John Lennon Friday: Lennon in Heaven II

So this entry is a continuation of the first entry on Linda Keen’s book John Lennon in Heaven.

First, I want to address a thought that’s been rattling in my brain:  secrets.  Everyone has secrets.  Not necessarily bad secrets, sometime just an aspect of our history or our personal life that we do not want to share with the world.

Animal communicators occasionally stumble upon people’s secrets if the people have particularly chatty animals.  An example I’ll give you is a fellow I know whose cat is *really* chatty.  This bright cat shared with me in quick succession his thoughts on “Dad’s new girlfriend,” and the contents of his owner’s fridge, cupboards and what was hidden under his bed.  I was confused about what I saw under the bed and asked for more details, and suddenly realized I’d stumbled on to a secret he was hiding from everyone in his life.  It’s nothing bad or illegal, it just reflects the internal conflict this fellow experiences.

This same fellow has teased me about being psychic, and he declares he won’t believe it until he sees some proof.  I know I could tell him this secret to prove myself, but it would hurt him, and be an incredible violation.  So I keep it to myself, and if he’s open to a reading one day, we’ll find some other proof for him.

It gets sticky for this same reason when I have long conversations with John and his friends.  If I felt a great need to be taken seriously, I could completely spill my guts on everything personal we’ve talked about.  I’d probably turn out a few items of proof for the worst skeptics out there, but I would completely violate the spirit in which this information was shared with me in the first place.

And as I read John Lennon in Heaven, I knew Linda had similar conversations with John that were too personal to include in her book.  I could almost see these unwritten conversations as they were alluded to in the brief paragraphs that touched upon topics of grief, separation and fear.

This is why some people are so uncomfortable with it – “Where’s the proof?” they demand.  Well, the proof is in your intuition, and your emotion, in what strikes your heart as true.  If for you, that’s none of this, that’s okay.

Take what makes sense to you and leave the rest.

I’m just going to go through my page notes here, which were hastily scrawled as I read the book.

My first note is on Brian, his last life being Brian Epstein, manager of the Beatles.  John has brought Brian around our house a couple of times, and always he’s wearing this classy, 50s style blue suit which Linda describes in her book.  In the book, she describes Brian rushing through the tranquil meadow because he’s late for an appointment, but he can’t project himself there because he’s supposed to physically walk and enjoy the journey.  This is so funny, this fellow rushing through heaven, a place where *time does not exist* in the same sense it does for incarnated souls, yet he’s stressing himself out and missing the point of his lesson.

John said precisely the same thing to me about Brian as he’d said to Linda, that Brian has issues to work out with women and that he may need to come back as a “chick” in order to resolve them.

Brian showed up in attendance to the Humanities concert last Friday.  I’ll get into more detail on that experience in a later entry; the short of it is, it was a mind-blowing, face-melting experience.  It turns out we were there to discover a particular new local band – as they set up, John’s voice chattered excitedly in my right ear, “These guys are good!  This is going to be good!”  John began to bring in a few of his friends, one of whom was Brian.

OF COURSE, the band of nineteen year olds covered one of John’s songs (Come Together).  This kind of thing shouldn’t surprise me anymore.  John loved it.  During an interlude, Brian started to talk about how the band could and should market itself.  He said distinctly, “Young men just cannot be expected to dress themselves,” and he shook his head at the band’s dirty jeans with faded underwear showing over the waist.  Brian had said the same thing about the young  Beatles, when he stepped in to manage them.

The first third of Lennon in Heaven is a direct conversation between Linda and John, which is the section that will be most satisfying to the Lennon fan within.  The rest of the book is an intimate detailed account of Linda’s personal spiritual experiences with John.  As you read this keep in mind this journey was transformational for both of them; I think this part of the book makes the most intuitive sense to other people who are on a similar journey.  (Remember no journey is better than another, it’s just that people walking in a similar direction can communicate together more easily.)

Through the described journey, Linda and John confront fear, a consistent theme for myself lately.  I’ve been learning that fear can be a teacher.  While we can be tempted to run screaming from the lesson, fear certainly gets our attention.

