The universe is full of surprises, even for a psychic like me. Sometimes I can’t believe my life’s story includes raising an awesome family, enduring devastating loss, and communicating with enlightened souls on the Other Side. I’ve come to embrace the unpredictability, chaos, and beauty of it all, which has led to profound happiness—though, trust me, it wasn’t always this way. I had to learn how to utilize divine guidance, listen to my intuition, and grow from my experiences to create the life I love.
Every one of us has what I call a Universal Team of Spirit, including angels, spirit guides, departed loved ones, religious deities, and other evolved souls who help you maneuver through life’s ups and downs. And during many difficult years, it was my own Team that helped me move forward. As I did, they carefully revealed an effective approach that has taught me to connect with my highest angels and spirit guides, call upon them, and engage their very best guidance. This is the Believe, Ask, and Act process—three simple and powerful steps that hone your intuition, set change in motion, and clear roadblocks that stand in your way to happiness. No matter what challenges I face, these valuable steps are the reason I wake up every day thinking, I’ve got this. It’s the most empowering feeling I know.
In this chapter, I’d like to share my story so that you can see how Spirit has helped shape my world since I was a child and continues to do so through Believe, Ask, and Act. In fact, my Team tells me it’s no coincidence that they introduced me to the steps during my darkest times. They wanted to make sure I understood every aspect firsthand so that I could compellingly share it with clients, and now with you.
I’ve been gradually feeling, seeing, hearing, and dreaming of Spirit since I was five years old, but I wasn’t able to truly understand what I sensed or make practical use of it until later in life. These encounters ran the gamut from obscure to creepy to awe-inspiring. My earliest experiences occurred at my uncle’s house, where I simply sensed a presence in the basement that made me want to bolt upstairs—it was jarring to feel that “someone” was with me whom I visibly couldn’t see. Sometimes I’d look down his hall and feel like a person should be there, though I’d never witness a figure or shadow with my naked eye; my instincts just told me a being was hanging around. In retrospect, I believe this was Spirit’s way of gently revealing my gift to me—here, I’d feel a soul’s presence, which is called clairsentience—so I wouldn’t become too overwhelmed or scared by the range of my abilities. Had I, say, heard a disembodied voice or seen a full apparition so young, it might have led me to ignore or fear any kind of divine communication and therefore hesitate to pursue my gift as an adult.
During my grade school years, I began having more obvious encounters with the Other Side. Most of them were comforting and related to family, home, and spiritual references that I could understand. For instance, I often dreamed about enormous, magnificent angels. In one dream, I was with my brother Anthony. We were in a giant field, and when we both looked at the sky, it just . . . opened up for us. Amid the ethereal white clouds, I could see the general shape of huge, brightly lit feet walking above me. I remember Anthony telling me to “stop staring” at them, but I just couldn’t! That’s when a bluish-white angel the size of a skyscraper emerged. And while I couldn’t see the details of its face or clothes, I was captivated by its large wings and the gentle, protective feeling I had in its presence. I now know this was Archangel Michael, because he’s since shown me his blue light during meditations. Looking back, I believe he was sent by God to hold my attention so that I’d stay open to my future spiritual path.
Around the age of twelve, I had similarly vivid encounters with my great-grandmother Alessandra’s soul after she died. We were very close while she was alive, and I loved hearing her stories about what it was like for her to move with her family from Rome to New York. I remember watching her cook meatballs in a cast-iron pan and picking fresh mint and basil with her in the garden. My great-grandmother actually lived with my uncle for many years, and when she passed away, he left the majority of her room intact. I often snuck into this area to feel her presence around me. I’d touch the white and ruby-red rosary beads that still hung on her bedpost, run my hand over her paisley bedspread, and hold a small porcelain doll that usually sat on her dresser. I could feel her energy surround and envelop me as I did, and I knew her soul was with me as I interacted with the objects she’d once adored.
A few startling encounters with Spirit occurred when I was young, too, which often happens to intuitives, though many don’t publicly talk about it. When a psychic medium hasn’t learned how to establish boundaries, all kinds of energy, some better or “higher” than others, can reveal themselves to her. This first occurred when I was nine years old, and a thick, opaque shadow with a tall, broad form and pointy ears passed outside our living room window. It scared the bejesus out of me—I ran upstairs, crying, and told Mom that a scary creature was creeping around the house. This didn’t seem to faze her, as she tried to calm me down. What Mom didn’t reveal was that she’d serendipitously arranged to have a psychic over the next day, who cleared the negative energy from our home. Mom never told the psychic what I saw; the woman sensed this on her own, and ten years actually passed before Mom even told me about what made the negative energy disappear.
Believe it or not, the experience with the shadow wasn’t half as terrifying as when Spirit revealed the extent to which I could forecast sickness and death. During my great-grandmother Alessandra’s final month alive, I could smell her illness and impending passing; it was a thick, stale odor. And in my early teens, when my friend Lori and I were at a wedding together, at one point she looked to me as if she were engulfed by a misty gray cloud or aura. I had to squint to see her face. It was confusing because Lori was such an upbeat and joyful person; what I saw wasn’t in sync with her personality. I never said a word about it to anyone, but the next day, I was devastated when my mom told me Lori had died from a sudden illness. I’d seen it coming in a way, and the gravity of this realization weighed on me. Having the foresight to know a person might die—yet no capacity to affect such an outcome—was extremely heavy and hard to process, especially as a child.
