January, a Time of Renewal & Learning from the Past

Janus head

The holiday season is such a magical time of year, so much energy and color and wonderful treats we only make this time of year. We have feasted and made merry and shopped through throngs of crowds of people searching for that perfect gift. Houses and shops and trees are festooned with bright twinkle lights and even our work desks are made festive. Folks have criss crossed the coasts to return to that very special place called Home. There is that sense of wonder all around and for a brief time, everyone seems happy.

Now the gifts have been opened, our refrigerators filled with plastic containers of leftovers and the credit card bills start trickling in. The euphoria and giddiness of the holidays blow away and with the new year many of us are feeling nothing but depressed and fat.

Indeed, there are many, many people who would rather pass up the holiday season altogether. The holidays sees an upswing in depression and suicides. Painful memories of what has been lost and a sense of regret and futility leave many folks feeling anything but merry. I was one of those people this year. 2017 took too much from me and I said Goodbye and Good riddance to a tear filled 12 months. February took my beloved brother. My husband of 27 years Joseph died suddenly the end of May. In September, a friend I’d only known a few months was gone from a heart attack. October sent angels and returned a dear friend  back Home.

I think we all are ready when the new year comes and we look in a new direction to improve our mind, bodies, and lives.

Now January is here and with it we stand up, stretch, and take a good look at ourselves in the mirror.

January is traditionally thought to be named after the Greek god Janus. Janus had two faces, one to look wisely to the past, and the other to gaze with lessons learned to  the future.

He is a god of transitions and journeys. He presided over beginnings and of time. Janus was the deity of the doorways of possibilities.

As you scrutinize your reflection and rub your forehead with one hand while holding a pile of bills in the other, don’t be too harsh on yourself. First, take a moment to remember what the last year meant to you and all you accomplished in just 12 months.


Did you make strides in the goals you set for yourself the previous year?


Did you make responsible decisions like pay bills, keep a roof over your head and food on the table?


Did you make  health and happiness a priority?


Are you clearer in your longterm goals?


Are you wiser now than last year?


That’s a lot to accomplish. If you you made positive strides, give yourself a pat on the back.


Now back to the mirror. Janus has two faces. One looks to the past and sees the lessons and memories and changes needed. The other looks ahead with renewed knowledge a year wiser, stronger and with compassion.

Use January to reflect on all you’ve come through up until now.  Look into that mirror and say, “Here I stand. It took all these years to culminate into what I am now. I may have been knocked down twenty times but I have stood up twenty one. With bloodied knees and a few scars, I am a warrior. I AM AMAZING!”

Now go show 2018 what you are made of!

Antiques, Loved Ones, & the Journeys they take

I enjoy sharing my experiences and what I learn from everything humble and Divine.

What I don’t often share are my personal problems or painful issues going on in my life. I’ve always prided myself on seeing the lesson or the blessing in everyday events. No one REALLY wants to read about someone else’s pain.

But in this case I feel I must share because eventually most everyone will experience the type of pain I have felt in recent months and today I had what might be called a bit of an epiphany. So yes, I must share this story with you.

8 weeks ago, I received the kind of phone call no one ever wants to receive. It was my brother’s best friend calling me to tell me my brother was in ICU after suffering a heart attack and cerebral hemorrhage. The prognosis was grim.

I was across the country 3000 miles away. It was unlikely I would get there to see my brother or hold his hand one last time. Desperate phone calls went back and forth from airlines, to hospitals, to nurses’ stations. I was trying to handle all these difficult decisions while still at work and not completely lose it. My brother Mike was in a coma and was in multiple organ failure. I really didn’t want to fly across the country just to watch my brother die.

I had never attempted to connect with someone in a coma, much less so far away. But it was all I had and there was no time. “DON’T YOU LEAVE ME! I shouted silently. I felt the energy of that plea reverberate through all Space and Time. No sooner had the plea left my thoughts did I realize how selfish it sounded. Mike was suffering. His body was broken. He wanted permission to leave but was trying to hang on and here I was acting like his selfish little sister.

I went into a quiet area at work and began asking questions. “Why don’t you wake up? Why can’t you feel it when they do the gag reflex tests?” In my ear I heard, ” I can’t feel it. It is so comfortable here. I see Daddy.” That’s when I realized my brother was already slipping away but he was trying so hard to stay with us. I took a deep breath. “It’s OK if you want to go. I understand.”

I put my head down and just started walking. I walked no more than 10 feet when my cell phone rang. It was Mike’s friend at the hospital.

I hung up the phone and slammed the door of my office. I completely broke down and sobbed. I cried like I hadn’t cried since childhood. Maybe because once again I was a child. I became the  little sister who had just lost her big brother.

I found only a little comfort in knowing he was now free from his painful and broken body, released to explore and be amazed by the wonders that await on the Other Side. I felt cheated. Everything happened so fast that my brain couldn’t really process what had happened. He was gone. Gone were the lengthy phone conversations and Christmas cards. Gone was the genius big brother that had all the answers to my most obscure questions. It just didn’t seem fair.

I spent the next few weeks in a daze. My sister and I traveled to his home and I thanked his friend Christopher for all he did. He was witness to things only family should have to endure. Chris, having medical power of attorney, had to make decisions that were extremely difficult. This loss took a heavy toll on Chris. I met many of my brother’s friends at the service. Mike’s friends were simply stunned. He had been such an intellectual mentor to so many and the wound left with his loss was visceral.

Thank God I had my husband Joseph to lean on during these difficult times. He was the doting spouse, fixing me a hot dinner and making sure my favorite TV shows were recorded, just in case I felt like watching them later.

