded some, you guessed it, text messages. To say that was not my preferred method of communication would be a massive understatement, but he was wanting some details as to why I wanted to speak to him. I tried my best not scare him off, giving as little as I could while also giving him.. something. I just felt like if I could physically sit down with him I could explain it all…

Well, that was yesterday midday and… I haven’t received a reply. While my soul wants to give him a message from his son, my heart only can hope that I didn’t make his pain any worse. As of right now? I’m not sure if I’ll ever find out.

My plan is to give it a few more days, and if I still don’t hear anything, tread lightly with one more text, simply stating that his son just wanted him to know he was ok.

The other stuff? Well I do have a tidy/feel good end to those pieces, so that’s where we can wrap this up. The old Yoda healer lady interrupted our conversation with Austyn to tell us what a pleasure it was to work with Sayde, and that she couldn’t help but giggle during it! She said that Sayde had such a good soul, and that many many spirits were around her, all wanting to be a part of her healing. It was almost as if they were arguing over who was going to get to help!

Also, it may have slipped out that I’d just gotten back from ghost school in London, so I got some serious greet cred at the church. 😉 Sayde and I ended up going to dinner with Austyn that night and she will be one of my medium buddies forever!

And my hypothesis regarding the crows? Well the next morning, Monday, it was overcast and the crows squawked again. Tuesday? The sun was shining and… no crows. But here’s the fun part: on my last morning there- the crows started squawking yet again. I’m thinking, “ok- let’s see if it’s overcast!” As I opened my eyes I caught a peek of… wait what? Brilliant sunshine?! But before I could throw away my week of highly scientific testing, I again hear the same voice that started my week off with a jovial/tongue-in-cheek, “Merry Christmas! This ones on us!”

Holly Paulson Ph”Md.”

I should have been a doctor. Oh sure, the classes are intense, the time laborious, but at least there’s a plan.  You take chemistry and anatomy and then move on to biology and clinicals (or however it goes) and never sleep and then years later its over and VOILA! You’re a doctor.

But this? This is wacky.  I’m sort of in a rut right now- the spiritual juices just aren’t flowing currently. So it doesn’t help that I don’t know if I’m a freshman or a sophomore- and I’m pretty sure I”ll never know if I graduate.  And, as hard as I want to work to see this through, I don’t know if what I’m doing is even part of the curriculum! There is no one school I can get into and just show up for class. It’s like I WANT to get my degree- but there is nowhere to apply!

“OK but what about ghost school? Didn’t you just get back from London?”

Well, yes. That is true.   And its also true that one of the only things that has kept me sane so far is going there and learning that a lot of spiritual experiences are so similar. “Oh good you heard the voices, too? Whew!”  But as much as I was hoping that the London course was going to be Ghost 101 (GST101) leading to a Medium degree at Oxford, it wasn’t.  And ironically enough, it was an exchange I had outside class that really helped this sink in.

If you’ve been following from the get go, you’re familiar with the story that set this whole thing into motion a couple years ago: when the 20 something year old kid basically shared my body for a good 45 minutes so he could hug and assure his mom he was ok.   I wrote about that experience in a very detailed way; not for artistry, but because what I wrote is EXACTLY how it went down.  From the square plane of energy that glided through my head to the abrupt ending once he said “I gotta go,” those details were amazingly clear to me.  Furthermore, I knew I’d deal with skeptics from all around… but I never thought I’d have another medium question it…

A little background on the London class: The gentleman who put it together is a highly respected medium named Paul Jacobs. (I hadn’t heard of him before my trip but HO-LEE-CRAPOLA he is GOOD!) Paul’s mentor was a man named Gordon Higginson. Now, I still haven’t learned much about Mr. Higginson, but apparently he was THE king of “trance” mediumship while he was alive. (I will also say I don’t know much about trance mediumship either- I’m still a freshman! Or a sophomore?) Anywhoo- I think I was one of the only people there that just went to this course on a hunch, cause everyone else seemed to have the backstory down.

Cut to one of the nights after a long day in class: a lot of us went to the little “pub” the school has downstairs to keep mingling. I think it was night three, and I started talking to a woman who wasn’t in my class.  I’m pretty sure she had been to the school before, but I know for sure she currently works as a medium and a spiritual teacher. My point is- she was not in the kindergarten class like I was. Ha!  Somehow we got to talking about what had brought me to the school, and I told her a bit of my story.  When it came to the part about this kid sharing my body- she gave me a look of disbelief. And not disbelief like “wow thats amazing,” but disbelief like “you have no idea what you’re talking about you silly little kindergartener.”  I found myself retelling details to try to convince her that it happened just like I said it did. Her reply was something to the effect of “spirits don’t take over your body like that. Maybe it felt like it but thats probably just because you didn’t know what connecting feels like. If they DID take you over it would be trance mediumship and you wouldn’t be able to remember it.”

