Those of us who declare that we have mediumship abilities face enough skepticism as it is, and when higher-profile mediums tarnish the “industry,” it makes it even harder for the rest of us to open the eyes and hearts of disbelievers to the other side.
As an intuitive medium, I find stories like this one disheartening:
Edmonton psychic medium called a scam by clients left waiting for readings, refunds
Those of us who declare that we have mediumship abilities face enough skepticism as it is, and when higher-profile mediums tarnish the “industry,” it makes it even harder for the rest of us to open the eyes and hearts of disbelievers to the other side.
First off, I want to set the record straight that we are ALL born with clear psychic abilities, but they generally tend to get shut down during adolescence and many times get buried and not nurtured to be reignited again. And some of us have stronger abilities than others.
We ALL also have the ability to receive signs and symbols from the other side. Have you ever noticed a feather in your path after pondering a question or thinking about a loved one who has passed? Have you ever come across a handwritten note or a card from a loved one who has passed around your birthday or a special time in your life? What about hearing a specific song on the radio, maybe one that isn’t on today’s top play list that connects you with someone who is no longer here? We don’t necessarily need to pay anyone to delivery these messages to us, we just need to keep your hearts and minds (and eyes and ears) open and aware to what is around us so that we can connect the dots.
Some people have a strong gift of mediumship and choose to make a living off of it and that is fine. It is okay to pay for a “service” but not pay a ridiculous price for it. It should be noted that Mediums who use their gifts to make a living, need to bring home a paycheck too, as they need to eat, put a roof over their head and in many cases raise a family as well. One also needs to consider that you get what you pay for. A seasoned medium will charge a decent rate, but you will know by the healing you feel afterwards, that it was worth it. (I always say that a good reading is better than a session on the couch in the therapist’s office.) Spirit will also come through in a reading giving you whatever messages you NEED to receive and NOT necessarily the message or information that you are looking for prior to a reading.
Unless a portion of your reading proceeds are going to charity, on average nobody should be paying $200 or more for a reading, let alone $500 or $600 on upward. Do the math. An average reading takes an hour. At $200 an hour, the medium is charging more than $3.00 a minute.
I also find it irritating when people offer courses or certifications to become a medium. You can work to strengthen your gifts, but either you have it or you don’t. You can’t buy it. And most of the work that is needed to be done, needs to be done looking inward and not necessarily online. The monthly memberships offered by some, to gain access to materials, is bothersome to me as well. You aren’t necessarily forming a relationship with the person whose name is one the web site. They have an office staff reading the emails and posting the materials. You aren’t “training” alongside a celebrity.
When shopping around for a Medium, you don’t need to see any credentials like a certification. I have found all of my good intuitive mediums via word-of-mouth and they have all had a positive reputation. You won’t necessarily find the positive ones in the yellow pages or on social media, as on social media, they, or should I say “we,” are a dime a dozen. Similarly, my advice to others is to not pay for things like a pendulum reading or to have someone “pull a card for you” for a sum of money. Those are all things that one can do on their own and they don’t necessarily need polished or refined gifts to do so or to get answers from.
And yet we all need to find a way to bring home a pay check of some sort, the idea behind having the gift of mediumship is to share the gift with others. One’s gifts also gets stronger as they help others, including those who are seeking to expand their gifts. The reward for the teacher isn’t just monetary, their gifts grow as well. Some will also say that those with gifts will lose or hinder their gifts if they don’t use them for the collective good, (i.e. for greed, instead).
I will also add, that those of us with gifts can become drained and need to find time and space to recharge in between readings and commitments. And from experience I can also say that balancing both family and personal needs with developing intuitive abilities can be challenging as well.
For the record, I do believe that Carmel Joy Baird DOES have spiritual gifts, but perhaps things spiraled out of control a bit. (I am sure that there is a lesson in all of this for her.)