Joseph enjoyed being the house-husband. Being retired meant that Joseph would putter around the house, watering plants and spoiling our dog, Alice. The two of them would share peanut butter on toast every morning while watching the morning news.

Joseph’s relatives all live in Chicago. Phone calls are too seldom, and visits were a rarity. So you can imagine how excited Joseph was when he heard his favorite relative, Cousin Laura, was coming out to California for the weekend. Laura’s son, Mitchell, was attending school out here and Laura was only going to be in town for a couple days. It was Memorial Day Week and I had a heavy work schedule, with only one day off and I’d already worked more than one 12 hour day. I was SO looking forward to my one day off but….

Joseph looked at me with big, sad eyes, ( OK, not really, but almost ) and told me how he hadn’t seen Laura in so long and she was only out here for the one full day and..Ok, Ok, Fine. We’ll spend the day with your Cousin Laura and Mitchell.

Cousin Laura was equally excited to see her Cousin Joseph. The two of them sat in the back seat and gossiped while Mitchell ( whom I’d never met before ) and I got to know each other. Soon Mitchell and I were the best of friends, teasing and joking about the giggling “kids” Laura and Joseph, in the back seat.

It was a great day. We went out for lunch and chatted and caught up on all the latest. We were in Long Beach, so what better place to sight see than the glorious Queen Mary?

As we pulled into the Queen Mary parking lot, we forgot it was Memorial Day Weekend. They were having a huge car show in their parking lot. Mitchell was beside himself with excitement and snapped dozens of shots of exotic race cars, spoilers, and rims.

Joseph walked with a cane and was a bit frail, so I parked him on the Promenade Deck while I took his relatives on a whirlwind tour of my favorite haunted ship. In my best tour guide voice, I showed them some of the most interesting spots on the ship and gave them quick  history lessons of the Queen Mary’s storied past.

After a couple of hours, we fetched up a very relaxed Joseph and headed back to their hotel.

Laura and Joseph swapped more stories over a beer. It was getting late, so we said our farewells and promised to come to Chicago to see a Cubs game soon.

Joseph had a slight smile as I drove home.

I had to be at work early so I retired and left Joseph with some strawberry ice cream.

When my alarm went off at 1:15 AM, I noticed the TV was still on and Joseph had not come to bed. Sure enough, he had fallen asleep on the couch. The TV remote was still in his hands. Tisking, I took the remote from his hand and clicked off the television.

I looked at my husband.  I looked closer. I blinked. I looked even closer.

Joseph wasn’t breathing.

Half afraid, half jokingly, sure he would snort and startle awake, I poked him in his shoulder.

Joseph was cold.

He was gone.

I gasped. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Honey, Honey?”

My husband was dead.

In my moment of panic and despair, I ran downstairs to my neighbor’s door. “Joseph’s gone. I don’t know what to do!” Of course they threw on bathrobes and started to come inside. I stopped them. “No, I don’t want you to see this!” They sweetly ignored me and came inside. Barbara lightly touched his cheek and checked for pulse. “Oh, so peaceful. He just went to sleep.”

The rest of the night was a teary blur. I called the hospital who sent out Police and paramedics. The monitors showed almost no brain activity. The brain slows to a stop gently after the heart has stopped beating. I timidly asked what kind of time frame we were looking at. “He’s been gone about two hours.” I guess I must have looked pretty fragile and lost. I’m sure it’s not protocol but one of the police officers asked, “Do you need a hug?” I did need a hug.

Calls were made to the mortuary and they were on their way. I sent everyone away so I could sit with my husband one last time and hold his hand. I gently petted the soft hair on his head while I waited. It was the only part of him not yet cold and so lifeless.

I stood numbly while I watched the mortuary attendants discretely do their tasks.

I stood numbly while I watched my beloved husband of 27 years become a body, wrapped in white, and carefully carried away.

Later as I got my wits about me I apologized to my neighbors. By asking them to help me, they were witness to something I would not wish upon my enemy. Barbara touched my shoulder. “Kitty, I felt honored, HONORED, to see my dear friend looking so peaceful in what had been his final moments. I was touched.”

I cannot imagine anything sweeter or more precious than those kind words.

Alone in the house, I later heard a clear voice tell me, “He thinks he’s still dreaming.”

Even in my unbelievable grief I knew how beautiful  that was. What a perfect transition from this earth.

So here I was, having lost two loved ones only eight weeks apart. I fumbled through the house and all the things we had collected over our lives together. People say changing the environment will help with healing. So I bought a couple new pieces of furniture.

I didn’t feel any better.

I felt I needed to start culling out some things in the house before I started clutching every little scrap of paper he’d scrawled on and every old, tired shirt he hadn’t worn in decades. I’d watched too many episodes of Hoarders to want to fall into that trap of grief and despair.

I packed up bags and bags of clothes for Goodwill and pots and pans and dishes. And then I noticed something. In our many travels to flea markets and yard sales, we seemed to have accumulated quite a collection of vintage dishes. Antique Chinese rice bowls and hand painted plates. And they were all in pairs. It had always been just the two of us. Now I was faced with all these pairs of dishes on which we’d shared so many meals. Now what do I do? Do I save one for myself or sell them both at a yard sale? It was enough to have a serious emotional meltdown. All these memories were now just becoming things being packed into boxes. Do I save his favorite cookbooks and his specialty salts? I was afraid if I didn’t have the visual reminder I would start forgetting the memories.

