This “Revelation” may not make me very popular with some people. But I feel it’s important to share. So here goes.
I talk to lots of dead people.
Lots and lots.
Into the thousands now, after well over ten years in the business of being a psychic medium.
My clients want to know: Is my loved one all right? Is he mad at me? Is she sorry for what she did? Is he happy? What does she do in Heaven? What is Heaven really like? (Click here for a little info on that last question.)
First of all, I assure you, your RIP (loved one who has passed away) is definitely all right, okay, happy, fine and dandy, carefree, out of pain, and all around copacetic.
Some of the answers I get from RIPs are similar to the answers from others. For example, many heavenly folks tell me some variation of “Heaven was everything I hoped it would be.” Many answers vary widely, such as the former police officer, whose answer to his wife’s question about what he did in Heaven was, “You’re not going to like this–I ride motorcycles.” (I assured my client that, in spite of her not wanting him to do that in life, he was perfectly safe in doing so.)
One lady announced joyfully, “I get to teach like I always wanted to!” Some have indicated that they take classes. One of my best friends in Heaven went to “special ops” training (he was in the military in life), and usually appears to be helping other souls in Heaven do whatever they need to do, along with guiding some living people, myself included. One woman, whose son died young, showed me her son beside her in Heaven, and asked me, “Have you met my little boy?”
Many people seem to “hang out” with others who have passed, often just one person with whom they had a connection of some kind in life. I see many mother/daughter duos, as well as husband/wife, brother/sister, etc. Sometimes, they are in groups of three, but I seldom see large groups of souls hanging out. Still, I’m often told they “play bridge” or “play golf” or other activities that would seem to involve others, so I can’t tell you for sure about the size of groups.
One man told me that he was surprised that Heaven wasn’t “more churchy”. He apparently expected streets paved with gold and constant worship of God, which is not what he discovered. He wasn’t disappointed–on the contrary, he was delighted by Heaven–but he was surprised, because he had been a devout Christian all his life.
Which brings me to this shocking revelation. Are you ready for it?
No one in Heaven, not one RIP, has ever said one word to me about God, Jesus, Mother Mary, the Holy Spirit, Buddha, Muhammad, Moses, Abraham, saints, prophets, Roman gods, pagan gods, or any other entity associated with a religion. Ever.*
Now. You might argue that because I, Susan, am not religious, the RIPs wouldn’t mention it to me. But what if their living loved ones are religious? Many of my clients are. In fact, I would say a majority at least believe in God. Wouldn’t their RIPs use me as a medium to give them religious information? That’s what a medium does–passes on information. I don’t have anything to do with what the Heavenly Ones say to their living loved ones. And for those clients who are religious, don’t you think they would be comforted and awed by learning that their RIP was holding hands with Jesus or meeting with God every day?
Also, I was raised Christian (half Presbyterian, half Baptist, if you’re counting), and am very well-versed in Christianity and the Bible. Why not tell me about it?
As of this writing, a friend’s wife is dying of cancer. For weeks now, her Facebook page has been flooded with prayers and mentions of God, Jesus, “Our Lord and Heavenly Father”, etc. Of course. I would never discourage any of that. I know the people who posted these things are giving love to the dying woman in their very best and most loving words. And I know she appreciated it tremendously while she was still conscious, and probably now that she isn’t. Prayer is very powerful, whether there is a Jesus or not.
I also feel that religion has its place and that believers are perfectly right to believe. I have my own beliefs and hope that they are respected.
I have offered up prayers myself, as is my wont, although I don’t feel that I am praying to the “church God”, rather to the love and source energy of the universe. It’s an energy, not a being.
So what does this mean? Is there no God? No Jesus? No Moses?
I’ll refer you to this message I channeled some time ago, when a client asked who her angels and guides were. There was a mention of an archangel or saint, and this is germane:
“You mentioned that you think of the archangel because of being born on that celebration day. He is a human creation, although there is nothing wrong with the idea of him. His energy, as believed by human beings, exists, just not quite as people make him to be. He is not a person with wings! For example.”
And that is the answer I can offer as explanation – the energy of each entity exists, but that energy is not human. It is energetic in nature, and maybe it’s something we cannot yet fully understand.
Now. Comment away. What do you think? How do you feel?
