My Akashic Journey ~ Chapter Eight ~ Multiple Timelines and Simultaneous Lives, Oh MY!!!


So I’ve been minding my own business, working on a new teen trilogy idea and entertaining myself with the research when I’m not conducting private Akashic Readings and totally NOT thinking about what the next chapter of My Akashic Journey will entail. Although, I do admit, I did give it a wonder for a brief moment, but I figured I had some learning and growing to do before it would come together, as is usually the case.

I had decided that my young adult novel series will take place in Boston. I’m not even sure why – it was just a given. Didn’t even think twice about it. Which is weird because I have not been to Boston in at least 15 years, and, to be honest, even though I had a great time there in my college days, I don’t miss it much. But I do miss my college buddy and Pleiadian family member who lives there. And thank goodness she does, because she has been very instrumental in helping me decide what Boston high school my main character will attend and which neighborhoods are most ideal for the setting.

It was during our discussion on Thursday, July 11, 2013, that the beginnings of this chapter began to manifest when my Pleiadian sister said: “Forget Fenway. It’s all been rebuilt with high rises and is snotty. You could put them in an upper apartment on Queensbury. They could have tall windows overlooking the Fens out toward Mass College of Art and the Fine Arts Museum.”

Long pause for consideration. I had spent a LOT of time in that neighborhood walking my dog, shooting hoops, running the cinder track around the patchy football field. So close to Boston Latin, the oldest and most famous high school in the city, which was also the first school I thought my main character should attend, until I remembered it’s a private school.

“Wait!” my Pleiadian sister said, “Put them in a condo on the eighth floor of Charlesgate! You know the building and its history, so you can play with that!”

Whaaaaat??? They converted our old college dormitory into condos? Seriously?!

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I lived on the eighth floor the first couple months of my freshman year at Emerson College. The place was a total dump with nasty stucco walls that looked like plastered cheese curds and a lethargic elevator that never fully made it to the floor landing. I usually had to step up, or even pull myself up onto the landing from inside the elevator – until I got smart and started taking the stairs.

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“I lived on the eighth floor freshman year,” I said. “Totally haunted!”

I wasn’t keen on the idea. The old Charlesgate Hotel is massive. Just… HUGE!!!  I had been thinking more of an old factory loft-style apartment with exposed brick walls and majestic windows for my novel. Although I suppose that type of setting has been overdone.

What is really weird, here, is that I mentioned this very building in Chapter Seven of My Akashic Journey as Exhibit C of my guides’ presentation of information regarding multiple lives and timelines:

Then my guides show me Exhibit C, that ornate tile décor I noticed in my dormitory building at 4 Charlesgate East in Boston, Massachusetts, when I was a freshman at Emerson College. I recognized it immediately and realized “I’ve been here before,” with utmost clarity and certainty. Then I frowned. “But I’ve NEVER been here before,” I reminded myself.

I must admit that I didn’t really fully “get it” until Friday, July 12, when I began researching the building. I first started with the present-day stuff for my novel. If you Google 4 Charlesgate East, all kinds of realtor listings for available condo units pop up. And, yes, the eighth floor unit is currently available “again.” Massive renovations have taken place since I lived there in the fall semester of 1989. It’s nice and all, but hardly worth the $790,000 asking price for the 2 bedroom/2 bathroom,  1,003 square-foot condo. Unless you really enjoy living with perverted and temperamental ghosts, that is.

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As I continued to scroll through the Google listings, I came upon an interesting link to an article describing the old Charlesgate Hotel as “the most haunted building in Boston.” Built in 1891 by architect J. Pickering Putnam, the building served as a luxury hotel until 1947, then there are conflicting stories about it being a dormitory for female Boston University seminary students (THERE’s a contrast!) or a dorm for male BU students from 1947-1972. Maybe it was both. Twenty-five years is a long time span, so who knows for sure? Over the next nine years the building is said to have been a tenement building for “wayward types” until Emerson College purchased it for use as a dormitory in 1981. The building then sold, again, around 1994/1995 (more conflicting reports) and has since been converted into condominiums.

