Mummy told me to talk to the Angels…

Image from google.com

Image from google.com

“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.”  ~Jean Paul Richter

*NB – The names have been changed to protect the identities of the family involved in the following post but I have permission to share their story.

On the morning of December 29 my husband and I went down to Byron Bay for an early swim and coffee in a favourite cafe.  The power was out from a storm the night before, and I’d cancelled a day of work.  We had just said goodbye to the last of our Christmas guests and were looking forward to a day on our own.  We felt relaxed and happy.  The surf was gentle, we bumped into friends and shared laughter and news, and we wound our way home through the hills singing along to the radio.

But as I sat under a tree in the back yard I began to feel uncomfortable. Something was wrong, although there was nothing I could think of to make me feel that way.

Out of the blue I thought of Mandy, a student of mine I have not seen for years. The last I’d heard of her she had two small boys. The skin of my arms was covered in goosebumps, and I felt sweaty and anxious. Something was not right with her husband. Something was not right about her kids.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, I couldn’t get a clear picture. I just knew I had to call her.

I ripped through my database until I found her details. The landline was disconnected, but finally I found a cell phone number for her. She picked it up on the third ring.

Of course she was surprised to hear from me, and I made it all the more awkward by blurting out, “How’s Wayne?”

“Oh,” she paused for a moment, a catch in her voice, “we separated just before Christmas. I’ve moved back home with Mum and Dad til we work things out.  Wayne’s changed so much in the past six months, Nic. So depressed and unmotivated, when life is going well for us finally.  I don’t get it! He just isn’t who I married any more. I still love him but I didn’t know what else to do…”

“Is Wayne with you right now?” I asked her.

“No, he picked up the boys for a sleepover early this morning. Why?”

Why?  I didn’t know why. All I knew was something wasn’t right.

Before I could say anything, Mandy continued. “He’s got a place just around the corner.”

“Go. Get your Dad and go there now. Call me when you get there!”

“Why? Is something wrong?” I heard the panic in her voice.

“I don’t know.  I hope not.  Just hurry.”

She hung up and I sat in my backyard with a desperate anxiety. It took three hours before she called me back.

They’d found her husband and three small boys in the family car, the engine running in the enclosed garage, semi-conscious from exhaust fumes. Ambulances took them to hospital. Their two older sons stayed in overnight, their toddler a few nights longer, and her husband is still there.

By some kind of miracle, a tragedy was averted.

Mandy called me again today, and we had a long talk. Two things emerged.

Firstly, one of her sons, Blake, who is five, told her roughly what had happened.  Daddy had put them all in the car and said they were going on a trip.  But Daddy wouldn’t stop crying. Blake hadn’t known what to do, but then he remembered his mum telling him that he could always talk to his Guardian Angel. So Blake said to his Angel, “Please help Daddy. Please stop Daddy crying.  Please help us find out what is making Daddy so sad.”

Blake fell asleep, and he had nice dreams about a kind lady.

Secondly, as part of a routine set of tests, it was discovered that Wayne had a serious thyroid problem. Serious enough to have created the mood swings, fatigue and depression that had led to him growing away from Mandy. Serious enough that he’d gotten to a place where he felt life was hopeless.

He’s getting the medical help he needs.  Doctors are convinced that it is the thyroid issue that created this sudden change in Wayne’s personality.  And the family is going to get counselling.

Wayne and Mandy wanted to share their story. They wanted to reach out to others suffering from depression and ask them to seek help.  Speak with your family doctor.  Get a health check-up, including a thyroid work-up. And reach out to loved ones, friends or a help line and let them know you’re struggling. There is help out there. You don’t have to battle this alone.

In Australia you can contact Beyond Blue or Lifeline, and for people outside Australia you can find help here.

I-believe-in-angelsThe-kind-that-heaven-sendsI-am-surrounded-by-angelsBut-I-call-them-friendsAuthor-Unknown

And as for Blake, I am sure that his childlike faith and certainty helped change the outcome for him and his family.  How can I not believe in Angels?

