Tag: channeling

7. Will Paint for “My People”

*(Really quick- before I get into the latest goings on- I just want to sort of set the story straight about being “spiritually stabbed” from my last post. I’ve since heard that story gave a few people the heebie-jeebies and seemed a little frightening.  In hindsight, I probably told the story a little too casually.  So to clarify, I never felt like I was actually being stabbed. The pain in my back was not bad at all, it was just that spirit’s way of letting me know what had happened to him, and certainly wasn’t malicious or evil or scary in any way. To be clear- I have never encountered anything/anyone from the spirit realm that felt even remotely bad, evil, or up to no good.  So far, anyway.)

Alright then- Remember the “Mystical Charms” psychic lady from the store down the road from me? Well, I recently found myself painting her living room. Full on cutting-in, rollers, ladders… the whole deal.  For about three straight hours, in between discussing what part of the wall we may have missed, the lovely Leslie answered every question I could think of about being a psychic medium.

But wait- How did I end up there????  Good question. Thanks for asking.  🙂 Ha!

Last time I blogged-  I wrote about having gone into Leslie’s shop looking for- a mentor, really.  She talked to me for a few minutes- but then basically said she didn’t have time to be a teacher, but that there was spiritual church down the road I should try.  Well… I finally went to that- and I told you I’d tell you about it. You ready for a chuckle?

I showed up at the White Eagle church a few days later in the middle of a weekday afternoon.  I ended up speaking to two lovely older women who seemed interested in what I had to say and why I was there, but not outwardly surprised. They said I needed to talk to the pastor, Jane, but she was unavailable at that moment.  It would be better, they said, if I came back to one of their weekday meditations, and Jane could speak to me afterward.

Now just so we are clear, I had been pinning a lot of hopes on this church. I was crossing every finger that I had found “my people.” I WANTED this to be my answer.  So a few days later I show up around 8:15am, and I am the only vehicle in front of the building. I get out of my car – and what do I hear cutting through the silence of the rural morning? HOWLING WOLVES.  Not one. Not three. Probably not even five. This was MANY MULTIPLE AT LEAST FIVE WOLVES.  HOWLING. (Turns out the founder of the church was also an activist- so the church grounds bordered a wolf sanctuary.)

I proceed to walk into the temple, which is a perfectly round domed room.  As such, the acoustics are… LEGIT. You can hear everything;  A sniffle, a snaffle, a shoe shuffle. (What is a snaffle? I don’t know, but you’d hear it.)  One of the women I had met initially a few days before was sitting in the circle of chairs, eyes closed and already deep in thought- wearing a flowing white robe. She whispered her greetings to me and then politely told me to scoot over, cause that’s where Jane sits.  WHOOPS. I looked around the room for a few minutes nervously while Lady1 would inject a few whispers of explanation of what I was seeing every so often.  Finally, the others showed.  And when I say “others,” I mean two other people. One being the OTHER lady I met a few days ago, and Jane.  All wearing robes.

I tried to shake the Davinci Code vibes and focus on why I was there; To learn how to meditate, and to possibly meet someone who could just tell me what the heck to do. (I also then noticed that I was the only one who hadn’t removed my shoes. Uh Oh. WHOOPSIE again.)

The mediation starts with Lady 1 reading an opening prayer. I couldn’t tell you much of what she was saying- but it was nice, I’m sure.  Lady 1 then starts the mediation. I don’t know what I expected, but it probably wasn’t this.  In our meditation we were led to imagine ourselves walking through beautiful fields to the top of a mountain where we met some very important saints- and then… made our way back down the mountain.  Yes, that’s the overly simplified version. But still, there was no mention of spirit guides, mediumship, or Spirit in the way I was looking for.

When we got down to the bottom of the mountain- there were no further instructions. No- “thank you, we are done.”  No, “see you next week.” No, “how did that make you feel?”  So, I sat there, with my eyes closed, assuming this was now the time for some self reflection and personal mediation.