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So I read through a number of articles on these “haunted Boston” type sites. Some of the stories I read about the haunted happenings were familiar. Others were not. Most were far more over-the-top  than what I experienced myself (personal items shooting across my dorm room with great force, dead-bolted doors flinging open with a crash at two a.m., caressing and tickling feelings on my calves and thighs while lying in bed, and the clicking sounds of my roommate’s cosmetic cases being opened and closed while I was the only one in the room. She later asked if I had messed with her stuff because it was all out of place!)

When I moved from the very small eighth floor (every article makes a big deal out of the fact that the eighth floor cannot be seen from the street and some go so far as to say that it had been purposely built that way as a secret hideaway for mafia activity, but I always got the feeling the eighth floor was an addition, and not part of the original building) to the larger second floor, I began to hear more and more student accounts of ghostly encounters. One resident assistant spent most of her time sitting in the hallway because the negative energy in her room was too much for her to bear. Just telling me about it made the hairs on her arms stand up, and she showed me her goose bumps. Right around that time a story appeared in our school newspaper stating that several female students had reported a male ghostly figure dressed in black and wearing a black hat and cape getting fresh with them while lying in their beds. I believed it since I had felt the mysterious caressing and tickling nonsense when I was on the eighth floor, but it never occurred to me to report it to anyone, especially after my roommate looked at me like I had three heads when I told her I felt our room was haunted.

Even though I was only eighteen and from a small, rural area where I’d lived in a fairly new, one-owner home with no spooky history, I was pretty chill about all the spirit activity I suddenly encountered without warning. As I sat and thought about it on July 12, Scarborough (my higher self) communicated to me that Charlesgate was, actually, a portal.

Wait? What? A portal?!!

Yes, a portal to other dimensions and timelines.

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Okay, weird. The first time I had ever encountered that word  was when a psychic friend came over to my house to investigate all the wild spirit activity I had been experiencing at my current home in southwest Michigan. She told me she felt a “magic gateway” in my basement that dug down way deep into the ground and shot way high up into the sky, but also curved out, northward, toward the fireplace, and vibrated like a giant tuning fork.

“The spirits are attracted to it,” she told me.

Hmm. And all this time I thought I was on some kind of Native American spiritual site or burial ground. (Not in a “Poltergeist” (the movie) kind of way, but in a far more sacred feeling sort of way that is peaceful until a disturbed soul wanders in seeking my assistance.)

Another portal, I thought to myself as I stared at a photo of Charlesgate on my laptop screen. Some of the articles were going so far as to say that the architect, J. Pickering Putnam, had been rumored to dabble in the occult and that he had purposely designed the building with materials to attract dark energies. The movie Ghostbusters suddenly came to mind, and it all seemed so crazy. I searched for more information on the architect, who was a Boston Latin alumna (coincidence?) and a Harvard graduate who traveled to France to further his studies at The School of Fine Arts in Paris.

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Paris? Really? Coincidence again, I wondered as I stood and stretched. Suddenly a vision of the ornate decorative tile I recognized as an 18-year old flashed in front of my eyes. I shook it away and glanced at my laptop screen again. Architect. The word was the only clear thing on the page.

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“Architect!” I realized.

Oh. My. God.

I felt the instant connection. My twin flame’s Akashic Records said she had been an architect who designed the grand staircase on the Titanic. Was it possible she had also been this J. Pickering Putnam guy as well? And, if so… how is that possible if the Titanic sank in 1912 and her architect self was on the ship? How could she also be an architect in Boston designing and building the Charlesgate Hotel in 1891?

Ohh, here we go with the parallel universe, multiple timelines and simultaneous lives mindfuck again!!! Am I right?

Well, you know exactly what time it is now! Time for a My Akashic Journey reading!

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Okay, so, I know you are trying to help me make a connection to another life by showing me the ornate wall tile at Charlesgate right when I was reading the word Architect on my laptop screen. I feel  a correlation, so what are you trying to tell me, exactly?

