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!

It’s basic science, my dear!

It’s basic science, my dear!

Well, well well. It’s been a while, that’s for sure.

Since we last chatted, I’ve driven and moved across half the country, started my daughter in a new high school (and taught her to drive! EEK), taken my middle son back to college, and married off my oldest son. Truth is, I haven’t made a lot of time for Spirit. That’s not to say Spirit-y things haven’t been happening, but I also haven’t been as inclined to then share them either.

I usually get inspired by a reading or learning something new about the Spirit world and want to share it, but that didn’t happen, and I had spent the better part of the last year feeling like I was failing myself and my “audience.” That is until I came across a particular paragraph on a Facebook page for mediums I’m a part of. Of course, I promptly misplaced it, but it went something like this, (in a much more eloquent style, of course):

‘I haven’t been sharing everything because I needed it to be just for me for a while. I needed to experience these things without the filter of how I was going to retell the story.’

Something like that anyway. You get the gist. I realized I needed to be able to have the mediumship learning experience and not necessarily self-reflect in real time. I needed to get to the 20/20 of the hindsight. (Also meaning, I don’t feel bad anymore for ignoring writing. Ha!) I do have some fun things to share soon enough, but first…

I’ve really been holding back on you.

Last time we chatted I was telling you all about Joseph, my newfound Spirit guide. The thing is, I didnt tell everything. There was a pretty big portion of that “vision” that I left out. I didn’t think you were ready for it… or, maybe I didn’t think I was ready for the murmurs of, “ok, NOWWWWE’VE lost her. WHOA.”

In time, I shared my info with a few people, and the more and more I did, the more I learned that what I saw wasn’t so exactly out of the ordinary. That the idea actually existed in some religions even. And before you say, “Kalachakra? What are you talking about, lady?” Let’s recap.

As I shared in my last blog post, I was in a deep meditation last year when my Spirit Guide, Joseph, introduced himself to me. First, he showed me a past life where I was male and was dying from a gunshot to the chest. Jospeh then lifted my soul from that body and whisked me up to the spirit world. My epiphany at the time was that this guide had been with me through MANY lives, and loved me with the same (actually more) intensity than a mother can love a child. It was INTENSE. And I think that’s where I originally stopped the story… but it was the NEXT part where my brain sort of exploded.

You ready for this? After that, Joseph showed me myself in the “other” realm basically seated in a classroom learning about the ways of “it all.” The visions were in quick succession, but I went from sitting in a classroom looking at some sort of rolling screen, to then standing in the middle of a circle, and knowing that I could choose where to go for my next “life” from ANY point on that circle.

Next, Joseph next showed me a line. The end of the line to my left was the beginning of time, the other end being, well, the end of time. We, of course, are somewhere in between. THEN, he took the ends of the line and brought them together to form…. a circle.

THAT CIRCLE. The one you stand in the middle of where you get to choose where you are going for your next life iteration. That choice is anywhere IN TIME. Time is CIRCULAR.

Would you like to go get a cup of coffee, or maybe a glass of wine before we sit down and discuss this further? Ha!

OK. So I like to think of myself as a pretty scientific person. I think I’ve talked about this before- I firmly believe that what I am experiencing isn’t supernatural or magic, it’s just something we don’t know how to measure yet: a way of communicating that most of us dont pick up on. My guides know my brain works scientifically, and I truly believe it is why they gave me this special glimpse of the inner workings up there. So, I received an explanation to help me understand this in science-y terms: You know how when we stand at the coast, looking out onto the ocean, we see a flat horizon? Well we also know that if we get back far enough, perhaps way up high in a plane, we could see that the horizon actually bends, and going even further up would show us that eventually it comes together to form a globe. Nothing new here, I know. But let’s go further. You know how scientists have said that time bends? (Interstellar, anyone?) And we all usually collectively scratch our heads and go, HUH???? Well, it’s the same as it is for the horizon. If we stand far enough back, eventually time comes back around to itself.

Finally, there are infinite points on a line- we all learn that in Geometry, right? Thus, there are an infinite number of places on that circle we can “go.”

See? It’s all science!

I know. Take a moment if you must.

You might be thinking, “But Holly, If the curve of time is like the curve of the earth then shouldn’t it be a globe?” Well, yes, I agree, but I wasn’t given that info. I don’t know. But man, that kind of makes sense, and now that I’m thinking about it my brain is starting to freak out again. OUCH! The possibilities!

