How To Ask For A Sign

The Eye of God – Helix Nebula from www.skyimagelab.com

“The Universe sets out little signposts for us along the way, to confirm that we’re on the right path.” 
~  Michelle Maisto

 

This week’s energies are supportive of connection, communication, signs, breakthroughs and synchronicities (you can read more about that here).

But how do you ask for a sign?

I recommend that you ask only once, and then satisfy yourself with the answer as it appears to you.

Here are some things that you can try:

Shuffle your oracle or tarot cards, offer up a small prayer that whatever you do be for your Highest Good, and then shuffle the deck again. As you’re shuffling, ask your question . Say it out loud or hold it as a thought in your head. Either will work.

Choose one card. How you choose is up to you. Split the deck. Fan them out. Top or bottom. Dive right in. There is no right or wrong.  Then really look at the card. Don’t use the book or the ‘proper’ meaning. We are being intuitive here, people! What stands out for you in the picture? What thoughts and ideas do the images provoke? What is the answer that comes to you? Trust that. Don’t ask again.

Ask for your Guide to appear as an animal or some other living thing, some sort of motif that you will associate with them and with their presence.

Image from www.printtuftandfold.wordpress.com

Ask to see a specific image or thing, as acknowledgement of a question, or in answer to it.  Perhaps you are driving and you ask to see a red Kombi van if the answer is yes.  Or you ask to see a particular type of bird or something else you’ll recognise as that sign…

Image from www.justmeblog.com

Ask, and then expect an answer.  Perhaps the answer will be a message on a  billboard, a line from a book, a voice on the radio, the words in a song.  The message will stand out for you somehow, and have a special meaning just for you.

Image from www.joke7x24.deals.lv

Angels are often associated with white feathers.  Guides are often associated with other coloured or patterned feathers.  I have found feathers during some of the most difficult times in my life, and have felt reassured by them showing up for me.

Image from www.angelreach.com

When I sense my Great Aunt’s presence I smell roses.  When my Grandmother is near, I smell or even see gardenias.  A friend smells tobacco smoke when her father is with her.  Sometimes loved ones will create a breeze where there was none, stop or start a clock, or move something.  Whatever they do will make sense to you, based on your relationship with them.

Image from www.allexperts.com

Sometimes God creates magnificent signs, for no reason other than to help us remember the love and miracles in our world…

Rainbow image by Ookami Kouu

And sometimes it’s well-meaning friends who help us know what’s in store for us on the road in life…

AP Photo – Image by Chris Nakashima_Brown

When the road ahead is uncertain, when you need to know you’re supported, when you are looking for answers – it’s okay to ask for a sign.  But do it once, and trust what you get!

♥ And here’s MY sign for you today (Okay, maybe there’s 3…):

Image from weheartit.com

Image from candyprincess4 at deviantart.com

Image from favim.com

Listening to the Universe

Night Sky by Eric Hines

Night Sky by Eric Hines

“Most of the things we need to be most fully alive never come in busyness. They grow in rest.”
~ Mark Buchanan

 

I sometimes joke with my students that my oracle and tarot decks are all broken, because the cards I pull from them for myself so often have one message.

Rest.

Of course today I expected something different.

And I got this:

2016-04-10 16.04.23

I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t groan and roll my eyes…

I so wanted it to be a different message.

But I also know it’s the message I need.

 

There’s a difference between hearing and listening. When you hear, you have a momentary engagement, which quickly passes without making much of an impression. When you listen, you take the message on board and pay attention.

I’ve learned that when you ask the Universe, the message keeps coming up until you finally listen and apply the wisdom being presented to you.

I’m ready for a new card. But that won’t happen until I’m rested. Time for me to listen.

How about you? Do you ever get the same card, or the same theme, over and over?

What do you do when that happens?

Much love to you from Snooze Central.

