When we left, I didn’t feel as if I had given the group an entertaining time. I think some may have left thinking back to the beginning of the lecture and agreeing that ghost hunting was indeed much like watching paint dry and they would probably never do it again, while I think others felt the adrenaline of helping, not just hunting.
So next time you watch one of the paranormal shows, look to see if the teams are mocking, hunting, hurting, or healing the field. It will indeed open your eyes to the Other Side.
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thirty-seven
Remember Me
“I’m afraid I’ve been forgotten.”
It was 2:45 a.m. and I’d been awoken by the dead. I was startled to open my eyes and see the lost spirit of a man in his sixties with beautiful blue eyes and dark brown hair standing next to my bed. I moaned and then felt guilty. For the past two weeks I hadn’t slept. My bedroom had been a revolving door for the dead, which meant that I was exhausted in body, mind, and spirit. I was tempted to put a “Do Not Disturb—that means even the dead” sign on my door, but had a feeling that they wouldn’t listen. Heck, the living didn’t seem to care whether I was busy or tired and needed rest, why would spirits care?
I grabbed my cell phone to help light my way to the family room, trying not to trip over the obstacle course of animals on the floor. The pets were all so used to the chaos in the home, and ghosts or spirits just didn’t seem to startle them much; it didn’t comfort me any to think that would their response be the same if a criminal broke in.
“Now what’s your problem?” I whispered.
“I’m afraid I’ve been forgotten,” the man repeated.
“Who do you think has forgotten you?” My tone rose slightly. It was almost 3 a.m. now and I was in no mood to play charades or guessing games.
“My wife. She’s stopped talking to me. She doesn’t visit my grave and I’ve only been gone … ” He thought for a moment. “Maybe two years.”
Time doesn’t mean much to the Other Side, like it does to us, so I wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t sure how long it had been since he'd passed on. If you ever watch paranormal shows, you might see investigators asking the spirits if they know what year it is or to tell them what year they think it is.
“Do you visit her, though … ?”
“Pete. My name’s Pete. Yes, I sit by her at night and I watch her cry, but I can’t help her. I don’t want to see her cry, but I don’t want her to forget the good times that we had. We did have good times. I don’t want her to forget who I was, but I’m afraid she’s only remembering the sickness, the sadness. How do I help?”
Now normally I am visited by those who need help to cross over, or those confused and lost. Sometimes I have spirits who ask me to give a message to their loved one, but I will not be an ambulance chaser and search out their loved ones like the character in the show Ghost Whisperer. Pete’s predicament was different, though. He was actually looking for a counseling session himself.
“You help by showing her the happiness again. Give her a happy sign. The sadness won’t go away, but it will fade, and maybe if you show her something that made her happy, she will smile and not cry. It takes time, Pete. You may be in paradise, but those living still have to deal and cope with the loss.”
Pete nodded.
“And by the way, why are you upset she doesn’t go to your grave? You aren’t there,” I asked curiously.
“Yes, but I get all of her attention when she is there.” His eyes flashed for a moment and he continued. “But I’m sure that it just makes her sad to visit.”
“So you know what to do, right?”
“I was an engineer, Kristy. I was never good with romance when it came to being alive, and now I have to romance her while being dead? Women … ”
“Night, Pete.”
Every single day there is tragedy, and every minute of the day someone loses someone who is their world and their reality has to change. Those who die aren’t lost, even though it may feel like that as we mourn the loss. In your mourning, though, don’t forget to remember the good times and know that they are trying to comfort and give you signs that make you smile. Love doesn’t die; it continues to live on through the soul and the spirit.
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thirty-eight
Blooming
Her name was Allison. The apprehensive way she approached my office door made it clear she had never sought a consultation of this kind before. I greeted her with a smile and a hug and led her to the couch to chat for a bit. She didn’t make an appointment to connect with anybody on the Other Side or to hear what her future might hold, but instead she needed some life coaching. Or at least that is what she had ordered.
Allison, a pretty lady with long, light brown strands that she held messily on top of her head with a large purple clip, went on to explain what she wanted out of her life situation. As I always do, no matter the service you sign up for, I was checking in with the Other Side to see and hear the truths behind the lines. She told me that she had recently lost her job in the accounting field and that her dream was to open a bakery. Although she was often told she was a great baker, she didn’t know how to do it on a large scale and had never run a business. She needed money. She needed investments and hadn’t a clue where to start. It had her so stressed out that she was going to leave my office and start submitting applications to Target and J.C. Penney because she was so afraid that her unemployment wasn’t going to pay the bills, pay for Christmas, and … on and on and on. The pressure cooker of her life created scattered energy. You could see it in her face, hear it in her voice, and I could see her guide’s frustration because her fear of the future was helping to create exactly what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to work at Target or J.C. Penney. She didn’t want to be broke. She didn’t want to be unhappy. But she was heading straight down that path. Now you might be saying, “But Kristy, you sometimes have to do things that you don’t want to and she has to have money!” Yes, that is true, but …
What happened next was like a scene from a movie. A lady who looked much like Allison, only forty years older, came forward from the Other Side to connect. She smiled at me, tears streaming down her face with the love that she felt when she looked at her daughter, but also sadness because Allison couldn’t see or hear her.