The underground caverns she and John explore in this journey to confront fear, there is the recurrence of spiral designs upon the walls.  “It’s the skipping rope,” John said to me as I read this, and I understood that the spiral is another way of describing what Albie explained to me in this entry.  A spiral is just another way of showing the skipping rope, an expression of our reality and the nature of all of creation.

When you manage to get your brain around this concept, however briefly that may be for me, in these moments I understand the irrelevance of fear, thus the need to face fear for what it is – an illusion.  I find this state of understanding difficult to hang on to when I’m completely awake and engaged in my day, but I think I’ll improve with time.

The book approaches the concept of thoughts forming a reality, indeed the reality we experience this very moment.  This another mind-yoga stretch for me.  It is really a different way of explaining the law of attraction and really, another quantum mechanics theory for us ol’ math nerds.

Linda describes her rising awareness, the experience of spending more time with John in Heaven’s lower levels, as something I’d paraphrase as raising her vibration.  Lisa Williams says that when a psychic communicates with a spirit in heaven, she must raise her vibration to hear them and the spirit must lower their vibration to meet in the middle.  When Linda goes into a deep trance and leaves her body for long periods of time in order to meet with John in Heaven, I think the affect of raising her vibration for long periods of time has a cumulative effect on her senses.  She describes her experience as becoming increasingly psychedelic, and how this becomes a new normal state of mind.

It makes sense to me that “psychedelic” is really just the perception of MORE reality around us, not less, not “imaginary” or “made up” (though soon you may begin to think of imagination as something literally creative.)

Here’s something interesting from my own experience – did you know that the world, as seen through the eyes of a chicken, is utterly beautiful?  I described to my friend Toni how the chickens see her garden.  The colours are more vivid, everything is surrounded by beautiful, radiating auras.  Every smell is delicious, the earth is wonderful and satisfying to scratch.  “Psychedelic” is the word I used.

Well Toni wrote to me the other day to say she’d come upon a study that demonstrated that chickens perceive and respond to electromagnetic energy trails.  It helps them find food – they can see the energy trails where the insects and slugs just were.

How dull and grey our own perception of the day-to-day world is in comparison.

To quote John from the book, “All human consciousness is striving towards two basic aims: to accept life for what it is, and to learn how to change.”

Sheesh, you know I have two more pages of notes of things I wanted to blog about, but my brain is getting so tired – and I just got up.  I guess it’s not realistic for me to go over all the points I really appreciated or enjoyed in this book.  If you enjoyed these John Lennon Friday entries, I think it’s safe to say you’ll enjoy Linda’s wonderful book.

The Devil’s in the Details

Hey folks – don’t forget!  Free readings for my blog readers this week – please see my previous post.

(that’s a tasmanian devil, in case you were wondering.)

I’ve absorbed several books so far this week:  Conversations with God, Only Love is Real (sequel to Brian Weiss’ Many Lives, Many Masters which I read last week) and Sylvia Browne’s Evolution of the Soul, which is a book on tape.

The neat thing about reading all these books in quick succession is that I’m noticing the common themes, common strings of knowledge.  I think I’m running into different people describing the exact same things, and we’re all coming up with different descriptions or ways of putting words to our experiences because, well, we’re human.  No matter whether you’re a young(ish) psychic like me, or someone like Sylvia Browne who’s been at it for 60 years, it seems like we’re all hitting the same general points.

One thing that made me chuckle today, is the commonality of the idea of a “viewing room” which we enter after we die to review our life.  The first time I heard this was from John, who told me about it in consoling me because I’d missed seeing my friends play in a really kick-ass concert.  “Don’t worry,” he said, patting my shoulder, “You can see it when you’re dead.”

He then showed me the viewing room, but cautioned me against avoiding experiences just because I could always watch them later – no, you must actively participate in your life.

Then, I heard Lisa Williams on her podcast radio show describe such a viewing room.  Then, just today, in Sylvia Browne’s audio book, I heard HER describe such a room.  The thing is, all of our descriptions of this room will vary, but the room itself will be there.

