Tag: mediums

Signs

Signs

My dad, John Kampsen, could have been president, I swear. He’s the kind of guy that not only is well read, but he will engage in conversation so passionately that it makes you feel…important! He always remembers names, from the whole church congregation to the local gas station attendant. People WANT to be friends with him! He’s a helluva fit 73 years, and will randomly break into Thai chi while asking about your family. Or he may grab a guitar and play one of the finest versions of “twinkle twinkle little star” you’ve ever heard for the kids. He’s magnetic.

The problem is, everyone wants a piece of him, and rarely does anyone get it for long. My grandma, when she was alive, would spend much of our phone calls passive-aggressively mentioning that she hadn’t heard from my dad in months, or that my dad wasn’t coming over for Christmas that year. I would always tell her, “Welcome to the club, Gram!” Although it was probably just as much the other way around; me complaining and her trying to make me feel better by sharing that she, too, was out of the ‘Dad loop.’

Side note: If you’ve followed along with me from the get-go here, you may remember that my dad is also the person that wholeheartedly thinks I’m going to hell for doing mediumship. (I’m SURE he’d argue the semantics of that statement, but that’s the gist.) I remember one time I was so excited to have had another medium explain to me that Jesus himself was a prophet and spoke with the other side- and I excitedly called my dad thinking this would finally be the ticket; our two worlds ARE compatible! Crushingly, his reply was, “you think you’re the same as JESUS?!?!”

The point is, I want more of my Dad. I’ve always wanted more. More phone calls, more visits, more anything. It’s a weird thing to go though life angry that you don’t get enough of a person. It tends to make you feel like you aren’t enough. His passion for cacti and planting is almost certainly why I have way too many potted plants on my windowsills. His love of music is probably why I wanted to learn every instrument I could get my hands on. I wanted to connect with him.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen often.

And even more unfortunately, my dad now has really aggressive leukemia.

*******

A few days ago, I had a reading with a young college aged girl. The only thing I knew going into it was that her name is Devon. Come to find out, she lost her older brother, Nick, when she was in high school. It was a wonderful reading, even if I was feeling a bit rusty, because he gave small bits of evidence that, even if it was just a word to me- “Baseball”- Devon would smile and know exactly what he was talking about.

At the end of the reading, Devon’s brother showed me the book “Signs” by Laura Lynn Jackson. I’ve had this book since it came out in 2019, but it’s the first time it has popped up in a reading. I knew he wanted her to read it because he was really going to step up his “sign game” for her, but also wanted to make sure she would recognize when it was happening.

Within a day or two, Devon had already texted me that she’d gotten a sign. She was at a concert and witnessed the exact same scenario I had described in the reading about a guy with curly hair. At the time, we didn’t know what it meant. She offered, “It’s probably my dad, he has curly hair.”

“No, that doesn’t feel right,” I told her. All I was seeing was an outline, but I knew this curly haired guy was younger. I assumed it was a friend of Nick’s, but Devon couldn’t place it.


At the concert, though, as soon as Devon saw this man’s outline, she noticed he was wearing the same logo-ed brand of clothing her brother wore “all the time, but I haven’t seen since.”

“It’s a
terrible picture, but it
made me very happy.”- Devon

It seems so simple –it’s just a kid in a shirt– but I always stress to people, don’t let your own expectations (and just as importantly other’s expectations) dictate what constitutes a sign. Trust that “ting” that you feel! That “ting” is coming from something other than you. Don’t make the mistake of getting a sign that you KNOW deep down IS a sign, and then go “well if it’s REALLY you… blink the lights twice” or something just as silly. It doesn’t work like that. Learn to trust when you get a sign. And remember you dont have to explain (prove) it to anyone. Your connection to your loved one in spirit is as real (and private!) as you want it to be.

****

In the few days after my reading with Devon, I was talking to my sister, Laurel, on the phone. Laurel is a nurse, and thus is familiar with the terms and meds and all the things that are going on with my dad while he goes through chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, and now… Leukemia. This is all in the past year. He and his wife retired, thinking they would finally get to do some traveling in their golden years, and as he put it it, ‘Then Covid hit… and then… Cancer.”