The reason you recognized the tile and felt you had been there before was because you had been there many, many times with your husband who was, yes, the architect of that building. And, yes, the higher self of that individual, J. Pickering Putnam, or JP Putnam as he preferred to be called, was Ulron, the twin-flame soul mate of your higher self, Scarborough.

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Okay, so, in an Akashic reading I conducted for her last summer, my twin-flame was told that she had been an architect who designed the grand staircase of the Titanic, of which she was supposedly a passenger when it sunk in April of 1912. So, how is it possible that she was incarnated as an architect in Belfast, Ireland, working on the Titanic while, at the same time, incarnated as JP Putnam, another architect designing and building the Charlesgate Hotel?

They were on two different timelines. Parallel, yes, and happening simultaneously, yes, but on completely different timelines.

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How is that possible?

Well, there are many, many different parallel worlds, dear. We could try to explain it, but it would boggle your brain too much. So, for the sake of your sanity, just know that it is possible and happening on so many different levels with so many different fractals of your higher self that you could not even begin to imagine how it is all kept organized, but it is.

Okay, so, is it a computer program? Like, in The Matrix? Are we a bunch of Sims-type characters? How can you explain
it better?

We just told you that we can’t. It would fry your brain. And most humans don’t want to know. They are too busy being occupied by the system. Too interested in their own Sims-type games to realize they could really be living real lives if they could just unplug. But, what they are doing is very much like what your higher selves are doing. Running programs. Experimenting with different characters. But, actually feeling through these characters who are in physical bodies. But the idea was not to become so mind-centered that you stop living and experiencing. Yes, it is part of the program… to experiment to see how deeply rooted fear can immobilize an entire race. You remember the days when you, as a kid, used to go outside and roam and play for hours and hours with no parental supervision. You were free to explore your world. There were no simulated, computer programmed games to play. And your parents weren’t worried too much about your safety until you started driving their car. And really, then, they were more worried about their car or “the other guy on the road,” than they were worried about you. Not that they didn’t love you, but that their fears and worries were more about financial issues or you being a victim than you actually causing a problem on the road. Regardless, if you sat around in your room on your computer all the time, they would have been more worried about you than they were when you were outside roaming and exploring, and, yes, even driving their car. Because, just 30 years ago, life was very, very different. You were still expected to be socially engaging… or engaged… with people face to face. Not in chat rooms or through simulated online games. The whole idea of incarnating into physical bodies is to fully experience life through all or most of the senses. Many are no longer doing this for they have become so enslaved by the system that even their free time is consumed by the system.

It sounds to me like we are being treated like lab rats. What is the point?

To see if the lab rat cares enough about itself to free itself…  and the other lab rats.

Seriously? That is totally fucked up. And you wonder why so many of us are depressed and suicidal?

We know why you are. We understand fully. But we also know that you all have the power to change it. The question is, do you want to? And, if you want to, how are you going to go about it? Are you going to continue killing each other for power? Are you going to continue to allow a flawed system run by a few elite control you? Your lives? Your loved ones lives?

The problem is that we don’t know how to change it. We’ve got people channeling ETs who are telling us they are coming to save us. We’ve got these other groups telling us that there are some benevolent trusts that are about to gift us with prosperity packets so we, too, can experience wealth and abundance and finally live again. The problem is that this has been going on for years and nothing ever happens. Peaceful protests have been going on and on and on, but nothing changes much. We’re still enslaved by the system. How do we change it?

How do you stop abuse? You walk away from it. You have this power. All of you. Together. You have to disengage. You have stop lending your energy to the system. That is the only way out.

How do you end a game you can never win? You simply stop playing.

How do you starve a system that starves you? Easy. You cut them off. Collectively.

How do you disengage? You have to detach. Detach yourself from fear. Detach yourself from worry. Detach yourself from the lower vibrations that keep you dependent on their system.

We’ve heard all of this before. The majority of the collective does not listen or follow this advice. It seems like the majority of the collective is still deeply asleep. How is it the same or different on other timelines and the parallel worlds?