This is where I should remind you of the acoustics of the room.  You can hear anything right?  Well, maybe not so much. Because after a few minutes of sitting in silence and trying to meditate but at the same time wondering what the heck I’m supposed to be doing next, I do a quick pirate eye to slyly check the room.

AHOY! Gone. They’re all gone. I’m alone.

My stomach drops and all of a sudden I’m really hoping Tom Hanks/Robert Langdon runs into the room and saves me. I actually had to hide my head and let out a “what the F^&*?” chuckle. Right about then I heard a small noise behind the door and caught them peering in at me. I realized they were wondering what the heck I was doing! Oh my.  I quickly met up with everyone (all three! Big crowd!) in the hallway.  I thanked them all and lady 1 mentioned that they would love to see me back and maybe someday I’d wear the robes, too (if I wanted, of course.)

I asked Jane if I could speak to her further while she walked to her office, and we started to talk about what her church does, and what I am looking for. I must say- as much as I have made a little fun of the whole experience- these were lovely women. Jane just glows with kindness- and I really really wish it could have been my landing spot.  I would have taken the robes if it meant I had a clear path.  But it was not to be- Jane explained that while they absolutely believe in all the things I was telling her- that their church did not encourage mediumship.  She explained that the only time they allow themselves messages from “beyond” is during their meditation. Other than that – the protective curtain is drawn, so to speak.

I felt like I was back at square one.  I can’t help grieving people like that, can I?  So this church isn’t a fit- Leslie doesn’t have time for mentorship… Oh but wait! I forgot- I could just go pay for a reading from Leslie, right? And I’ll just use that time to get more info from her!

So off I go- back to Mystical Charms. “Hi! I’d like to set up a reading with Leslie.”

“Ohhh. We aren’t setting up any appointments until after the 10th,” her husband tells me.  (He runs the store while she does the readings) “We have a rental property we have do a lot of work in. Leslie is going to be painting it before the new tenants move in.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Then, LIGHT BULB. “I can paint.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“I can paint! I will go over there and help her paint if she will just talk to me while I’m doing it! Here- I’ll give you my phone number.”

“Uhhh- ok. I’ll give her the message.”

The next afternoon, I got the call.  She gave me her address and two days later- there I was- helping Leslie paint.

I took it all in. 3 hours seemed like 30 minutes.  She reiterated the need for meditation. She taught me what to say to “protect” myself. She even told me what I need to say to my spirit guides, because lately, I haven’t been hearing them.

“Meditate and ask your guides to show you what the next step is.”  Alright, will do.

“Make sure you are listening to what Spirit and your Guides saying because if they are trying to talk to you and you keep on not listening, they may just stop trying.”  Oh no! Ok! Listening! 

“You can’t let EGO get in the way. It’s not about YOU. Ask them for forgiveness if you’ve been putting yourself first.”  Have I? Man, I’ve tried not to. But maybe..? To be sure, you can bet I’m gonna ask for forgiveness.

We went over many things- mostly small little detailed questions- mediums on TV, how different spirits communicate, how spiritualism is a much more accepted thing in Scotland so they can freely talk about it there, and children aren’t taught to suppress their gifts (as much as here, anyway.) One of the more interesting tid-bits for me was when she talked about manipulating energy.  (The medium in Houston talked about this too.) Basically, the simplified version is that you can both put ideas in people heads and also sort of make things happen.  She gave me an excercise to do: light a candle and view it through the reflection of a mirror. Concentrate on the various changing colors of the flame, and then mentally try to view the flame as all one color.  It may take a few tries, but it supposedly teaches you how to start to manipulate energy.  (Yes, I know this is a jump. Just go with me on this one. I’ll let you know when I master it. 🙂

I also asked her about those who are on the other side who had committed suicide. Did she find that there was a period of time where they couldn’t really communicate with her?  I started giving her the example of a woman I had spoke with who’s daughter had died. The mother was unsure if her daughter had taken her own life or if the daughters death was actually at the hands the boyfriend.  (In this instance- I had a very hard time getting any messages from this particular spirit. She had gotten my attention enough that I set up a meeting with her mother- but I never actually heard or saw her. She just basically made me “feel” things.) As I’m telling Leslie this, Leslie stops me with a question and an inquisitive look on her face- “was this recent?”

