I opened my eyes and Tammy was white as a ghost. Her friend Mark had died in the early 90s from complications with AIDS. She had been the only person in his friend group to visit him, and she did so regularly. The song had been their “pep” song, and she said Mark had died unexpectedly after seeming to have rallied a bit.
Tammy was trembling. I was shaken. The psychic was smiling and the guests were all staring at me.
A bevy of questions followed – almost none of which I could answer. I’ve always relied on my gut, but had never had that specific of an experience before. I do not believe in an afterlife, and as I said earlier, I’ve always been a huge skeptic. I couldn’t explain what had just happened.
Others asked me to “read” for them. I didn’t know what to do, and was frankly a bit weirded out. The psychic told me to hold people’s hands and look deep into their eyes. That night, I told a man I’d never met that Sharon, the woman that allowed her friends to pay her for the “right” to molest him as a boy, was sorry and in torment. This huge, burly man crumpled into a pile and said he had never told anyone about that ever in his life and that I had even nailed her physical description. I told a young woman I’d never met that the relationship she was in was not working because she was too focused on wanting a child and that the stress was causing her to not become pregnant and making her act out in anger toward her husband. She left in anger because “people had been talking about her behind her back and told (me) her secrets.” That was not the case.
All total, there were about five instances out of six attempts that night that were dead on. The one that did not work was my partner. Nothing I said was right. I was left very, very perplexed by the whole night.
So, being a student/researcher, I decided to explore it. I worked that summer with the psychic (whom I have befriended) on exploring things I do not understand. She determined that I am, she believes, indeed an “empath” and that I can feel/read/interpret emotions from people that allow my intuition to put together stories. She also believes that the world is full of emotional impressions/scars and that empaths can feel their echoes.
Since then, I have determined that I AM indeed able to do something unusual. I don’t do it as a hobby. I don’t make money off of it. To be honest . . . I do it as a “I’ve had one too many drinks” party trick because that’s about how seriously I take it. However, I do it one on one now because I’ve discovered one too many uncomfortably personal things people don’t want everyone in earshot to know.
Here’s what works best for me to “read” someone:
The expectation is that I will tell them something they need to hear and that they do not tell me anything about themselves or what they HOPE to hear. It works best when the person is an absolute stranger.
I ask for an item that they usually have on their person often. So, a favorite ring, someone’s glasses, etc. It has to be something they have touched often. I’ve found the absolute best results come from pillows people sleep on often.
I will spend five to ten minutes holding the object in silence, allow my mind to wander, and then I will ask for the person’s hand. Then I just talk. I let my mind wander, and I talk.
About 90% of the time, when I open my eyes again, they’re staring at me in disbelief, crying, or smiling an incredulous smile.
I don’t understand it. I don’t get it. I do like doing it, but it challenges my beliefs to the core.
When I was young, I would sleep with a stuffed toy (a Pound Puppy named Cutes). One time, I clearly remember waking up and noticing that he wasn’t under my arm, where he always was. Then out of nowhere, he jumped up on the bed and I instinctively grabbed him and tucked him under my arm. After realizing what happened I threw him across the room freaking out, but then my young mind thought that he was perhaps out walking around protecting me so I got him back and apologized. No reaction from Cutes then, but it still freaks me out when I think about it.
When the wife (then gf) and I were in our second apartment, I saw shit all the time, but the first encounter was the weirdest.
I was hanging curtains, standing on a poofy chair, when I started to lose my balance. I felt a hand on my butt steady me. I finished drilling in the last screw, then turned around to thank… Nothing. I expected my lady there. As soon as I turned around, that’s when the feeling of the hand left my butt. My wife had been in a completely different room the whole time.
Went to pick up my daughter from a dance on the waterfront. I was early so I walked near the lake. I saw something very bright… not moving at about 20 degrees up (Sirius was at about 40 degrees that night). Then I looked down and saw a pure white coyote walking along the water’s edge. Even though I purposefully made a lot of noise so as to not startle the coyote, it didn’t not acknowledge I was there.
I looked back at the “star” which was still not moving but suddenly went from exceptionally bright dimming down to nothing. I looked back to the coyote and it was gone too (although it was a very dark night).
This all happened at 12:30 am.
The next morning I woke up to a phone call telling me my best friend had died in Norway. He died at 6:30 am local time… 12:30 am my time.