That morning my dad’s wife, Toni, had started texting us updates again. We already knew the cancer was back, but now his picc line to get the next round of chemo was infected. Dad couldn’t seem to catch a break and was back in the hospital. Laurel wondered aloud if she should get in her car and drive to Detroit. She lives in Virginia, so it’s not a quick jaunt, to say the least. She asked if I wanted to get a plane ticket and meet her there. But, we had doubt about going… “dad’s immune system… will the hospital let us in?… will dad and Toni feel burdened with us being there?” We agreed to reassess in the morning.

I then filled Laurel in on the reading with Devon. (Laurel is my biggest Small Medium fan, so I tend to go right to her with all the details. It’s the ONE thing in life that she defers to me for- spiritual guidance- so I usually tell her what I’m reading, what mediations I’m doing, etc.) I quickly mentioned I had seen the book “Signs” as a message. Laurel thanked me for reminding her, as she had the book on her shelf, too, and could see from where she was that it has a bookmark in it, and thus she needed to finish it.

And then we hung up.

I’m telling you, not four minutes later, I get this text from Laurel. She had taken down the Signs book to do a little reading, and this is the page it opened up to. THIS IS WHERE THE BOOKMARK WAS.

This is Laura Lynn Jackson’s book. Here she is talking about *her* dad, John. That *their* relationship was difficult. That *he* played guitar all the time. Laurel and I may have well written this paragraph!!!

After our heads stopped spinning, we both concluded that this indeed was a sign for us. But, what did it mean? Should we drop everything and get to Michigan? Again, we decided to sleep on it and see how we felt the next morning.

The next day, I called Laurel. Our dad was, of course, still in the hospital. “Should we go?” After mulling it over, we decided to wait. Clearly we’d gotten a sign, but did it mean to leave now? Or just that our Dad is up against an unbeatable competitor and we should start planning? What we didn’t want to do was project a sense of urgency to my dad and his wife, and worry them anymore than they already were.

If this was the end of my story, one would tend to think that it was pretty good in and of itself. “What a cool sign!” But NOOOOOOO. Spirit always has another trick up their sleeve!

Within an hour of the phone call with my sister, I received a text from a woman I sort of recently met, Amy. She’s a friend of my cousin, and I met her and her family when they all vacationed together in Austin last year. In chatting with her, we realized we were both into the “woo woo” stuff and have kept in touch every once in a while since. Well, I hadn’t heard from Amy in a few months at least, but that day she sent me this message:

Yeah. If my head was spinning before, it was now rolling down the hallway.

I quickly sent Amy a message back, going “You’re not gonna believe this but…” and I filled her in on what had transpired so far. “I dont wanna spoil anything but late in the book the author talks about her dad, John dying, which is my dads name and…” I gave her the whole rundown.

Let’s also revisit the fact that this book was released three years ago! Its not like it just came out and we are all reading a current NYT bestseller.

I FaceTimed my sister right then basically screaming, “you’re not gonna believe this!” And as we rehashed the whole crazy story, I get a new voice memo from Amy, in which she said:

“Well, Holly, it is a sign for you and Laurel to go to Michigan because when you popped in my head that’s what I was reading. The part about Laura Lynn Jackson’s dad John who is dying. That’s the chapter I was reading when I got the sign to text you and show you the book… fucking weird ass shit, dont you think?!” (That last part is why I really get along with Amy.)

I dont even know what to write here. All I feel is stunned silence. My jaw can’t drop any more. My eyes can’t open any wider. I am just in absolute…. awe. Just when I think Spirit is done stepping up their game with me, VOILA! It’s unreal.

But is isn’t. It’s REAL.

****

I’m a little embarrassed to admit… so far, the wrap up to this story is fairly anti-climactic.

*Sigh*

We have NOT left for Michigan yet.

I know, I know. It seems like I’m not taking my own advice about trusting signs. The thing is, I KNOW its a sign. I’m just not sure it was a sign saying, “get in the car RIGHT NOW.” God, I hope its not, because I’m still sitting at my desk in Texas while my dad is 1,432 miles away. I AM preparing, though. I’m calling my dad more often, I’m saying “I love you” at the end of every call, and I’ve asked him to please let me know when he is OK with me coming out. I told him I will hop on a plane tomorrow if he gives me the go-ahead. I also know that this sign I received is probably just as much of a “don’t listen to him, go anyway” as anything. John Kampsen is as stubborn as he is magnetic, and I can’t imagine the time will ever be “just right” for him to green light our trip. There will always be something.

