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Posts Tagged ‘Psychic’

#Shareyourworld

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 “Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public.”
Paulo Coelho

 

Do you believe in extra-terrestrials or life on other planets? 

#ShareYourWorld

image from mensajesfedgalacticayashtarcommand.blogspot.com   Our Pleidian ‘cousins’

Without a doubt. I can scarcely believe that we, human beings are the most advanced species in the Universe. We haven’t yet learned how to stop killing ourselves at every twist and turn, nor how to love and cultivate our own planet. Give that, I find it dubious that “we” are the only species to be able to travel the vastness of space, and let’s not forget, space is a lot vaster than we have yet to travel.

So, in reality I feel we are fairly low on this totem pole and there are other species who can already travel, with ease the vastness of our Universe, and communicate with others. We would be in a pretty pickle if we found another sentient species – reduced to something akin to hand gestures. Or are we so full of our own pomposity that we expect them to speak in our language?  

What type of pet or pets do you not want to have?

#ShareYourWorld

image from http://www.news.com.au In Cairns, a Golden Orb spider tries to eat a brown tree snake.

Snakes, spiders, ants, bats – anything that creeps, crawls and slithers or reminds me of Vampires!  If I had to make a choice I’d take the Vampire over the bats, I may become the eternal undead, but I wouldn’t have a disease which kills anything it touches – oh wait, they do, don’t they. Still, Twilight reigns!

If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?

#ShareYourWorld

image from http://www.momto2poshlildivas.com Rainbow coloured heart shaped crayons

Purple is my hue, but then blue is too. We were given a rainbow for a reason…. So we could have all those beautiful colours, so I’d have a rainbow crayon which changed colours as you used it. Like a variegated crochet cotton.

What type of transportation would you be? Why?

#ShareYourWorld

image from http://www.caranddriver.com The unparalleled Maserati Quattroporte S

A Maserati Quattroporte S,  because they look so darned hot and the speed…..“I feel the need, the need for speed”. Thank you “Top Gun”.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

#ShareYourWorld

image from naturalhealthwarriors.com   The power of the mind.

Last week brought me some wonderful personal insights and growth… yes I’m being mysterious since it will be part of my blogs to come. I’m also grateful to the many WordPress bloggers who share my blog and their time. It is always a pleasure and has grown to mean something  special.  This week, I’m looking forward to getting the ‘go ahead’ on the new house we’ve just seen. Exciting times ahead, I’m sure of it. Your thoughts and well wishes that we get this house will be greatly appreciated, since I’m sharing my world, I invite you to be a part of mine too.

#ShareYourWorld

image from lifecoachingwithang.com    Intuition!

From the mouth of Alan Alda, and of course my favourite blue hue, and a butterfly as well. Now, that’s appreciation!

 

Another peek at me 🙂

 

Blessings, Susan♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

 

 

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“Happiness lies ahead for those who cry; those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.”   Anon

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I pick up just after the first tour with Cherylane. During the two week hiatus I recuperated and alternately dreaded the next tour. She called, complaining about Robyn but not willing to do anything. I didn’t feel inclined to be too nice.

The next tour went well. Everything followed the same pattern as before. Each show was great, book sales going well and a full house. On one particular night, she heaped insult on insult, adding to injury as they say. In the audience was a very well known psychic with whom I had worked  through Hay House.  A lovely person, a very kind and gentle man. When she saw us talking she motioned me to go to her.  She then demanded to know who he was, insisting I bring him back to her “room” at the venue so she could speak with him, in private, after I introduced her. She went on to do several tours with him at a later date as a result of that introduction. She also told me I wasn’t to speak with him again…. very interesting. (Another gentle pointer).

That tour finally ended and we made it back to Brisbane. I had two weeks to recover before the next tour. I needed every minute of every day just to recover enough to face the next onslaught.