“Allison, your mom has crossed, right? I have her here and she wants to talk.”
Allison looked at me as if I had just told her aliens had landed and they were going to take her away for a bit. But then the message sunk in and she began to sob. She shook her head for me to continue.
“Please tell her that I have always believed in her, but it is my fault that she even went into accounting to begin with. I wanted something stable and steady for her. She was always in her element in the kitchen. Hair mussed, creating … ”
The message was passed along, and Allison laughed.
“It’s true. She didn’t want me to ever have to rely on a man for an income. After my father left us with absolutely nothing when I was eight years old, she learned real quick what being independent meant and she taught me that steady and stable wins the race. Now, isn’t that funny that in this economy that isn’t necessarily so?”
Her mom sat down next to her and the breeze of the energy change moved a picture on the wall that was painted with the words “Believe.” Allison quickly turned around at the noise and then looked back at me for an explanation.
“She’s sitting next to you and wanted to get your attention.”
“She always used to tell me that she believed in me. I forgot about that. It has been a long time since someone believed in me.”
I smiled, tears forming in my eyes. “Ready to get to work?”
Allison’s energy brightened and she happily nodded. You could feel the fear from just minutes before begin to evaporate as she realized that she had cheerleaders.
I won’t go into details of her business plan, but I will tell you that although she hasn’t (yet) opened her bakery, she is not working at Target or J.C. Penney. Instead, she is now in the field she so longed to be in, learning how to run a business. She has an investor interested in her ideas and her accounting background did indeed help her, since as part of the business she has to project numbers for inventory. Mom knew what she was doing, after all.
I rarely treat myself to fun. A sad truth. But I hadn’t been feeling well, was exhausted and energy depleted, and decided that not only me, but also the family, deserved to have some forced family fun time. And so on a Saturday we set off for lunch and then to see the movie Tangled. Now, call me silly, but I even cry at cartoons. There is a moment near the middle to end of the movie where Rapunzel was sitting in a boat with Flynn awaiting the release of the lanterns, something that she wanted so badly to see, when fear took hold and she began to worry that she might be disappointed that it wouldn’t live up to her high expectations. She asked what she would do then and how would she cope. Flynn told her that no matter what happened, she would go on to find a new dream.
When we experience fear or frustration, we immediately tense up our body, mind, and spirit, which hinders the flow of what we do want to come to us, and we begin to visualize everything that we DON’T want instead of what we DO. So, if you are experiencing frustration (or fear) with any aspect of your life—career, money, love, etc—take a few moments a day visualizing how you want that area to look. When you begin to say negative things like, “I will never have money to do the things I want,” say “Stop” and then repeat what you do want—“I have enough money to do the things that I want.” It takes some training, but before you know it, the things you don’t want will begin to stop happening and the things that you do want will start flowing. Now, we are always tested, so be on guard so that you can pass the test. And know, always know, that there are those who believe in you and that with every dream accomplished, or even a dream failed, remember that the most important thing is for you to continually dream the dream. No matter what.
I recall going through one of my several tough patches and falling asleep crying in my pillow and waking up feeling lost. It wasn’t until I allowed myself to see through the fog of life that I realized that I was keeping that fog around me—nobody else was. It was a hard lesson for me to learn, that I was essentially causing the stagnant pain around me instead of dreaming of new possibilities. My thoughts throughout the day (and the afternoon and the night) were essentially everything that I didn’t want in my life, and yet I was the one feeding it and helping it grow.
If you don’t want weeds to grow in your garden, you pull them, you don’t feed them, right? And yet, that is exactly what we do every single day. You want a love life? Then don’t focus on not having a love life. You want financial freedom? Then don’t focus on not having any money. You want a new job? Then stop focusing on how much you hate your job and start looking for a new one! If you continue to live in the same way, day after day after day, you are sure to get depressed and sad, so create a new day with new thoughts. Every night before bed, ask yourself what you want the next day to be like. Every morning, as soon as you awake, become aware of every thought that you think because your thoughts help to construct your reality.
Several years back, I woke up one day and thought—if I could create a superhero identity for myself, what would it entail? I grabbed a notebook and began to construct the person who I wanted to be, not who I was. I didn’t add flying or invisibility to my list, but I thought big and I thought larger than life and I began little by little to construct that Super Hero. Instead of going to bed thinking how awful my life was, I would write in my gratitude journal (even if I wasn’t feel very grateful) and the first thing I did when I awoke was to add a list of goals to my day because that way I was keeping my thoughts away from what I didn’t want. I can’t say that it was easy at first, but if I can do it, anyone can! You can’t move forward if you are still haunted by the past, even if you think that you have patched it up and sunk it deep away. If you haven’t released it, it still impacts you in some ways, and by weeding your garden and planting new thoughts in your day, you will be amazed at the blossoms that will appear.