And this makes sense anyway, doesn’t it?  Why would everyone want the same architecture?  Lisa Williams says there are no chairs in the viewing room, that you must stand and fully experience these things that you accomplished, avoided or inflicted upon others while you were alive.

The viewing room I was shown is much less serious:  it’s a spacious yet cozy movie theatre.  It’s full of my friends and loved ones, my guides and advisors, the theatre floors are very clean and the seats are 50’s style, cushy, comfortable, with wooden arms and backs that rock gently.  Everyone is wearing 3-D glasses and laughing, enjoying themselves.  There is the best-tasting buttery popcorn available to all, and I feel like I’ve won an oscar and everyone is there to see My Movie.  They’ll moan and groan over my mistakes, they’ll laugh with me and cry with me, but always I’ll be surrounded by love as I review the film of my life.

Sylvia Browne describes the viewing room as somewhere between what Lisa and describe – a celebration, less serious than a courtroom-setting, more formal than a night at the movies.

Thing is, when it comes down to it, who the heck cares who is right?  Chances are, everyone’s viewing room is going to form to suit what that person needs to review their life.

I had a conversation with my parents this weekend.  Pretty much every time I talk to my mother, I end up doing some sort of reading, which I love doing.  Last time I asked her how Dad was doing with “this psychic stuff” – and doesn’t she go and get him on the phone, put him on the spot and start drilling him in front of me?  I don’t know what that was about, but I suspect my Mom was trying to be “right” about something.  I gently said that I felt Dad was being put on the spot, and it’s perfectly okay to have a healthy skepticism.  P.T. Barnum had a word for people who’d believe anything you tell them.

Through that awkward conversation though, surfaced the idea that my Dad is not so much skeptical of *my* skill, as his own grandmother was the famous psychic, thus he’s not really allowed to utterly disbelieve it.  He tends to focus on frauds, manipulators, people who try to profit from other’s misery and lonliness under the guise of a psychic.  This seems to be a common worry that people have – they’re worried they’ll be taken in.

My mother *loves* Sylvia Browne.  I admit, I used to fake sick on Wednesdays so I could stay home from school with my mother and watch Sylvia on Montel Williams.  Sylvia has proven a hundred-thousand times the legitimacy of her skill – for heaven’s sake the woman comes from 300 years of documented psychics!  She has credentials up the wazoo.

But Sylvia makes a lot of money.  She supports and employs a lot of people with this money.  She founded a church.  She puts out at least one book a year.  This, for my father, raises the red flag.

I’ll digress along a similar point here with another anecdote:  Last week I went to my neighbour Cathy’s house to buy dogfood.  She’s trying to start a pet-supply store out here in the sticks, and for now she just sells bags of pet food out of her house, where she also runs a rescue for pit bulls, bless her.  I navigate through the intense gazes of these powerful dogs, pick my bag of food and notice one of Cesar Milan’s books on the bookshelf.  As Cathy’s writing up my bill I say, “Oh hey, I have the other Milan books if you’d like to borrow them.”

Wow.  Was that the wrong thing to say.  She went into this 40 minute tirade about how much Cesar Milan bugs her.  She used examples of other people watching his show then doing something stupid with their dogs (things which were NOT on Cesar’s show, by the way.)  As she went through her laundry list, I’d try to direct her back to what Cesar actually says and does, which is his message – not what other people say he says and does.

It was really difficult to communicate with Cathy at all because she got really loud and intense.   Finally I found out that she had not read most of Cesar’s book and had only watched a couple of his shows on you tube.  Then she said “I agree with 80% of what he does…”  and I thought Well you’re harping on the 20% you don’t agree with!

So it is with Sylvia Browne.  I’d say I agree with 90% of what she has said on TV and in her books.  So why did I have this tendency to focus on the 10% that doesn’t sit right with me?  Sylvia never said she was infallible.  She’s a human being just like me, and the beauty of being human is that NO ONE is ever 100% right.  Just today in her audio book I heard her talk about how she used to go around the world telling people that angels don’t have wings.  Well didn’t a big old angel with wings show up in her foyer one day, and now she has to this detail back, after 10 years of lectures?