I walked away from the conversation incensed.  Her comments came off to me as completely condescending. “I was the beginner, so I couldn’t really know yet now could I?!” (Sarcasm font.)   Trance mediumship was out of my league, I guess. (Without getting into the intricacies, I stand by my story. Nothing I have experienced since that day has been even remotely like it.) After feeling like I was being bullied by a fourth grader, my co-kindergarteners finally talked me down.  I realized that I must have come off to this woman like I was trying to put myself up there with the likes of the revered Gordon Higginson, and if my story was true, it threw her whole perception of the process right out the window..  The idiocy of all this makes me laugh now- because its such a typical “Holly” thing to do.  It was like I went to a Michael Jordan basketball camp run by Steph Curry and had no idea who either one of them were beforehand. And then to top it off, telling one of the participants that I had just started getting into basketball because I got asked to join a pick up game one day and made 30 half court shots in a row and thought, hmmm, maybe I should try this sport. (Oh wait- I was supposed to make a medical school reference there, wasn’t it? Shoot. Eh- Ill get back to it. )

So, I took a few things from this dramatic episode of ghost school:

1) A deep breath before responding is GOOD- because I was ready to take that bi@#h DOWN.  😉

2)   This woman was trying to fit being a medium into a tidy little schedule of courses and semesters. A syllabus where “trance” mediumship is only for the PHD’s. (There it is.)  And taking it further- that true “trance mediumship” had to fall into a specific set of circumstances.  She wanted to put rules and parameters on something that no one can really explain.  But how can I blame her? Thats how I want it to be too! This chaotic medium journey would be exponentially more palatable if there was a visible path to graduation.  Which leads me to-

3) In the beginning, as much as I needed to know that others were having the same experiences, I’ve finally rounded the corner, and now know it’s OK to have different ones too- ones that don’t need to be a part of any textbook. I don’t need to label myself as a type of medium, nor do I want to limit any abilities because I don’t consider myself an upperclassman.  That is not to say there aren’t some good lectures I should be sitting in on from time to time-  I know that there are teachers out there who know WAY more than I do now- but I also have to remember:  I don’t ever get to put on a cap and gown and finally start the “real work.”   This is more like a lifelong internship- keeping my ears and heart open, knowing that my next “patient” could be the girl I’m playing in tennis tomorrow.

So my current spiritual lull that I’m in? IT’S OKAY.  It’s not even that I’m having DIFFERENT experiences… I’m just not really having ANY experiences right now. BUT THAT’S OK. A couple weeks or months off isn’t going to kill my semester grades.  That’s what’s been on my mind lately- “what am I NOT doing?! Why isn’t meditating working?” And then when I overthink it… anxiety. And anxiety equals getting in my own head and blocking out the very thing who’s absence is making me anxious. Vicious circle, I tell ya. 😉

I wanted to share this last little story too. It might beget more questions than it answers, but it was sort of mind blowing to me.  So, I’m an avid watcher of Hollywood Medium.  It’s a show starring a 20 year old named Tyler Henry, and from what I can tell- this kid is as legit as they come. He’s such a good mix of giving solid evidence while also being extremely empathetic. It’s really a perfect example of how I would love to work someday. Well, I came across an e-book a few weeks back (I’ll have to link to it in an update.) The text was mostly philosophical and way over my head- but one paragraph caught my attention as I was skimming. It repeated the question I had been unknowingly asking for so long- Tyler Henry is 20. TWENTY. I didn’t even have my first spiritual experience until I was 25- what’s the deal??? Why do some people connect with Spirit so easily (especially at young age) while others have to work so hard at it?

The answer they gave was that connecting with the other side takes a LOT of work, and people who it seemingly just “happens” to (like Tyler Henry) have just simply already put the work in.






Whoa. Makes SO MUCH SENSE.  But the disheartening part… I realized I may not be a junior now until I’ve died and come back again.  Yeesh.  Doesn’t heaven have any legacy admissions?


p.s. I’m working on ending the lull- and I definitely feel like I’m emerging from it finally. Meditation is the key (man they’ve been saying that for ages haven’t they?) and I’m moving toward putting that into daily practice. I just watched one of my London teachers, Andy Byng, give a talk the other day, and I took this from it: “Break down your meditation. Master each piece. Then put it together.” I’m working on it, Professor!