Each one is slightly different, since variance of outcomes are being explored and recorded. For example, right now, in a parallel universe on the very same timeline as yours, the Trayvon Martin case/Zimmerman trial has seen Zimmerman convicted to a twenty year sentence. Basically, some outcomes are the opposite of what you are currently experiencing regarding human rights cases while some remain the same.

Okay, so are all the people in that parallel universe exactly the same over there as they are here? With the same higher selves?

Some are participating while some are not. Some are the exact same identity “there” as “here” while others are different, but whether they are the same or different, yes, they all have the same higher selves. That is, IF they are participating in that particular universe on that particular timeline.

Okay, so, how does it work – the universe and timeline I am currently working from – are there more than one timeline within this “universe?”

Yes. There are several. We know it’s confusing. Which is why we don’t try to explain it too much.

It seems chaotic. How is it possible to keep it all straight?

The Akashic Records keep it all documented. If you want to keep going with the “lab” metaphor, think of the different timelines as “batches” or “groups” that were started at different times. So, your first group of rats started their testing six weeks ago. Your second group started five weeks ago. Your third group started four weeks ago. So, even though they are all going through a six-month test, they are slightly staggered and the circumstances are changed a bit despite running through the exact same program for the exact same amount of time.

What is the possibility of July 15, 1971 happening on another timeline right now in the same universe with me being born again as the same exact person while I am still alive?

It’s very possible. Or you could be someone different on a different timeline in the same universe, too. Or the same in a different universe on a different timeline… or the same timeline. The possibilities are endless.

What is the point of being the exact same person on the exact same timeline in a parallel universe?

Some higher selves would like to try the same “character” throughout the same time period with slightly different circumstances. It’s kind of like your video game analogy – using the same character to explore a new difficulty level within the same game.

Please explain to me again what the purpose is for higher selves to be living vicariously through so many physical beings on so many timelines all at once. What are they hoping to accomplish by doing this?

There are so many analogies we could use to explain this and none would be completely accurate, but we will do the best we can with the seedling analogy (although no one gets eaten in the end, so, again, like we say, not the best analogy).

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When you plan a garden, you plant many seeds, right? Four or five at a time within one hole. And you will plant several rows of the same kind of seed, right? Because just planting four or five watermelon seeds in one hole may only give you one plant. And that one plant may not even weather the storms long enough to bear fruit.

As you know, even with the same amount of water and sunlight and care, not all seedlings will sprout. The ones that do sprout may not mature. The ones that mature may not flower. The ones that flower may not bear fruit. The ones that bear fruit may not bear enough fruit. Or quality fruit. But the hearty, plentiful ones that bear plenty of quality fruit, those are the ones that truly nourish, right? And nourishment is what every soul needs. So, you know you need to plant a lot of seeds in order to actually nourish yourself. And this is exactly what the higher selves are doing, although they are nourishing themselves with experience – physical experience. They try to nourish you as much as they can so that you will grow and mature and bear quality fruit so that you, in turn, can nourish them. But they know all too well that in order to get the plentiful quality fruit, they have to plant many, many seeds all at the same time.

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Ah, so, there you have it. They are not timeline whores after all. They are farmers!!! All kidding aside, no wonder we hear so much of this “harvesting” language all the time. Now my question is, should we really consider it such a negative thing? I mean, we’re here participating for the highest good of our higher selves. Shouldn’t we want to be the tallest and strongest vine or stalk bearing the most plentiful, nourishing sustenance for our souls? Shouldn’t we just follow the Divine guidance of our higher selves rather than constantly fight against the flow of the current just to satisfy the ego’s insistence for “free will?” Isn’t that, after all, what causes all the complications and drama in our lives? Or is that what makes it “interesting?”

I know some would argue that not exercising free will would make us “puppets,” but, at the same time, isn’t the whole idea of this “game” to ascend INTO our higher selves by becoming ONE with them? Would that really be such a BAD thing? To actually WIN the game by ascending into our higher selves with the Ego setting on DIFFICULT?