My abilities continued to open and expand into my late teens, and thankfully the large majority of them were positive and fun. I dreamed of other time periods in France and Italy that I believe were past lives. And when close family members died, they’d playfully pay me a visit. I remember gathering for Sunday dinners with my living family and seeing deceased loved ones at the table, too! My mom is also intuitive, and she and I began having the same dreams about my departed grandmother and my aunt Rose. We could both describe what their hair looked like, what they were wearing, and what they talked about—to a tee.
It had become increasingly clear that I had a stronger intuition than the average bear, and the more I accepted it, the more Spirit validated it. I’d guess songs on the radio before they played or know how a conversation would go down before it happened. With the exception of sensing illness, which I tried my best to tune out, I was no longer startled or surprised when I could exercise my psychic muscle—in fact, I got a real kick out of it! I considered my abilities to be a pretty cool gift that I was born with, the way some can tinkle a song on the piano by ear. But I still couldn’t use it consistently or at will.
Most of the women in my mom’s family are, or were while they were alive, psychic to varying degrees, so I was taught to embrace my random experiences and abilities as part of who I am. This didn’t conflict with these women’s faiths, since the Northern Italian matriarchs in my life always embraced a cultural blend of spirituality or mysticism and organized religion. So many Italians do, though most don’t realize or acknowledge it. For instance, the Italian horn, or corno, is meant to protect against the evil eye; it’s been said to represent the Virgin Mary standing on a lunar crescent. But even further back, it’s thought to symbolize the Old European moon goddess. Or what about Saint Padre Pio? He was an ordained priest who bore the stigmata but also had healing gifts and the ability to read souls like angels.
Though both spiritual and faithful influences were all around me, I was never raised with a religion. My dad didn’t subscribe to one, and after Mom gave birth to me and my brother, she left Catholicism and embarked on her own spiritual quest. Our family celebrated Christian holidays like Christmas and Easter, but Mom referred to God as an energetic higher power that created the universe. As early as grade school, she taught me to believe in spiritual teachers like Jesus and Buddha—or “higher masters,” as she called them—spirit guides, angels, and the idea that our souls graduate to different planes of consciousness when we die. During elementary school, I attended spirituality conferences with Mom, and we’d meditate together almost every night. During this, she said I should see colors or images in my “third eye,” or “mind’s eye,” though I never could. I did learn the practice of being still while other kids threw tantrums, and on weekends, Mom and I would wonder what God had in store as many churchgoers were told the best stuff already happened. Mom kept her mind open to new metaphysical theories and inspired me to do the same.
So imagine Mom’s complete and utter thrill when she went to see a reputable psychic medium named John Edward—young, talented, and still working out of his mother’s basement in Long Island. She was referred by a friend at work. I was about eighteen at the time, and during her reading, he told Mom that I, too, was a medium who hadn’t learned to hone her skills yet. Though she wasn’t too surprised, Mom was so excited to tell me this. John might as well have said I’d become a doctor! This was a fascinating validation for me, as well, because when I’d meet psychics through my mom, a voice inside would say, “You can do that,” but it felt silly to admit this aloud.
Since I was on the cusp of adulthood, it was cool to hear a psychic reveal that I had such a wild future ahead of me. And while I’d met gifted intuitives through my mom, I didn’t know there was a distinct group of them that could connect with the afterlife the way John does. He knew details about my family’s past, present, and future—all from departed loved ones—that were so accurate, it blew Mom away. So for him to say our abilities were similar? This was like hitting the cosmic jackpot for a spiritual mom and her curious daughter. A medium! I thought. That’s what I’m called! And then: Holy crap. How do I learn to do this?
I began to search for more information about what lay ahead of me, but I couldn’t get a handle on how one is meant to hone any intuitive ability, much less spin it into a fulfilling life. I tried using tarot cards, but I couldn’t get them to work. I meditated every day, hoping for an epiphany or vision, but I saw only the backs of my eyelids. I attended a few Spiritualist events, but at that age, I couldn’t relate to their woo-woo vibe. I read metaphysical books about stating intentions, but they never told me how to act on them, so I put those aside and picked up memoirs by famous mediums like Sylvia Browne and James Van Praagh. These were always fascinating, but they didn’t offer the practical answers I craved.
Back in the real world, I was in my twenties, working long hours in the retail industry and going out at night. Clearly, the psychic thing wasn’t panning out as I’d hoped, though I still had an uncanny sense for when I was about to get a raise and could give a friend spot-on advice that’d later come to fruition. I also continued to dream of angels and have mind-blowing premonitions. I’ll never forget when I was cruising down the highway with a friend and heard a voice inside me say, “Pull over. There’s going to be an accident.” Just as I did—bam!—a small black compact slammed into a massive tractor trailer, right where my car had been seconds earlier.
