When I do readings for people, I often wonder what they’re thinking.
Do they wonder if it’s for real? Do they think I research them before the reading? Are the words I’m saying to them making any sense at all? Can they feel the love their loved ones in spirit feel for them?
At the beginning of a reading, I usually ask if my client has had a mediumship reading before. And if they have any particular expectations. Then I launch into my little explanation which goes something like this:
I’m able to connect with your friends and loved ones on the spirit side of life. I can see them, sense them, hear them, even smell perfume or foods they liked to eat or cook. Sometimes I feel how they passed as physical sensations in my body (which can be uncomfortable at times and I have to tell them to back off).
My job is to get out of my own way, trust what I’m feeling and sensing, and tell you so you can connect to them. I’m the medium through which this connection happens.
At least, that’s what I attempt to explain, but I’m more eloquent in written words than spoken ones. Usually I blurt out bits and pieces during the course of the session to explain why I’m hearing or seeing or sensing something, probably as much to reassure myself as anyone else. And then we all laugh, because readings are a good and uplifting time together and with spirit. Sometimes we cry, and that’s OK, too.
The most important things in my mediumship work (from my end of things) are to:
1) ask for the highest and best good for everyone involved,
2) trust in myself and spirit, and
3) get out of my own way.
You get a better reading when I don’t second-guess myself and tell you whatever it is I’m getting, no matter how ridiculous it might seem. When I don’t interpret first, you connect better.
So when you’re sitting across from me and I’m telling you I smell cinnamon rolls or see an Arabian horse or hear a little dog yapping at your heels, know I’m working on getting the clearest, strongest connection with spirit that I can — so you can connect, through the medium of me, to the folks who love you dearly and want you to know they’re still there.