Let your HEART answer that question.

My Akashic Journey – Chapter One – Seeking Truth


Don’t you hate it when all you want is the truth and NO ONE can give it to you?

From February 2007 through January 2010, I was on a god damn mission and hell bent to find answers. Before that, I was just sleepwalking through life, content to have a job, personal transportation, a loving life partner, a roof over our heads, two cute chihuahuas and some enjoyable hobbies. I mean, after all, that’s what life is all about, isn’t it?

Well, in February 2007, my mom and best friend in life lost her battle with lung cancer. In her defense, I must say, she never once smoked a cigarette. She hated cigarette smoke, but, in the end, her exposure to secondhand smoke is ultimately what claimed her physical body. At the time, I was not fully tuned into my sixth sense gifts. I knew they were there, but allowed them to lay dormant most of the time. The day of my mother’s death, I held her hand and told her she could visit me anytime. I was not afraid. And I hoped she would visit me in my dreams. Which she did. Early and often. But she also visited me in my fully awakened state, too. Of course, most people don’t believe that, but that’s okay. I know what I have seen, heard and felt, and that is all that matters.

Rediscovering and exploring my gifts

Being in contact with my mother — and, eventually, HER mother, as well — on a daily basis set me into research mode. I read the works of psychic mediums. I played with pendulums and Tarot cards. I tried all kinds of divination tools. I found most of them to be somewhat accurate, but not all that user friendly. Plus, there was that “gypsy” and “witch” stigma attached to them. And I’m so NOT a gypsy. Nor am I a witch. But I was still interested in the “why” and the “how” of these extrasensory gifts.

When I was a child, my mother often described me as “perceptive” and “sensitive” when it came to my empath nature. She knew that I knew things that most ordinary kids didn’t know. I never really told her about the things I saw. Spirits in the woods and shit like that. Somehow I knew she wouldn’t believe me if I told her anyway. In fact, I told no one about any of it. Ever.

Finding and losing my twin flame

Shortly after my mother died, in the spring of 2007, I met someone unlike any other person I’d ever encountered in my life. The first time our eyes met, a blinding light flashed in hers. It was so bright, and so startling, I immediately looked away. And I thought, did that just happen? For real? It seemed so…ScyFy. Fear of the unknown prompted me to avoid her as much as possible the first few weeks that I knew her. It wasn’t easy, since we were playing on the same softball team and running with the same crowd. Not to mention that the attraction was crazy magnetic. Unusual, magical things happened when I was nowhere near her, too, that I just knew and felt were related to my connection with her, although we had not even officially “connected” at this point, if you know what I mean. I never mentioned this stuff to her because, really, how do you explain the unexplainable?

It wasn’t until she first uttered the term “forever love” and I saw this amazing dance of colors in her eyes that I realized that this is what our connection was. An undeniable, undying, unconditional love that had spanned many lifetimes. And, of course, I argued there could not possibly be any such thing. I was 36 years old, after all, and I had already had three long-term relationships. Head took over heart with a literal interpretation. Fear triggered resistance.

Eventually, and inevitably, a romance did blossom, but it was short lived. Despite our separation, I still felt strongly connected. Several months later, we tried to reconnect, but failed miserably. It didn’t make sense. Especially since, even years afterward, I still felt as strongly connected as I did in the summer of 2007. It just wouldn’t die. And no other relationship afterward worked because of it. And still won’t. From almost two years ago, when I first began my Akashic journey, to this very day, which I will note is December 21, 2011. Winter solstice. One year outside the dawn of the new era — Winter Solstice 2012.

Loss, loss and more loss

After these two devastating losses, I truly felt I had nothing more to live for. I had no purpose in life. I’d lost most of my friends, as well. I had tried to express myself in blogs, but that only led to more and more chiding and gossiping among my social circle which left me with nowhere to turn. Except inward. Which, in retrospect, is probably the best thing that could ever happen.