Slowly I was able to sort out some things and decide what was most sentimental. What is sentiment regarding an object? It’s a visual reminder of a sweet moment in time. I put the Hawaiian shirt he’d worn when we visited with Cousin Laura in a plastic ZipLock bag because I could still smell his cologne on it. I placed his paint brushes from college art projects in a vase near his urn. My God, I even still had his wedding boutonniere from 27 years ago! These were the important things because they told a story.

I culled out a lot of stuff. I don’t know, call it retail therapy, but I passed my idle time scrolling through vintage items for sale online. Local stuff. i picked up a nice vintage bookcase this way. Older furniture is always built better, It was built to last.

I happened to come across an especially nice antique buffet for sale. It was just what I needed to give the space a new, fresh look. I contacted the young lady selling the buffet and drove to her house. It only took me minutes to start explaining why I was interested in buying furniture and soon I stood there crying in front of a stranger. She hugged me and told me everything was going to get better. We ended up talking for a couple hours. We exchanged numbers and I sent her a photo of the buffet in it’s new home.

Somehow it felt alright to feel vulnerable in front of someone I’d never met. They became a friend.

Today I just returned from another small buying trip. This young lady was advertising an antique mirror for sale. Normally i don’t gravitate towards mirrors but this one had a cool, gothic look to it. i drove 20 miles after work to take a look.

The neighborhood was poor and a little run down. I pulled onto her street and found a place to park, not sure if I really needed a mirror after all. It was an apartment building and I didn’t have her unit number. I texted her and she greeted me outside.

“Ooh, I like your shirt!” Yes, I had on my best Roswell, NM alien shirt. It was a one bedroom apartment with a bed in the living room. Her young son played on the bed while Grandma smiled and waved at me. She took me into the one bedroom and brought out the mirror. She explained how she was recently married and several family members along with her new husband were all living here in the cramped apartment saving money until they moved into their own place. I listened as I gave the vintage mirror the once over. It did have some age but it had a sizable chip she hadn’t mentioned and it didn’t show in the photos. We talked and I envied her youthful excitement about her new life ahead. She was studying in cosmetology school and was selling off most of her things to save for their new married life.

“My mother bought this mirror because I love old things. I love the history and the stories they hold. I love it but I need to use this fancy lighted one for school, so I’m selling this one.”

I shared my recent events and told her I was on the other end of the married spectrum. Here I was, tearing up and getting hugs from a stranger, a stranger who reached out and comforted me. We connected over the love of antiques and the stories they carry.

Well, of course not only did I buy the mirror with the chip in it that I drove 20 miles for, I paid her more than she was asking and wished her as many happy married years as I had.

Driving home with the chipped mirror on the car seat I thought about my visits. These were people with whom I never would have crossed paths except for our common love of old things and the stories they carry with them.

A loving mother had bought this mirror for her daughter. Before that, who knows? A wedding gift from long ago? And so it begins a new chapter with me.

The house is looking better. A lot of old stuff gone, sentimental items in places of importance, and fresh vintage items to share their journey with me.

Cherish your loved ones. Make memories and hold onto what is important.

And with a kiss of sentiment, blow the rest away to continue THEIR journey………….


Lessons of Compassion From Monarch Butterflies

Nature has it’s own doctrine of Life’s  journey. It’s creatures great and small instinctively fulfill their life’s tasks. They cling close to their mother for safety. Animals respect their parents’ lessons and know their place in this world. Animals mature, find mates, raise their own family and pass down lessons learned. When the time comes for their own young to stretch  their wings and go out into the world, animal parents relinquish the bond as is the way of Nature.

Even beasts that Mankind might not give much conscious thought to make their indelible mark with each generation. The tiny sea life provide important nutrients to the larger animals, the birds and grazing mammals consume seeds that are then distributed elsewhere to spread flowers and trees and beauty everywhere.

And then there are the lowly insects. The beatles and ants are so very important to help break down decomposing matter and help it return to earth. Our bees tirelessly pollenate countless flowers and crops.

And yes, the butterfly. Symbol for transformation, these glorious fluttering stained glass windows seem to be manifested for the sheer sake of beauty and whimsy. So fragile, so exquisite, like diaphanous bits of nature’s finest.

All God’s creatures unquestioning fulfill their place in the grand scheme. Nature, for all it’s beauty, can be harsh and cruel. They don’t question what happens. It just is.

Which is why I find myself helping creatures in distress. I know it’s nature, the Circle of Life. I get that. But still I cannot bear to see any animal, ANY animal, in obvious distress and not feel compelled to do my best to relieve it’s pain and make it feel safe.

So we are back to the butterfly. I have several Milkweed plants in my back yard. Milkweed is a favorite of Monarch Butterflies. I often find 10 to 20 coccoons nestled around my straggly plants. I can usually find at least a few Monarchs flopping and fluttering about most months of the year.

I was coming home from work the other day. It had been a long and hard workday and my arms were heavy with bags of groceries. It’s a good distance from the street to my house and I was straining to get all the bags up in one trip.

I wrestled with my grocery bags, getting them into one hand so I could unlatch the gate. I fumbled with them again as I redistributed them back into both hands. My eyes caught something rippling in the dog’s water bucket. It was a Monarch butterfly. Waterlogged and barely on the surface, it flapped it’s orange wings uselessly. Without a thought, I tossed all my groceries to the ground and scooped up the soggy little insect. How could I have been so careless to leave the water bucket so close to the Milkweed? The butterfly tried to flop it’s wings in my hand. I swear I could almost hear it cough! I gently placed the wet insect on a rose bush and let the sun dry it’s wings.