Move over, Tarot

Encaustic Wax on paper- 5×7. Im trying to find the exact name for this- coming soon!

I’ve always been a skeptic.  I needed a spirit to talk to ME before I really ever TRULY believed it was happening to others. And yet now, even after getting my proof, I’m still on the fence about “divination tools.”  Tarot cards, crystals, tea leaves- you name it. I mean,  maybe they work, but they really aren’t for me.  I would have lumped color into that category too.

So, it was a big surprise when I was at ghost school (i.e. the Arthur Findlay College,) that color was a big focus of our learning at the beginning. P.S., if i hadn’t made this clear in previous posts, it was sort of a running joke that my group and I were in the kindergarten class. We were the beginners, and everyone knew it, so it was sort of fitting that we were doing some coloring of sorts (see picture above.) What we came to realize, though, is that we had the last laugh, because we were doing some pretty FUN stuff that the others were not.  Which is not to say bringing messages through from spirits isn’t fun, but this particular exercise taught me a lot about connecting to someone “psychically, ” also something I would have easily dismissed before last week.

Before this exercise, we learned about the particular meanings each color has, and what information one can glean when colors show themselves in auras, readings, etc..  To further the lesson, our tutor, Sue, had each of us melt our choice of encaustic wax onto a 5×7 piece of specialized paper using a flat iron.  The idea here was to not think about it too much. Just to go right away with your gut, with both what colors to choose and how they melt: your guide would help you to make it just right for others to read.  (Thus, each persons card is individualized to them, and them only.)  The above image is what I produced.

We then took our cards and went around the room, reading each others’ wax works. The kicker here was to try to blend psychically with the other person, so that your messages to them are inspired by not only what they are projecting with their energy, but also possibly what your guides (and anyone they choose to allow in!) are telling you.

I can’t say I remember a lot of the particulars in the readings given to me. I think it had to do with nerves, and me worrying about having to go in the next group.  I do know that at least one person picked up on the “R” in the middle left of the image, which led them to bring up a very important father figure in my life who passed quite a few years ago.   Now flip the card around….


…and voila! More stories to tell. My favorite is the almost black and white closeup of the tide receding on the sand. See it there in the purple? And how it’s reflecting the sunlight?

What I do remember most from the card readings are the ones I did for other people. Before my first reading, I was a Nervous Nellie. I had never worked with color before, or even tried to read someone without a direct smack on the back from spirit. I was just sure I was going to sound like an idiot- “I see a lot of swirls which tells me you are very confused most of the time!” HAH!   Once I started, though, it was if the information just flowed almost effortlessly.  I would see a shape in their card, and it just triggered this knowing that I was then able to communicate back to them.  It wasn’t always literal- but for me it was as if my guide (or her aura?) would lead me to see something in particular. Once I saw the wax take form into some shape, I could then quickly surmise what it meant. (This is where you can’t think too hard, though, much like mediumship. Just trust the information you are being given in real time, because once you bring your own brain into overthinking it, you ARE gonna sound like an idiot.

One person in my group allowed me to share her card, so I could explain what I got from it. Check this out:


From this card- I asked the woman if she had two children. “Yes.” One boy and one girl? “Yes.”  Does the girl have more of an outgoing personality? “Yes.” Is the boy older? “Yes.”

Seriously. I didn’t get one thing wrong with these details.  Can you see anything there that would give you this information?


Enter a caption

There they are. Two faces: one in the “blue”, one in the”pink” that told me about her family.  Boy is on top so he’s older. His “meh” face told me he wasn’t as social as the younger girl.

And yes, I’m still in shock.  My intuition/guide basically told me where to look and what to think.  That’s some weird shee-yat right there.

From then on- I felt like the psychic gung-ho master with everyone’s cards.  “You have unresolved issues with your father, don’t you!” “You’re really stuck in a rut!” HAHA! It probably did sound just that cheesy, but the thing is, I knew it was true!

I also took an aura photograph that I’m excited to share. I thought I’d get to it here, but this could quickly turn into a novel that way.  In the next post, I’ll share my photograph, explain what the colors stand for (which is also part of the wax reading, but I don’t know that I utilized that aspect very much in this exercise,) and what they meant (for me) where they fell into my aura.

