Poetic License

Yesterday, I had a reading. It was unlike anything I’ve every experienced before. It was … profound. It was stunning. It left me so drained that I had to lie down afterward and sleep for two solid hours in one position. When I woke I was feeling better. The whole reading was captured on video and will be ready in a few days, but I don’t know if I want to share it to a wider audience. I think it’s just for me, and for my immediate family. You’ll understand when I give you the thumbnail sketch.

I found a woman in Asheville who continues to do psychic and mediumship readings virtually, as well as in person, which made me feel more comfortable. (And honestly, I wouldn’t have been able to drive afterward, which I know now.) She came highly recommended, and I’ll pass that recommendation on to you at the end. Even though she was highly recommended and has been doing this for a long time, I was skeptical in a healthy way. I had given her my birth name and my phone number, and that’s all she got ahead of time. Could she have done some digging? Yes, of course. We live in that kind of world. But the things she brought forward were, some of them, unknown to anyone but me. I hardly believe that someone would do the kind of digging it took to get some of these specifics when she does multiple readings per day and many per month.

First, she did the psychic reading, which started with tarot cards and some tuning in. It was pretty much spot on. She knew that I was facing a work decision and that if I did what I was thinking of doing, it would be a bad course for me. She also showed the knight of fire immediately before me. She said that although the knight can be any gender, she felt this was a younger man. I was waiting for her to say I was a cougar or something. She had seen the chaos that was either currently present or just past. She said, “I feel like … do you have a son?” I nodded. She said, “Okay, I think you’re going to make a decision to be closer to him.” Precisely. I told her how right she was and that the chaos was possibly the move or the selling of my other home. She said, “I feel like there’s a good relationship there and that you rely on each other.” She asked if I had other children, because she felt that I did. I said, “Well, I did have more.” That was that.

Two for two. She saw the work situation could dissolve in the (I think) the ten of water. Don’t quote me on the specific number. She was using the angel deck. I had a ten of water in there out of two water cards, and the other one was right at the end. She cautioned me that it would be the wrong decision, the one I was leaning toward. She said, “You have a strong perfectionist streak, and sometimes when you feel you can’t do something perfectly, you just say, ‘Oh fine, then I won’t do it at all.’”

Bingo.

She advised me to find some way to make joy for myself in a growth position. Noted. When she tuned into my energy after the tarot reading. she said, “You need to do some work on yourself physically. I’m sensing fatigue. Lack of energy through the body. Do you have an acupuncturist?” I said I didn’t but that I had used one in the past. She encouraged me to find another, and to eat more whole foods and get outside more. She felt I was cooped up. Bingo again.

She asked if I had any other questions for her. I asked about my health, because she had not brought it up other than to tell me I needed to take better care of my body and to seek an acupuncturist. I thought to myself that if she had researched me, she would have brought up cancer.

She tuned in some more and said, “I’m seeing good things for your future. Of course, I’m not a doctor, but I’m not seeing any serious illness in your future.”

I told her about my bout with cancer, and she again stressed that she saw good things ahead as long as I tended to my body.

Soon, we moved on to the mediumship, and here is where I get shaky even writing about it.

She didn’t ask me any questions, but she explained how she worked. She told me she didn’t generally like to pass on negative energy or messages unless they were urgent messages. She said that sometimes no one came through, and that sometimes people whose loved ones had readings later in the day would poke through. In those cases, she just wanted me to acknowledge they weren’t there for me and move on. She only wanted me to acknowledge when something was correct. She would jot a note for herself if so.

And then she went into it. She closed her eyes for a few moments as we sat in silence. She opened the door for messages of good.

When she opened her eyes, she said, “Okay, you had a daughter? She’s coming through very strongly.”

Before long she identified there was an “S” name with three syllables. I acknowledged that yes, her name was Stephanie. And then she kept touching her head. “Something with the head,” she said. “Head injury?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Okay, it’s depression or mental illness then, because I keep getting the sign for the head.” I confirmed that she was correct.

She looked right at me, “Was this a suicide?”

“We don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

She went back into silence and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she said, “No, I’m getting pulled away from that. I’m feeling it wasn’t very clear. Like maybe the depression took over. Maybe it was accidental. Maybe carelessness.”

“Yes,” I said, “It could have been. The coroner felt it was accidental.”

“She wants you to know that she’s sorry,” she said, and this is when the tears started to flow. “She knows how hard this has been for you. But she says you were the only one who could really see her for the person she really was. She never felt right in her body, and her mind and other forces were always pulling her here and there. But you saw who she really was.”

I was sobbing. We stopped for a moment, and she let me talk about Stephanie and how beautiful and wonderful she was. She eventually closed her eyes again.

“She wants to send her love to her brother, so much love. I feel they had the kind of relationship that every brother and sister wish they had.” More crying on my part, and nodding. “She says that she wants him to know she’s with him and that she often teases him by doing things – flickering the lights and such.”

I didn’t tell her, but Sean’s lights have been acting up – for no apparent reason – including the microwave. And just the other day, one of the lights that was a favorite suddenly burst. Yes, things can happen to bulbs, but it was pretty specific.

She told me that Stephanie was surrounded by loved ones who were in spirit and that she was “good – so good!”

We moved on to my Dad, and two of my cousins (one of whom I have never written about). She got one cousin’s name almost exactly right (an A sound rather than an E sound at the end), and she described her personality to a T. My other cousin, she thought, had something with the abdomen. I said, “Yes, but not a disease.” She nodded and said, “Ah yes, an injury.” (Later we talked about how my dear cousin had been shot through the abdomen and how she had kept coming to me in dreams, imploring me to tell her parents that she did not commit suicide, that she had been killed.)

Dad, she said, had been with me during the cancer battle. (Later, after the reading, I told her that he had died from cancer himself.) She described him as the person I knew him to be, rather than the person he often acted like. She described his heart, and I suppose now that he isn’t burdened by the PTSD from the war, it’s who he is. She listened to him for awhile and said, “This is going to sound really off the wall, and just tell me if it doesn’t make sense, but I’m seeing something like Alfred Hitchcock.”

I know I looked confused. “I don’t know –“

She said, “You know, the profile.”

“Oh my God,” I said. “That’s exactly how he appeared to me after he died. He was in profile, a shadow, outside the door of the bedroom I was in, and I asked him not to show himself further. I was all alone in the apartment.”

It was specific things like that, which, if she were researching me, she would have described differently. Why Alfred Hitchcock? Because of the profile. She could have said, “He appeared to you after he died and wanted to acknowledge that was him.” But no. It was the profile. And even I wouldn’t have thought about Alfred Hitchcock in regard to my dad’s appearance, but it made perfect sense.

There was more, but those are the highlights. I can’t write more, because I’m exhausted from reliving it again. It was intense and powerful, and I’m not sure I’ve adequately captured just how powerful it was. I would need more strength to go through it again. Of all the readings I’ve had, I’ve never experienced the mediumship. She was so much more correct than any of the ones you see in the media. She reminded me of the kind of things I’ve seen over the years in my own intuitive life.

And she was worth every dime. I’m glad I gave myself that gift. To hear from my daughter, and from my dad, and to be able to send messages to them, well, you can’t put a price on it. She did find it curious that I didn’t ask about my mother. I think my mother might have been wondering and waiting. I just said that although we had a connection, I always felt she was more connected to my other sisters. I felt more connected to my dad.

Should you want to contact her, she’s Kelly Palmatier at ChannelingWhiteLight.com.

Namaste. I have to rest again.

Jude