Nicole <3 xx

 

A Snapshot of My Psychic Life

Image from uwants.com

Image from uwants.com

“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.”
~ Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

 

As a psychic, I can never truly plan what happens in my life. I’m in the city just now. Working.

I didn’t blog yesterday because it was one of those days .

After one of those nights.

A young girl died.

I took the call a little before ten at night, while she was still alive – but precariously, and caught a taxi to the hospital.

I was there to hold her hand until her mother came.

I held her mother in my arms after her daughter passed away.

I came home as dawn was breaking, and climbed into bed, bereft and emotionally drained.

A short time later the young girl, recently dead, began whispering in my ear. She came back again and again until she’d told me everything she felt I needed to know. I didn’t end up getting much sleep yesterday, or again last night.

Some of what the girl revealed was deeply troubling. All of it needs to be passed on to her parents.

I don’t focus on mediumship as part of my work, usually. It’s just something that happens sometimes. (You can read more here and here)

Yesterday I blew up nine lightbulbs, tripping the safety switch and plunging the house into blackness nine times. All I had to do was reach my hand out to a light switch and BANG. A bulb would blow. Sometimes my hand didn’t even make it to the switch.

After a while I left what lights were on, on. I didn’t touch any more switches. I stayed away from my computer. I stood barefoot on the earth for the longest time.

It happens like this sometimes. It’s as if all the energy builds up in me and needs somewhere to discharge.

Finally, when I was almost on my knees from being psychically available and in that heightened energy for so long, I spoke to upstairs (You know what I mean – I spoke to God, Guides, Ancestors – whoever was listening). “Enough for now, okay? I could use some time out. A break would be good.”

My husband rang five minutes later. He’d gone home to our farm to move our cattle to higher ground before the predicted heavy rain and floods later this week.

“You’ll never believe this,” he said. “I found my glasses.”

Ben lost his reading glasses a fortnight ago. He only uses them for computer work, and he usually keeps them in his computer bag in a little case. He’d had them in the bedroom at the farm, staying up one night working on his laptop. The next day when he was packing up to come back to Brisbane he couldn’t find his glasses. He searched everywhere.

Over the past two weeks we have torn both houses and the car apart, looking for them. Nothing. Finally, Ben asked me to ask my fairy friend, Sokli, who is sometimes helpful with lost things. “Oh no,” she said. “They’re not there, silly. They’re in the other place. The sometimes place.”

In other words, they were gone, so stop looking.

It has happened to us so many times before. Things disappear. Days, weeks or months later they turn up again, in plain view.

Ben’s glasses were suddenly on top of a bunch of papers in a drawer he has checked at least seven times.

Today I’ll be spending time with my friend who has just lost her daughter. I’ll be helping her navigate this terrible next part of the journey. I’ll be passing on the last of her daughter’s messages. I’ve not had much sleep this past forty-eight hours. It gets like that sometimes.

I’m still in that heightened place, psychically. It’s as if my skin holds an electrical charge. Everything looks enhanced. Brighter. More defined. My heart beats a little faster. I feel deeply in my body, and not. All at the same time.

My husband rushed back to Brisbane to be with me, so he’s in charge of turning lights on and off until things settle down again for me, energetically speaking.

He knows, and I know, that when this is all over I shall crash in a heap for a while. That’s just how it is.

This is what it is to be psychic. This is my life…

orbs-15 (1)

Acting On Insight

“She’s mad, but she’s magic. There’s no lie in her fire.”
~ Charles Bukowski

 

Note: All names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved

I was sitting on the veranda at my farm last week, a cup of tea and a notebook in front of me, when suddenly I began to smell smoke. I heard the crackle of flames. I felt a rising panic.

I shook my head, and sipped my tea. Bushfires were raging in other parts of Australia, but not where we live. All around me was green, lush and damp. There was no fire, and no chance of one.

But the image wouldn’t leave me.

Another came. An old woman. White-haired. Stooped. Frail.

