Speaking Up

How much should a sitter say in a reading with a medium?  Hard-core skeptics might be tempted to give no feedback at all.  This, I have learned, will lessen the experience for all concerned.  Mediumship is all about energy.  A reading is a three-way connection between those on the other side, the medium, and the sitter.  If the sitter decides to block that flow by not saying anything, their silence is akin to erecting an energetic wall to what can be very subtle communication.

As an evidence-based medium, I want those on the other side to tell me as much about themselves as they can.   That evidence provides validation that consciousness continues beyond the transition we call death.   “Evidence” consist of any information the spirit can convey through words, sensations, feelings, and images about their life or others in their life that the medium could not have known.  The challenge is that the connection is not always as clear as a phone call or a Skype video session.  The information received may be sketchy and it can be either literal or symbolic.  This is where clarification from the sitter adds greatly to a reading.

This week I did an unscheduled session for Carol, a woman who had emailed me about the recent loss of her husband, the love of her life.  She admitted to being somewhat skeptical about mediumship, but she was aching for validation that her husband, John, was still with her in spirit.  I am well familiar with that ache and agreed to do the reading right away.  Thank goodness this sitter decided to keep the flow going with her helpful comments.

I immediately sensed a male presence standing where I normally feel a husband or partner.  The first thing he did was show me himself dancing with his wife.  Carol told me that dancing was significant.  It turned out to be so significant that John ended the session by bringing up dancing again.  Why do so twice?  I learned later that of the many affirmative prayers John had written in his life, his most popular one is entitled, “I Dance in the Miracle.”  Carol had it printed on cards and gave it out each year on his birthday.  At his Celebration of Life service, pale blue ribbons were given to each person with the title inscribed.  Yes, dancing was more than meaningful to John and his wife.

John was able to show me a major illness from which he suffered, but that didn’t jibe with the repeated twitching I felt just above my left ankle.  I had never before experienced such an odd sensation, which told me that someone on the other side was intentionally sending my brain a signal.  Sure enough, Carol confirmed that the site of this unusual twitch was the exact location of the only pain that John endured throughout his physical ordeal.  She told me that John’s pain in that spot was excruciating, but was in no way connected to or caused by the illness that took his life.  Had she sat silently and not confirmed these important details, the three of us would have missed out on that joyous moment of knowing that John’s spirit was fully present—enough for me to objectively feel a remnant of his physical symptoms.

“We didn’t quite make it to 40” John said, and Carol confirmed that I heard him correctly.  They would have celebrated their 40^th anniversary this Fall.  

He then showed me a large yellow flower.  The image was so fleeting that I wasn’t sure if it was a sunflower, a daisy, or some other unusually large specimen, but he made it clear that the flower was some kind of sign from him.  Carol knew that flower.  It was a large hibiscus, shown here, that bloomed outside the location of John’s Celebration of Life for the first time ever on that particular morning.  That was a month ago.  Hibiscus blooms only last one day. This past Sunday, the day before her reading, Carol noticed a fresh yellow bloom and took the photo you see here.   There was only one large bloom on each occasion. How appropriate that John would mention it during this oh-so-special reunion with his wife.

There were many more pieces of evidence that Carol claims were “spot on,” including the fact that John had served in the Navy.  His specialty as a “yeoman” came through loud and clear.  One detail of the many he shared with us stands out to me.  It was one of those images that I see from time to time in a reading that is so ordinary I almost hesitate to mention it.  In this case, John showed me a hot dog.  You can’t get much more commonplace than that, so why bring it up?  Perhaps, I reasoned, he was trying to show me something about the difference in his and Carol’s eating habits, because immediately after showing me the hot dog, I saw two hands brushing through the air accompanied by the thought, “No way!” as the hands then pointed at Carol.

Happily, Carol didn’t sit there silently.  No longer the skeptic, she informed me that John was indeed a big hot dog fan—so much so that he had considered buying a hot dog stand.  Carol confirmed that she is not an avid hot dog consumer, but the hot dog and the “No way!” gesture turned out to be far more significant than alluding to their dietary preferences.  It seems that the first time Carol spoke with John on the phone, he had called to make arrangements for their (blind) date.  Her initial reaction upon hearing his voice was that he sounded “like a New Jersey hot dog,” and there was “NO WAY” she was going out with him.  Carol loved to tell that story, and had told it in exactly that way countless times over the ensuing forty years.  John loved the story because it turned out so well after all.

How grateful I am that Carol spoke up and confirmed this beautiful validation of John’s presence.  I am also grateful that Carol agreed to share these details publicly.  I have changed this dear couple’s names at Carol’s request.  Her grief is still raw as she adjusts to her new “normal,” but she was willing to pass along this gift to others in hopes of providing the healing that evidence from across the veil brings.

I know that John is grateful.  A few hours after the reading I sat to meditate to the new “Making the Connection” meditation that I recorded last month with Jim Oliver.  As the waves of ethereal music washed over me, suddenly a man’s face appeared before my mind’s eye.  He stepped close and gave me a hug.  I was stunned.  I regularly see gestures such as John’s “No way!” but never until now had I seen a spirit’s face.  “Who are you?” I asked the man silently.  “I’m the one you just brought through in your reading today,” he answered as he gave me a hug of thanks.  I gazed at that same face half an hour later on my computer screen when Carol responded to my urgent request to send me a photo of John for verification.  Thank you, John, for the gift that is you.  Thank you, Spirit.  

I know now why I was nudged so clearly to do this reading as soon as possible.  I learned that in the past two or three weeks of his life John was adamant about sharing with everyone around him—nurses, aides, doctors, friends, family—the three messages that he, Carol, and I find of utmost importance to understand and apply in this life:  (1)  We are all ONE, regardless of any apparent differences, (2) It’s important to think with your head, but far, far more important to think with your heart, and (3) All that matters is LOVE. 
May we all follow John and Carol’s lead and Dance in the Miracle of love everlasting.