Lovely. Now I’ve got myself all geeked about this wax stuff again and am looking on amazon for a quick start kit.  Let me know if you have any recommendations- brand? colors? And then c’mon on over and play- I’ll need the practice!



I am a medium.

Arthur Findlay School, class of… April, 2017?  Of COURSE I jumped in front and center! I am my mother’s child.
I’m home now…. and man, I don’t even know where to start. Six full days of ghost school under my belt… I had so many questions answered and hypotheses confirmed, but I’m also now even more keenly aware of my shortcomings as a medium.

When people ask me how my week was, I’m still trying to form my thoughts.  I saw demonstration upon demonstration that would turn any skeptic in to a believer right then and there. I met loads of people who were in the exact same position I was.  But as I touched on in the last post- the word of the week for me was “subtle.” My tutors (I’m so UK now) confirmed what I had begun to realize; my signs from the spirit world were not going to be as huge moving forward. They have my attention now, and aren’t using so much energy (which apparently isn’t easy for them) to chat anymore. The big stuff is for the people who aren’t listening!  (Which leads me to a funny story that I just have to tell real quick…)

My tutor John told me about a woman who had called him, exhausted about weird things happening in her home. She said three other mediums had come in and basically ran away with their tails between their legs, at having failed to expunge the evil presence at her house.  John said he was there doing his thing for about two minutes when he said to her (in his Irish accent) with a laugh, “Your grandfather doesn’t appreciate being called evil.” He said the woman just started at him wide eyed. 


“I said, your GRANDFATHER doesn’t appreciate being called evil.”

John explained that he told this lady that the presence was not some demonic evil thing, but her grandfather hanging around. He said she just needed to acknowledge the spirit presence, and tell it that you know it’s him! And also, that she would appreciate if he would stop, as he was frightening her.  John told me that after they did that, the incidents ceased.  See? she just wasn’t listening. Haha!)**

Alright, back to the task at hand: I AM a medium. That was one question I answered for myself last week. There is no way I could walk away from this now. As we were discussing booking this trip to Arthur Findlay College a few months ago, my husband, Casey, asked me, “What do you want to do with this? Where do you see this going?” and in the past, if I didn’t have the answer, I would have backed down with a lack of confidence- as if I knew I needed to do some more research and make sure I knew my next move before I dove in.

But THIS time, all I could come up with was, “I don’t have an answer. I just know that I have to go.” I don’t know how it’s going to pan out! Will I be a medium who gives personal readings? Who does platform demonstrations in a church? A medium who writes books? Will I be able to sense spirits just hanging out in a restaurant? See auras?

I have none of these answers. I don’t even have a preference, necessarily. I also don’t know if someday I will be able to contribute to any sort of college funds or family vacations with this as a profession. All I know is that – this is me.

Can anyone be medium? I dunno.  I DO think we can all be psychic, but maybe being a medium is more of something that is part of your soul’s DNA. And as one of my tutors Andy Byng, pointed out, “I want to help people” isn’t really the answer to “why do you want to be a medium?” Doctors help people all the time! So do teachers and firefighters and… roofers!  So it can’t be just that.  He went on to say that the meaning of life is to LIVE! To live as who you were meant to be to best flesh out your soul’s purpose. So in the same way that one may have had the soul calling to become a journalist or a nurse or a dancer or an artist, I AM a medium. Radio DJ didn’t fill my soul- it got me free dinners and tickets (and some badass backstage passes that I dearly miss.) TV weather girl didn’t get me closer to loving people- It just filled my ego (people now knew who I was by sight, not just my voice! Yay.) Photography? It was actually probably one of the catalysts to opening this spiritual door for me. It allowed me to photograph people, especially teenagers, and use a camera to help them feel beautiful and confident. It opened my eyes to how much some of us need that! But, in the last few years, it just hasn’t felt like my thing.

No, I am a medium. Nothing else has ever felt truer to me.

Now, saying that is only part of the equation. It doesn’t mean that I have all the skills to successfully connect everyone with their loved ones who are in spirit. It means that I now know, if i put in the hard work, I have a fighting chance at having some confidence when it does happen. There were two times throughout the week that I had full confidence that I had truly connected with a spirit, and I talked about one of them in my last post. But what I didn’t get a chance to talk about yet was the other two or three that felt like I got nowhere.  I could go into all the reasons it probably wasn’t working, but most importantly, it highlighted that it’s still my responsibility to tread lightly. (Thank goodness the people I “failed” with weren’t actually there for some answers!) I have had many people approach me for a reading, but I know there is a fine balance between them needing some closure and guidance and a CONNECTION with their loved one, and me needing some PRACTICE.  What if I can’t provide the connection? The bottom line is, I need to connect with spirit on my own time and terms over and over again before I can trust it to be there when someone ELSE needs it.  I owe that to us all.

