I’m changing my mind about not sharing my wish with you guys. Writer’s prerogative. Once I decided what I would wish for, I knew I would share it with you all:
I have asked for assistance attuning my “psychic ears”. Clairaudience, some people call it. It’s appropriate too, since last year on my birthday Kurt “fixed” something about my hearing so that I could actually listen to one of Nirvanna’s songs all the way through. Apparently I’d been experiencing some sort of psychic echo or feedback that made punk rock impossible for me to listen to – after Kurt fixed my hearing, I was able to listen to Nirvana and actually hear four separate instruments. I could hear the lyrics, and I listened to every damn Nirvana song he wrote. It was an awesome gift!
The reason I’ve asked for this is I’ve considered clairaudience to be a weak point in my practice. I get visuals very clearly, I get telepathic communication like lightening, but the trouble comes when I’m describing an unknown person who has appeared. Usually clients will offer one or two names, and the spirit will not or shake their head, offering charades-like clues.
Recently a client asked me, “Well, just ask them their name. What’s their name?”
Well, shit. If I haven’t heard the name before, it can’t be triggered for me via telepathic communication. As in the last CE entry, when Erik said “Ron Jeremy” I got “Gerry —-“
That’s how my brain translated the energy of his message.
I want to really, physically hear them talking to me. That is my official wish.
So last night, I could feel them at work, making subtle adjustments. I became aware of *why* I haven’t been able to hear them well: for the same reason they don’t move objects near me, they don’t make noises either. It used to frighten me, particularly when I was a kid.
I’ll tell you a story (I know some of you heard this before). When I was a kid, I was a pretty good talker, and I learned language very quickly. I used to talk to “myself” constantly, and I played by myself all the time. My mother said I was great at entertaining myself. She did have a wary eye open for me talking to spirits, as this does run in the family, but I wasn’t talking to spirits. I was talking to animals, and animal spirits. It’s funny how my mother made this assumption, as many people would, that if I’m talking to invisible people I could be talking to actual spirits. But if I’m talking to animals or invisible animal friends, I must have a very healthy imagination.
At some point in my childhood, spirits DID show up. By the time I recognized them for what they were, I was around 8 years old – old enough to have learned that “ghosts” are scary. Nothing they did around me was scary in and of itself, it’s just that I reacted in fear based on the culture I’d adsorbed.
You know that game, “Bloody Mary”? My friends used to play it at sleep-over parties. You’d say a chant, then go into the washroom, close the door, shut off the light and look in the mirror. Then you were supposed to scream because you’d see this image of Mary in the mirror.
Well I don’t know what the other girls saw, because even thought they would scream they were still having fun. I had the impression this was a game and we were just *pretending* to see Mary’s ghost in the mirror. Why on earth would mother Mary come to sleep over parties to frighten little girls?
When it was my turn, I said the chant, went into the washroom, closed the door, shut off the light and looked into the mirror. There, reflected in the mirror, was a woman standing behind me. It wasn’t Mary, I knew that, it was a woman with fair skin, freckles, long 60s style hair and a desperately sad expression. I locked eyes with her in the mirror and stopped breathing. We just looked at each other. Time stopped.
I got scared. I closed my eyes and whispered “go away, go away, go away!” until someone finally knocked at the door because I was taking too long.
I opened the door and the other girls were looking at me, all quiet and a little annoyed with me.
“You didn’t scream.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
Well, that kind of spoiled the game for everyone else.
I have never gone into a dark bathroom, since that day. Even when the power is out, I always take a candle. I realized yesterday that I’m still holding on to the fear of that day, even though I am a grown-up woman now, a self-trained psychic with mad skills, a toolbox full of protection skills and a S.W.A.T. team of angels willing to run interference if anyone bothers me. Looking back, this woman in the mirror didn’t do anything to scare me, except to show herself. I just didn’t know how to respond. Probably, she just needed help to get to heaven, to realize she was dead and therefore free. I sent an angel to that house today, to go collect this woman if she still needs help.
Another burden I carried forward since that day has been a fear of mirrors. This was reinforced with an incident in my childhood bedroom a year or so later.
I was sitting on my bed, reading or doing homework or something, when my attention was drawn to a round makeup mirror. I can’t remember exactly if the mirror was on my desk, dresser or bedside table, that detail is fuzzy. What I will never forget is what happened to that mirror as I watched it: it began to turn towards me. Slowly, so slowly I could hardly believe it was moving at all, it began to rotate so that the mirror, which was facing towards the window, would face me.
I knew, I *knew* that when the mirror was able to reflect my own face, that I would see another face behind me, just like the Bloody Mary game. I was completely paralyzed with fear and I couldn’t move.
But then suddenly something rushed up inside me, something that burst through the fear: anger.
SSSSTOP IT. STOP MOVING THAT RIGHT NOW. I was furious. As I write this, I am wondering about putting quotation marks around that statement – did I say those words out loud? I can’t remember.
The mirror stopped moving.
“Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.”
That day I established my first psychic boundary: no one is allowed to move objects near me.
The memory of the Bloody Mary game and the moving mirror has travelled with me through the years, but yesterday something I’d entirely forgotten popped up from my memory bank.
I’d been frightened before by spirit whispers in my ears. Hearing an actual whisper, whipping around and no one is there. As my friends were attuning my “psychic hearing”, this memory popped up and I understood why I wasn’t hearing names or dates. I’d blocked it out a long time ago.
Last night, John and Kurt were having fun testing out my new hearing.
Testing, testing. 1. 2… They’re using a microphone. This is the tool I’ll call up to engage my “psychic hearing”.
Cock. Blow job.
C’mon you guys, I need to practice hearing names.
That was from John. I don’t know who Nancy is.
That was from Kurt. Well “Julia” is John’s mother’s name.
I haven’t gotten any really great confirmation yet that I’m actually “hearing” the correct names. I suspect it’s going to take practice to get the hang of the thing.
Which brings me to my reason for sharing with you guys: How would you folks like to help me attune my psychic hearing? I’m going to offer a limited number of quickie, discounted readings in the near future, specifically so I can work on this new technique. The readings will be up the usual standard – I just want to blast through a bunch of people very quickly, so I can get my new ears calibrated. Like everything else, practice makes perfect.
It’s one thing for me to practice with guys I’m really familiar with, it’s another thing for me to talk to your own relatives and loved ones on the other side, who may not be as skilled as John or Erik in making themselves understood.
Oh this reminds me of a lovely grandmother of a client last week: she said she’d been taking classes in heaven to learn how to flicker the lights in her grandkids house, so they’d know she was there! I thought that was awesome and hilarious, this idea of taking classes in this golden-age home setting so you can talk to your incarnated grandchildren, like learning to sew moccasins.
Stay tuned for the details of the “attuning Kate’s psychic ears” special!