Maybe, just maybe, the sign here is telling me I just need to take what I need finally, which is time with my dad, John.

Ghost School- Round Two

Ghost School- Round Two

“Get a communicator.”

These were the instructions uttered to me by super-medium Chris Drew as I stood in front of 15 classmates. He wanted to me connect to the spirit world in an instant, and see who had come to chat for this exercise. Up to a week ago, these words would have crippled me into a ball of anxiety, but this time, I simply closed my eyes for a few seconds, and replied, “I have a man.”

“He feels like a cousin or a friend,” I continued, “and now he’s standing in front of me. He’s thin and wore black clothes, kind of like what we would call ’emo” dressing.” (I was quite proud of myself.)

“Well was he a cousin or a friend?” the teacher prodded.

Wha? I have to narrow this down right away? I went back into my zone. I had to see which one seemed more natural to me… which of those choices “felt” right. I confidently stated, “He was a friend.”

“Ok. Now go direct.” Chris was now asking me to feel out which person in the small classroom audience this person was here for. I scanned the room slowly until I felt my eyes quickly darting back to a 30-something year old guy in the room. I started to give this man some more of the traits of the spirit. They were minor details, but the guy looked perplexed; this information was NOT resonating with him.

The teacher cut in to guide me, “So if the information doesn’t seem to be flowing naturally, you’re probably with the wrong person. See if anyone else in the audience can take that information.”

I asked the audience if any of them knew a man like I was describing. Two people raised their hands. One was a quiet woman in my class, and the other… Chris Drew, THE TEACHER. (Seriously?)

Chris coddled me along, “Again, repeat the information you have to each of us, and as you do, feel into who seems like the recipient you should be with.”

I repeated what I had to Chris, giving the information like bulletpoints.

“This was a male friend.”

“Ok,” the teacher confirmed.

“He didn’t have a lot of friends- you were very special to him. You treated him with kindness.”

“Yes, I can take that.”

“You met in your twenties.”

“Yes, we did. Now go to their other person that raised their hand and see how it feels when you tell it to them.”

I turned to the quiet woman and started to speak, “This was a male friend,” but as a I said the last word I knew in my gut this wasn’t for her. I felt pulled to turn back around to the teacher. “I’m so sorry but this is not for you. I need to go back to Chris,” I told her apologetically. It was as stereotypical of a “gut feeling” as I can tell you. That was how I’d describe it. I just KNEW.

I proceeded to tell Chris the details his friend was giving me- about how he’d felt jealousy as he watched those around him move on in life while he felt stuck. About how he’d felt rage when he was abandoned by his parents. (“ABANDONED” actually flashed in my mind as a written word when the spirit conveyed this to me.) This exercise in particular was about feeling emotions, so the spirit that came through did just that for me. He had me feel his rage, his jealousy, end even his empathy. We ended on a high note as Chris confirmed all of it and said that his buddy comes through quite often to help with teaching.

Me with Chris Drew

Arthur Findlay College in Stanstead, England

This story is quite representative of what I did ALL week at Arthur Findlay college, the place I lovingly refer to as “ghost school.” I went for a 7 day class at the end of November, leaving the day after Thanksgiving straight for London. (Did I say straight? It wasn’t even REMOTELY straight. I flew Dallas to Chicago, Chicago to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Copenhagen, Copenhagen to London. And if you’re following along on a map, that was the opposite of time efficient traveling. But, BUT- it only cost me 30K miles, so…)

I basically just want to recount some of the little stories and events that happened to me that week that I really want to remember, so don’t mind the “messiness” of this post. It’s likely to skip around quite a bit.

That said, let’s skip, shall we?

Super-medium Chris Drew actually set this course up. So it was him and a few other super-mediums teaching all week. When we arrived on campus, Chris interviewed us individually to see who’s class we’d fit in to. It’s sort of a long story, but let me just say, the gods were WITH me when I landed Lynn Probert as my main teacher. In fact, Chris was initially a bit worried about putting me in her group. (Backstory: this class was advertised as “no absolute beginners.”) “Everyone else in that group is a working medium,” he told me. “Im afraid you’ll feel like you’re in over your head and get discouraged.”

My mouth may have spoken, “I’ll be fine,” but my insides churned with insecurity.