I will happily add that I started to lose some weight a week or so before the wedding and to this day, it is still falling off with really no effort or intention on my part. It is as though my “layer of protection” that I have packed on (you can read about here: https://guidedbyspiritblog.wordpress.com/2017/06/21/ive-heard-of-the-freshman-fifteen-but-nobody-mentioned-the-awakening-15-to-me/ ) started to melt away as I got confident in myself, the angel messages that I had received and what I had to deal with at this wedding. The weight has continued to come off after as I replay in my head what I observed in people that evening. I have also been more honest with telling some people around me about my gifts, which I believe has assisted in dropping the weight as well.
So, about the wedding… (Which was really beige and not white, by the way.)
While getting ready for the wedding, I had some down time and I used that time to center myself, go over what I needed to do (radiate my light and spread love to those around me. This is the message that I got from my Guides a few weeks back.) I talked to my “spiritual team” (Guides and Angels) and even performed some Reiki on myself. I
knew that my grandmother, (my father’s mother) would be walking along side of me that evening. I’ve known it for months. I was as ready as I was going to be. I was calm and relaxed and ready for whatever was going to come my way. I threw some crystals in my purse. I took rose quarts and pyrite. (Rose quartz is the stone of the heart, a crystal of unconditional love that carries a soft feminine energy of compassion and peace, tenderness and healing, nourishment and comfort. Pyrite is a protector of negative energy as well as a stone that give a confidence boost.) I performed my usual energy protection rituals and then we were off. There was a shuttle bus that could have taken us to the wedding venue, but we chose to drive by ourselves.
My husband and I arrived at the chapel prior to my parents and sister. We grabbed a seat and saved room for others to join us as the seats were filling up fast. We had a row further back. I was in the corner but felt it was a comfortable space where I could observe from. We got a wave from some members of my Uncle’s side of the family toward the front row, but no body offered for us to move up, which was fine, we don’t feel we are the first tier of people to be up in front anyway.
While waiting, I saw my cousin Ann*, my second cousin Lynn* and her mother, Auntie J.* walk in.
My husband was standing in the aisle while I was sitting in the pew. Lynn walked by and gave my husband a quick hug and tried to scoot by with just a wave and a hello to me, but I got up and greeted her with a hug. Then I see her mother, Auntie J. I went up to her and she let me hug her, but then I go to kiss her on the cheek and she turned away. I noticed what has happened but carry on without missing a beat. As that was taking place, my cousin Ann said a side-ways “hello” more to my husband, than to me, and tried to walk behind everyone and avoid me. I moved closer to her and hugged her and said, “It’s great to see you.” She murmured the same back and walked to the front of the church where my uncle’s side of the family was seated. I can honestly say that I treated each lady with love and respect from the get-go that evening.
Next my parents arrived. They squeezed in and my mother asked where my sister is. She walks in (she arrived with the first three gals, but stopped off at the ladies room) and my mother called for her to sit by us. I gave her a hug as she sat down near my mother and me. I could tell that she was irritated that she had to sit by me and my parents, as she would have preferred to sit up front with the cousins, but let’s be honest, your parents come first. At one point my cousin Ann motions to my sister that there is room where they are sitting up front, but then my mom chimed in and asked if there was room for all of us, and that ended that. You could see my sister’s disgust in her body language as she realized that she was “stuck” with us for the ceremony.
As the ceremony is ready to get started, I saw my Uncle, the father of the groom, and we make eye contact. I give both him and the groom’s brother a hello as they pass by and see me. They weren’t sure what to make of my “hello” but wave back.
Before and during the ceremony, no matter what I would say to my sister to attempt to make conversation, she would say the opposite. I would say left, she’d say right, I’d mention up, she’d say down. No matter what I tried to do to get anywhere with her, I couldn’t so I took a break from trying until later in the evening.
The ceremony was very nontraditional and had more of a “comedy” theme to it. Others seemed to relate to the inside jokes that were said and the tone of the ceremony. Though it was a nice ceremony I didn’t connect with it, but I reminded myself that I didn’t relate to many of the people who were in the chapel and vice versa, they didn’t understand me in the least bit, but all of that was OK. We were there to celebrate the marriage of a bride and groom who were starting their life out together. It didn’t matter what the rest of us thought. It was their day. The day was how THEY want it to be. Outside opinions didn’t matter.
