How A Psychic Turned Me Into A Believer
Once you get past the “woo-woo” therein lies the truth
Dim lights cast shadows across the floor. Sitar notes float through the air. An older woman dressed in flowing scarves sits in front of a crystal ball.
This is how I pictured a psychic when I was younger. Perhaps this image was born from carnival fortune tellers or a Nancy Drew mystery.
As a teenager who considered herself a deep thinker, I found this concept a bit hokey. I put my faith in science and concrete facts.
All that changed when I had my first reading. I met a psychic in a hotel room at a Marriott. She wore a business suit with low heels. There wasn’t any music or woo woo vibes. Still a skeptic, I had no idea what to expect.
Of course, some of the things she predicted were general based on my age and appearance. I was in my early sixties and she mentioned that my father was ill and would pass away within a few years. She took a 50/50 chance on that one, seeing as how she figured my father had to be at least eighty.
And she told me she saw my then son-in-law (she didn’t predict the divorce) in a uniform. He was unemployed at the time, but I knew he didn’t aspire to be a postal carrier or work for a fast-food chain.
I shrugged those predictions off, and sat with my hands on the table, thinking this hour was pretty much a waste of time and money.
And then she blew me away.
She predicted I would be a widow. She didn’t actually say when. I knew I was in better health than my husband. But he wasn’t anywhere near death.
At the time, I was very close to my sister’s husband. He jokingly called me his second wife. Within a year of my reading, he was diagnosed with liver cancer. He passed away nine months later.
Upon his death, I immediately flashed back to that meeting in the hotel. I got the shivers, realizing she might have been seeing him and our close relationship. Obviously, the cancer which took his life was already at work during my reading.
A crack arose in my skepticism.
And as so often happens, when something is on our mind, related incidents tend to appear everywhere we look. For the next week, friends began talking about spirits and paranormal events.
I was at my neighbor’s house sipping wine when she returned home. “Omg,” Susan exclaimed. “I had a dream last night that you were sitting right here having a drink.” She went on to explain that her dreams often come true.
The next morning a dove came to visit. My husband claimed it was his best friend who had passed away years ago. It was the anniversary of his passing.
A day later, I was thinking of a friend I hadn’t been in touch with for way too long. She called as I scrolled through my phone searching for her number.
The universe seemed to be speaking to me.
Eager for more information, a friend referred me to her psychic. For this story’s sake, I’ll call her Lisbeth.
Lisbeth’s story fascinated me. She inherited the gift from her grandmother. She told me things come to her in faces pictures and she has to figure out who they are meant for. She has often seen something and had to search for the person involved in order to help them find closure.
She saw our mutual friend’s daughter sitting with a baby girl, before the announcement that she was pregnant.
Lisbeth doesn’t hang up a shingle or stare into a crystal ball. I found it difficult to doubt her authenticity. My skepticism began to dwindle into pieces of kindling.
Curious as to how others felt, I decided to take an informal survey via social media. A few claimed the whole “sixth sense” is a bunch of tricks and magic. Others were on the fence. But the majority of people who responded believed in the ability to “see” beyond.
Their stories ranged from having contact with a deceased loved one, to receiving news that ultimately came true.
One story particularly gave me the chills.
When Beverly’s (name changed to protect the innocent) mother passed away suddenly, she requested that her mother’s wedding rings remain on her finger as a symbol of her great love for her father. Years later, Beverly regretted this decision, wishing she had kept the rings to pass on. Until she met with a psychic who claimed she saw her mother holding up her left hand and saying thank you.
Her story and several like it, gave me the chills.
Of course, none of this is scientific proof. That may not ever exist. Looking for proof goes back to the beginning of time.
The psychic word is derived from the Greek word psychikos (of the mind.) Man has always yearned to understand his surroundings. One of the earliest “seers’ was Nostradomas, as controversial in his day as John Edwards and Sylvia Brown are today.
And as in any profession there are frauds and those willing to prey on others. In 1986, the famous televangelist, Peter Popoff, was exposed for using an earpiece in which his wife would whisper messages about his audience. And then there is the Barnum Effect, named after the showman, PT Barnum. This refers to the gullibility of people when reading descriptions of themselves.
Like anything else, we take from it what we want. If a psychic says she sees a contract in my future, I could take it to mean another book deal. And thus work harder than I would and ultimately make it happen. Or maybe it was going to happen no matter what. And the psychic really did see it happening.
So little is known of how our brains, body and soul connect. Energy is everywhere, evolving, taking on various shapes.
I am no longer that doubting teenager. I have crossed over. Not to the other side. But to one who believes.
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