***

Our session with Lynn on the first night was mostly just introductions and her assessing where we were with our mediumship. I was relieved when almost all of my classmates echoed the same concerns I had. I learned that “lack of confidence” rears its head for even the most practiced mediums. Also, a few of them seemed to be in the same boat I was- they were practicing mediumship (with other mediums) but not PRACTICING mediumship (as in giving readings to actual clients.) Whew! Because of this, I didn’t feel so bad in admitting to Lynn that I wasn’t even confident in the most basic of mediumship: establishing a contact. I mean, I knew I could do it, but like I’ve explained before, it is maddeningly subtle, and sometimes (meh, MOST, times) it can feel like I’m just making it up.

Lynn sat with me and gave me what was probably my most important lesson of the whole trip. I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like, “Sit quietly, expand your aura all around you. Then instead of looking for someone to communicate with, let them come to you. See who joins you.”

And by golly- it worked.

The first time, there was no mistaking a man who arrived as a small rectangle of energy at the top left of my head. Later that day it was a woman who came in to the lower right. It was an “aha!” moment that I’m sure I will continue to use as long as I’m doing this work.

Me and my tutor Lynn Probert after my “Spiritual assessment”

One of the things I find fascinating about mediumship is the variances in which Spirit “does their thing.” From how they arrive, (right? Left? Full body visual? Just a face? In the same pose as an old photograph?) to how they give their information (a picture? A feeling? A word spelled out?) Spirit arriving in my aura turned out to be no different… that is, pretty much different every time.

For example, the third day of class, one of our exercises was to stand up and do a “mini demonstration.” We were to get into groups of four where one of us stands up and does a reading for the other three. (We wouldn’t know who it’s for, of course, until the recipient “claimed” their person.) I stood up and gave myself a few seconds to just feel who might come forward, and as I did, a small little older man just walked right into the back of my body. Yep, just like the movies! Just stepped right up and in. And from this, I knew he was small in stature. (I’m almost 5’2, and he pretty much fit right in with my height.) In fact, in one fell swoop I knew what he looked like, what he was wearing, and who he was. I ended up doing a very successful reading for a woman from her father. It was so fun!

Our week was back to back exercises, each one being just a bit different. The thought is that the Spirit world knows exactly what we are doing and wants to help in each instance, so they will give us the information we ask for. Remember how the first reading I mentioned was about getting emotions from the Spirit communicator? Well, we also did one where we were to start the reading with only a place. We had to describe things like climate and vacations.

Another one, and actually one of my more memorable readings, was where we were to try to hold something, or have the spirit make us actually FEEL something in our grasp. This could feasibly be feeling the petals of a flower, the edges of a diamond ring, or in my case… the burning and breaking of the Spirit’s hands.

(Yes, I know this is serious stuff, but as I type this out I cant help but think of a recurring Saturday Night Live skit where three people are abducted by aliens. Each time, two of them have beautiful life affirming experiences, but Kate McKinnon’s character tells government agents the tales of, ahem, other things that happen to her.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kELDEdMbkyg

So while others were feeling the brush of a child’s cheek, or the texture of a mother’s scarf, my hands were on fire. Ha! (I know that sounds scary, but it wasn’t actually painful.) The reading started with a few details just so the woman knew it was her male cousin coming through. I then told her I could feel burning on my hands, a detail she didn’t understand. I tried to feel it again and I could tell it felt like some sort of chemical burn on my skin. He had “died in an accident,” she told me, information she offered up because she wasn’t making a connection with what I was feeling. I felt back into it and actually had a quick visual of bones in my forearms and hands being broken. I received the information and told her this was an automobile accident and that he was the only one involved, which she confirmed.

Closing my eyes again, I saw a tree. I got a quick knowing that he had hit it, but I felt uneasy giving such a specific piece of information that could SO EASILY be wrong. (This is why I have to practice! I need confidence, people!) I finally decided to go with it: “Did he hit a tree?” I asked her. She confirmed he had. (My insides scream, “He DID hit a tree?! What are the CHANCES!?” I wanted to jump out of the chair and start high fiving the whole class- which, to clarify, would have BEEN THE WRONG THING TO DO.) I still had a mystery to figure out, though, so again I asked this spirit cousin for more information. He let me know that the impact from the tree and the steering wheel caused his hands and forearms to break, and that there was a fire in the car that he couldn’t escape from. I hated to relay this information to her, but I did so as gently as possible. As it turned out, she couldn’t confirm many more details of the crash or his injuries. But I knew they were correct, and Spirit had amazed me yet again by working with me on a specific exercise, allowing me to “feel” with my hands, even when it wasn’t pertinent to their loved one.

