wife, mother, daughter, grandmother, sister, spirit talker, celestial traveler, bringer of truth, bridger, scribe
Do you see, oh dear traveler friend? Do you notice how you’re adapting to our frequency, the highest vibration that exists in the universe? Yesterday you were shaking, your mind a puddle. Today you come back for more like an inquisitive child, your heart fearless, ignoring the risks. Yesterday you were humbled to talk to God. Today you come seeking more and left humility at the door.
I long ago moved out of the ordinary into the extraordinary. Channeling higher realms and other worlds, I now know that divine knowledge is not a jealously guarded secret but our birthright. Walking multidimensionally is a talent we all have, and the fun begins when we remember.
I come from a long line of odd women… sages, suggestion makers, and such. It seems that my Great Grandmother was the town seer, and my ancestors include Indian medicine women and the first 17 families to settle Andover, Mass. Yep, that’s right, the Andover next door to Salem. Are we witches? Mayhap.
Of course, I didn’t know a lick of this until I got sick.
You journey to places where others fear to tread, have pow wows with beings others would just plain fear. Your purpose has evolved.
I see things. Yes, the dead, walking or otherwise, but also intentions, patterns, and possibilities. With a treasure trove of celestial friends by my side and superglued to God, I paint pathways with words, drops of awareness that enliven and delight. After more than two decades channeling spirit, I’ve learned to navigate life from a higher perspective and be an access point to source consciousness.
When you write, it is like magic coming from your fingers.
“Yes” is the most powerful word in the English language. I said yes to my husband, yes to making Hawaii my home, and yes to upending my life as I knew it to follow my bliss.
My spiritual story is of a woman who wasn’t particularly “all in”… until one day she was. One day I learned to trust. Working with Spirit meant I would live my days smack dab in the miracle zone.
I wasn’t always like this, although “They” say I was. They say I was/am an Empath, and that makes sense as growing up I always seemed to wrap my arms around those who needed an extra helping of love. But seeing spirits, that switch was thrown when I was ill. Pleading with my surgeon to rush the surgery as I was losing my mind, he joked that teenagers would do that to ya (Midwest accent firmly in place) then calmly and with Boy Scout earnestness went on to explain that as the body shuts down the veil drops. Before I could muster enough spittle to start an argument, he went on to say it happens all the time but the medical community just doesn’t talk about it.
I healed but Spirit stayed, much to my consternation. And then one day my mother, ill herself, told me of the stories of our ancestors, my lineage, and her ability to see. You could have knocked me over with a feather, an eagle feather.
Over the years I have befriended spirit guides, ascended masters, ancestors, angels, ETs, and loved ones, and have learned to trust their wisdom. They have shown me through experience, whether joyous or uncomfortable, hysterical, or tragic, that nothing happens without a lesson learned, a high purpose served. Faith is personal and for some no proof is necessary. It took hundreds of experiences before I learned to trust spirit guidance and be willing to live to the level of service that they ask.
I don’t think of myself as a medium or a psychic, but I suppose in some sense I am both. Not big into labels, it doesn’t matter which “clairs” people ascribe to me (clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, clairscent, clairtangency, clairgustance, clairempathy) as I can’t keep them straight anyway. My role is a bridger who connects the dots, notices those who blink back and forth between material and immaterial, and fishes the rivers of cosmic energy netting the most brilliant pieces of consciousness to attune our hearts.