“Yes.”

“No. The boyfriend didn’t do it.  He could have stopped her, but he didn’t.”

I about jumped out of my skin- “that’s exactly what I told her!”  I was all at once again sad for this mother’s loss, in awe of what I was watching Leslie do, and reassured that what I had told the mother had been correct.  (I have thought about posting that particular story, but it was such an anomaly for me that I was kind of unsure about the whole thing- it was all based on how the daughter’s spirit made me feel- nothing evidential- and I had left it with the mother that we could try again down the line.)

As we were finishing up, Leslie admitted to me that she gets a lot of requests for guidance. That I’d be surprised at how many people walk into her store that have had experiences and don’t know what do about it.  She also told me that normally, she would have never taken me up on my offer, but that “something” told her to call me.   She thanked me more than once for actually doing the work (and not just talking while she painted) and told me she owed me “hours” of mentoring!  YAHOO!

As for today?  I will ask my guides to forgive my ego, ask them to show me the next step, and make damn sure I’m listening to them from now on. But,  I’m wondering if I don’t have this manipulating energy thing down a little bit already… I mean- I did get Leslie to teach me, right? And  I think I may have found my “person.”

4. My first “Reading”

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

She’s a safe bet for my first reading.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you writing?”

“Ummm, just my stuff.”

“Then why’d you close it so fast?”

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

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

My meditation was done for that evening.

***

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

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

***

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

“Yes, I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT?!?!?!!  DUUUUUUUUUUDE.

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

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

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

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

So I tell her exactly what I heard.

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

“Scott is in JAIL.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. Oh wait- lets take a step backward.

Whoops! I went a little out of order.

In doing this blog, one of my main objectives is to tell the story from the beginning.  We have many mediums that we have access to; we can watch them on TV, read their books, listen to their podcasts… but it seems to me like the stories always gloss over the how to’s, and get right to the part about proof and validation.  It’s always the same iteration of “Well I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was ten.  And now I have your grandmother here who is showing me a turquoise watch.”

Then everyone goes, “OOOOOHHHH, my grandma DID have a turquoise watch!”

Meanwhile I’ve been the one yelling at the TV going, “wait WHAT? BACKUP. Tell me about the ghosts! What did they say? What did they look like?”

So that’s the journey I want to take you on. I have NO IDEA where my life will be in a year, two, or ten. I don’t have any desires to be on TV, have people pay to go on cruises with me, or ask anyone to spend $500 for a reading on a two year waiting list.  (Yet, anyway.  *WINK* haha! I’m not knocking it- it’s just not where I’m at.)

I just want to A) continue to learn and have extremely badass spiritual experiences happen (is that too much to ask? 😉 )  and B) to share them when they do.  Really, though, I feel like we are all finding this out together, and sometimes I’m the only one that can see the movie so I just have to tell you all about it as it goes along, you know?

Anyhow, I realized I had another story to tell when after my “coming out” a few days ago, I got a few specific email messages from friends. They were wondering if, when I’m around them, I’ve ever had any “feelings” about their loved ones who have passed away.  Here’s the deal: if you would have asked me that prior to the Henry incident, I would have looked at you like you were nutso.  But now? Well, I’m not so sure.  Let me explain…

Near the end of last year (2015), I attended a swanky party with some old friends. This was just a couple months after the Henry Incident, and I hadn’t yet had any real guidance about the whole situation. I’d discussed it with close friends and family somewhat, but my head was (almost literally) still spinning. At that point, the biggest long term goal I had was to read a few books I’d found on some, again, WEIRD, spiritual internet site.

I hadn’t been at the party very long when in walked a woman who I had known ABOUT, but had never met in real life.  I knew she had lost her sister (again in a very unexpected way) and suffice to say, they had been EXTREMELY close.  We were introduced and all standing around in circle of about, maybe 15 people. Her name was Annie*, and after the introduction, I was standing directly to her right. Within just a few moments of our meeting, I felt my body leaning towards her. I actually wanted to not only touch my arm to hers, but to lean my head on her shoulder!

