Coming out
I notice that I am peeling away layers, revealing more and more of myself. Especially lately as I am getting clearer about just how short my time here could be. We all die. And, I can say that I spent a great deal of my former life not living. No more. I am saying YES to who I am, without apology. I am getting that my hiding, being shy or playing small are of little value. And so, I write today about a gift I have. Most people who know me get that I am an artist, I paint, I sing, I work as a designer. I'm creative. What most don't know is that I am also highly intuitive. And sometimes, I talk to the dead. I don't even understand it, but it's as real as the rest of it.
When I was a child, I experienced some unexplainable things. I also had an undeniably traumatic upbringing, and so I thought I was simply bat shit crazy from all of it. I told no one of the strange happenings, the things I saw, heard, felt. I figured they would lock me up and throw away the key. And they might have. Crazy kind of ran in my family. There was a period of time after my mother died (age 8) and I was subsequently sexually abused (age 9) when I began to hear voices. I would at times see people who were not there, and especially hear them. They would say things to me softly, other times they yelled and screamed. It was terrifying. I remember a day when it was so intense that I laid down and held my hands over my ears, praying it would stop. And, because I thought it was me going nuts, I never thought to talk back, or find out more. It just left me scared and wondering when I was going to go over the edge.
As I grew older, it came and went, with periods where I knew things before they happened, I felt what someone was going to say or do, or when the phone rang, I could tell who it was before it was answered. Little stuff. And I ignored it. I would never have spoken a word about it to my family. Or teachers, or friends. For a while it faded some.
Then when I was about 28 I came to LA and it started up again. I was so open, and I was searching. At first I noticed that I had a thing with numbers. Yeah, lots of us do. And, mine was something I could not ignore. Folks who knew me then will remember that it was not unusual for me to get in my car, notice it was 2:22pm, stop at the first gas station I saw, notice that the lottery was 111 million, then fill my tank with gas and the total be $33.33, all that in about 5 minutes. And so on. Often this kind of thing happened and I learned to appreciate and enjoy it. I also chose a long time ago to pay attention when it happens, especially many times close together. To me that signals that I am lined up with my path, and I up my awareness to see what's available to me.
In addition, I began to communicate with spirit. I didn't ask to, it just happened. Or rather I should say, they communicated with me. A few examples might help. My first husband and I, before we got married, planned to travel to England to see his mother. I had never met her and she was ill and we felt she may not live much longer. As we were planning the trip, we got word she had died. We went to sleep that night, feeling loss and incomplete. The next morning, I woke up to her sitting by me on the bed. She was warmly looking at me, smiling and reaching towards me as if to connect. And then she was gone.
Another experience was with my friend Ho just after her death from cancer. I was traveling from Colorado to LA to her funeral. I had moved to CO a few months earlier, knowing that she was going to pass. I had flown back and forth a few times,on the last trip, having said my goodbyes to her. So on the day I was to get on a plane, I was rushing to get a video montage of photos of her and her kids that I had made burned onto a CD to take with me. It would be played at her memorial. I was feeling nervous about time and also wanting it to be nice, and I said out loud, "Ho, I really hope this is OK for you, sweet friend." Within seconds, I felt tickling all over me, I got chills and I heard her laughing softly, a gentle giggle. I felt it in my ears, it tickled around my neck and I felt her presence so strongly I began to weep and laugh and I said, "Hi, Ho! You are here!" A few moments later I felt her leave and I ran to the phone and called her daughter, Melissa. I said, "Your mom was just here. She's so light and happy. I am on my way!"
- I was dating a man a few years ago who told me of his girlfriend's passing 2 years before we met. He had loved her deeply and was still in grief. One night as we lay talking, I silently, in my own mind, invited her to "show up" sometime, telling her I would be open to it. She did show up. That night. She took me over and I channeled her so she could have a conversation with him. She gave specific info, made requests and when she left, I was very sad. I also don't remember how it started, or some parts of it. It felt as if the encounter lasted 2-3 minutes but my boyfriend later told me it was about an hour long. The impact of this stayed with me, and I really couldn't talk about it for a few weeks. It rocked my world.
- I had been waking up a lot at night for a while, back a few years ago. I contacted another psychic about it and asked for her insight. She told me I had choices. She suggested that I could simply ask spirit to stop waking me up, or I could ask what it (or they) wanted. I chose asking, so that night, at the usual time of 4am, I woke up with a start. I sat up in bed and said, "OK, I am here, what do you need from me?" I sat and closed my eyes, waiting. After about 10 seconds, I saw in my mind a young man I knew to be the son of a friend. He had died when he was 16, several years earlier. He told me that his mother had kept his bedroom the same since he died. I had never been in it, so I just listened as he described the room. He said, "Tell my mom she can go ahead and change my room, I am ok with that. Just don't get rid of the sombrero that's hanging on my bed post. I like it." Then he showed me the power box at the intersection where he had died. He'd been hit by a car while crossing the street in front of his high school. I myself had actually painted the power box in his memory, as a gift to his family and at the time, a flyer had been on one side of it, so I left it there. Eventually the flyer was gone and the space was blank. He patted it and said, "Why isn't there a runner here? I was a runner. Please paint one?" And then he was gone. Messaged delivered. I called his mother and she confirmed the sombrero, crying and thanking me. The next day, with his mother's blessing, I painted a runner on the power box.