A few weeks later and once again I come trudging up the walk, my arms heavy with groceries. This time a cold wet drizzle hastened my pace. In my arms, a hand-tied bouquet of fresh flowers for my neighbor. My house had been under renovation for weeks and she had been so kind as to let me use her shower when mine was full of plaster dust and tile. I owed her big time.

The flowers were pale shades of peach and creme. Hyacynths smelled divine but I was in a hurry to get them in water, even in this drizzle. I opened the gate, and once again, a soggy Monarch lay before me. It tumbled and flopped on the sidewalk, at the mercy of the elements. A newly opened chrysalis still clung to a nearby branch. How sad to have come so far and made such a miraculous transformation only to be reborn in the cold rain. Yet this little butterfly would not go quietly into this long goodnight. It was fighting to stay alive.

My arms were full and I was trying so hard to keep the flowers from getting crushed. What to do? Carefully I scooped up the soggy bug and nestled it amongst the flowers while I ran through the rain up the steps and into the house.

I set the flowers, complete with soggy butterfly, on the dining table while I put the groceries away. The Monarch seemed happy to be out of the rain and explored the bouquet.


Don’t ask me why I scooped up a wet butterfly and brought it in out of the rain. I don’t know why except it was all alone in this world and it was struggling. I can only believe if it’s placed in my path it must be for a reason.

I watched this little orange and black critter fumble around the bouquet as I changed out of my wet clothes. I watched as this critter tromped across my flowers. Maybe my maternal instincts kicked in. It must be hungry! I went into the kitchen and mixed up a tiny bowl of sugar water. I dipped my finger in the sugar water and dabbed it over the flower buds. Almost immediately, this little butterfly started lapping up the sugary concoction using it’s proboscis. Soon it was twitching it’s wings and happily warming itself under the desk lamp.

But I needed to give those flowers to my neighbor. I still needed to trim the ends and arrange them in a vase. Mr. Monarch was now very much at home with a sugar filled tummy and warm dry wings and I could hardly put him back outside in the rain, could I?

I carried the bouquet, butterfly and all, into the kitchen. I clipped, arranged, and fussed the flowers all the while Mr. Monarch stayed firmly put on his hyacynth. I raised an eyebrow and pursed my lips.

My neighbor was still at work but I had keys to her back door. I placed the bouquet on her dining table to surprise her when she came home. The butterfly merrily festooned the bouquet as if it was now his job.

A few hours later I heard a knock at the door. “Were those from you?”  “Yes. Is there still a butterfly on them?” I asked. “YES! He’s just sitting there flapping his wings. I had been watching one of the chrysalis on the Milkweed waiting for it to open. I wanted to photograph it opening and I thought I must have missed it. Do you think it’s the same one?”

Sure enough, the chrysalis she had been watching was empty.

Had the Universe conspired to have me save “her” butterfly and place it on a bouquet meant for her? I acted without thinking. I simply saw a tiny being in distress and cradled it in what I thought would be a comforting environment. Was Heaven working in it’s mysterious and wonderful ways? All I know is my neighbor and I winked at each other and the Monarch butterfly is still sitting on her flowers on her dining table.

Nature’s creatures leave this earth so soon after beginning. I realize butterflies are on this earth for mere months and yet this tiny, delicate, exquisite jewel of a creature touched both of us and taught me that compassion is always rewarded.

“The Winds of Heaven Blow Between Horses’ Ears”.. A Story to Comfort Grieving Pet Owners


The deepest pain ever felt I believe is the broken heart at the loss of a beloved pet. As pet owners, we KNOW there is a probability we will outlive our pets. We KNOW their natural lifespan is much shorter than our own and yet we willingly and lovingly devote our time and affection to give them a life as safe and comfy as we can.

Every pet owner knows the ultimate act of love of holding that paw when the quality of life is gone and our Angels are summoned back to Heaven. Even when we know the right decision was made, our hearts feel ripped from its ribcage and our face is wet from tears.

As a psychic medium, I hear stories of folks seeing their pet after they’ve passed or have had vivid dreams where they were convinced their pets came to them, that it was much more than a dream. Some feel they are hallucinating. Some may think that their grief is driving them mad.

Are they seeing their deceased pet? Grieving pet owners need closure. The anguish is as deep as losing a child, for in my mind, they ARE children.

The debate over whether or not animals have souls, self-awareness, go to Heaven, etc, is a long one. This blog is to help grieving pet owners cope with the loss and bring some understanding to what they may be experiencing if they feel they have been visited by their deceased pets.

One such grieving pet owner felt she was indeed having her cat visit her. She needed answers and didn’t know where to turn.

While neither I nor anyone has all the answers, I tried to explain what I had experienced with my personal story..

Let me tell you a story. I had a horse. A beautiful show horse. He was champion in 3 states. I bought him at the tender age of 2 1/2. He was all legs and baby fat. I had experience with horses but he was my first youngster. We became inseparable. When Reggie was 10, he broke a bone in his foot. It didn’t bother him at first, but the weight of a horse took its toll and he became more and more uncomfortable and sore.

After years of vet visits, I made the very, very, hard decision to put him down. I cried like I had never cried before. A piece of me was gone forever and I felt I had somehow failed him. I thought about him constantly. I pictured him running alongside my car as I drove. Reggie would appear at the slightest thought and would trot and snort and shake his blond mane. While these weren’t specific visuals and memories of him, I still thought they MUST be just past memories. But these were so fresh, and Reggie, even in spirit form, seemed to react to my surroundings. Was I seeing him? COULD it be something more than just a fond remembrance?