Through deep study, I learned more about past lives, soul groups, soul mates and soul contracts than I could have ever imagined. And then, after a month of reading How to Read the Akashic Records, I decided, after a lot of stops and starts and much struggle and panic and tears, that it was just time to let go of all of this. No matter what I felt, I  just had to accept that whatever the Akashic Records said as my personal truth. Even if it meant giving up on my true love.

My personal truth and purpose

I have pages and pages of handwritten journals full of recorded sessions of my time spent in the Akashic Records. Yes, I could literally write a book. To put it in the simplest terms, I got way more than I bargained for. I learned I was right about some things, and I learned I was wrong about many more.

First and foremost, I learned that I have been right all along about the forever love, twin-flame, sacred-union soul mate thing. And I learned I was wrong about no longer having a purpose once I lost her and my mother. The truth is, I chose to incarnate into this particular life at this particular time with MANY soul contracts.

The first soul contract was made over 700 years ago with a ring of 499 other light beings, Pleiadian in origin, to incarnate into physical beings on planet Earth to help raise the vibrations over a course of many lifetimes and incarnations. My Akashic Records say that I have incarnated 39 times, 37 times as a human being on the planet Earth. My twin-flame soul mate and I have incarnated together all 37 times, in soul contract with one another.

My Masters, Teachers and Loved Ones of my personal records have confirmed this fact through a personal friend of mine. She contacted me the day after I first opened my records and asked if they had anything to do with numbers. When I asked why she posed that question, she told me that when she was napping the day before, her dreams kept being interrupted by a piece of notebook paper on which the message 37 Akashic Record Jen appeared. She said this happened at least five times throughout her dream sequence. When I asked the records what the significance was, they said it was their way of confirming not only that number of lifetimes was true, but that the records, in case I had any doubt, were very, very real.

My soul contract for this life was made with several other light beings, and that was to help two families overcome the negative energy cast onto one by the other. This “curse” has affected one family for several generations. It took me a long time to piece this one together, but, once the records showed me the several “ah ha” moments throughout my lifetime leading up to this truth, it all made sense. The physical family I belong to in this lifetime is the one affected by the “curse.” My twin-flame soul mate is currently involved with a member of the family that cast the dark spell that has not only caused turmoil for the family I chose to help, but has also deeply affected the descendants of the family of the casters even worse.

The spell that was cast specified that all the men in the family I am helping would never, ever be successful in life. It has inflicted generations of depression, physical abuse, alcoholism and personal failure. For the family of the spell casters, it has tortured them with incurable disease, learning disabilities, dyslexia and poverty. The negative energy that stems from both of these families is vast, as everyone they come in contact with is affected by it. This is why my soul group chose to assist this particular “family feud” as their cleanup project. Some of the participants in this cleanup are members of my Pleaidian Ring of 500, while others are not.

In theory, what needs to happen here is for the individual in the spell-caster family to send love to the affected family in order to heal both. The “love” in this case being my twin-flame soul mate. I am told by the records that the higher selves of all parties involved are fully aware of this agreement and that, upon awakening, this gesture will be made, with blessings, by the involved individual who belongs to the spell-caster family. Then, and only then, will the negative energy afflicting these two families be released.

After my twin flame returns, we will join together as post-2012 healers here on Earth through word and vision.

The waiting game

My records have provided many very specific details regarding everyone involved over the past 23 months, all of which have checked out to be accurate. These little nuggets of information are what keep my faith in my twin flame alive. In my heart, I know she will do the right thing. My head, however, is another story. I hope that one day I can report on the happy ending to the first portion of this soul contract. Until then, I wait for first contact from my twin flame.

This, of course, is just one piece of my story. After living 37 lifetimes here on Earth with 499 dedicated Pleiadian family members, there are many, many more. Stay tuned.

Magical Messages


Monday, December 21, 2009 ~ Winter Solstice

I have read that the veils between the physical and spirit worlds are thin on the solstice and equinox dates. I’m not sure WHY this is, but I have read it in numerous articles.