The whole mental process went quickly. My head was leaning in slowly, but touchdown was approaching fast!  I had to overcome the deep desire to physically comfort this woman, with the absolute knowledge that this would be a bad scene for me.  (Our direct circle was of 15 people, but that was inside a PARTY of, oh I don’t know… 200?)  I remember pulling away from her defiantly and giving myself an internally stern “No! This cannot happen right now!”  I stood up straight and moved over a few inches and tried to rejoin the conversation.   Of course I didn’t hear a thing anyone was saying.  My head felt like a radio trying to tune in. That’s the only sound I could hear.  (I don’t even know how to spell that phonetically?! WHHHEEEEEOHHHHHHHH WHHEEEOOHHH? But take out the fluctuating “ZEEEOUUUS” of radio tuning and add more crackle. Makes perfect sense, right?)  All I could envision was a repeat of the Henry scene, but now in front of 200 people I didn’t know!  Me- sobbing hysterically in the bar? A crowd of people standing around wondering what was happening?  NUUU UHH!

I just needed to get away from her, I figured.  (To be clear, I now have the privilege of 20/20 hindsight. I don’t know at what point I was finally convinced this was a spirit and not me just being weird… but it certainly took a while.  And remember, I had yet to talk to the weird medium in Houston from the previous post, so I didn’t yet have the tools to try to channel Annie’s sister any differently.) I made a beeline for the lobby and sat down in one of those swallow you up chairs that was tucked in a hidden corner and again tried to re-ground myself.  Deep breathing, eyes closed… This was the point when I started entertaining the idea of pulling Annie aside to tell her… tell her WHAT? Good God how do I explain this?  I knew it was either that or I leave the party, which I would have gladly done, but then I struggled with, “If it was my sister, wouldn’t I want to know?”  I even actually started telling Annie’s sister, “Listen- I would love to help you but I don’t know how the heck to navigate this. You can’t just make me feel weird! You have to give me something to tell her.”

Having calmed myself down a bit, (and knowing people were going to start looking for me) I took a few more deep breaths, got some food and a soda water (Not wine! Gotta be clear headed for messages!) and made my way to a table to eat, AWAY from the bar.   Lo and behold guess who comes and sits down at the table to eat her food?  Yep. Annie.   She didn’t sit right next to me-  It was a large circular table and she was on the other side- but man did I feel her presence.

Another friend’s husband was seated next to me and he was politely making small talk, “So how have you been? What are you guys doing nowadays?”  Well, anyone who knows me knows that I have TONS to tell, and I love to talk!  I have three kids who all do amazing things and an awesome husband who is opening up a golf course with Tee Dub!   I mean, C’MON! Where do I start, right?  So I answer with,
“fine. Not much.”

All the while I keep shifting my eyes towards Annie. The anxiety was really kicking in now, so I excused myself as best I could and made a beeline for the bathroom… or the exit. I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up.  On my way out I passed my girlfriend who I had come with.  She was talking to another friend but noticed me and paused her conversation to ask where I was headed. I tried to make some neutral sign like I was just heading to the bathroom,  but I just burst into tears instead.  I had lost it- I didn’t know WHAT to do at that moment.

The two girls followed me up the stairs where I proceed to tell them what was happening. I had told my friend about the Henry incident, but we didn’t discuss it enough for me to be convinced that SHE was convinced.  Again, I come at her with, “Remember that thing I told you about? Well it’s happening again.” (This is my new tagline, apparently.) We go back and forth about the ramifications and the what ifs (Should we tell Annie? Is she open to this? Will she freak?) and I finally just make a decision: “Yes. Go get her.”