Years later, I had the opportunity to attend a lecture of a famous psychic. During the Q and A, I timidly raised my hand. I explained what I had been seeing and needed his perspective.” Is he REALLY with me, or am I just remembering him? ”

The psychic curtly, said ” It doesn’t matter”. I was annoyed by this answer. Was he blowing me off? There was some nervous laughter from the audience. I felt embarrassed, sat down, and didn’t press for an explanation. I was angry about his answer for months. I finally forgave myself for not pressing the issue.

Only later did I understand what he meant. I believe it means your thoughts, your memories, your love, draws their spirit to you and in a way, your thoughts continue the relationship you had. When you think about them, it creates a new imprint. The bond is still strong.

Now don’t think that you are keeping them from crossing over with each memory. Animals cross so quickly and once crossed, have free will to travel and cross back easily.

I totally believe our pets are at a higher vibration and protect us and hold space for us on the other side.

Whether just remembering the tactile love and affection fondly or by doing so, our beloved pets wish to visit and watch over us, does it matter which it is? It is the bond of love.

This has been my story. As a lifelong pet owner, I will continue to work hard so my critters can have a better life. When it’s my time, I wish to see all of them greeting me at the gate!

My Amazing Channeling with the late David Bowie

    Bowie for reuse    Whoa. That hasn’t happened in a while. I just had a rather spontaneous channeling with David Bowie. It was late at night and I finished the evening watching a clip from “Labyrinth” The enchanting and seductive dancing dream sequence is one of my favorite scenes. I shut off my computer and let myself relax and drift away.

I wondered if David Bowie would come forward if I asked for him. Sometimes if a spirit has moved on into another level of consciousness or entered into a new life, only a fragment of the person you know may remain. To my surprise after only a few minutes of connecting to spirit I felt I was indeed talking to David Bowie.

Now how do I know it was David Bowie and not some random spirit trying to present themselves as David Bowie? Great question. This is where using spirit guides comes in handy. When you ask for a specific person to come forward, the word goes out into what I call The Collective Consciousness. It’s a bit like like calling to someone across many apartment buildings. While your neighbor might not know this person, they ask their friend, and they ask a friend who says. “Oh yeah, I know him.” “Hey David, this lady wants to talk to you.”  You send out your intention of connecting to this specific person and through the filters of your spirit guides, the real one will come through. They know to toss aside impersonators.

But I was still a little star struck when the image of David Bowie was before me. I mean, It’s DAVID BOWIE!  THE David Bowie!  All of a sudden, I found myself tongue-tied. I’m not a musician. What do I say? I’ve heard that many creative souls continue to create on the other side, free from mortal restrictions.

I asked him if he was still creating music. He said “Of course. Music from the inside out, music that is created as there’s movement.” He plucked at invisible strings near his ear. “Music from instruments you can’t see. Can’t you hear it? No, of course you can’t, not until you are here.” He was floating and dancing and trying to leap but being rather awkward about it. “I was never really very physical.” He said.

What surprised me is he was still in a lot of pain. Psychics often feel sympathetic pains of the deceased. My chest started burning and my lungs gurgling. My lungs still burn as I write this. I begged him to let me ease the pain, it was only a memory and he needn’t hold onto it anymore.  “No, It helps me focus.” He said floating and looping upside down.

I asked him about his wife, Iman. “We are in touch often.”

I asked him about his fans. “Do not rely on me”, He said, “Make your OWN music. Be wild, be weird. Be WONDERFUL.”

I finally convinced him to accept some healing. Reiki healing can transcend Time and Space and is very useful for departed souls who have not fully released themselves from the pain they endured in Life. Some feel physical pain, some emotional trauma. We have the ability to help them release such pain. I pulled what seemed like burning pain and fluid from his lungs. I visualized tearing open his chest to rid him of this burning pain. His ribcage ripped open and light burst outward. I felt Bowie wanted to retain a small fragment of this memory, this burning sensation. To help him “focus”, as he said, or perhaps to help him remember who David Bowie was and is. I don’t know.

I was surprised someone as avant-garde as Bowie would still identify in a mortal body.

I asked him what the last thing he remembered while in his physical body. “I smiled.” He said.

Had to share this. I am so glad David Bowie continues to create beautiful and unique music on the other side and I’m humbled and feel blessed beyond measure to have had this conversation with this great man.

When Magic Happens

I  enjoy giving readings to people face to face. I can feel their energy up close, see their expressions, and share their tears.

But at the same time I have to admit I really enjoy being alone. I LIKE being by myself, in the company of peaceful silence. Not being social. So it was with great hesitance that I was dragged kicking and screaming into the world of social media. Why would I want to talk to people about what they had for lunch? I hate seeing posts of people I don’t know at places I’ll never visit.

But then a funny thing happened. I started meeting people. Nice people. Friends and relatives of people I already know …and..like. I keep it slow. I’m not a collector of “friends”. I have come to enjoy interacting with these internet friends and being a small part of their daily lives.

Susie is one such lady. Susie is the sister of a dear friend of mine. And while I have to be honest and admit I have never had the pleasure of meeting Susie in person, I know Susie. She is the kind of person who doesn’t have a mean bone in her body or could say an unkind word to anyone. She is truly a beautiful soul.

What Susie does have is this charm of posting at least a dozen posts and videos daily. She is a wonderful storyteller, one of those amazing people you encounter every so often that can spin a tale of something common and mundane and make it seem so wonderful, like God’s little jewels.

