by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary, Your Life
I was giving a reading, and pretty early on, I told my client, Sophie, that it felt like she felt guilty, that she was bearing guilt, a “hidden guilt” (the exact words I was given), and it was keeping her from manifesting some of her dearest desires. When she asked when the guilt started, I felt around psychically, like I do, and said, “in your mid-20s”.
Sophie told me about something she was doing at that time, which might be considered guilt-worthy by some, but claimed she didn’t feel guilty about it, that she was over it.
I continued to get this phrase “hidden guilt” throughout the reading, and suggested she follow up in hypnotherapy to discover the “hidden guilt” that was keeping her from enjoying her life.
Finally, toward the end of the reading, I got the suggestion to recommend a book. My logical mind started to search around for my metaphysical and self-help library titles, then I heard, “Hidden Guilt” again.
So I Googled it. The first entry in the search was it. It’s a book. The subtitle is “How to Stop Punishing Yourself and Enjoy the Happiness You Deserve.” Here’s the link to it on Amazon, if you’re interested: http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Guilt-Lewis-Engel/dp/0671737139
Sophie said, “I say that! I say, I feel like I am punishing myself and that’s why I don’t have what I want!” She was off to get the book when we hung up.
Yes. Every. Time.
by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary, Your Life
Something fun happened at the coffee shop today. My psychicking world crossed over into my coffee-schlepping world. We have a regular whose name is Elaine. For the first time, as I was getting her coffee, I heard (in my mind’s ear) “Lainy”. So I kind of asked, in my psychic way, what that was. And it was her late mom, who called her that when she was a child!
So I went to Elaine and said, “Hey, your mom used to call you Lainy!” And she was startled–she said, “How did you know that?” And I said, “She just told me.”
Elaine said, “Who told you?” I said, “Your mom. She said to tell you hi.”
Elaine kind of glanced over her shoulders, as if she might be on a hidden camera. “What’s going on?” I said, “I’m a medium! And your mom says hi.”
Elaine was very touched and said she wanted to talk to me some more later. She said, “I’ll have some questions for you, but that’s probably not how it works, is it?”
“YES, IT IS!” I replied.
And here’s my question for you
If someone said something like that to you, what would you think? If I walked up to you and said, for example, “Your grandma says to say hello to you, her polka-dot monkey,” how would you feel?
by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
At the very end of a reading the other day, I asked the client, is there anything else you need to know?
She said, “Just if there is anything else, maybe that I don’t know to ask.”
I felt around psychically, like I do, and got a clear picture of a button AND the WORD “button”.
I told her and said, “It could be a name. Is there someone at your work who is called button?”
Yes, yes, there is. And the person’s actual LAST NAME is BUTTON.
by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Tales from the Psychic's Diary, The Psychic Has Pspoken!
As you may know, I have worked some (long and tedious) months at a local coffee shop, to help make ends meet, provide health insurance for myself and my daughter, and for free mochas, the free mochas being the main reason.
The case study in sociology that this has turned out to be is nothing short of astonishing. For example, some customers treat you like “the help”, as if you are not a person, but a servant. Some treat you like you’re a buddy. And some treat you like s**t, plain and simple.
And then there are my co-workers. One little girl, and by “little”, I mean “young enough to be my offspring”, calls everyone “darling”. It’s the most cloying and annoying habit I have encountered at the coffee shop. Well, among my co-workers. Lately. Okay, ever.
Keeping in mind that I was born and raised in the Grite Stite of Texas, here is my planned speech for the next time she does this to me:
“Listen up, missy. When you address me or refer to me, you have two choices: ‘Miss Susan’ and ‘ma’am’. If those don’t suit you, you may alternatively use ‘Mrs. Morrow’ or “your majesty’. And you are not too old to turn over my checkered apr’n!”
I usually get along great with everyone, but this Miss Priss is asking for it!
by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
This one comes from one of my Home Events and it was one of those when I wondered if the whole evening was for this one person. Almost every one of the 10 guests had a reading, but one of them, Eve, got a doozie.
Eve is a young woman, in her 20s, and was a stranger to me. Earlier in the day, the hostess had had a private reading with me and the name “Gladys” came up. Didn’t mean anything to her, but she reminded me of it at the Home Event. So I mentioned “Gladys” and two guests raised their hands to say that they had a Gladys in the family. One of them was sitting next to Eve and I focused on her first.
“Now that I say ‘Gladys’, I am getting ‘gladiolas’. Does that flower mean anything to you? I am also getting little angels.” I held up my fingers to indicate small angel figures. No, that guest didn’t get those references.