Once the ceremony concluded, we stepped outside and waited for the bride and groom to come out of the chapel. My parents, husband and I greeted my Aunt and Uncle (the mother and father of the groom). All four of us exchanged hugs and handshakes are exchanged and we are told “Thank you for coming.” My initial thought was, “Great! Everyone is acting cordial.”
While waiting for the couple to come out, I saw my Uncle’s sister-in-law. We’ll call her “Pat*”. Pat had a really cute dress and flats on and I complimented her on her dress and shoes. She commented back, referring to the wedges that I was wearing, about how she followed the rules on the wedding invite and wore flats as suggested, to the outdoor venue. Her comment seemed a bit icy, but I believed the comment had more to do with her, wishing she didn’t wear the flats, than with me.
On the way to the tented reception, I stopped off to the ladies room. There I made small talk with strangers who were in there. I am one who normally will make small talk with strangers and offer a smile or lift them up with a compliment. As I looked in the mirror, I could see (and feel) that I was still vibrating high.
On my way out of the ladies room, my sister and cousin Ann walk past my husband not acknowledging him until they saw me and then they said something. I let it go and made some light-hearted comment back and we headed toward the reception tent.
Once in the tent, we got our table assignments. My husband (the only male who would be at our table) and I were going to be seated with my sister, Ann, Lynn and Auntie J. My parents were seated at a different table. I could see the disappointment on my husband and father’s faces that they weren’t going to get to sit together. I could also sense my mother’s dismay as well. I decided that we weren’t going to sit down quite yet and visit around the room first, but I also made sure that we acknowledge those who were at our table prior to sitting down. My husband and I took the long way toward our table and stopped at the bar first. I filled him in on what I had seen/sensed from other’s actions towards me at the church. To a certain degree he doesn’t see or understand fully what I see and feel as he is not an Intuitive Empath or a Highly Sensitive Person like I am.
We stopped by the bar and I asked for a cranberry and tonic. I made a point to not drink alcohol about 5 days before the wedding, as well as to not drink at the wedding for two reasons: Alcohol can block the flow of spiritual gifts. (Five days might not sound like much to some, but I feel like almost every day an excuse pops up to have a drink – a glass of wine on the patio, a drink out with the girls, a cocktail after the kids are in bed, etc.) Also, coming from a family tree of heavy drinkers, I decided that I didn’t need anyone accusing me of acting a “certain way” because maybe I had too much to drink.
On the way to the bar I saw a man’s face that seemed to transform into Lynn’s father’s face, who had passed. The face gave me a deep, knowing look into my eyes. I let it pass. Sort of questioning it.
While at the bar, Pat’s husband came up and talked to me and my husband. All was fine. We just made small talk. Also while in line I see my aunt and uncle’s sister in law, Jilly*. Jilly (as well as Pat) have a history or coming up to me at family events, especially Jilly, if they are the current target of negativity, or on the outs with, well shall we say, may Aunt Marie,* the mother of the groom. In the past, when they have been short on people to “chat” with at family functions, they will chat it up with me to kill time. That wasn’t happening at this function. But when you have been the target before, you don’t want to piss off the Ring Leader, so you abide by the “rules” and follow suit. This cycle of icing somebody out has happened for generations. It happened with my Great Grandmother, my grandmother and great aunt, and with my aunt and cousins now. Jilly and I never had a problem making conversation before but while in line at the bar, I said hello, gave her a hug and complimented her on the jacket she had on. In an adverse tone, and no eye contact, she replied, “Thanks, my daughters picked it out.” And turned her back and walked away. That was that. She was done.
I made a stop at our table before I made my way over to check out the dessert table and found some cute, older gals standing by a heater to try to keep warm. (It was not quite 50 degrees out and raining.) We chatted it up a bit. I enjoyed their smiles and warm energy, no pun intended.