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thirty-nine
Letting Love In
Valentine’s Day may be just another day to some, but to others it is special. Even though we are supposed to express our love to one another each and every day, February 14 is an opportunity for those who can’t easily communicate it. My parents were married on Valentine’s Day, and my mom would always say, “Don’t ever get married on Valentine’s Day because you won’t get an anniversary gift or a Valentine’s Day gift.” That typically wasn’t true, but in her mind it was. I always had a hopeless romantic notion of Valentine’s Day and not one of my husbands (including Chuck) are very romantic in the sense of gift giving. Over time, I learned that I would much rather have a meaningful hug and kiss than a gift. Or maybe I just tell myself that.
Right before Valentine’s Day, I was perusing the seasonal aisle at a local store. A little boy gently took the Valentine’s Day packets down from the shelf, one by one. He would hold each one for a second, shake his head, put it back, and take another down and repeat. I was curious as to what he was doing, so in a non-stalker, non-threatening way, I looked through the candy on the other side of the aisle. About three minutes later, I heard a small voice behind me say, “Excuse me.” I turned to see the brown-haired boy with large green eyes standing next to me, looking crestfallen.
“Yes?” I asked him, now even more curious. I always seemed to be a magnet to kids and cats, which was just fine with me.
“Can you help me choose a Valentine for my mom?”
I looked around to see who he was with. As if reading my mind, he pointed across the aisle.
“My dad is over there and my mom and dad have been fighting lately. He said he wasn’t going to get her anything for Valentine’s Day, so I thought that maybe if I did, they’d stop fighting. I have $5.” He smiled and held up his bill.
I cannot tell you how badly I wanted to cry right then, but I held it together and walked with him to the card section. The cards he was looking at weren’t for adults—they were boxes of cartoon characters that you would give out to a class, but I didn’t want to criticize.
“Well, what was the one that you first thought she would like, the first one you picked up?”
He thought for a second and walked over to a pink packet that had kittens on it. “These,” he proclaimed proudly.
“Then I think that those will do the job perfectly.” I smiled, wanting so badly to give him a hug.
“Thank you. I think so, too. Mom loves kittens.” He held the packet close to him.
“Have a great Valentine’s Day, and give your mom a hug from me.”
He nodded, still looking at his cards, and joined his dad. That little boy had the weight of the world on his shoulders, unbeknownst to his parents, and he was going to use the Hallmark holiday to proclaim his love to his mom and attempt to heal his parents’ marriage.
As you and I both know, that young boy can’t save a marriage, but as I mentioned I am a hopeless romantic and I hope that they saw the hurt they were causing and tried to make amends. Releasing the bitterness and anger against someone you love (or once loved) is more healing than burying it. The more the anger piles up, the more the heart gets weighed down with negativity. We then fall off our soul path.
When people we love hurt us, it is a natural reaction to want to shield ourselves and put protection around our hearts, to keep the pain from entering. A shut-down heart makes it impossible to open up and allow in happiness, great opportunities, and good people. However, when you open your heart, you have room for growth, forgiveness, and change. Most of all, you can let love in, again.
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Epilogue
I don’t believe that I live an extraordinary life, but instead treat each moment of my life as extraordinary. I take in the world around me, and by doing so, I find that extraordinary opportunities surround me. When people call me special or gifted, I admit that I shudder. The expectations of such statements seem much too high of a standard to live up to. I would rather be called “in tune,” as I am merely an instrument, a messenger from the Other Side to this side. I have always strived to be normal, although I live a life anything but.
I have done my share of press and media blitzes, most of which ask me the same thing over and over. “How do you do readings?” It sounds like such a simple question, but the explanation is really quite complex. When I read for someone for the first time, I have my spiel of explaining that I talk to angels, along with guides, both the client’s and my own, who give me information that I then pass along to them. I also talk to those who have crossed over and they also pass along pertinent information that can be validated—sometimes immediately and other times not until the client rids herself/himself of psychic amnesia (that is when the client either gets nervous or blanks out). I am the medium between this world and the other. A bridge, if you will, that helps connect. Sometimes I hear things. Other times I see the spirit. Sometimes I get names. Other times I only get a feeling of energy. I see things in my mind’s eye or get visions that play like a movie. A lot of times they, the loved one or guide, stands right in front of me as clear as day. Sometimes the spirit is talkative and will give me a ton of information that the client can relate to and other times the spirit is quiet and plays hard to get. No reading is ever the cookie-cutter kind.
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