Now- how will I do that? It’s not just meditate meditate meditate. It’s SIT IN THE POWER sit in the power SIT IN THE POWER.  This means when I sit quietly, I don’t need to quiet my mind- I need to sit in my own aura. (Stay with me here. I know this is sounding weird from me. Hahah!) Simply put, it’s active meditation, where you really focus on your inner energy and building that and spreading it out to be something that other auras can easily blend with.  SHEESH, IS THAT ALL???  Once you really know what that feels like, you can then practice with your spirit guide, by alternatively asking them to blend and back off. (Hmmm…”Back off” sounds aggressive… maybe I should say “de-blend?” Yeah. I’ll use that going forward.) OK- so blend, de-blend, blend, de-blend. And try to notice the subtle shifts in your energy. Notice any physical changes. Does your face tingle? Do you feel a tight band around your brow? When I did this exercise, it felt as if the air around my skin just got tighter, like a higher pressure (although at other times I have gotten the tingling and the brow band and my nose will tickle too!)

Once you get used to THAT exercise, then you can ask your guide to bring someone in that wants to connect.  If someone does show up, you may feel differently yet again! (I feel like this is some PHD sh*t, so I’m not expecting to necessarily get there anytime soon, but I’ll keep working!)  (PS. Also, your guide is your gatekeeper. They won’t let in just anyone, so stop stressing about being taken over and whatnot. ) The takeaway from this is simple even if the work ahead is not: know what your being/self/aura feels like on its own well enough that when that changes, however subtle, you can recognize it.

Thats where I’m at now.  That does NOT mean that you shouldn’t ask me for a chat or a reading- I can’t predict what spirit will do. In fact, usually when someone approaches me about needing some help with connecting to someone, Spirit will end up tapping me on the shoulder soon enough to make it happen.  And, as in the case a few weeks ago when I got the “uncle, affair” message before I went and picked up the chair from my friend, sometimes those messages will be for those who weren’t expecting them! (Although I promise not to give them to you if you don’t want them… or in public. )

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so wordy- I have many more things I need to post from the week! Wax color readings (I’ll share that next!) and aura photographs (so so cool. I totally thought it seemed like such bulls*&t, but it was AWESOME.)  For this post though, I will wrap up with a thought- and maybe I’m just working this out for me, but I’m gonna share:

Right now, I think I AM fulfilling my purpose. RIGHT NOW, I am a”blogging medium,” simply trying to explain all this weird weird stuff to not only myself, but to people who knew as little as I did two years ago, using words we all understand, without all the unnecessary “woo woo” goodies.  Maybe, just maybe, someone else who got hit with the cast iron spirit skillet will happen across this and know that there are others who trudged this path before. Maybe you, reading this right now, have gone through much of life calling BS on all of this stuff but then read some of this and went, “Shit. I know her, and she just does not seem the type to make this crap up.”  Once I start speaking in tongues, I’m thinking maybe you wont be able to relate to my experience anymore … but RIGHT NOW, this is a start.


Always Mention the Pipe (Ghost School Part 3) “Reading One”

Ghost school is evolving. We first started out learning the basics about it all: color meaning, pyschic energy, etc., but now we have actually moved on to real readings.  There are probably a lot of really fun stories inside the last two days, but I know that the really interesting part is the readings and the evidence – so let’s talk about that first!

I’m finding that one of the biggest things I will take away from this week is that messages from spirit are actually quite subtle. Remember how in the beginning of this journey I described it as being hit over the head with a “spiritual frying pan?” Well now, as one grows in their awareness, it’s kind of like they throw a feather at you. And it’s real easy to brush off that touch as nothing more than just a whisp in the air.

Being in the beginner class (with our instructor Sue) yesterday was the first day that we gave it a go. We all took a turn standing up in front of the group and seeing what came through. Some of us had an easier time than others, but again, a lot of that I think can be explained with how confident you are in your abilities. If you aren’t either confident enough or aware of your own being enough, then you will indeed disregard a piece of information as something in your own head (or start to make sh*t up, really.) But if you can sort of let go and just go with it – it can be pretty amazing what comes out of your mouth.