After viewing the dessert table, I stopped by my mother who is trying to get organized at her assigned table. Her and my father’s seats keep getting pushed down further to the end of the table as Pat was organizing who should sit where. I tried to make small talk with Pat and my mother, but Pat didn’t make eye contact with me and tried to zip a zinger comment my way to make me “feel dumb” which I was aware of. At that point, I just moved on.
Since we are lacking family photos as a whole and we were all dressed up, my mother found a nice back drop and takes some photos in front of. We called my sister over so that she could join us. While this was taking place, I could feel the negative energy and comments from those hanging out at the table we are to be seated at in a bit.
After my mom was done with taking photos, my sister and dad start talking by the DJ’s table. I went up and tried to join in the conversation. My husband eventually joined as well. No matter what conversation starter I asked my sister, the harsh, snippy responses were thrown back in my direction. I almost asked her what was wrong, why the tone, is there something that I did? The look on the face and body language couldn’t be ignored either, but then I remembered, we were just there for a wedding. If I asked too much, I might have gotten a negative reaction and we didn’t need to make a spectacle. I just let it be. At the end of the day, I knew that her issues are her own and they have to do with the way that my parents raised us differently, under the same roof. I was raised in such a way that I became more independent and she was the one who was (and still is) always coddled and never confronted for her actions. I have also learned that she uses her body language as a way to get attention as the victim. Victims play the victim for the sake of attention.
It was finally time to sit down for dinner. As we sat down, I caught a glimpse of what looked like and reminded me of Ann’s father who had passed. I saw him look over at me and I sensed that deep knowing look. I knew he was there. Once we sat, I sensed the awkwardness kicking in, heads were down and everyone focused on their plates. It was more than a resting bitch face for some. In some cases, it was also the shoulders slumped forward. I decide to just take the lead and nip the awkward silence in the bud. I paid particular attention to MY own body language making sure that I was “open” to others and not closed off. I started with Ann. I ask, “Ann, how are the kids doing?” and in response to my question, I got an abrupt and angered “Fine, how are yours?” back. I saw Lynn’s eyes pop out of her head so I knew that I wasn’t playing up the dramatics of the tone that was used. Ann dialed it back a bit and asked me, “How are yours?” I kept my gentle tone consistent and explained some of my kids’ recent activities and then moved on to Lynn and asked about her son and she showed some photos from his Senior Prom.
I sat at the table with my arms open under the table and my palms facing upward. I recall during the speeches literally sending love and a bright white light to those at my table. I saw the gentleman who looked like Lynn’s father pass by again. I got the long gaze as he came by. I struggled with what to do with that, but clearly at this point in time, and after watching people’s behavior, my thoughts were that nobody was ready to accept the gifts that I have or the messages that could be delivered because they’d be coming from me. I do think that Lynn’s father popped up twice to me because her mother was also at the table. Though they were divorced when he passed, I know that there is still love and hurt there. Better yet, I think that Lynn’s son’s soul is that of her brother that passed away at birth. Again, nobody is ready to hear this.
I tried to chat with my sister a few more times while we were still sitting at dinner. I asked her questions about her work, her dog, and so forth. Still, not getting very far. While at the table I couldn’t help but to notice the “looks” back and forth between Lynn and Ann throughout the evening. At times I see my sister looking at Ann and Lynn’s non-verbal communication, but I could tell that she’s not in on it. She was more the third wheel that was used when they needed a bigger team. I particularly picked up on the looks and vibes whenever my dad walked up. (My poor father kept trying to come over and talk to my husband because he had little conversation at his table and equally felt bad for my husband.)
Eventually, the bride and groom danced their first dance together. They danced to what was my deceased Aunt and Uncle’s song – Ann’s parents. When the song is over, I literally saw my aunt and uncle joined together and waving at me as the song concluded. I smiled and thanked them.
At some point my sister, Lynn and Ann go off and dance. I felt bad for Auntie J. being left alone so my husband and I stayed seated at the table. At one point, when the ladies returned to the table, I was taken aback at what I saw. I saw a gray color around them. Not so much their aura, but more like their skin, hair and bodies, it was like I saw their “toxicity.” (To me, an aura is more the outline energy field of the body and not the body itself.)