*(There do seem to be helper spirits, that I call angels, but that is another topic for another day.)
“God is in the ‘unknowing’. Be glad of what you don’t know,
because that is where God is, that is where the magic happens.
“It’s in the curiosity,
the desire to know
—-that is where creation occurs.”
A dear family friend passed away recently. He was the patriarch of a family that I grew up with, even though they lived in another state. The night before I was to leave town for his funeral, I asked him how he was doing in Heaven. He came forward willingly and we chatted a little. Then he gave me this quote. He stayed with me until I memorized it. Then I went to sleep.
In the morning, I wrote it down and posted it on Facebook. I sent it personally via text to a family member, who was moved to tears by it, because it meant something very personal to him. So I had to make a meme of it.
I hope you like it.
Psychic Fly on the Psychic Wall
At the very end of the reading, 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 even 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 about that, then added,
“It could be a name.
Yes, is there someone at your work who is called button?”
Yes. Yes, there is. And the person’s LAST NAME is BUTTON.
I am crapping you negative.
What the heck? How bizarre is this ability that I have been blessed with?
One of the questions a lot of people ask me is, “How do you receive information?”
Maybe you’ve heard of the “clairs”:
I am all of those psychic “clairs” and more. But I find it is easier to understand when I just say it like I feel it.
I see pictures in my mind’s eye. If I told you to close your eyes and picture… oh, the first school you went to, you would conjure up that image, right? (I know that not everyone is good at visualization, but I do think you’ll understand what I mean.)
That’s how it is when I am working, except I am not coming up with the pictures–they are being put there. By whom? Well, first, the people who have passed away and are now in heaven, my clients’ RIPs.
Besides their pictures, the other ones come from… I honestly don’t know. I like to think they are from the clients’ angels/guides and mine, but maybe they are straight out of the clients’ memories or from the energy of the objects and people they have known. Or somewhere/someone else.
I also “hear” in my “mind’s ear”, in the same way you might get a song stuck in your head. And I get feelings, and “movies” play in my head, and many times, I just have thoughts that turn out to be pertinent.
Many years of practice have allowed me to interpret these images, words, thoughts, movies, and feelings. It’s been a long time since I have had to ask those Powers That Be (angels/guides, energy, etc.) to help me understand what they are showing me.
But HERE IS WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTAND:
I can’t do any of it without a living person to pull it through. The clients always help me figure out what these messages mean to THEM.
Yes, I can and do often talk to my own Powers That Be, and that is when I pull energy and information through myself–or I will focus on someone else. (And yes, there are also times when I have a dream or other vision that comes to me unbidden.)
But this kind of work is very collaborative, and that makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? We are all working together to learn what we came here to learn and to get the messages we need, as well as to help everyone around us get their own messages.
An elaborate and intricate tapestry, that’s what it is. Namaste.
Do you like this post? Be sure to sign up for my free report, free ebook, and free newsletters here. And/or subscribe to this blog. Enter your email on the right and click “subscribe”.
You know about Vision Boards, right? I think they were more popular a few years ago than now, but they are still around. Featured in “The Secret” and about a gazillion teachers’ and gurus’ blogs, Vision Boards are a manifestation tool that simply put your dreams on paper, in visible form. Supposedly, doing this allows your dreams to manifest into reality. There are hundreds of stories of people’s visions coming to fruition, thanks to putting those visions onto boards.
Awhile back, I decided to create my annual Vision Board for New Year’s in a digital format. Instead of poster board and pictures and words cut from magazines, I designed a pretty version in Pic Monkey, an online photo-editing application. (www.picmonkey.com) Here is the second digital Vision Board I created, for 2016.
Then, in November, 2015, I had a new idea: Shrink that baby down to wallet size! I used a 3×5 index card (mine is unruled), created a little border, gave it a title, and proceeded to fill in all the words that described what I wanted out of that title. I admit, I am a Word Nerd, so this is really easy for me. You may need pictures–maybe you can draw little pictures on your Vision Card. (Here is more information about the Vision Card. It includes a story about a Vision Board I made that came true.)