So I read intently when Susie and her husband inherited a farm in Tennessee. It was everything you could imagine, acres of rolling hills, a red barn, an adorable little farm house that had a porch big enough to have rocking chairs so you could relax and gaze out upon this wondrous old farm. It even has a stream flowing through it year round. Susie, along with her husband and her two Australian Shepherds, acclimated to Country Life.

I loved watching Susie’s videos of her dogs tearing across the rolling hills, darting through trees and playing tag until their lungs gave out. The farm needed a little fixing up and with a some sweat equity it was their new home indeed.

But I knew it was a bittersweet homecoming. You see Susie had traveled clear across the country with all her belongings, her dogs, and a cage full of finches to join her in her new home. Still getting settled, Susie would hang the birdcage on a branch on one of her trees so her finches could enjoy the Tennessee air. Not a week into their arrival, somehow the door to the cage got open and all her birds that she so carefully carried across the country, had somehow escaped. They were gone. To add to her heartache, Susie’s mother had recently passed away. I could feel her sense of loss and it broke my heart.

I knew Susie needed a reading. She needed to hear from her Mom. I reached out to Susie and she agreed.

Susie’s mom was a bubbly Irish girl and came forward easily. Oh, she had some opinions. “What, all that land and no roses?” I kind of had to agree with her on that one. I asked Susie’s mom if there was a way to show Susie she was near and thinking of her. I suggested birds. Could Susie’s mom send wild birds to greet Susie to let her know Mom is around and thinking of her? Mom said she would try to find a way.

I told Susie what her mom had said and that she should definitely get some roses planted. A few tears were shared when I told Susie wild birds would appear for her. They might  seem slightly out of place, or an unusual variety for the area, so she would notice them.

I kept following Susie’s daily posts and enjoyed her stories of life on the farm in Tennessee. In July she had a story about how a baby bird came into her life. Ugly as only a mother could love, Susie posted videos of her feeding this awkward little bird all manner of grubs and dog food and fruit. The bird bonded with her and soon “LouLoo” and her youngest dog were inseparable. The little robin grew and learned to fly. LouLoo would flit about in the trees with the other robins and greet her adopted mom by flying down and sitting on Susie’s finger before fluttering off for another adventure. It was so sweet to watch a wild bird interact with her.

Then the other day Susie’s post made my jaw drop..

“Kitty Jost Janusz.. On July 14th, 2014, you wrote..and I will paraphrase..”I told her it would be a nice way of letting you know that she was thinking of you if she would send some wild birds to the farm.” at the end of the most amazing reading you wrote…”She will try and find a way…” I can say with 100 percent certainty… On July 16th, 2015, I believe she finally found a way…”


Wow…Wow…Wow.. Thank you Susie. I am honored.

Angels and Olives.. Graber Olive House Paranormal Investigation Part 2

  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA              In my last blog on our paranormal investigation at Graber olive house, I have to say we were taken a bit by surprise. We knew their was an entity they referred to as “the Creeper”. We had already dealt with that creepy crawly suction cupped creature in the attic. But still I felt we were definitely not as prepared as we should have been for Graber house. That man’s mother being attacked in the packing room was evidence of that. That was certainly something much more aggressive, something much more..intelligent, than the “Creeper”.                                                                                                                                                          Our next visit to Graber house would require better boundaries and more protection…from above!  I’m talking Angels! Months had passed since we had last visited Graber house. Our next visit was in the Spring, when the olives are still growing and the sorting and packing equipment are silent. The vat room was just rows and rows of empty concrete curing vats. This time was going to be different. This investigation we would be bringing guests investigators  To Graber house. Some of the folks were experienced paranormal investigators, while some had never been on an investigation before and were curious beginners. Most knew a little about the spirits that resided at Graber house, and like most other paranormal investigators, they were out to find the Creeper! Going into a haunted location with the intent of provoking an aggressive spirit is simply asking for trouble. No matter how protected you think you are, it’s just never a good idea. If a spirit or lower vibrational energy takes a dislike to you, they CAN hurt you. I’ve personally witnessed people become suddenly violently ill, throwing up, developing stomach and chest pains. I’ve seen people pinched, poked and had objects knocked over in an effort to trip them in the dark. We decided if this Creeper or other aggressive energy presented themselves, we were not going to engage any type of interaction with them. It could just be too dangerous and I just don’t like letting them play games on their terms.  And while some of you are thinking that it would be “cool” to be poked or pushed by some unseen entity, the true danger lies in sometimes these entities will attach to you and yes, follow you home! No, No, No, It’s not fun! A clingy negative energy is like a sickness. It can affect your mood, your health, your relationships, and never in a positive way. Sometimes it can be so profound as to develop into mental illness and depression. Don’t risk it and know how to extricate one if you have to. We made a decision from a safety standpoint. Both Kimberly and I decided for this investigation we were going to bring in  higher vibrations. Doing this can be as simple as reciting a prayer beforehand to ask for protection, but we wanted to take it a step further. We stood together and called in our Angel guides. We wanted the big guns to protect us on this trip. We had not only our own safety to think about, but we had to consider our guests, some of them beginners. Their safety was paramount, and we wanted to ensure a good  first experience for the beginning ghost hunters!      OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