Each tour was an almost identical repeat of the first and I was getting really tired of the language, being treated like a servant and frankly not really well paid for what I was doing. My back and neck were suffering from hauling more and more books around, being perpetually cold and not eating enough. Then came the show that caused a major crisis. We were at Mildura, it was freezing and neither of us had enough warm clothes.

However, after the show, the audience didn’t want to leave. The club finally asked us to leave so they could close up – smart people! Everyone who hadn’t received a message wanted to talk to her, just in case someone came through. I can’t hazard a guess at what she was thinking, normally it was “no money – no ‘show'”. So, here we are in the parking lot, no coats, freezing our butts off so she could… pretend she was caring and concerned, whilst I huddled near the car because she had the keys and wouldn’t make eye contact with me. Was I stupid, I guess so. (Another not so subtle hint). However, in my opinion, she wasn’t caring or concerned, every person had their names and addresses collected and payment details to buy her book.  Very late, freezing cold and feeling ill we finally got back to the motel which was like a freezer chest.

The next morning I awoke with a cold which caused an eruption of major proportions. Swearing and cursing at me because I might make her ill I was told to stay as far away from her as possible, get plenty of flu medication and wear a mask. A wonderful start. A fortune in medication which made me so dopey I couldn’t drive earned me another mouthful of abuse. We arrived at our next motel and followed the preset pattern. It went very well, as they all did. Jekyll and Hyde had nothing on her.

image from markmanley.deviantart.com

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The tension was palpable as we arrived at the cold motel. Dinner was a few crackers, a shared can of salmon and tomatoes.  Not the fare to warm you up or even keep the wolf from the door, but by then I felt too miserable to care. I just wanted this to be over with. I seriously thought of going home.  I could feel the energies swirling round. I was getting fairly good at picking them up, even though the teaching she promised had never eventuated. Thoroughly disillusioned I crept outside to call my friend, the psychic I had originally introduced her to. I needed some clarification in relation to her odd behaviour every night which flew in the face of everything I knew. (You can turn off the connection when you need to, such as when you sleep!) Everything I thought was confirmed. I didn’t say I was working with Cherylane although I’m sure he knew. However, it could never be said that I had directly accused her of anything.

The rest of the tour progressed in frost silence unless we needed to talk. It was more than uncomfortable. It was an immense relief to get back home. Once home again I spent most of my time in bed, getting well and ready for the next tortuous trip. My decision to talk to Cherylane and find a solution or an end to this madness was solidifying.

At last I was acknowledging that I deserved much better treatment. I did my part of the work well and I could talk to the audience members about spiritual matters, after all I did have a PhD in Metaphysics. Whether I was ready to admit it or not I was psychic and getting better all the time, I just didn’t get the encouragement which would have let me see that. Not that it appeared to count for much with Cherylane. Yet to me it meant I wasn’t a rank novice and I knew what I was talking about – and picking up from the people there.

The two weeks flew past and we were off again with even more books. The days passed in a blur of tension, but dragging along at the same time. The evenings were hectic until the show finished. I think I wore a hole in my shoe from running the microphone so much. (Just one more little task for me to occupy my unfilled time). Two days into the last week she came bursting out of her room, in an absolute fury. We were in separate rooms thankfully.  She had spoken with ‘our’ friend and was suspicious that I had been speaking with him. I was told that I was forbidden to speak with him whilst I worked for her, that they were planning a tour together and it had nothing to do with me. (Lesson number three and I was listening!)

I decided I was going to talk to her once we got back and tell her that she could find someone else to do the shows with her. I had a beautiful soft explanation, rather than telling her she was an absolute bitch, so full of her own importance she couldn’t relate to anyone as well as having the morals and vocabulary of a fish wife, or an alley cat, but the cat has a reason for being cranky. I decided to wait because i refused to be accused of doing anything to mar the trip or the shows.

Beaten to the punch yet again, on the way home she announced that “This wasn’t working out. It was costing too much having to have separate rooms and she would have to let me go. She would get back in touch when finances were better and we could start again.”  (Shades of Anya but at least I had been paid something). This was delivered a few minutes before we reached my home where I was going to tell her the same thing.