Our group was taking turns getting up in front of the class to try our first reading of the session. I volunteered to go second. My stomach was in knots and I was very unsure of how this was going to pan out. Our teacher is fortunately extremely encouraging, though, so I didn’t feel rushed to try and make some connection.  I sat there with my eyes closed for probably about 10 seconds- wherein I had all of these different sorts of relationships swirling through my mind: Grandmother, grandfather, sister, cousin… but only when Sue said “you’re brushing them all away!” did I finally think,

“OK I’m just going to pick the next one.”

The next piece of information that came into my head was very small and very quick, but it was a definite feeling of grandfather and “it” was actually about waist height and came through as sort of a triangle with the top pointed away from me to the left.  (Only after I was done did I finally figure out that the arrow was actually pointing to the person the spirit belonged to.)  I said, “I have a grandfather here.” Quickly after that I got a feeling that this gentleman was sort of meek in his presence. He didn’t have a big personality, and there actually seemed to be a bit of regret in this.  “What caused him to be this way?” the teacher asked.  I was impressed with the knowledge that it stemmed from his relationship with his mother, and her making him feel… unworthy, if you will. As I relayed this information to the group, I got a vision of some wood posts… sort of in the shape of a house that would just be beginning to be built, like a very simple frame. I also quickly saw the word “carpenter” or “carpentry.”  I took this to mean that this grandfather was probably a carpenter in his life. So I relayed that information, too.

The next thing I saw was a quick image of this man – almost like a headshot. It was an old man in his 80s or early 90s with one of those newsboy caps on that button in the front so that they’re flat. The man also had a pipe, but the pipe sort of flickered, and quickly went away, even faster than the image itself. I also saw some glasses, but again I was unsure of those as well. When you are in the moment, it’s kind of like “did I just see that?”  Because now if I say “this man wore glasses” and I got that wrong – I probably just have completely thrown off the person who this was intended for.

The teacher finally puts me on pause to see if anyone recognized this man as someone they knew.


So she has me recap… “I have an old man, with a paperboy hat on who was more softspoken and behind the scenes, was a carpenter,” and then I finally revealed, “and he also showed me a pipe.”  This is when Amy, a girl in my class, finally raised her hand. She said, “everything fits… except that my grandfather wasn’t a carpenter.”

Amy’s Grandpa- without the pipe


Hmmmm, I decided to explain what I had seen, which was simply a wooden frame, and then the word “carpent…” I truly never did get the last few letters, and also just assumed that this information meant his livelihood.  Amy spoke up again, “oh that’s the rabbit cage. We built that together.”  Aha! I then heard grandpa say to me, “that’s right!”… so I knew we had the right recipient.

I was still fairly nervous, trying to pull out any piece of information I could from the spirit.  (Believe me when I tell you, the few things I had just told the group are not even remotely up to the rigorous standards of this school, so thank goodness I’m in the beginning class. Anything else and they would have kept pushing and pushing for more: something I’m not quite confident enough to do yet. It’s gonna take some practice!)  The last thing he gave me was the feeling of giving her a gift, and that gift was the knowledge of his regret- that he wished she could learn from his desire to “speak up more! Be a part of the discussion and don’t be afraid to let your voice be heard.”

After class, I asked Amy some questions about her grandfather.  She said he always had that hat on, the paperboy hat, and she was just waiting for me to mention the pipe before she raised her hand.  I told her, “well I was unsure of the pipe, because it sort of flickered and went away.”  She then informed me that his pipe smoking was done in secret- that he would go outside to do it.  BING! 

Amy didn’t know much about his relationship with his mother (her great grandmother) so that is something she said she would check into.

I’ll let you know. 😉

Ghost School – part TWO

It’s been two days now… I feel like I’m at camp! I got to the Arthur Findlay College on Saturday, with only five minutes to spare until the week officially started. It would have been 15 minutes but my taxi driver and I started talking about how the locals called this place “spook hall” and how he was only 96% convinced of all this stuff and that he had lost his son three years ago and he wasn’t sure there was much to live for anymore. Sigh. I would have stayed out there another 20 if it had meant I could give him some peace. I took a picture of his badge and vowed in my head to try to get a hold of him after this week was over and when I hopefully had some more tools in my kit. 
Night one was mostly getting acquainted with the place and the teachers. Having run a bit late, I missed meeting with the “headmaster” Paul, who had already chatted with the other students and parsed them into groups according to experience. So, after Paul’s first formal address to the group, I was finally “sorted” into Hufflepu, errr… Sue’s class. (Ha! I’m sure they haven’t heard THAT one before.) Sue’s class is the beginning group, which is exactly where I’d hoped to end up. I wanted to start from the beginning, even if it meant I’d rehear some things.