My husband and I danced to a slow song. My father grabbed Ann for the dance. I know why my father did it. Ann is a connection to my deceased Aunt for him. She was uncomfortable with it, but that had more to do with her actions than his.
After dancing, I saw my Aunt Maria sitting by herself watching the dance floor. I thought that it would be a good time to go over and try to say something to her. After all, things seemed fine when we walked out of the chapel. I bent down and told her, “Today was really nice, don’t you think?” She turned halfway, gave me a glare and replied, “Yeah, thanks.” And turned her back toward me. I bent down again, thinking I would try again, but decided to just leave it.
I know that she is the pot-stirrer of this whole current family mess. In all fairness, she grew up around similar actions. (When you know better, you do better.) I know that she harbors a lot of anger and resentment which if not released, will turn into disease. I believe it will be bone cancer if she doesn’t break the cycle. I also known that when people stir the pot, they are doing so to put attention on them. For whatever reason THEY need attention so they try to get it by creating drama.
At that moment, I remember thinking to myself that I was thankful (for the first time in my life) for a girl who I went to school with – The Prom Queen. She was also a pot-stirrer and she was great at getting the room to turn on a person. I didn’t realize until now that the aggravation that she caused me years ago actually prepared me for moments like these.
At this point in the evening, I felt that I had only gotten as far as I was going to get with people in the room and that it was time to go. My mom gave me a strange look when I told her that my husband and I were saying our good byes and heading out. (My dad on the other hand was wishing that he could leave with us.)
I realize that my parents are trying to keep their noses clean in this family drama situation. My Aunt Maria is my father’s only living original family member left left so they don’t want to ruin that. Never mind that my father was taught his whole life to keep his head down and to avoid conflict. With that said, if people were treating my sister that evening the way that they were treating me, he would have been all over it making phone calls and having conversations behind the scenes to try to fix things on her behalf. I need to chalk it up to: My parents think that I am independent and can handle this.
Before leaving, we look for my Uncle to say “goodbye” to. I never got confirmation (yet) on the watch that my uncle was wearing at the wedding, but I have a feeling that someday in the future I will. (Refer back to my previous blog.) He was very pleasant and appreciative. A very different energy than my Aunt’s Marie’s. He put his hand on my back when we left and I felt his energy towards me – the energy of touch means more than words.
I am glad that we drove separately and didn’t take the shuttle back to the hotel. It turns out that Lynn was running her mouth on the bus ripping the ceremony and wedding apart with the bride two seats away from her. Definitely not the final words a Bride wants to end her special day on.
The next day, word gets to me that some thought that I was acting “fake” at the wedding and Ann had felt the need to reference me as “someone who flaunts their sainthood in order to find their horns.” At the end of the day I know that people’s issues are their own and their behaviors have to do with how they are really feeling about themselves. Empaths are mirrors to others. We reflect back to others what they don’t like about themselves and what they need to change or to work on. Let’s also remember that empaths don’t do fake.
If I was acting out of my normal range, my husband would have been the first to call me out on it, right then and there on it. I know in my heart that I was acting authentically.
I also realize that I vibrate higher than those I was around at the wedding. As a rule, when you vibrate higher, toxic people fall away from you. They also don’t know how to approach you. (I have learned this along my awakening journey.)
When it was time to head back home, I closed the hotel room door behind me. Before doing so, I paused for a moment. It felt symbolic. Like I was turning a page or even closing a book cover. Perhaps some family healing was put into motion the day of the wedding. Only time will tell.
*Names and some timeline order of events have been changed to protect people’s privacy.
I Have Cried (happy tears) at Parades, Ever Since I was a Child. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I put the pieces together and realized that there was a reason for the tears. I am an Empath and a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP).