Was it relief or disappointment that I hadn’t been the one to pull her up short? It doesn’t really matter. I had made the decision to leave and I felt a surge of approval from Spirit. Even though she said the words to end our association, I had already decided to do just that.

My time of working with another psychic was well and truly over.

Next week, A new circle and tragic news.Arum Lily

Blessings, Susan xx

© Susan Jamieson

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image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

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I was still smarting from the way my last friend and psychic exited my life when I started working with Cherylane. It was to be a new beginning. She was a completely different person to Anya  in every way possible.  I was determined this time to find out if the person I was going to work for and with was ethical in their work, so I ventured out to where she regularly did shows and sat in the audience. She had never met me in person, we had only spoke on the phone, so it would be an interesting evening.

What was interesting was the unexpected message I received. There was absolutely no denying it was for me, nor who it was from, and no way she could have possibly known of the connection. It was a message from my ex husband’s father so it was as much a shock as surprise.

After the demonstration closed I waited behind to say hello to her, both of us laughing at the message since she had no idea I would be there. It seemed an auspicious start.  It certainly made her ability credible, but gave no clue as to the storm I was about to be engulfed in.

Due to my loyalty in staying with Anya, Cherylane had employed a part-time office helper, Robyn, to assist her with appointment bookings. I was to take over her role and travel with Cherylane when she went on the road to do her shows. This was the first lesson that I should have heeded.  Robyn was a former client. Cherylane had complained bitterly at her lack of commitment since she had a small child and was often missing or unavailable.  She said she was eager to let her go so I could start and get everything shipshape.  Unfortunately Cherylane then decided she couldn’t let Robyn go because she felt sorry for her due to the circumstances under which they had met. (A small hint).

I could understand her feelings but when her work was affected Cherylane was not very polite about airing her grievances, at least not to me. Still, Robyn’s hours were increased, mine cut to cover the away trips only and since I had already signed an agreement with her I was stymied. Truthfully, I was keen to work with a genuine psychic, so I was willing to give the arrangement a trial, especially when she indicated that if Robyn didn’t pick up the pace she was definitely going. Plus, she also said she would ‘teach me’ as we traveled.

The first trip arrived, traveling from Brisbane to Sydney and all parts in between. I was told to pack lightly because we had to take all the ‘show’ materials. A little nonplussed I none the less complied. She collected me from home as I was on the way to the airport and I found out why I needed to pack light. She had hundreds if not thousands of brochures, flyers, business cards and books! She had self published her first book and it was going to be part of my job to sell them at each venue.  So, a smallish suitcase for me and Cherylane and two enormous bags stuffed to the seams with books. Heavy books! Overweight baggage!

It was not long after my accident and I had made sure she had been aware of the lingering back problems but apparently it didn’t factor into her plans. I had to haul one of these gargantuan monstrosities along with my bag. Timetables arranged by Robyn had us sprinting between connecting flights, different airlines so the luggage had to be grabbed and hauled to the new departure point. Not happy – not at all.  I was ready to cry as my shoulders felt they were being dislocated every time we pulled the bags along.

At each venue it was my responsibility to co-ordinate with venue staff to get the room arranged correctly, microphone and speakers set up, chairs, a room for her to ‘prepare herself’ beforehand, and escape afterwards, set up my table outside and have all the ‘materials’ ready. She wasn’t keen on separate rooms at the motels due to the cost, but circumstances changed this later.

By the time we arrived at our first destination I was shattered. I was unsure which part of me ached the most. I went to the venue and got everything ready whilst Cherylane rested up for the evening.  However, when I finished I returned to the room and went in to have a rest myself. Oh Boy! The proverbial hit the fan. She was furious and I found out she had the vocabulary of a dock worker. Unknown to me, I was expected to walk the town until it was time to shower and get ready for the performance. Eating was a poor after thought as she now decided to tell me she was a vegetarian and couldn’t be near any meat… and she preferred not to eat before a show. Wonderful!