Until my mom died on February 15, 2007, I never noticed much about the spirit world. I’d had creepy experiences in my freshman dorm at 4 Charlesgate East in Boston, MA, back in 1989, (such as objects flying across the room in front of my very eyes) but I never really cared to delve into it. I just acknowledged the presence of the energy and told it that I would respect it as long as it respected me and my property. Things seemed to work out alright after that.

Before my mom died, I had experienced more mysterious things, but, like most people, I would just blow it off as “strangeness” or try to find a logical explanation. After my mom died, however, I really began to notice things…and realize them for what they actually were, rather than making excuses. Cupboards opening, oracle cards being bent, jewelry pieces being disconnected, objects being moved, and, yes, candles lighting themselves were some of the little things that happened around my house on occasion.

I’ve also seen my mother’s handwriting in the bathroom rug, with reminder messages…as if she’s still alive…and she and my grandmother actually appeared in my bathroom mirror one day when I was scrying. Normally only my spirit guides show themselves to me in the mirror when I’m scrying, so seeing mom and grandma that one day was a total shocker.

This is why people think I’m crazy, by the way, because I have opened myself and my third-eye chakra to the spirit world. A few years ago, I would have thought it crazy, too. My attitude was: why talk to dead people? That’s creepy. And weird.

Actually…they’re NOT dead. Just their physical body is gone. Their energy is with us until they decide to move on (whether that is to reincarnate or become a spirit guide is entirely up to them). There is really nothing creepy or weird about it. It’s totally natural. We know this when we’re wee little tykes, but we’re taught to unlearn everything we know…because it’s “creepy and weird.”

Until someone with whom you share unconditional love dies, you may never understand this. Even AFTER that person dies, you may never understand it. But, if you are brave and willing, it may just be worth your while to sit and hold someone’s hand as that person leaves the physical and crosses into the spirit world. I guarantee you that person will be eternally grateful for your willingness to be present as he or she faces the ultimate fear in life…which is “death.”

Holding someone’s hand as the soul crosses from physical to spiritual opens the door for you…if you wish to accept it. If you tell the person crossing you wish to hear from him or her, you will, IF that really is your true desire. The connection will never be lost.

My personal gift is clairaudience, or telepathy. I can hear the thoughts of others — both in the physical and spirit worlds. Usually I only hear thoughts that are directed toward me, so rest assured, this is not an invasive talent. I don’t purposely try to read people’s thoughts unless they are trying to communicate directly with me.

How do I “know” this talent is real? Well, when I receive a thought from someone, and then a text, phone call, email, or IM shortly thereafter from that very person that states something similar, it’s pretty much a huge cinder-block hint that this IS my talent.

So, as you can guess, normally I HEAR from my mom. Especially on days when I am really struggling or stressed, my mom will come through with a reassuring word or sound motherly advice. Sometimes other things will happen, such as her handwriting appearing in the bathroom rug, or I’ll get a glimpse of her full-body apparition (very rare), or I’ll see her in the mirror (twice). Mostly, if I see her, it’s in my dreams. All of this is magical. It is something I truly treasure.

On Monday, December 21, 2009 (winter solstice) my mom came through again. Several times. December 21, 1934 was her birth date. I had a hard day, and every time I thought of her, sadness and tears welled up within me. She would immediately say, “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here. I’m always right here,” every time. I finally managed to settle down later that evening. I remember that I had lit five colored candles in my living room for the angels I work with on a regular basis. Once I had finished my session with the angels, I blew out all the candles and went to take a shower. When I came back out into the living room to turn off the tree lights, I noticed one single candle burning. A white candle. One I never lit.

I sat down on the couch and stared at it. How the…? What the…?

And then my mom spoke. She said, “You don’t have to miss me. I am always here with you.”

When I told my best friend from high school about the candle that lit itself she told me, without skipping a beat, “It was your mom. She lit the candle for her birthday.”

That amazed me, because I did not tell her anything about hearing from my mom right after I noticed the dancing flame of the candle I never lit. She just knew.

It’s nice to have confirmation from my friends that I’m not crazy, weird, or psycho. That may have been the most magical message of all.