The pluses?

*Tea everywhere, and real milk to put in it! Hallelujah!

*Three solid meals a day that I don’t have to cook any of!

*We are in a beautiful Manor with more nook and crannies and doors and stairwells than I can count (we had the discussion yesterday of whether this was a castle and my new London friend gently offered “manor” as a more fitting term.)

*I’m meeting amazing new people who all get what I’m going through and trying to achieve (even if I don’t know exactly what that is yet…)

The petty negatives?

*Downtime is hard to come by, so I’m really having to carve out a few extra minutes to write some of this experience down!

*My roommate is a lovely older woman from France, but she really likes to keep the room hot. I wait until she falls asleep and I get down on the floor with my iphone flashlight and turn down the furnace. Sneaky! But then she wakes up in the middle of the night and closes the window. Ugh. I do feel like I’m winning this fight, though, because last night I woke up to find her blanket-less, hot, and splayed out on her bed. I shall use this against her tonight when the battle resumes.

*Electricity. I thought I was SOOOO on top of things when I brought my little plug converter. Turns out, though, that its actually a three prong to two prong, the one that a European would bring to the US to convert THEIR appliances. So… I have resigned to having terrible hair all week. Thank goodness I brought lots of hair ties.

Sunday was the first full day of class, and my beginner group worked on psychic communication (as opposed to mediumistic type.) I’m simplifying it, of course, but that means merging your aura with the aura of another physical person. This is something many of us do already, YOURSELF INCLUDED. It’s how we know things about people without them even saying. (We will begin to work on mediumistic communication in the coming days- and that is where the medium merges their aura with the aura of a NON physical soul. Get it?)

Sue also talked about one of the hardest things mediums have to overcome, which is knowing when the information coming through is actually from Spirit or simply our own imaginations. She had us do an exercise where we closed our eyes, quieted our mind, and tried to really start to identify what it feels like to be in our own aura. Then, she would ask our guides to merge with our aura, where we could then take note of if we felt any differently. For me, the change was subtle, but I could definitely feel like my surrounding space got tighter. Like as if the air around me became a form fitting security blanket. When Sue asked them to retreat, so did the air around me.

*Side note- I am chuckling over here in this castle manor because I cant believe we have come so far with this. My first blog post I was belittling crystals and tarots, and now I’m having a serious discussion about auras. Thank you for reading with a straight face, if you are. HAHA!

I now have only a few minutes left until I have to be in the sanctuary for our morning meditation… so I will wrap this up until the next “ghost school” update. I am excited to share some images of my new friends and my hot roommate. Cheerio!

Oh I just spotted Casper the Manor cat! 

Ghost School- part one

I’m at the Houston airport… ready to hop on a plane to London… by myself… for a week.  Aaaaand, I’ll be taking a class in mediumship at a place called Arthur Findlay College. (More to come on this place once I get there in about 12 hours. Also, I still think “ghost school” has a nice ring to it.) But first, guess I should fill in the blanks on how I got to this point, huh?