So confident in our protection and ready to have a good investigation, Kimberly and I drove up towards the location, picking up Kimberly’s sister along the way. As we’re rolling along the freeway, We both started hearing the distinctive clink, ching, clink, of loose change falling onto a hard surface. Clink. Plink. Clank. What? The car floor is carpeted. Clink. Um..Kimberly? Are we manifesting coins out of thin air..again? Um..yeah.. Chink..Ok, pennies from Heaven. I get it. That’s a good sign that someone is watching out for us from above! We pulled into her sister’s driveway. As I get out of the car I look at the driver’s side floor. There must have been 6 or 7 quarters and 2 pennies. ( Now that would be perfectly normal for MY car, but her car is always immaculate ) Pennies she had encountered before, but the quarters especially puzzled her. Pennies would manifest whenever her dad was watching over her. Kimberly had received many pennies sent from her dad’s spirit. But quarters? Kimberly’s sister snickered. “You asked Dad for pennies? I asked Dad to send me quarters! “ He always liked me better, she said!                                                 

Graber house consists of several buildings and storage areas connected by walkways. They were close enough that if some investigators split up and were on one part of the property, it was most likely they would unknowingly contaminate any audio other investigators were recording in another area. So we decided we would do all of our EVP sessions as a group to lessen the likelihood of audio contamination. Later when people start getting itching to investigate on their own, they could roam the grounds to take photos and get  their own feel for the place. Being secluded in a haunted location, you really get a feel of where it seems creepy, what corners seem foreboding. When you’re alone in that dark, shadowy room and you see a darker shadow growing in the corner, the hair standing on end and every tiny noise is amplified, that’s when you better have your cameras ready! And that’s why it’s important to have someone with you..For safety, as a witness, and to laugh at you when you pee your trousers..      OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                                   

So before we even start the evening we gathered everyone around to get all of us in the right frame of mind. A good exercise for this is what is called toning. Toning is a lot like chanting. This vocalization is especially good when you can lower your voice and really make your chest vibrate. By having all of us do this deep, chanting tones it creates an equality of vibration within all the participants. Sound is the closest vibration to physical matter and toning breaks up stress and clears the mind. Standing in a circle and holding hands, we did three, low chants. OOOOOoooommmmm.  OOOOOOoooommm.   OOOOOOoooommmm. We’ve experimented with placing a digital recorder in the center and recorded while toning. Try it, you’ll be amazed at the EVPs you’ll get. Spirits seem to be very curious about all this noise and we’ve been able to record some cool EVPs while toning. The spirit voices sounded like very excited chatter. “What are they doing?’ They must think.       OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                                                                 

I don’t know if it was the toning, or the fact we invited higher vibrations to join us but it was like many little eyes were watching us from the trees. From the bushes. I can’t say it felt threatening, more like a very Earthy, ancient woodland creature watching us curiously. It’s hard to describe but it was as though the land itself had noticed our presence  and was watching us, and indeed curious about what we were doing. Several of us noticed darting shadows and firefly type lights flitting about.   OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                                                 

