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!

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.”

A Summers day with Summer

Things have been going. Nothing crazy, but not necessarily nothing either. I’m currently on a plane flying to see my sister in Charlottesville, and with a few hours to myself, I can finally write down a few of the spirit happenings that have happened as of late.  I haven’t been inspired to share much-  But I was probably becoming a bit too complacent with not having any more big experiences, although now I can realize that I haven’t been seeing the beauty of the little things…

Last month, I got a random Facebook friend request from a lovely looking woman named Summer. I checked her profile out, though, and realized we didn’t have any mutual friends… I figured it was some spam deal and denied the request.

The next morning, I now had a message from this Summer gal, saying we had a common friend that said we should meet because we shared some of the same “gifts.” Exciting, yes, but usually when I meet people who say that, their experiences are a little less… concrete, if you will. And that’s ok, I love telling my story, but as I’ve written before- I’ve also been looking for someone I can learn from.
Summer called me right away after I gave her my number. So quickly, in fact, that I showed my husband the incoming call and had the face of “ugh, do we have to do this NOW?” I figured I’d have at least a few hours to think of all the other things I had to do than meet up with a stranger. As he and I looked at each other wide eyed- he suddenly leans over and touched the “answer call” button on my phone screen. Funny guy, that one.

“Hiiiii!” I said with a faked smile. By the end of our conversation, though, the smile was genuine. I wish I could remember and tell you all the cool stuff she shared. She’s like this bundle of confidence and knowledge, and seems to always have some profound saying up her sleeve, ready to pull it out when it’s most needed. “Until you make your subconscious conscious, it will rule your life and you will call it fate,” she proclaimed effortlessly. “Carl Jung said that.” Oh, but she said this when we met for lunch. Yeah, we moved quickly.

Basically, she does what I’m trying to do, but better. I say that because she doesn’t question it. When the info comes to her, she believes it (and sometimes repeats it) without hesitation. She also SEES spirit, which is what happened when her mother was dying from leukemia. She told me the story of when her mother was very ill in a hospital bed earlier this year. Every movement was painful, and she could no longer speak. Summer was sitting next to her mothers bedside when her mom raised her arm and pointed away across the bed. “What do you need? Do you want some water? What can I get you?” she asked, frustrated that she couldn’t seem to help her. Summer said this happened a few times, but she just couldn’t figure it out. Well, a little while later, Summer’s mom started again, but this time, when Summer looked to where she was pointing, she saw… her mother.

Yes. Let’s just pause there for a second.

Her mother’s spirit was now standing bedside, glowing from the light emanating around it. Summer described her as completely healthy again: a head full of hair, bright skinned, and smiling.
She told Summer to please tell her husband that he was making the right decision (they had recently decided to withhold any more treatment) and somehow let Summer know that she wanted to be cremated, not buried (Summer had been struggling with how to proceed once she died.) Summer said she knew at that point that her mothers soul was already prepared to leave the physical body for good, and she was comforted to know that her mom was returning to the vibrant being she was before Leukemia. Her mom died three days later.

Summer told me that one of her biggest fears was that she wouldn’t “feel” her mom around anymore once she died, but that fear was quickly alleviated. She said she does feel her around quite a bit, and that her mom actually showed up to lunch one day! Apparently, Summer was having lunch with a woman who’s mother had also passed, and the two mothers had been friends in life as well. Summer explained that she and her friend were lunching when the two mothers decided to join them. Summer told the girl, “our moms are sitting right here!” Summers mom asked her to give a message to the girlfriend: “please take care of my baby.” (Meaning Summer.) The girlfriend’s jaw dropped as she said, “you’re kidding me! I had a dream two nights ago where your mom came to me and said EXACTLY that, ‘please take care of my baby!’”

Anyway, Summer is a badass. When we met up for lunch we literally chatted for hours. Even after it seemed like we had discussed it ALL, I still kept wracking my brain for something to talk about- something to keep her there. She helped me work through some of the worries I have about this whole process: Am I doing it right? Am I doing it ENOUGH? Should I be afraid!? The best thing I took from our conversation was that is is MY journey, and everyone’s is different, and I need to stop stressing out about it! She explained that “Meditation is an awareness. Give thanks, ask for guidance, use it to re-center,” and then added, “Gratitude is fuel.”
“What you move towards moves towards you.” Seriously, I just want to fold her up and put her in my pocket.

Here’s the fun part… for me anyway. After a few months of not really feeling spirit around, I wasn’t disheartened, but certainly not as enthusiastic about… my skill set. As we were chatting, and out of the blue, Summer quickly slides a ring off of her finger- puts it in my palm- and instructs me, “tell me what you get!”
“Ummmmmm, uhhh!” I didn’t see this coming from fifty miles away, but at the same time, I had been intrigued by the prospect of Psychometry, (which is basically getting your “vibes” from an object) after watching the Hollywood Medium kid do it week after week on TV. 🙂
I closed my eyes and before the ego part of my brain took over,  you’re in a crowded restaurant! You can’t do this here!, two things quickly popped into my head: “grandma” and “rose.” I sat there for about a minute after that, listening and feeding the ego brain, what if I’m wrong? How can I get more info? I can’t. I’m not cut out for this. Oh man, what the hell am I doing here, when I just put the ring back in her hand and said, “yeah… I dunno. All I got was Grandma and Rose.”
“Well, you’re half right,” Summer smiled, “it was my grandmothers ring. But her name wasn’t Rose.”
Oddly enough, I was all of a sudden more confident about what I’d “heard.” “Rose wasn’t necessarily a name, it was more like a symbol,” I told her. I had actually seen a rose at the same time I heard it… just a single white rose.

“A symbol? I wonder what it means? I think it’s something religious!” Summer and I spent the next 15-20 minutes googling and trying to figure out what “rose” meant. She came to the conclusion that it was a sign for me about religion and allowing it to creep into my life a bit more. I wasn’t as convinced, and wrote in my notebook, “Rose symbol? – Jesus?”


Summer then moved on to how this whole meeting came about. Our friend, Carol, whom we have in common, was dear friends with Summer’s mother, and she was the one who suggested we meet. “So Carol came over to my house after my mom died. She brought me a painting- Did you know Carol was a painter!?!- she brought me this beautiful painting of a rose and….”

I didn’t hear what she said after that. My eyes went into saucer mode and I dramatically laid down on the bench I’d been sitting on as if to underscore the gravity of this. It took her a second…. “oh my god that’s it!!!!!”

We sat there stunned and laughing for a few minutes, with Summer kicking herself she hadn’t figured this out sooner. She finally explained that Carol had brought her a painting- She pulled up a picture on her phone as she explained that there was a big bouquet of roses on her mothers casket. Before she showed me the picture- I said, “what color was the rose?”


“Yes!! I saw a white rose!!!!
She then showed me the image- it was a beautiful, very large bouquet of WHITE roses on her mothers casket. But… it was a whole bunch of white roses- and what I saw in my head was only ONE. Maybe a small detail, but I had this quick thought pop in of, that’s not what I saw.

As if on cue, she takes the phone back, messes around with the screen, then hands it back to me with the picture now zoomed onto one single rose near the bottom of the bouquet, “and THIS is the one Carol painted for me.”

I will be having lunch with her again. 🙂
Also, I went to another medium class last weekend and I’m itching to write down what happened and what I learned! That’s coming up next!