Ever since I was a child, I can recall crying at parades. My first memory of this goes back to somewhere between 7 or 8 years old. I recall standing along the curbside a few blocks from my house anticipating how much candy might be thrown my way at an annual town celebration parade.
On one particular day in the month of June, I recall it being early in the morning, maybe around 9am, the sun just to the right of me, I stood waiting for the parade to start. My parents and sister were near me, along with many familiar faces as the town I grew up in was a small, Midwestern town.
The beginning of the parade. like most parades, was marked with a police car and a fire truck. I recall the firetruck at the beginning of the parade, starting its siren to announce the start of the parade. A jolt of excitement ran through my body as the siren blew. Then I experienced a cycle of me smiling, eyes welling up with tears, happiness overcoming me, a sense of pride, and then…the cycle would start all over again when service men and woman would march by, or the Shriners would zip their small cars around the street, or a marching band would stop in its tracks and play a song for spectators.
I was never scared at parades, and it wasn’t the loud noises bringing tears to my eyes. The tears weren’t that of being frightened or even sad. I recall having the knowledge that the tears that I had in my eyes were that of “happy tears” to the best of my description at that age.
It wasn’t until a few years ago I put the pieces together and realized that there was a reason for the tears at parades. (I still find tears coming to my eyes at parades even now in adulthood.) I have learned that I am an Empath and a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). Yes, that is a real term, a Highly Sensitive Person.
Empaths can “feel” and pick up on the emotions of people around them, and people who are “Highly Sensitive” are more aware of and affected by external stimuli than non-HSPs. They are often empaths and internalize everything more deeply — from social interactions to emotions to physical and visual sensations.
Wrap all of this together and at places like parades, I am soaking up the excitement and energy from the music, the crowd around me as well as the swirl of emotions that is taking place when service men and woman and first responders walk by or an honored community member who was picked to be the grand marshal.
In recent years I have learned different techniques to shield or protect myself from the energies around me. I will say that I have NOT YET perfected protecting myself fully at large, energetic events like parades, but I am doing better.
To this day, I still cry at parades (as well as at theater play performances, or when the Anthem is sung in front of a large crowd, at Superbowl half time performances, and even during large firework displays.) I find the energy to be overwhelming, but in a good way.
I’d never forgive myself if I got a premonition where I could be instrumental in saving lives and I didn’t act correctly or fast enough to do so.
Last night, I wound down by watching the 9:00pm news in bed. About 9:30pm I got an intense feeling of what felt like an explosion. It was so intense, that I tried, and did feel it, a few more times to be sure that is what I was sensing. At this time I don’t hear an actual explosion or anything. I just felt it in my body. Of course my mind wanders as to “what could this mean?” I usually jump to the “worst case scenario” like war planes dropping bombs, or terrorist situations. I eventually settle myself down and fall asleep.
The next morning I woke up to the news that a bomb squad was called into our neighboring subdivision the night before because a kid from a local sports team found a package while out running through the neighborhoods during practice that afternoon, and brought it home. The parents thought it looked suspicious, called the police, and then the Bomb Squad was called in. Homes were evacuated as a precautionary and then the package was supposedly determined to be fireworks. It was later detonated in a field around 9:45pm causing the large explosion type sound that some neighbors claimed to have heard. (I was sleeping so I did not.)
I hate when this happens to me, the premonitions or visions. I never know how serious to take them or if they have something directly to do with me or my loved ones. For example, I’d never forgive myself if I got a premonition where I could be instrumental in saving lives and I didn’t act correctly or fast enough to do so.
Supposedly, premonitions are extremely common and can be realistic or symbolic. The word “Premonition” literally means “a forewarning.” Premonitions are about feelings, or senses, of nervous anxiety and gut feelings that something is about to happen. So, overall Premonitions are more about having a sense or a feeling of things to come. Premonitions can occur during both dreams and during an awaken state, though some would argue that premonitions happen while awake and precognition happens while sleeping. (We can save that discussion for another day.)
I struggle with premonitions because I don’t know how to interpret them or the feelings, signs and symbols that I get. They can make a person feel like they are going crazy!