The show went well, book sales were good (thankfully, less to haul around), and plenty of tickets had been sold. An auspicious start I hoped. It was, until we went to bed that night. The schedule called for a unappealingly early start after the late night and for once I fell asleep reasonable quickly. Until there came the most ferocious swearing from the bedroom next to me. Cursing and swearing non stop I finally went to see if anything was wrong. There was….. the spirits from the people who would be attending tomorrows show were trying to ‘get in early’ and she couldn’t shut them up and therefore couldn’t sleep. Still, the language was ripe. (Lets not forget as a police officer I used to arrest people for using that language in front of me!) Sleep was fitful and the sudden yelling, shattering to say the least.

Hollow eyed we set off at 4.30 that morning. An early radio show (advertising) was scheduled. With no prior warning or communication, I was not to know that in the somewhat frigid early morning hours I was expected to wait outside whilst she went inside and shone.  One of the radio personnel who saw me arrive with her invited me in and got me coffee.  As a result I was introduced to the radio crew who asked me into the booth with them (Big mistake). She went over fabulously but did not like sharing the limelight, even though I didn’t speak.  When the giveaways came out, and she fessed up to never wearing makeup (which I already had on) so they gave me half a dozen goody bags. Feeling quite pleased after the awful night and early start I was dismayed to be thoroughly abused after we left. This was not turning out as I expected. Lesson number two I failed to heed.

Each day was basically the same, an early start hauling the bags, dashing to either planes or venues for advertising promotional work and then to the motel for a ‘rest’. By day 7 I was beginning to realise that this was not at all the way it had been proposed to me. As an overworked, underpaid and abused lackey it fell far short of appealing. Sleep was almost non-existent and the frigid bouts of tantrums was beyond amusing.  Yet day 8 cracked all the rest to date.

Back at the motel we were sharing I arrived to find Cherylane swearing into her mobile and bashing out something on her laptop. When she saw me I was given a frozen stare and told to collect her washing and put it in with mine in the laundry a few doors away.  Oh – and to wait until it finished because someone was sure to try to steal the clothes. Cold, tired and really miserable, it was turning out to be a trooper of a day. I did meet a really great old guy there who turned up with a hot cup of coffee and kept me company for  a while, People with hearts of gold still exist I’m grateful to say.

Another six days of this and I was wondering what I had let myself in for. In a haze of pain, sleeplessness, swearing and cursing each night, being treated like an inconvenience, I was wondering if my sanity had deserted completely.  Not quite yet…. more was to come.  Home had never looked so good.

Next week, Lessons from Spirit I couldn’t deny.

Blessings  Susan xx

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image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”   Roald Dahl

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The years when I was able to follow where I was ‘led’ were simply marvelous. I felt as though the whole world was there for me to explore and learn. There was nothing which enthralled me more than to find another book, another person to talk to, another course to do, all to expand the knowledge I longed for.

I was fortunate; I met some truly wonderful and generous people who taught me so much.  Some of the lessons I learned were not so good, but obviously I needed them.  One of the circles I regularly attended brought together people with a wide range of talents. Some were fledglings, like me, and others were seasoned  psychics and mediums. The people I was drawn towards were the ones who were quiet yet knowledgeable, as opposed to those who pushed themselves to the fore, to show how “good they were”.

Pendulums and dowsing, psychometry, tarot, were all taken as learning experiences. Meditation became a foundation practice and eased a great deal of the pain I had after the car accident. There were some wonderful experiences, some I cannot explain rationally and the feelings…. it felt as if my entire body was a receptor for energies I had only dreamed of being able to sense.

The difficulty I had with my back caused more problems and eventually I had to stop attending the circle I really enjoyed. My Reiki had ‘blossomed’ and I had many favourable comments from people who came to me for healing. My nightly self-healing helped me to keep going, but day by day there seemed to be an eroding of comfort and ability to do the everyday things.