So it is with anyone, really.  If we just walked around the world allowing everyone around us to be 20% wrong, how much more peaceful would our lives become?

How much of life are we actually living, anyway?


I enjoy listening to a lot of psychic podcasts.  You can subscribe to them through itunes, and it’s all free to download.  So far my top faves are:  Lisa Williams, Christopher Reburn, Laura Stinchfield (the pet psychic) and Fog City Psychic (I forget her name right now).

I enjoy listening to other psychics talk about their work because it’s good to hear how different people come down on the same issues.  Such as ethics, for example.  I’ve mentioned before that Christopher Reburn (and John Edwards) are of the opinion that if they receive the message, the message is from God and they are duty-bound to deliver it.  Lisa Williams was recently asked on her show what she thought of those psychics who go up to random people on the street and just start giving them messages.

Lisa comes down in the same camp as I do: first, look at the content of the message, and the context of delivery.  I do find a lot of my own social filter goes out the window when I’m in medium mode, but I to try to stay in touch with my empathy and consider how the message would affect the person hearing it.  It also helps, when I remember, to ask for divine help with the delivery of the message – there are some really good word-smiths on the other side.

One thing I’m seeing a lot in these podcasts, sometimes from the psychics and other times from the callers, is the idea of our “Charts” catching on.

Charts is something that I first heard from Sylvia Browne – the chart we come into life with being our basic plan, our checklist of experiences and things we want to accomplish.  This chart includes optional experiences, and options to dial up or down the intensity of these learning experiences.  But I have never heard Sylvia Browne say “Everything happens for a reason.”

I have heard a lot of other people say that “Everything happens for a reason.”  Even terrible things.  It’s true, we do come into life with some difficult experiences charted into our lifetime… but that doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens to us or our loved ones was planned.

Christopher Reburn has also said that he doesn’t believe anyone comes into this life to experience abuse.  He doesn’t believe the destruction of the twin towers on Sept 11th was a charted event – that no one was charted to die that way, on that day.

I remember talking having a conversation with Sweetie and our spirit guides about people being on or off of their charts, and how sometimes people can die “accidentally”, meaning, die when they were not charted to exit.  This happened with my friend Ben, who was then obliged to reincarnate quite quickly so he could take another crack at his chart.

If someone can die accidentally, despite the best efforts of our guides, then there must be an element of randomness in all of this, right?

Sweetie’s guide showed me how some people can go so far off of their charts that they can begin to wreak havoc not only on their own charts, but on the life plans of others around them.  In this example, Clara showed me a frantic guide who called in all kinds of angels and teacher-guides to help her – they were all sending speeding traffic towards this chaotic person trying to take him out of his incarnation, get him back on the other side so he would stop doing damage to others’ missions.

It was a pretty funny image, actually.

Personally, I’m convinced that there is this unplanned element to incarnation on this planet.  Some people have suggested to me that even this randomness could be orchestrated by some all-knowing higher power.  That perhaps Ben was after all, meant to die at the “wrong” time so that he could have rapid incarnations within the same family.  I suppose that’s true, but it doesn’t sit right with me.

Neither am I comfortable with the idea of such a catastrophic event such as the recent tsunami in Japan as an uncharted event – the ripples of such an event effected millions of people. 

I don’t know.  At the end of the day, we do have free will.  We make the choice every day to walk out our door and live our life, or to stay home and miss an awesome concert.  We live with the results, either way.  It can’t all be planned.  It can’t all be random.


Ethics & the Big Goodbye

I did a reading for a friend of mine, Sara, who was understandably skeptical.  That’s OK.  I’m cool with healthy skepticism, so long as it comes with an open mind.

Sara wanted me to read for her boyfriend’s dog, who had passed on.  She wasn’t sure if I could get a read on the dog, since it wasn’t her dog, and she had never met him.  I asked why she wanted to do the reading, and she said, “To get to know my boyfriend better.”

I said it’d really be better if her boyfriend came in too, so that the dog understood he had permission to talk about him.  That was a pretty cut-n-dried ethical call, I think.

So instead, for fun, we decided to do a past life reading for Sara. 