The Woman I Turned Away…

Evil Woman by SalaBoli: flickriver.com

When I do psychic readings for people, I have a few procedures that I follow to ready myself for our session.  Firstly I close my eyes, centre myself and offer up a prayer for the Highest Good, and then I allow myself to move into a channelling space.  When I am firmly anchored in this energy I open my eyes and connect into the ‘seeker’ – the person I am going to read for.

If I am doing a reading by distance (ie by skype, phone or from a photograph) I do this energetically.  But if the person is sitting right in front of me I like to hold their hands to make that connection.

Image from mywedding.com

Once again I close my eyes, and then I psychically ask permission to work with that person.  When permission is obtained I open myself to any first impressions, and then I open my eyes and begin the session.

In the thousands of people that I have worked with I have only been refused twice.

The first time, I got a clear ‘no’.  I was surprised, as that had never happened before.  And the explanation? It was not ‘Right Timing’.  I apologised, and ended the session.  A few months later the person came back and the session proceeded beautifully – at a time that was perfect, given the sudden changes in that person’s life.

That taught me something valuable – the need to always honour Universal Wisdom.

But it certainly didn’t prepare me for the second person I turned away.

I awoke agitated on that day, with an annoying headache that wouldn’t budge.  Before I’d even begun work my last two appointments rang to reschedule – something that rarely happens.  Trusting in Right Timing, I got ready for my only other appointment that day.  As the time grew closer I felt more and more ill, and my head throbbed as if it might explode.  I wondered if I was getting a migraine, although I’d never had one before.

Finally my appointment showed up, ten minutes late.  I ushered her in, sat her down and began.

My own connection took much longer than normal.  I sat patiently, and when I was finally ready it felt as if I had been surrounded by a heavenly host of Angels, an energy I don’t usually work with.  I felt very safe, very calm and very loved.

Image from poemsbycc.com

And then I took hold of this woman’s hands.

Whoosh.  It was as if I had been sucked over the edge of a deep abyss.  There was nothing. Nothing but darkness.  But the darkness wasn’t empty.  And it certainly wasn’t friendly.

My eyes snapped open in shock, and I saw her watching me.

“Sorry,” I apologised.  Then shutting my eyes, I tried again.

All I felt was fear – my fear – and a deep sense of unrest.  No matter how I tried, I just couldn’t connect. It was as if she was behind a wall I couldn’t penetrate.

I let go of her hands and opened my eyes.  “I’m sorry,” I said to her.  “I’m feeling unwell.  I just can’t work with you today.”  My skin was goosebumped, and I sensed shadow all around us.  All I wanted to do was get her out of my home as quickly as I could.

Image from miserablesongs.blogspot.com

When she was gone I cleansed my house, did a healing meditation, and put myself to bed, completely drained.  It took two days to come back to a place of feeling my normal, optimistic self.

That session really disturbed me, but I was never able to access any more information, and eventually I put it behind me. Two years later an older man turned up for a session with me.  He came through my door very unwell and weak, with a great weight of sadness.  My first instinct was to greet him with a hug.

My connection with him was easy and strong.  And very disturbing.  As I held his hands a bitter taste flooded my mouth and I felt my own body weaken.  My heart rhythm went wonky, and my vision blurred.  A shocking awareness came to me.  I dropped his hands and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘An Old Man’s Winter’s Night’

He batted away a tear. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’m so tired all the time, and I just can’t seem to come right. I feel like I’m dying.” He took my hand in his.  “I’ve got cancer,  haven’t I?  You can tell me.  I just need to know what’s wrong.”

“No,” I blurted.  “It’s not cancer.  You’re being poisoned. And you’re in grave danger.” The information poured out of me.  His wife.  His wife was poisoning him.  And she had done this before, to previous husbands.

“Her first three husbands did all die,” he said to me, almost unbelieving. “But she loves me. She’s stood by me even when my own family turned against us. She’s been caring for me ever since I got sick.”  He pulled a photo from his wallet and placed it on the table between us.

It was the woman I had turned away.

If you want to read more about my life as a psychic, you might enjoy these posts:

The baby who needed to speak

The power of a Father’s love

The unexpected phone call