And here is what is super-cool: They work! Apparently, when it comes to manifestation, size doesn’t matter! My fiance, Don, and I just moved. This move has been pretty different from what we had originally expected. We listed our condo for sale back in October or November, just before I created my “our home” Vision Card. I was already shopping online for houses in one of Houston’s suburbs, and I was getting great ideas about what I wanted when we moved. I got really specific about it on my Vision Card, titled “Our Home”.
Fast forward six months, and we have just moved into our new apartment. That’s right, not a house, as we expected. The buyers were in a hurry, so we didn’t have the time we needed to find a new house and get closed before they needed to take possession of the condo. We decided to rent an apartment for six months and then buy a house. Well. Here we are. We found an apartment that we love. Both of us are just crazy about it!
And here’s the Big Happy: Almost everything on that Vision Card is a part of this new home. The few things that are missing we don’t miss too much–and we can save those for the next home. We are already talking about staying here longer than our one-year lease. Yes, it’s that good.
I know you are ready to run right out and make up your own Vision Cards. Happy Visioning!
My step-mother, Jean, passed away in January, 2016, after a long illness. My father was her primary care-giver, so her passing, in addition to bringing great sorrow, was a relief, not only to her, but also to my dad and all the family.
In the days following my step-mom’s death, I attempted to contact her. At first, I was just walking to my car and reached out to say a tentative hello. She answered that she would be happy to talk to me later, but she was really busy at the moment. I told my dad and my step-sister. They exchanged a smile and said simultaneously, “Paperwork!”
Later, I had a quiet moment to ask if I could visit with Jean. She showed up in a garden filled with flowers. She wore the pink dress she wore when she married my dad, almost 30 years prior, and she perched gracefully on a swing whose ropes were entwined with spring blossoms. She smiled at me. “Have you met my little boy?” she asked me, gesturing to the six-year-old blond boy standing beside her.
(My step-brother, Ed, passed away in 1995. I believe that six years old must have been her favorite age for Ed. I also believe that she actually died of a broken heart–it just took twenty years to kill her.)
I asked how she was doing and if she had anything for me to relay to my father. She said everything was wonderful and she was really happy there in her garden. Then, she held out a pink evening primrose, known colloquially as a buttercup, which is a pretty little wildflower that grows, along with bluebonnets and a wide array of other blooms, all over Texas in the spring. She pushed it toward me, and I felt like I was watching her on a screen. The buttercup came toward the camera and filled the frame. Jean said, “Be sure to tell your daddy about this. It’s very important.” (She always referred to my dad as “your daddy” when she talked to me.)
I recounted all of this to my dad, who listened enrapt. At the end, I asked, “Does the buttercup mean something to you?” He shook his head. “No. I can’t think of a thing.”
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “It will mean something.”
In the last long and dreary months of her life, Jean had directed my dad in constructing a garden in their backyard. He knew nothing about gardens and flowers, but she told him what would look good and how to get it done. She loved flowers. I’ve often sat in that garden with my dad, both before and after Jean’s passing, enjoying the fruits of her designs.
Daddy and I both thought that maybe buttercups would grow in that garden in the spring that followed, and that would be the message from Jean that my dad was craving. Spring came early and flowers bloomed, but no buttercups appeared in Jean’s garden at my dad’s house.
Every once in awhile, I would ask, “Have you seen the buttercup yet?” No, no buttercups yet. And I would assure him again, “Don’t worry. You’ll find it.”
One day in March, Daddy drove up into East Texas to do some work. (Yes, he still works at 80 years old! Drives too!) He was enjoying his “new life”, one unburdened by care-giving in which he was free to work and play and make his way, and he was wise enough to appreciate it without guilt. The bluebonnets, Texas’ token flower, distributed across the state thanks to efforts by our First Lady, Lady Bird Johnson, decades ago, were in full glory. The azaleas were past their peak, but the other wildflowers were making their way amongst the grasses and bluebonnets, as well.
Daddy came to a curve in the highway, and there was a tall embankment in front of him as he approached it, filling his windshield, just as Jean’s buttercup had filled my vision. It was blanketed in wildflowers. He saw how beautiful it was and thought, “This has been painted just for me by the Loving Artist. This is my New Life, full of wonder and opportunity and love.”
And then he saw it. Nestled amongst the bluebonnets, unmistakably and insistently blooming, there grew a two-foot circle of pink blossoms–solid buttercups.