I prefer to work with a person’s spirit guide or a loved one on the other side, so this person can give me messages relevant to my client.  I haven’t yet figured out how to read someone’s acashic records for myself (Sylvia Browne uses this term to describe a person’s life plan and records) and honestly, I think it would be too much information to sift through.  I think it’s better for me to consult someone on the other side who has the client’s best interests at heart.

I asked Sara, “Is there someone on the other side, or a spirit guide who could help us?”

Before she finished saying “My grandfather,” he was there.  He was wearing a red shirt and making small things out of wood.  I described him and asked if that’s what her grandfather looked like – Sara shouted “YES!” and burst into tears.

At the time, I thought I was seeing the “tears of truth” – it’s completely normal to suddenly feel like crying during a psychic reading – it’s our bodies and emotions giving us confirmation that the connection is real. 

A few days later I was talking to Ellie, with whom Sara had discussed her reading after the fact.  Ellie gently suggested to me that it would be better to give people a chance to adjust to the idea of talking with a deceased loved one before putting them in touch.

See, Sara and her grandfather were so close, and she’d never completely processed his death.  Some people look at death differently than I and my family has – death is an end, a finality, the Big Goodbye.  It was utterly wrenching for Sara to talk to her grandfather without having had even thirty seconds to adjust to the idea of the possibility – and to suddenly be confronted with such indisputable proof that I had *indeed* contacted him.  How else would I know about his favourite red shirt and his favourite hobby?

In my family, and my mother in particular taught me this, we have always believed in reincarnation.  My mother talks about our Great Aunt Ruth who watches over all of us from heaven.  I haven’t experienced the complete gut-wrenching grief when a family member has passed on, and I’ve been incredibly blessed to not (yet) have to endure the passing of someone I’m *really* close to.  I have to remember to be careful and sensitive around this issue, approach it carefully.

I did endure the sudden and tragic deaths of several friends when I was a teenager – there was a horrible rash of suicides at this time.  I went through a dark period of depression and felt suicidal myself, but again my mother saved me – she got me to a great therapist STAT. 

And then, there was the shocking passing of Ben.  I’ll tell you, I was so happy to get back in touch with him this month.


Since moving away from our home province, Sweetie and I have made many new friends.  We love them dearly.  It’s just that there’s something about hanging out with people from your home town, people you’ve known since you were 15, people who know your history, your thought processes – it’s just so grounding.  We miss our home town friends, and the idea of being able to talk with Ben whenever we wanted was utterly gratifying.

But in the past two weeks, Ben’s grandmother, who is also on the other side, got in touch with me.  She explained that Ben has been procrastinating, that he died accidentally and needs to reincarnate in order to move forward with his life plan.  But Ben, horrified of the pain he caused his family with his premature death, scared of the possibility of doing it *again*, refused to move on.

It became clear over the next few days that Ben was not really *working* like most spirits on the other side, who have completed their life plans and have taken on new tasks such as protecting loved ones who are still incarnated, or whispering inspiring ideas into the ears of our scientists.  Ben was sort of stagnant.  He asserted he was inspiring rebel graffiti artists, and showed me an incredible creation on the side of a water tower.  But this is not what he was supposed to be doing, and he knew it.
I asked Ben if he would consider crossing over completely and reincarnating on Christmas night, Dec 25th, the ghost party we’d invited him to.  Ben’s grandmother informed me that there is a new baby boy coming into his same family, and that he had the opportunity to reincarnate as his mother’s grandchild.  He said he’d think about it.

Christmas night rolled around, and all the spirits we’d invited showed up.  We watched the Simpsons, the Sound of Music, enjoyed coffee with Bailey’s, fireball whiskey and Yagermeister.   I narrated the thoughts that popped into my head as the conversation slowly meandered around various topics, until we finally landed upon Ben.

“What would it take, Ben, for you to feel okay and safe about reincarnating?  How many angels?  Do you need an additional spirit guide?”

Ben expressed again his fears of repeating history, dying too early again and inflicting so much grief on his loved ones.  He shared with me his mother’s extreme grief.  He showed me his own grief and paralyzing anxiety.