By this time I had met a psychic who was striking out on her own. She was thrilled to find someone who understood what she was doing and also had the admin talents she lacked. It seemed a perfect match.  At the time I was learning about Past Life Regression and wondered if our ‘connection’ was due to some past life we had shared.  It’s possible and it could account for what happened.

One thing which disturbed me, and has since then, is the number of mediums who ‘advertise’ themselves as “world-famous” or “clients from around the world”, and of course, “100% accurate.” So much of what I learned has shown me that the interpretation of messages from the other side can be misunderstood by the medium, often by the client because of the heightened emotion and inability to remember facts at the time. I also hasten to add that there are many real and honest mediums and psychics out there, some I know and would recommend in a heartbeat.  However, that’s an aside at present.

Things went swimmingly for a while. I set her up with media interviews, arranged her tours and appointments and held her hand when she met the journalists. I also went with her when a family asked her to help them to locate their missing husband/son.  He drove a truck, interstate and had gone missing from the vehicle on his way back to Queensland. The truck was found in New South Wales with its load intact but he had vanished.  I was picking up so many things by this time that I was enthusiastic about going with her to “look for some answers” for this family.

They drove us out to Moree, stopping at various places along the route he would have taken to pick up whatever we could. By the time we reached Moree I realised that Anya (not her real name), was asking me what I was picking up before she spoke to the family and then, almost word for word telling them what I had just talked to her about.  I was feeling suspicious but not ready to give up on her yet. The next day we were going up in a small plane and flying over the Warrumbungle range, since the feeling was he had been dumped somewhere in the area.

I had an amazing time! I loved the small Cessna and flying over the Warrumbungle range was thrilling. Each time the plane hit an air pocket and dropped, Anya squealed and I laughed. It was unfortunate but I found the ride so much more than I had ever expected that it was too hard not to laugh with joy, even though we were there for a serious reason. I was sitting with “Sarah”, the man’s sister and she appreciated the comedy as we tried to chat over the noise of the engine. On a serious note, there were things I picked up as we flew low over the range, but in areas only a local or a mountain goat could easily get to. Impenetrable is the word for the area.

image from http://www.golden-highway.com.au Part of the Warrumbungle range

As far as the family were concerned it must have been a total wash out since we couldn’t really point to a definitive spot and say “He’s there!” They continued to look but told me they were never able to get the closure they wanted.

After that she became obsessed with a missing boy who was in all the papers. I told her I believed he had been picked up by someone the police hadn’t yet spoken with and that he was already dead. She focused on finding his remains. Call me insane, but I went along with her when she wanted to search an area of scrub and bush where she felt he might be found. It was between Maleny and Eumundi and a well-known Lyme tick area, although I didn’t know it then. It appears my Lyme disease may have begun at this point.  My health became worse. I had another accident on the way home from her place in Eumundi and even though I wasn’t driving it exacerbated my back problems.

Shortly after this she met someone, gave me goosebumps but she was in love. He didn’t want me to work with her and life became difficult. Suffice it to say that at the end of another eighteen months she parted company with her love, it cost her dearly and I hadn’t been paid for twelve months. She has now resurfaced as a “World famous animal communicator” and despite trying to simply “say hello” has so far refused to see or speak to me. So sad! A lesson learned or so I thought!

Another lady, a psychic medium, with a mean temper, although I didn’t know it at the time, had been chasing me to work with her… doing the same thing. From everything she said about Anya, it appeared she knew what she had been doing and assured me she was ethical. This was to be the next chapter of my life.

Next week: The Universe makes me sit up and take heed of the message.

Blessing Susan xx

If you’ve missed the earlier chapters of the story you can find them here, here and here.

“Don’t beat yourself up for not knowing the answers. You don’t always have to know who you are. You don’t have to have the big picture, or know where you’re heading. Sometimes, it’s enough just to know what you’re going to do next.”   Sophie Kinsell

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