The other Gladys-related guest spoke up. She had an angel reference, but the reading didn’t go anywhere from there… Suddenly, I got the famous image of Gov. Ann Richards in the white leather jacket, sitting on a motorcycle, that was featured on the cover of Texas Monthly some years back.
I said, “I don’t know if this is someone in your family with a reference to this, or if it’s actually Ann Richards, but this is what I am seeing.”
Finally, Eve spoke up. “Okay, I have to say something,” she said hesitantly. “Gladiolas were my grandmother’s favorite flower, she always wore an angel pin, and she had a leather jacket. One time, we were in Luckenbach, and she sat on a motorcycle and said, ‘Look at me!’ She was just like that.”
Now I knew we were onto something. Eve’s grandmother had been trying to come through all day! At that point, her images started flooding in. I had never had such clear communication with a spirit before. Grandmother showed me every material thing she had left to Eve, how many people had split her belongings, even the lace curtains that were in her bedroom that she would have preferred to keep in the family.
One of the more touching moments was when I told Eve that she had something lacy, like a veil, that had belonged to her grandmother that Eve would wear in her wedding. Eve confirmed that her mother has the grandmother’s veil and wore it in her wedding and someday, Eve would too.
The information was coming in so fast I could hardly keep up. And Eve was overwhelmed. Finally, she said through copious tears, “We have to stop. I can’t handle this!” Her grandmother had a few more things before we did finish, and Eve made it through.
As it turned out, Eve had started out as one of the most skeptical people in the room. And she said later that her beloved grandmother had only been gone a year—to the date!
by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
This was a really exciting moment in my career as a medium: my first physical manifestation. Now, I am not saying that a spirit made itself visible to the audience—although I doubt that can be far behind—but a spirit did do something physical that could not be missed by anyone in the room, especially her grandson, who wanted so much to believe she was really there.
I was working a Home Event, which I love doing, and we had about 12 attentive guests. One gentleman, Fred, had a lot of questions as I began the group reading. I usually spend some time explaining the process and helping the guests know what to expect. Fred was particularly inquisitive, which was great from my perspective, because I got a much better opportunity to lecture on spirituality. I usually only get to do that in a spirituality seminar, so I welcomed his questions.
I only learned much later that Fred was a pretty hard-core skeptic. As I worked through the spirits who wanted my attention, I found that Fred’s wife had a young male energy coming through from the Other Side. He showed me himself leaning on a rail fence, dressed in what I would call “kicker” clothes: skinny jeans, cowboy boots, Western-style shirt. Fred’s wife said, “Maybe that’s my uncle, but he was about 10 when he died. I never met him.”
I explained that it didn’t matter—he was still part of her family history and he certainly knew her, his niece. I asked if the image would fit, if there were horses where this boy lived. Fred’s wife confirmed that, yes, the boy lived on a large working farm.
We then turned to the boy’s mother, Fred’s wife’s grandmother. We talked to her quite a bit. She showed me her kitchen, as is typical with grandmothers, most of whom spent a lot of time there, and then she showed me myself—or herself looking like me. I was confused and asked if she had looked like me. Fred’s wife said, “Actually, yes, she did look like you.”
Then we had another grandmother, Fred’s grandmother. She also seemed to look like me, which Fred confirmed and added that his aunt also did. Well, the two grandmothers, the aunt, and then my grandmother seemed to be kaffee-klatsching and even formed a little chorus line! They were very happy to be included in the event. I found this pretty amusing. I talked about Fred’s grandmother some more.
All evening, as I was working, I had been standing in front of the TV and a small table, which was laden with knick-knacks. I was wearing a long, gathered skirt, adorned with sequins and embroidery. (No, it was very pretty! Really!) At one point, as I swayed and moved back and forth, my skirt knocked off a little, light-weight cardboard box. I didn’t even look at it as I picked it up and put it back on the table.
Now that I was talking to Fred’s grandmother, I said something about her, to which Fred’s wife responded, “That sounds like Bea, like something she would say.”
I said, “Who? Who is Bea?”
Fred said, “That was my grandmother’s name.”
Just then, one of the other guests exclaimed, “There’s a bee on your skirt!”
Someone walked up and pulled a little box-top off my skirt. It was the box I had knocked off earlier. The top of it had gotten attached to some of the sequins. And this little box was painted to look like a bumble bee!
Grandma Bea had made absolutely sure that Fred could not miss her, could not doubt that she was there. At the break, Fred came up to me and shyly asked if he could give me a hug.