A few moments later, another young man appeared to me. This was the son of a friend I went to high school with, whom I had not seen in decades. I knew from Facebook that his son had died in a car accident while driving on his 16th birthday. He showed me a truck, with a gun rack and that he and his dad had hunted together. He told me he wished his dad would go hunting again, that it hurts him to see his father still so sad.
The last, and most impactful, was Kiesha. I was still sitting, eyes closed, watching with my mind's eye and a young girl, who looked to be 6-7 years old, with curly ringlets, wearing a pink onesie and holding a white stuffed rabbit, stepped into a light and said, "Hi, I am Keisha. I was gone but I'm fine now." I had no idea who this girl could be and somehow, I got a hit to turn on the light and grab my phone. I did and I Googled, "Kiesha missing girl" - no idea why I chose this wording - and there she was... so many photos of her, mostly in pink. I felt a huge wave of nausea as I read that she had been murdered in Sydney, Australia by her own mother. I was sickened and could barely sleep after. Her full name was Kiesha Abrahams. She had said no more. I feel now that she merely wanted to be seen, heard, witnessed in some manner. This particular connection has stayed with me, and I often think of her.
So many more, but you get the idea. It's huge to be sharing this publicly. I have always been sceptical of people who call themselves psychics, as I have met many frauds. And, this is simply what my truth is. I have no attachment to anyone else believing it, or to what they may think of me. Based on what I have experienced, I understand myself to be all three: Clairessant: The ability to gain extra-sensory information through feeling. Clairaudent: The ability to hear sound and voices that are outside of the natural range of hearing. Clairvoyant: The ability to gain extra-sensory information through pictures.
It's taken me a lifetime to let myself be "out" about it. That in itself is healing and freeing. And yes, I do readings. I have that to offer if anyone requests it. I don't advertise it or talk about it much, but I am becoming more open and vocal about it. My only interest is ever in helping another person to find peace through this, and I consider it a huge honor to be able to do this, when I can. And, I want to have as much integrity as possible in delivering information to the people I sit with. The rest is a beautiful mystery and I'm lucky I think, to be able to tap into it at times.
When I was a child, I experienced some unexplainable things. I also had an undeniably traumatic upbringing, and so I thought I was simply bat shit crazy from all of it. I told no one of the strange happenings, the things I saw, heard, felt. I figured they would lock me up and throw away the key. And they might have. Crazy kind of ran in my family. There was a period of time after my mother died (age 8) and I was subsequently sexually abused (age 9) when I began to hear voices. I would at times see people who were not there, and especially hear them. They would say things to me softly, other times they yelled and screamed. It was terrifying. I remember a day when it was so intense that I laid down and held my hands over my ears, praying it would stop. And, because I thought it was me going nuts, I never thought to talk back, or find out more. It just left me scared and wondering when I was going to go over the edge.
As I grew older, it came and went, with periods where I knew things before they happened, I felt what someone was going to say or do, or when the phone rang, I could tell who it was before it was answered. Little stuff. And I ignored it. I would never have spoken a word about it to my family. Or teachers, or friends. For a while it faded some.
Then when I was about 28 I came to LA and it started up again. I was so open, and I was searching. At first I noticed that I had a thing with numbers. Yeah, lots of us do. And, mine was something I could not ignore. Folks who knew me then will remember that it was not unusual for me to get in my car, notice it was 2:22pm, stop at the first gas station I saw, notice that the lottery was 111 million, then fill my tank with gas and the total be $33.33, all that in about 5 minutes. And so on. Often this kind of thing happened and I learned to appreciate and enjoy it. I also chose a long time ago to pay attention when it happens, especially many times close together. To me that signals that I am lined up with my path, and I up my awareness to see what's available to me.
In addition, I began to communicate with spirit. I didn't ask to, it just happened. Or rather I should say, they communicated with me. A few examples might help. My first husband and I, before we got married, planned to travel to England to see his mother. I had never met her and she was ill and we felt she may not live much longer. As we were planning the trip, we got word she had died. We went to sleep that night, feeling loss and incomplete. The next morning, I woke up to her sitting by me on the bed. She was warmly looking at me, smiling and reaching towards me as if to connect. And then she was gone.