One moment I was looking at her, and the next I was looking through her eyes. She was alone, in an old timber cottage near the top of a hill. Scrubby paddocks fell away below her front fence, and behind her were clustered hundreds of eucalypts. The air smelled of smoke. Small embers and ashes floated down on the wind as she surveyed the valley below her. In the background I could hear the tinny sound of a radio. She was looking out the window, wondering how long it would be before the smoke cleared and she could hang out some laundry.

There was one narrow dirt road that terminated at her home, and then meandered back along the ridgeline and down the hill to her daughter’s farm.

Why was I seeing images of this old lady? Why was I in her head?

Image from abc.net.au

Image from abc.net.au

The farm! I knew the farm. I knew the daughter. Margaret. A client of mine. I’d never met her in person, but I’d seen a photo of the sprawling farmhouse. I’d seen a photo of Margaret, a middle-aged woman, and photos of her husband, pictures of their children and grandchildren, and one old photo of Margaret’s mother (the elderly lady in the house on the hill) from when she was much younger.

There was the smoke again. There were the flames. A ghastly understanding came over me. The elderly mother was in danger from a bushfire.

Excusing myself (Dana and Ben were sitting outside with me, so that we could work on my business plan), I hurried inside and looked up Margaret’s details from when I’d done a reading for her a few years before. And then, heart in my mouth, I rang the number.

I felt so stupid, introducing myself, and then telling her my concerns.

‘Yes,’ Margaret said, a disbelieving tone in her voice. ‘We’ve got bushfires here right now. But the firefighters say we’re out of danger. The fires have gone past us and over the next ridge. Mum’s fine. We’re all fine.’

‘No,’ I said. It came out more forcefully than I’d intended, but the conviction was so strong in me at that moment. I could taste the smoke in the back of my throat. My heart was pounding in my chest. I needed to make her understand. ‘The wind will change this afternoon. The fire will swing back around. Your mother is in danger. She needs to leave her home.’

Image by Jack Valance

Image by Jack Valance

‘Really, it’s fine,’ Margaret said to me. ‘There might have been a danger before, but it’s all sorted now. Thanks anyway. Goodbye.’ She hung up the phone.

I went back outside and sat down.

‘Everything okay?’ Ben asked.

No. It wasn’t. I was shaking, I was so upset. I knew I hadn’t made myself clear enough. I felt frustrated and powerless. Briefly explaining the situation to Ben and Dana I then decided to make another call.

Margaret answered, sounding stressed and cross. ‘Who’s on the phone, love?’ I heard a man’s voice say. ‘Tell him yourself,’ she said curtly, handing the phone to her husband. I could tell she didn’t want to speak with me again.

‘Pat here,’ the man said.

‘Hi, Pat, it’s Nicole Cody,’ I began.

‘I know you,’ he replied.’ You’re the lady with the blog. That psychic lady.’

‘Yes. Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m that lady. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I believe your mother-in-law is in danger. The fire is going to swing around this afternoon and she’ll be cut off. I’d be so appreciative if you could go and check on her and bring her back down the mountain.’

There was silence at the other end of the phone. ‘You sure?’ he said finally.

How can you ever be sure of something like this?

Before I could answer Pat sighed. ‘If you reckon I should, I’ll go get Nan. What harm can it do?’

‘Thank you,’ I said, relief washing over me. I said goodbye and hung up. All day I wondered what had happened, and if the family were okay. I went to bed sick with worry.

The next morning I saw that there was a missed call on my phone. Pat had called late the night before, and left me a message. The fire had changed direction late in the afternoon, and it burned the elderly woman’s cottage to the ground. His wife Margaret was sorry she’d been so dismissive. He was calling on her behalf. She was too upset to talk but wanted me to know that her mother was safe. He thanked me profusely.

Image by Andrew Quilty andrewquilty.com

Image by Andrew Quilty andrewquilty.com

When I played that message back all I could do was cry with relief. I’m so glad that I got past my discomfort and called that second time.