While the feeling of the outside spirits seemed curious and friendly, that energy changed on a dime when we entered the vat rooms. It was a very unwelcoming vibe, like having some territorial guard dog staring you down. Kimberly, her sister and I had noticed one back corner was especially creepy and oppressive. While the others took a few minutes to snap some photos, the three of us went back into the corner. We wanted to know what kind of spirit or entity we were dealing with. All of a sudden, we noticed the air just seemed electric, like a static charge. This one corner had a tense, angry feel to it, and then we noticed the room’s peculiar smell, like that of sulfur and dog feces. This was in a food prep room so there was no evidence of raccoons or other vermin present. This vat room area is where the “Creeper “ is usually seen and photographed. I don’t believe this Creeper is something demonic, but something that crawls up walls and looks like some twisted alien spider is certainly not a long lost loved one, either. This whole vat room area, being 100 years old, can house many different layers of energies. A century  of hard work, pain, fatigue. 100 years of anger and arguments just swirling and waiting for a living being, an outside energy source from which to draw energy. That sudden smell of bile can be indicative of a demonic presence . We don’t play that game. I have no interest in engaging with demonic energies. Why give them the satisfaction? What they want is to be the center of attention. It empowers them.We don’t need that kind of drama, this is why we have personal and spiritual boundaries.  Quickly, the three of us said a quick prayer and called in Archangel Michael. We called in Angels to blind the room with Ethereal light. The results were amazing. In the length of a finger snap, the room spun, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers!                                                                                                                                                           The negative feeling was still mildly present, but was retreating back into it’s corners, as if pouting.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We gathered everyone back together to do a short EVP session. We needed to inform the group that we felt there was a negative energy present, one, for safety’s sake and two, I wanted to steer the EVP questions in a very specific direction. We just went to all this trouble to push this negative energy or being back away from us and made our intentions clear we weren’t going to engage with such a being. The last thing I wanted was someone in the group asking, “ Is there ANYONE here who wants to talk? Make your presence known.” Yeah, let’s just invite it in, like some vampire movie! Just like using a Ouija board, if you intend and allow anything and anyone to come on in, they will, and you might not like who or what shows up. This EVP session was interesting for several reasons. I was very specific in whom I addressed. I only wanted to speak to deceased people, nothing else in this area. I didn’t want to invite anything dark into our circle. When you do an EVP session, you usually ask one or two questions and then pause a few seconds, to give the spirits a chance to respond. All I could hear was dogs barking and the resident peacocks yowling during the entire session. We played it back. Where an EVP should have been on the recording, we all heard what sounded like radio interference, like someone was jamming the airwaves. And peacocks. And dogs barking. I thought the whole session had been a waste until one of the investigators pointed out a strange coincidence. She said, “ Do you notice the peacocks and dogs only make noise when we’re recording? “ Now they’ve stopped. “ Hmm.. It was kinda quiet. Let’s try this again, maybe they just went to sleep. Nope. We tried recording again, only to have the peacocks start squawking  and the dogs start barking again! Every time we hit “record” some sort of audible interference would manifest. It was as though something was intentionally disrupting our ability  to communicate with the other side. Could it have been this negative entity somehow causing some sort of static interference? Was whatever negative force that lurked inside these 100 year old vat rooms angry that we didn’t want to interact with it and was still making it’s presence known by not allowing us to communicate with anything else? I’ve never encountered anything quite like that. I’ve had EVP sessions where when played back all you hear is static, like some sort of electromagnetic disturbance, but never static timed in specific spots on a recording. It was a little freaky, to say the least.                                                                                                                   We chalked this up as personal experience since static on a recording doesn’t prove the paranormal.       OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                                        OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We were anxious to get into the barn loft area as this is frequently a hotbed of paranormal activity. We waited until late in the evening because it had been so warm that day. even at 10:00 at night our Mel Meters were reading an ambient temperature of 84 degrees..With everyone seated in a large circle in the dimly lit attic I tried to get a feel for the room. I wanted to see if any spirits who had  worked at the Graber Olive house might still be hanging around. I could see a shadowy figure standing on the stairs leading up to the attic. There were strips of leather hanging on the walls and this spirit brushed up against them, making the straps sway in a ghostly breeze. I asked him to please join us in the room, but he seemed so shy, probably couldn’t figure out why a bunch of people were sitting in his attic space. Another investigator had set up a laser grid just past the stair landing. The green laser lights flickered when the spire walked past. This helped everyone in the room see where the spirit was moving and provided scientific documentation on what I was seeing. The shy spirit slipped against the wall and joined us, just watching. We had several pieces of equipment set up including a couple Mel Meters, a RemPod, and we were running our digital recorders. Okay, this is where things got a little..weird.. The energy in the room began to shift. It became more statically charged and we could feel a change in pressure. Kimberly was sitting to my right. All of a sudden, everyone in the room began seeing flickers and dashes of lights behind Kimberly. They were different colors, blue, white, green. I have seen color anomalies manifest around Kimberly when she calls in Angels. “Are you calling them in?” I asked “No, It’s not me.” Something was up. I began to feel someone standing behind me. I thought it might be the spirit who had come up the stairs deciding to come in closer. But then all of us started feeling as though someone was standing behind them. each person describing similar feelings, one person said it felt like a blanket was being wrapped protectively around her. As we sat there, being delighted by each of us having a personal experience, A few of us began to see some odd little spirit entities enter the room. Not one, not three, but more like twenty little spirits, elementals, I’m not sure what they were started BOUNCING into the room! Yes, I said BOUNCING! They appeared to be about two feet high and almost as wide, bouncing into the room. They looked like ghostly Oompa Loompas hopping about. Bouncy, bouncy ,bouncy. Then they discovered my RemPod. Beeeeeeeep! It started alarming like crazy. Now usually when there is a disturbance in electromagnetic fields, the RemPod merely beeps in a short burst. This RemPod was going off! It was alarming continuously and loudly. I think a few of these Oompa Loompa spirits must have been fighting over it,I really half expected it to fly across the room, they must have been tugging at it so hard. One of the docent investigators had just come up the stairs to see what all this noise was. The first thing he noticed was how charged the room felt. “Wow, this room really feels different.” I asked him with all this beeping and alarming going non stop if he had encountered a RemPod just alarming continuously like this. Nope. I asked the Oompa Loompas to step away from the device. No good. This had been beeping constantly for a good two or three minutes now. I figured I’d better try to debunk it by seeing if it had malfunctioned, but I kind of hated to take their new toy away from them. I picked it up and it still was beeping it’s alarm. A RemPod is only supposed to beep when something breaks it’s electromagnetic beam, like a motion detector. Something was physically touching it, something we couldn’t see. With the Beeping RemPod in my lap, I fumbled for the off switch. Before I could shut it off, the alarms stopped. I had taken their toy away, big meany. The energy was still crazy in the attic, we had beings standing behind each investigator, the worker spirit was still standing pinned against the wall, probably freaked out by now, and bouncy things were all over the place, and oh yeah, light anomalies were still flashing. The RemPod didn’t go off again, even though I said they could have it. Guess I spoiled their fun. With all that climactic  activity and then poof, nothing. All went quiet.                                                                                                                That’s usually the case in an investigation, activity reaches a peak and then winds down.                   They’d had their fun and gone home.    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

There had been no more activity and by now we all decided to take a much needed water break.  The cool night air was a pleasant relief. We  sat outside, describing what personal experiences we had just had, all the while munching on S’Mores. Hey, I know how to wind up an investigation!  We were pretty much done with the evening, having had so much activity in such a short time. There was a short road on the property that leads to a small house. It has huge, ancient trees on either side. Oddly, everyone seemed drawn to this road all at the same time. It was as if the spirits were calling to us one last time. We all stared snapping photos and every one was filled with dozens of bright, glowing orbs. Now usually I am quick to debunk orbs of light as dust particles or bugs or pretty much anything oner than paranormal. But the fact that we all felt the energy, we all felt drawn to this exact spot at this exact time, something was reaching out to us. There were no bugs flying about and there was no dust on the road . It was just a magical end to a very special investigation. I really felt as though  ancient  earthly spirits had interacted with us that night. It was like no paranormal encounter I’ve ever witnessed. I felt truly blessed.                  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA                 If you enjoyed this blog, ( and all of it was true, even the oompa loompas!) please “like us on Facebook to see upcoming events at   https://www.facebook.com/KittyJanusz and check out my website at  http://kittyjanusz.com/