I don’t know what my friend said or how she approached her, but within two minutes, Annie was being led up the stairs to me wide-eyed and with trepidation.  I must also note that Annie seems beautiful, graceful, gentle… the kind of girl that at the get-go makes me feel like a big bounding puppy.  Which just made this even more nerve wracking.  She could tell I had been crying, and I nervously laughed through my tears and just said, “Can I talk  to you for a minute?” We walked into a separate rarely used women’s lounge and sat down at a table.  Nervous and anxiety riddled, I blathered on about the Henry story, trying to tell it in as few words as possible as to not lose my new audience in the rambling.  “So I had this thing happen and now from the moment I met you your sister will not let up! Every time I get close to you it’s like this electrical current and I can’t think of anything else! I thought of just leaving but I couldn’t imagine having your sister trying so hard to communicate with you and me not telling you about it, but I don’t really have a message I just know she’s here.”

Annie smiled and was calmly reassuring to me, “It’s ok.” I don’t remember exactly, but she even added something about being into this stuff. She told me she was on a waiting list to see the Long Island Medium.

“Oh wow! Ok!” I was so relieved to know she was open to what was happening. I explained to her that I really have no idea what the heck I’m doing but…I guess maybe I could hold her hand and see if I can get anything?

So that’s what I did. I took her hands, closed my eyes, and tried to quiet my brain.  I know I “got” a couple of things, but I still wasn’t sure what I was hearing wasn’t just me making stuff up.  Remember how I said the women’s lounge was rarely used? Yeah, well, tonight I had a parade of lounge goers. Some of them were there just by coincidence, others had noticed the commotion and tried to pretend they, too, were just there for a break as they passed by.  Needless to say, I certainly wasn’t feeling comfortable to sit there holding Annie’s hand in silence for very long.  (I’ve also since learned that stress is one of the biggest blocks. And of course, this was a stressful situation for me!) I must have waded through it because I remember telling Annie, “She loves you. And she misses you and the kids.”

I tried to explain once again that while I could sense her sister was there, I just didn’t really know what the message was.  Yet as I told her this- my whole… whats the word… self? Focus? Attitude? I don’t know that I can explain it. Something shifted. It was like all of a sudden the anxiety washed away and Annie’s sister made me feel that this was all she was asking for. She was perfectly content with me holding Annie’s hand, looking into her eyes, and Annie KNOWING that she was there.

And that’s exactly what I told Annie, hoping it was enough.  Annie replied, and I knew I had done the right thing. “Wednesday is the anniversary of my sister’s death. I have a really rough week ahead. And this is going to make it a lot easier.”

I knew then, this was no coincidence. We hugged and I told her if I ever figured this medium thing out, I’d get in touch with her to make sure we “got” it all.  I walked back downstairs and rejoined the party- all the anxiety (and mascara) now absolutely gone.

(Quick note: When I rejoined the party, another old friend approached me and gave the “whats the deal?” look.  Not having the mental energy to make anything up, I unenthusiastically said something like, “Weellllll, I had this experience recently with this kid jumping into my body to talk to his mom and now I’m kind of getting some of those vibes tonight.”

She answers, “Oh GIRRRRL, that’s nothing. I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was six.”

Yeah, we’ll come back to that one soon.)

Now that I’ve told that story, back around to what made me think of it: the emails from my friends asking if I’ve ever felt “things” around them.  Well, here’s what I figured out. If I had been in that same situation WITHOUT the Henry incident to go on- I would have written the whole party night experience off as random anxiety. The uneasiness would have probably made me go full introvert and leave early, or even more probable, drink!  Three glasses of wine will certainly (unknowingly) put Spirit in it’s place! (FYI, Now that I’m all medium-y I like to capitalize ‘Spirit’.) Anyway, I certainly wouldn’t have had the catalogue to even contemplate that it might be spiritual energy.

So have I felt weird around friends? Maybe! But if I did, I didn’t know well enough to know what was making me feel that way, and I probably either left, or (again, lets be real here) drank with you.   Odds are, there have been numerous situations where a spirit was trying to grab my attention, but I never took notice until two of them, 15 years apart, basically hit me over the head with a cast iron skillet ghost whomp.

Do I have a few more stories to catch you up to where I am today? Yes. And the next one I’m gonna tell you is so badass it gives me the chills and the willies at the same time.  But in terms of where I’m at in my learning, at this very moment, I am in the same place as when I left that party. I’m really just trying to intercept messages before they become… frying pans.