It’s worth acting on insights, even at the expense of your own sense of embarrassment or shame. If the worst that happens is that you are wrong, or that you embarrass yourself, so be it. But what if your insight was correct, and you never acted?

I couldn’t live my life like that.

 

Last night I Dreamed of Owls

Image by James W Beck

Image by James W Beck

“I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes.”
~ Anne Brontë, Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters

 

Last night my dreams were all of owls.

The night sky was filled with them.

They watched me from every tree.

They followed me wherever I went.

I was not frightened of the owls. Instead I felt that finally I belonged. Their watchful observation made me feel safe.

Dream after dream, there they were. Eventually I flew up into the night sky with the owls. Auntie was there. My old Grandmothers too.

We flew through the dark night, watching the world below us. It seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Image copyright - David Tipling

Image copyright – David Tipling

I woke briefly, feeling happy.

My last dream was not of owls but Wandjinas – the great spirit beings of the Kimberley. I cannot remember how it ended. Only how it began.

This morning I can feel a shift inside me. I have a sense of waiting, of anticipation. There’s no hurry, but I know with every cell in my body that something is coming.

That’s okay.

I’m ready.

Saving Marlo

Image from thecompletedogwikia.com

Image from thecompletedogwikia.com

“I believe in integrity. Dogs have it. Humans are sometimes lacking it.”
~ Cesar Millan

Note – All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved

 

Last Friday, after a terrible night’s sleep, I spent most of the day napping. I was in a good space, but a worrisome niggle kept bothering me. Not even a worry about a person. A worry about a dog. A dog I’ve never met. A dog called Marlo.

Marlo belongs to one of my clients. He’s a big dog – a Saint Bernard cross – a failed rescue dog who has become the cherished friend and companion of a woman I’ll call Sarah. Each time Sarah has come to see me for a reading over the past few years she has brought pictures of Marlo, and asked about his well-being. He’s one of the most important relationships in her life. Before Marlo, Sarah had suffered from depression and severe social anxiety. This special dog has helped Sarah to get back out into the world again, to make new friends, and to better manage her mental health.

So, as I was napping on Friday, I began to worry about Marlo.

After a few hours of worrying, I ended up digging out Sarah’s details and giving her a call. I felt a bit dumb to do so. ‘Hi Sarah, It’s Nicole Cody here. How’s your dog? I was just thinking about Marlo so I thought I’d call up and say hi.’

Marlo, she assured me was just fine. So was she. Sarah had received a big promotion at work and was currently interstate, doing some training  for her new job. This was a huge step forward for Sarah, and proof of how far she’d come since adopting Marlo. Anyway, Sarah had just skyped home that morning and spoken to both Marlo and the person looking after him. Thinks were all okay. Sarah was grateful for my call, but a little bemused. Me? I was a little embarrassed…

All weekend I still had a sick feeling in my stomach about Marlo though, so on Monday morning I fought my discomfort and rang Sarah one more time.

‘Are you sure?’ I said. ‘Is Marlo okay? I’m still worried about him. Something’s not right and I’m so sorry to ring you, but I can’t get it out of my head.’

Sarah was still interstate, but she called home. There was no response. After several hours passed and Sarah was still unable to raise the person house-sitting and pet-minding for her she rang a neighbour who went round to check on Marlo. The neighbour ended up breaking a window in the laundry, when he saw Marlo collapsed on the tiles.

The poor dog had been locked in the house since Friday. There was a bowl of food left out, but Marlo had knocked over the big bucket of water and had been inside for four very hot days, most of that time with nothing to drink.

The neighbour took Marlo straight to the vet, where they are treating him for severe dehydration. He’d also badly injured his paws trying to dig his way through the laundry door. Luckily, he’s expected to make a full recovery.

The person who’d been minding Marlo? She met up with a guy and that was that. She packed up and left that poor dog alone, locked in a house, without letting Sarah or anyone else know.

