They Can Come at the Most Inappropriate Moments...

I'm still new to being "out of the closet" as a tarot specialist and intuitive medium. Especially the latter part. I have less of a problem letting folks know I read cards, because that borders on an entertainment for most people who don't understand it, but for me, it's a very real tool in channeling messages from beyond.

Often when I read someone's cards, their loved ones or others watching over them come through and show me important images, just to let them know that they are there. I usually give people the description of what I'm seeing, so they can validate it on their own. For me, it's a cryptic set of puzzle pieces. For them...something they recognize and relate with on a deep level. It's the spirit world's way of telling them to listen. The card reading works much more specifically, and in conjunction with the images, a connection to the seeker is made much more personal.

On the Intuitive Medium side of things, people are much more informed and understanding in this day and age, and less in fear of the unknown, so it's a good time to start "coming out."

My insecurity about my abilities growing up kept me from telling most people - especially those closest to me - for fear they would reject or ridicule me. Or worse...not believe me. I was lucky enough as a teenager to have a very close knit small group of friends that were practicing Wickans. They were not at all afraid of my abilities, and though things lent to the dark side of the spectrum sometimes in obtaining knowledge about how their world works, it was useful in many ways to learn how to protect myself against unwanted spirits bugging me, or entering my dreams with messages. For a child, that can be very frightening, and you just want them to go away. Learning to understand how to work with them was a long process. I had no guiding hand but my own, and sometimes advice from my grandmother.

We often, during our practices, scared the bejeezus out of each other, and would go through long periods of leaving it well enough alone. My great-grandmother had long since passed away, and her guidance only came in specific spurts through the dreamworld. I was very much alone in my abilities, and after graduating High School in a small town, friends wandered near and far...then completely away. And so did I.

These days, as an adult, I still worry about the every day person not understanding and not taking me seriously, but I've had enough validations from the people I have helped over the years to know I can continue to help, and that is what makes it all worth while.

Sometimes, however, that help happens in really weird moments. When I am sick, for instance, I am focused on healing, and getting well. As strong as my will may be on the everyday level to not let spirits interfere with my everyday life (and they don't, for the most part, unless I let them, or one is particularly nasty or persistent), sometimes a spirit will catch me off guard and come right through.

For instance... Last week I had a very invasive procedure called a Colonoscopy, something young women often never have to have, but as part of the aggressive health regimen I am on, it's required to rule some very horrible things out (and all were ruled out). Don't worry, I won't give you gory details. It was bad enough I had to go through it, and I know a friend who is 70 who regularly goes through it.

The night before, you have to drink an awful quart of liquid I can only best describe as tasting like Lemon Fresh Pledge, while trying not to throw it back up. On the morning of, you repeat this process, and hope you make it to your appointment before having to use the bathroom again. It flushes out your system completely.

I made it to the appointment, and was in the waiting room. I started feeling heavy and isolated despite the two or three others there, and I knew there was someone else with a message there, but I couldn't see from person to person who that was or if they were connected to any of them.

In doctors offices, this happens often, and I think it comes from a place of anxiety almost everyone has there. "Worry energy." But there were people there who were picking up patients after the procedures to drive them home, as was my husband there with me. They seemed calm and not at all worried. It wasn't coming from them.

I excused myself one last time to use the one-person bathroom in the waiting room, and no sooner had I sat down on the toilet than I saw the doorknob on the inside click ever-so-lightly, almost inaudibly, and move. I knew there was no one on the other side. As soon as I saw it, I got a name, "Robert," and then he appeared to me a few seconds later. My first thought was...Really...REALLY??? You want to do this now? Why couldn't you have done it in the waiting room? Why, while I'm sitting on the commode, waiting for a Colonoscopy, do you have to come through?! This is not a good time, Robert. Not at ALL, a good time.

He wasn't listening. He'd found a way to come through to me, and that was that. Tall and handsome, despite his dark-brown shaggy mullet and old flannel shirt with jeans and a dark t-shirt, he was talking so fast, as if he had little time to get it all out while I was still in the bathroom and would listen. He'd died in the late 80's in a car accident, and they'd somehow brought him here. I wasn't sure he really knew he was dead, because he kept asking to see Angie...Angie...Angie...Where is Angie? The girl he loved, not a sister. He needed her to know he was ok. He wanted to know if she was ok. It all happened so fast...he hadn't been drinking. I need her to know...I need her to know.

I tried, with what little physical strength I had, to calm him down and tell him yes, he was ok where he was, but he was passed...and I couldn't find Angie for him here and now, though I would look. I told him he'd been searching for a very, very long time, and he needed to be in a place of peace. The light was behind him waiting, and I told him to go into that light.

He did not want to go; he was determined to find Angie and tell her the things he needed to say. He loved her. The light was closer, though, and he was backing up towards it, turning into it, and looking over his shoulder, and then the peace came over his face, and he turned away, and went completely in. It took a while for the light to fade. I felt his gratefulness.

I was left in surprise, still sitting on the toilet when he was gone, thinking to myself, Oh gods, not now...not here...Is no place sacred?! And yet, this poor Robert had waited to get me alone, to tell me his story. How many years had he been haunting that block? When did it convert from full Ambulatory care to an in/outpatient surgery facility? Had he been bottled up in there, stuck, for 20+ years, with no one to tell? Or perhaps, had it been that long to find someone who was open and would help?

He didn't want to leave. Not without Angie, at first, and then...not without her knowing. I believe Angie has also passed from this world, but I do not know that it was from this incident he describes. Her energy was on him, but not in the building. It's amazing the determination a loved one can have even after death. That is why love is such a gift--there is no end point.

It transcends death and time. I can still see Robert's handsome face in my mind's eye, and I wish him very well in his new found peace, finally crossing over. 20 years is a long time to wait for that, in emotional turmoil and agony over a situation that was beyond his own control.

If you have situations beyond your control in your life, do not let them weigh you down, year after year, decade after decade. Do what you can to bring the positive points to the surface, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. You will be happier, and ready for a bright new world, and a happier, longer life ahead of you filled with love and light.