*****

Also, I’m changing my answer. The ACTUAL biggest thing I took from my week at intermediate ghost school?

“JUST SAY IT.”

I usually spend so much time in my own head working through the information that spirit gives me, trying to make it fit in a pattern I understand. Like the tree example I just talked about. I sat there for ten too many seconds wondering if the information “sounded” plausible. But the thing is, I dont have to understand it. The only person that needs to understand what the spirit is saying is the person I am reading for.

I’ll give you a quick example of this- where I wanted to kick myself after a reading, in which if I had just said what I’d been shown, the sitter would have understood the message. Early on in the week, I was exchanging readings with one of my new friends and classmates. I brought through her Grandmother, who showed me a purple stone. I was describing the stone to my friend and asked if she knew what this was. She told me that she did indeed have a purple stone, but that it had nothing to do with her grandmother. Both of us confused, I looked back into it. Immediately, the Grandmother showed me herself handing this purple stone to my friend’s young daughter.

BUT I DIDN’T SAY THAT.

All I told my friend was, “Your grandmother is bringing my attention to your daughter now.” Again, we were both a bit perplexed. When our time was up, my friend told me what the purple stone was. Turns out, she has a purple stone at her house, and the day before she was leaving her daughter pointed it out and asked her mom to bring her back “one of these.”

So, we had BOTH just spent ten minutes trying to figure out what the heck I was talking about, and the answer was right there for the taking all along. Grandma was gifting a stone to her granddaughter- and I didn’t mention it. (This actually WAS an instance where I stood up in the class frustrated with myself and way too loudly exclaimed, “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING me!)

***

Aside from the amazing new people in my spiritual circle, Mediumship school was a chance for me to get these experiences in rapid succession, for a whole week, with almost no downtime in between. That, of course, is the exact opposite of what happens when I’m at home, which keeps me feeling like I’m never in the groove.

So… how do I remedy that? By finally opening up for readings. And I figured I’d put it out there to those that are interested in my adventures first, the blog readers!

Interested? Dont worry about location. Through a lot of practice, I’ve found that online readings via Facetime (or Zoom) are just as good as in person (Spirit knows how to work it!) If you trust me to try to bring through your loved one, I’m up for giving it a go. I’ve set aside a few times each week and will continue this for a couple months. Send me an email and we can try to set something up: Hollypaulson@mac.com. Let’s do this, together!

***

Not sure if I’ve mentioned it before but you know how some people see recurring numbers/times? Well, oddly enough mine is 9/11. I’m always seeing some version of that- and spirit always makes sure I look at the clock at that time. (My birthday is 9/12, so you’d think it would have been those numbers- but… it isn’t.) Anyway- I was heading home from London Heathrow -having my last true English breakfast at the airport (back bacon RULES,) when I had the grand idea of using the rest of the UK cash I had and just putting the rest on my credit card. I dumped it all out on the table and painstakingly counted it. (Takes forever when you don’t know what’s what!)

Guess how much I had? Exactly 9 pounds and 11 pence. And that was the SECOND time I said out loud, “You’ve got to be KIDDING me.”

UPDATE: EEK! It has been brought to my attention that the change in the image actually equals “£7.13p. The brown 2 you have gathered with the £1 coins is a 2p not a £2.” (RATS! I told you counting this wasn’t easy.)
So yes, I counted wrong, But I STILL think Spirit had something to do with this. What I didn’t write earlier was that originally I had emptied my purse of all the change and it only totaled (what I thought was) £9.01. I didn’t think anything of it. But, two minutes later I went back into my purse for something, and lo’ and behold, in the pocket that I had JUST cleaned out was a 10p piece. Call it a stretch if you want, but I really do think Spirit went, “this silly girl thinks that’s £9.01. Let’s give her another 10p to really flip her out.” I’m telling you it was as if that dime appeared out of nowhere. So I’m sticking to my story. The only thing I feel bad about is that the poor waitress was bilked out of 2 quid!

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.”