I’m so glad I called to check on Marlo and insisted that Sarah follow it up. Sarah’s going to bring Marlo round to visit me when he’s all better so I can give him a proper hug.

Meanwhile, Sarah’s boss is a pet owner who completely understands. He let her come home from training straight away, so that she could be with Marlo while he recovers.

If you’re a dog lover like me, please send Marlo a little extra love and healing energy. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Thank you!

Image from  dogpichub.com

Image from dogpichub.com

Talking With Dead People

Ghost by mcnealy

Ghost by McNealy

“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.” 
~ Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

One of the first things I always tell new psychic clients (besides that I don’t do predictions, lotto numbers and other wishful, unempowering stuff – which my clients are all wised up on beforehand anyway) is that I don’t do past lives or dead people.

It’s not that I don’t believe in them. I do. In fact BELIEVE isn’t even the right word. They exist. Just like trees, the sun, the air we breathe. I often find past lives fascinating, but don’t tend to work with past lives because my focus is on helping you make the best of THIS lifetime.

Read more about a past life experience I worked with here – The Baby Who Needed to Speak

And dead people?

‘Dead people’ fall into two categories for me. There’s the deceased souls who are happily ensconced energetically in where ever that place is that we go after we cease existing here in the physical. Ancestors, dead relatives, friends. These are the souls that mediums often work with. Sometimes they come through for me, but it’s not work I seek. Just because we die doesn’t make us all seeing and all knowing. Dear old Aunt Martha may not be the best person to be advising you on your current career and life issues. I have other sources to draw on!

Then there’s the other category of ‘dead people’. These are the souls I call the ‘transitioning dead’. They are no longer in physical bodies, but for some reason they haven’t moved permanently into that peaceful place souls go when we repose between lives. There are many reasons for souls to be in that transitory place, and one of them is unfinished business. They feel that they can’t depart until certain things have been done or understood, by themselves or by people that they love.

Image by Neha Gupta

Image from Neha Gupta

Right now I have a transitioning Soul hanging out in my space. Not usually something I’d do. But I know they are taking comfort from being near me – a bit like finding a calm, safe place to anchor your boat and rest after weeks of stormy seas.

This person first turned up, the night before last, in my lounge room. I could see them suddenly materialise in front of me as I was (and now I must confess…) watching a Star Trek DVD. My dogs saw this person too. And there was this subtle pervasive smell (not unpleasant) that hasn’t left since.

My husband knew something was up. Both of us had goosebumps, and he said the colour drained from my face. I felt that too. It was quite a shock.

As I was watching this dead person appear in front of me Ben quietly turned off the TV and sat in the corner, calming the dogs, while I did my thing.

I’ve never met this person before. But a friend asked me if I could help one of their friends who’d lost someone they loved. And an hour before I’d done a healing meditation and offered up a prayer for those involved.

So, here I am. Dead person and me.

We’ve had several conversations in the past twenty-four hours. I’m learning a lot. About a lot of things. I’m taking the unusual step of holding this person in my space until they’ve finished what they need to do to allow them to transition.

Two things stand out for me, that I thought you might benefit from knowing.

The first is that this dead person’s mum has prayed for them, regularly and often, and the dead person says that they have felt every one of those prayers and the prayers have helped them come to a good place in themselves and to be calm and resolved.

The second is that the dead person was sure there would be a ‘hell’, and to their surprise, death is nothing like they’d feared or expected. ‘Hell’, they tell me, is our own thoughts and emotions, but outside that is only love. And this person’s mum, praying daily for their dead child, has helped for that connection back to love to happen.

That’s why this soul is still here now. And that’s why I’m helping them. Because it’s all about love. It’s always all about love.

If you’d like to read more about the enduring nature of love between the living and those who have passed over you might like these posts:

Alice’s Lifelong Invisible Friend

Smoke Alarms and Lost Souls

The Power of a Father’s Love

Image from Myspace Things

Image from Myspace Things