Alrighty then, let’s start with the story that I should have written down already about my medium class in Houston.   In late 2016, I received an email announcing a class at Spirit Quest, which is one of those stores where they sell all the woohoo goodies like crystals and stuff.  It was going to be taught by a gentleman named David Scott, whom I actually had a reading from years ago in Dallas! (Well, “reading” is subjective, as I hadn’t really needed to hear from any loved ones on the other side, I really just wanted to pick his brain about my first spirit encounter: the nanny/blue hair/yellow Cadillac incident. I had actually seen him twice, the first was an amazing group reading where he gave me messages about my grandmother.) So, I signed up gleefully and went to this four hour class on some late Sunday of last year.
Now, David Scott is all business when it comes to mediumship.  Basically, you’d better prove yourself to the client before you start giving them messages.  EVIDENCE is the key.  And if the details dont match up? Well, the message just isn’t for them then.  Which leads me to the part of the class I wanted to tell you about.  After a few hours of listening to David discuss such matters as the difference between phsychic and medium messages and the physical and astral plane, he asked us if anyone wanted to give it a go… meaning stand up and… be a MEDIUM.
There were only about 6 of us in the class, and nobody was raising their hand right away… so… “OK I’ll go!” This is what I came for, right?
I stood up in front of the small group… mind racing and adrenaline surging… I’m always still so afraid this isn’t going to work! I closed my eyes to try to get into my subconscious space where I can hear/see/feel what Spirit is giving me. I’m sure David gave me some sort of speech to proceed, but all I remember is closing my eyes and having this black blob figure pop up right in front of my face. It was as if my mind’s eye was a movie screen, and someone just popped up right into it from below the projector.  I opened my eyes and told the group excitedly,  “A lady just went “bloop!” right up into my face! (For some reason, it made that sound to me. Bloop! Like a cartoon sound. Ha! And also, I knew it was a lady.)
David encouraged me to get some more information from her. “Good. I feel her here too. Who is she? What does she look like?” I closed my eyes again, and she was now standing further away, so that I could make out her full outline. She was still all black, but not dark with a bad connotation; I just didnt see any features.  Right away I could tell she was short and a bit round, and she was someone’s grandma. Her hair was dark- about shoulder length. She was like a little Italian grandmother.   I also knew she belonged to someone on the far left of the room.
I opened my eyes and shared this information with everyone. At this point my nerves were getting the best of me as they had for much of the class. (David’s overall take away for me all day was “You’ve got to get out of your own way.” Basically, it’s hard for me to stay listening to my subconscious for very long. I keep getting distracted by my surroundings and conscious brain and break the connection with Spirit often.)  David helped me continue, “OK, ask her how she died.”
I closed my eyes again and just repeated that question in my head to the black blobby grandma. (Ha! Sorry.) “How did you die?”
RIGHT AWAY, the word “diabetes” is written out before me (at an angle, interestingly enough. Odd.) I immediately looked at David excitedly, “She showed me the word diabetes!”
This is where David being a medium requiring strict evidence came into play.  “Well, from the woman you described, it sounds like it could be my grandma,” he started. “But it also could be this gentleman’s grandma,” as he pointed to the man next to him. “Both of our grandmas were Italian, short, round, and with shorter black hair, but MINE didn’t die of diabetes. So this woman is NOT here for me,” he stated matter of factly.  “Did yours?” he asked, looking at the other man.
“Yes,” the man affirmed.
WOO HOOO! Perfect! Can I sit down now?  
No. Not so fast.  David pressed, “Does she have a message?”
I concentrated on this for a moment,  and then I just started talking. I just felt like I had a story to tell.  It was as if this spirit grandma had just opened up her mind dumped into my head what she wanted to say. “She says when she was alive she would cook these big elaborate meals and everyone would get together and eat and it made her so happy! But now that she’s gone that isn’t happening anymore. You guys don’t get together anymore.”
Dave took control again and asked the follow up to the man, “Do you understand this? Yes or no?” (That’s another part of being evidence based. The person being read just says yes or no, as to not give anything that could be misconstrued as hints to the medium.)
“Yes, ” the man said.
GREAT! We’re done here, right?  “Ask her to share a memory with you,” David prodded me. Argh. I realized I was going to have to wrap this bad boy up myself. (I guess I wouldn’t end a reading with a real client like that, would I?)  I then asked grandma for a memory and was shown her and a young boy standing at a stove. The boy was on a stool so he could reach the pot that grandma was stirring, she trying to teach her grandson the recipes and techniques she used.  I told the man of this vision, and he turned a bit sad as he recounted that she had wanted to teach him to cook, but he was never interested in learning and always wanted to go play outside.  It was only then that I finally utilized my best learned television-medium-techniques of “letting spirit step away” as I told him that she would just like to see them try to get together again, without her, and then thanked him and sat down.
Now. Back to the ghost school in London part of the post. David Scott, medium teacher extraordinare, studied there. (As did another girl in my class that I will tell you about tomorrow – she’s actually going to this same class too! AyYayYay- I have so much to tell- so little wifi.) Anyway, I literally kept hearing this Arthur Findlay school mentioned over and over again, via numerous sources.  So, I decided to finally listen to what Spirit was trying to tell me…  and GO.  And that brings me here. To the Houston Airport. Where I am about to board a plane to ghost school.  🙂
(I’m literally minutes away from getting on this plane -they are boarding already!- so please forgive the hodgepodge and initial spelling and punctuation errors- I will fix those in a bit but wanted to get this out before I hop on a 10 hour flight. ) More to come tomorrow- hopefully lots of pictures and good stories in store!