In other news, things have finally settled down again and I’m committed to giving this Spirit stuff the attention it deserves. I came across a tweet yesterday (that I actually saved!) which rings amazingly relevant for me right now,

“Not knowing how to go or where it leads, is no longer a valid reason to ignore your path.” (@SayitValencia/Twitter)

So, I’m done ignoring. I’m now in some fun online groups I’ll share about soon and have also signed up for another round of ghost school in April, so we should have some serious stories this year! And next time, I won’t keep any secrets. It is what it is and I’ve resigned myself to being the weirdo in the bunch. I even bought some Tarot cards. 😉

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.

So now what?

In search of answers and help- I started telling my spirit story to people that I trust.   Everything on the internet seems so hocus pocus or what they call  “Woo”-ish that it tends to be off putting. Why does everything that has to do with “the other side” also have to have crystals and tarot cards and candles and… weird shit?  Still, the only people I have yet found to talk to (that say they are mediums) are, yes, weird. (But, helpful also, as it turns out!) I discovered a woman about an hour away that was giving a “medium” class in her home.  Two days- i think it was $80- what could it hurt, right?

I show up and the teacher hands out, what else, CRYSTALS.  Jiminy Christmas.  They are purple and supposed to help with… something.  There were two other people in my class- both in their early twenties and very normal looking (yay!).  The teacher, though, is a bit older than me with dark orange hair and blunt bangs just above her eyebrows, kind of like a 50 year old “emo” woman.  I had to talk myself into putting aside my preconceived notions of the weirdness and remember I was here to learn, so I hung the crystal around my neck.

The first day was filled with lots of information, mostly about how different mediums get their info (clairvoyance, clairsentience, etc.)  and the different types of mediumship (trance, physical, etc.) The teacher told me she’d like me to get to a place where a spirit didn’t have to take over my body to get me to convey information. (Novel idea, huh?)  That I could actually say “no” to a spirit that was giving me messages that way and ask to do it differently. It made sense, as the “Henry” experience had literally left me exhausted for two days. It was all interesting, but I still felt like maybe these experiences I’d had were flukes, that it wasn’t going to happen again, that I just didn’t have the right brain.  I felt like I was no where nearer figuring out my next step.

Day two, however, It all became a little more clear for me.  That next day’s lesson was hands on- we were going to try out our skills.  Guess what the weird teacher pulls out?  Tarot cards.  UGH.

We were to take turns thinking of a question and having the other then try to read the answer from the card.  I don’t even remember what my secret question was or how the other student read me, but a funny thing happened when I did a reading for him.  He picks out five random cards (which are apparently not random at all. I say that slightly sarcastically but then again- not really- because who am I to say something is crazy at this point?) Anyway- he has thought of a question he wants some guidance on and I am supposed to look at the cards and answer him.

Ummm. I got nothing.  I have no idea how the serendipity card mixed with the marriage card affects you, dude.

After staring at the tarot deck for 30 seconds (which is an eternity when everyone is staring back at me) I finally had a “f**k it” moment, and decided to do things my way. I grabbed my pad of paper and pen and closed my eyes.  Immediately I got  “Timothy” and “motorcycle accident,” and then saw a windy two lane road.  (By the way- I’ll try to explain this more later, but when I hear something or see it, it’s not really different than my own thoughts, so sometimes its hard to discern. Especially in the very beginning- how did I know I wasn’t just making this up?)

“Alright,” I started, feeling somewhat overwhelmed, “I have no idea what this has to do with the tarot cards but i just saw a two lane road and heard motorcycle accident, and this may or may not have to do with a guy named Timothy.”

“Yeaaaaaaah… no. That wasn’t my question,” he told me. “I wanted to know whether I should go to my grandmothers house for Christmas or not.”

“Well, don’t drive a motorcycle there I guess,” I told him, rolling my eyes at my defeat. I felt like I was wasting my time here- again that maybe this channeling stuff was just a sporadic thing that will happen to me every decade or so. But then the guy says to the teacher, “Hey wait- remember my old coworker Timothy who died in the motorcycle accident?”

“Oh yeah,” the teacher commented, “he came through at your reading with me as well!”

I sat there eyes wide open.  My heart and mind raced as I realize I have actually just channeled a spirit again, QUITE EASILY IN FACT! I’m about to burst out with “it worked!” when the teacher  turned to me and said nonchalantly and dismissively “But that’s not what we’re working on. We want to get our information from the tarot cards today.”

Seriously.