Another experience was with my friend Ho just after her death from cancer. I was traveling from Colorado to LA to her funeral. I had moved to CO a few months earlier, knowing that she was going to pass. I had flown back and forth a few times,on the last trip, having said my goodbyes to her. So on the day I was to get on a plane, I was rushing to get a video montage of photos of her and her kids that I had made burned onto a CD to take with me. It would be played at her memorial. I was feeling nervous about time and also wanting it to be nice, and I said out loud, "Ho, I really hope this is OK for you, sweet friend." Within seconds, I felt tickling all over me, I got chills and I heard her laughing softly, a gentle giggle. I felt it in my ears, it tickled around my neck and I felt her presence so strongly I began to weep and laugh and I said, "Hi, Ho! You are here!" A few moments later I felt her leave and I ran to the phone and called her daughter, Melissa. I said, "Your mom was just here. She's so light and happy. I am on my way!"
- I was dating a man a few years ago who told me of his girlfriend's passing 2 years before we met. He had loved her deeply and was still in grief. One night as we lay talking, I silently, in my own mind, invited her to "show up" sometime, telling her I would be open to it. She did show up. That night. She took me over and I channeled her so she could have a conversation with him. She gave specific info, made requests and when she left, I was very sad. I also don't remember how it started, or some parts of it. It felt as if the encounter lasted 2-3 minutes but my boyfriend later told me it was about an hour long. The impact of this stayed with me, and I really couldn't talk about it for a few weeks. It rocked my world.
- I had been waking up a lot at night for a while, back a few years ago. I contacted another psychic about it and asked for her insight. She told me I had choices. She suggested that I could simply ask spirit to stop waking me up, or I could ask what it (or they) wanted. I chose asking, so that night, at the usual time of 4am, I woke up with a start. I sat up in bed and said, "OK, I am here, what do you need from me?" I sat and closed my eyes, waiting. After about 10 seconds, I saw in my mind a young man I knew to be the son of a friend. He had died when he was 16, several years earlier. He told me that his mother had kept his bedroom the same since he died. I had never been in it, so I just listened as he described the room. He said, "Tell my mom she can go ahead and change my room, I am ok with that. Just don't get rid of the sombrero that's hanging on my bed post. I like it." Then he showed me the power box at the intersection where he had died. He'd been hit by a car while crossing the street in front of his high school. I myself had actually painted the power box in his memory, as a gift to his family and at the time, a flyer had been on one side of it, so I left it there. Eventually the flyer was gone and the space was blank. He patted it and said, "Why isn't there a runner here? I was a runner. Please paint one?" And then he was gone. Messaged delivered. I called his mother and she confirmed the sombrero, crying and thanking me. The next day, with his mother's blessing, I painted a runner on the power box.
A few moments later, another young man appeared to me. This was the son of a friend I went to high school with, whom I had not seen in decades. I knew from Facebook that his son had died in a car accident while driving on his 16th birthday. He showed me a truck, with a gun rack and that he and his dad had hunted together. He told me he wished his dad would go hunting again, that it hurts him to see his father still so sad.
The last, and most impactful, was Kiesha. I was still sitting, eyes closed, watching with my mind's eye and a young girl, who looked to be 6-7 years old, with curly ringlets, wearing a pink onesie and holding a white stuffed rabbit, stepped into a light and said, "Hi, I am Keisha. I was gone but I'm fine now." I had no idea who this girl could be and somehow, I got a hit to turn on the light and grab my phone. I did and I Googled, "Kiesha missing girl" - no idea why I chose this wording - and there she was... so many photos of her, mostly in pink. I felt a huge wave of nausea as I read that she had been murdered in Sydney, Australia by her own mother. I was sickened and could barely sleep after. Her full name was Kiesha Abrahams. She had said no more. I feel now that she merely wanted to be seen, heard, witnessed in some manner. This particular connection has stayed with me, and I often think of her.
So many more, but you get the idea. It's huge to be sharing this publicly. I have always been sceptical of people who call themselves psychics, as I have met many frauds. And, this is simply what my truth is. I have no attachment to anyone else believing it, or to what they may think of me. Based on what I have experienced, I understand myself to be all three: Clairessant: The ability to gain extra-sensory information through feeling. Clairaudent: The ability to hear sound and voices that are outside of the natural range of hearing. Clairvoyant: The ability to gain extra-sensory information through pictures.
It's taken me a lifetime to let myself be "out" about it. That in itself is healing and freeing. And yes, I do readings. I have that to offer if anyone requests it. I don't advertise it or talk about it much, but I am becoming more open and vocal about it. My only interest is ever in helping another person to find peace through this, and I consider it a huge honor to be able to do this, when I can. And, I want to have as much integrity as possible in delivering information to the people I sit with. The rest is a beautiful mystery and I'm lucky I think, to be able to tap into it at times.
Comments
Post a Comment