It was an hour or so of working through all this with Ben.  The emotions were so overwhelming I cried myself most of the time – not racking sobs, but a slow, continual leeking of tears from my eyes, and the need to control my breathing and direct the emotion out my feet in order to stay focused.

Eventually, the other spirit guests in the room, Ben’s guide and Ben’s own grandmother convinced him he was protected.  Accidental deaths rarely happen twice in a row, and Ben would return to his family as a new baby, but fortified by an additional spirit guide and a small army of angels.  This little boy will be so well protected.

And then he left.

And then I really started to cry.  Because then it hit me – I will never talk to Ben again.  Damn, even as I type this I’m tearing up again.  This is what it’s like to say the Big Goodbye.  And while I know I’ll see Ben again in heaven, it won’t be the boy from my hometown. 

I am so happy to see him go, and so sad to feel him gone. 

So this is an experience to bring forward, to help me be compassionate and aware of my client’s feelings before reintroducing them to a loved one on the other side.  Some people have already said the Big Goodbye to their loved ones.  And now, I can begin to imagine what that is like.

My First Hit

When you receive confirmation that information you gleaned from your intuition is correct, it’s called a “hit”.  It’s a moment to celebrate – you did it right!  Yay!  You’re doing it!

Your first hit is often the moment you say to yourself, yes, I really am on to something here.  I am a bit psychic.

Holy shit.

It’s at this point that you probably start researching in earnest, seeking out podcasts, soaking up anything and everything in order to develop this ability, so you can get another hit.  And another.  And maybe, one day, begin to rely upon your intuition, find a way to flip the internal switch that allows the information to come pouring in.

Hey, maybe one day you can make a living as a psychic.  (Not that I want to do that.  Well, maybe I’d consider it, if/when I become really skilled.)

The largest block I’ve encountered in learning from and reaching out to other successful psychics who have many confirmed hits, is the heavy blanket of Christianity that covers all explanations for intuitive information.  There are oodles of books talking about the Arch Angel Michael – Sylvia Browne talks about her “tube from God”.  Inevitably, psychic development encounters religion.  You can’t talk about the “other side” without addressing what the afterlife looks like – and Sylvia has produced a ton of books talking about the other side, Mother & Father God, angels of various rank.

Sylvia Browne has had thousands of confirmed hits – who are we to argue, right?  Well, that’s another entry.

Back to my first hit.

It was in June 2009.  I was on vacation in the place I would move to six months later and make my new home.  I noticed a missed call on my cell phone from our petsitter.  I tried to call her back, but was unable to contact her, so I figured I’d give what I’d learned in all those pet psychic books a try.

I tuned into my cat, Leo.

It occurs to me as I write this, that I don’t know why I chose Leo, as I have one other cat and two dogs.  Leo is the animal I’ve had for the longest, so maybe I thought it would be easiest to get in touch with him.

I clearly visualized Leo in my mind, and then thought of our minds connecting through a beam of light from my forehead to his, that this connected us.  I then felt and heard him sitting in my arms, his front paws over my shoulder, purring into my ear.

I asked him to show me what was wrong.  He showed me his own stomach – almost like I had x-ray vision.  He directed my attention to his stomach and showed me there was a ball of hair and food in there that he could not pass.  He then gave me the feeling of nausea.  Then I *knew* or had a very strong hunch, that all I needed to do was tell the pet sitter to give him hairball laxative.

When I did get in touch with my pet sitter later, she told me that Leo had been throwing up regularly, even water.  She’d taken him to the vet and had him x-rayed, which showed he had a pretty large hairball.  The vet gave her hairball laxative.

A hit.  My first confirmed hit.

I’d like to say that it completely changed my life – it would make a great piece of writing.  What it did was provide me with proof that I can in fact do this.  Animal communication can be a real thing for me, a grown woman, an accountant (at the time), a mathematician, a science nerd, a skeptic who wants to believe.

I found the proof I needed to believe it is possible, for me.

Next up:  Claudia Hehr, the animal communicator who proved to me what I knew intuitively, that animal communication is real, confirmable, and comes in quite handy.