This was all really helpful and fascinating to me, but again, I wanted to sharpen my intuitive abilities and be able to use them in a consistent way—though Spirit had no plans to hand me my road map anytime soon. In fact, I remember a dream I had where I was sitting on a sofa next to my grandmother’s soul as she was quietly knitting, and I asked her about my gift. She responded by placing her index finger over her lips, like the old lady whispering hush in Goodnight Moon.
By my midtwenties, I put my spiritual search aside, got married, and gave birth to a gorgeous daughter and son. Before she was born, I dreamed about my little girl at six months old and smiled at a tiny beauty mark she still has on the top of her head. After she was born, I dreamed I was pregnant again, but this time, I saw a baby floating in utero and it made me feel queasy. I sensed this child wouldn’t flourish, and I was very upset when I lost it. Then I got pregnant a third time, and when I was only a few weeks in, I was drifting in and out of a nap on my sofa, and I could literally hear a toddler’s feet pattering around me as he giggled and laughed! My mom was visiting, and when I woke up, she said, “You have a little boy running around. He came right up to my face!” It was still too early to know the child’s sex, but sure enough, my vivacious son was born seven months later.
Maybe because my parents divorced when I was thirteen, I had idealistic hopes for what my marriage and family would be like. After my daughter was born, I hurried to quit my job, stayed home with the kids, and became furiously protective of them—I was a proud mama bear, if ever there was one. To be honest, I still am. I loved playing house and adored everything about being a mother and wife, but when I hit my thirties, my happiness began to shift. I faced frustrating health issues, threw myself into more activities than I could manage, and realized that beyond loving and living for my kids, I was trying to busy myself because life felt a bit empty. I also never stopped grieving my failed pregnancy, and I think that impacted my marriage more than my husband and I admitted at the time. Somewhere between me juggling my responsibilities as head of the PTA and an appointed member of the school board, and my husband trying to balance his work and home life, we disconnected and drifted apart. We stopped communicating, and my self-esteem took a nosedive. I felt like I was disappearing, and I couldn’t tell you who I was anymore. It was a confusing time for us both, and I found many hours of solace in pints of vanilla moose tracks.
Yet no matter how blue I felt, I knew deep inside that my muted and mixed-up day-to-day existence was not my fate—I knew I wasn’t living true to myself. And while I sensed there was more for me, I didn’t know how to find or achieve it. For example, I tried the daytime talk show approach of embarking on a regimen to boost my self-esteem that included running, holistic health, and spending quality time with girlfriends. But in my heart, I knew acupuncture and appletinis could only do so much, and my problems were too messy to untangle on my own. It was a dizzying reality for me, when all I wanted was to feel safe, grounded, and truly content. I thought about how my picket-fence fantasies had failed me, my self-improvement efforts fell short, and the spiritual compasses I’d tried to use and understand let me down.
A still, small voice inside said it was time to turn to God in a new way—at least for me.
I began to pray. A lot. Since I wasn’t raised with religion, I didn’t know exactly what to say or how to address Him—I just did what came naturally. On my knees every night, I asked God for help in a way that felt comfortable. I had what felt like a conversation that placed a request and expressed gratitude in anticipation of an answer. My prayers changed depending on the day, but they mostly circled the words Thank you for telling me what I need to do. Thank you for showing me my next steps and protecting my kids during whatever you have in mind. I’d sense a response that would guide me to baby steps that felt like progress. For example, one night after asking to be shown a support system during this hard time, it dawned on me that I might enjoy being part of a church. My daughter had been enrolled in Catholic school for four years at this point, yet I never paused to understand what she was learning. I realized we might both benefit from taking our God journey together. So I visited three parishes in town until I found the best fit for me. I took classes with the priest, who taught me about God’s ways and was there for me when I needed advice. I nourished my belief system and found a lot of peace in the church’s structure and community. At the Easter Vigil that first year, I received communion and confirmation (my daughter was still too young for either). The forward motion felt encouraging.
As all this unfolded, I felt divine guidance at work; each step came with a soft prod to keep going and a sense that everything was going to be okay—maybe not immediately ideal, but doable. I know now that having sudden good ideas, feeling drawn to uncanny choices, and receiving calm validations that you’re on the right track are all ways that Spirit leads you through intuition. For me, I think that being spiritually open from childhood and finding a church that insisted I could have a relationship with a loving God helped me invest in a belief system that I could get behind. And then actively trusting God encouraged me to examine and pursue the feelings, conversations, and opportunities that arose, because I felt that between His guidance and my choices, I’d land where I needed to be.
During this time, it also became increasingly clear that I had to address my marriage. I’d been paying closer attention to my feelings, hearing arguments in a more realistic light, and feeling my husband’s distance in a new way. When he and I met, I was a pleaser and fixer, and I loved him enough to try to figure out how to make our marriage work. But the more I grew, the more I craved a natural emotional connection we didn’t have. I wasn’t happy, and it wasn’t fair to either of us to go on like this.
I remember telling my priest how upset I was to consider divorce, and I couldn’t believe how he responded. “God wants you to be happy,” he said. “He’s not sitting in Heaven, judging whether you’re playing by the rules every day. Do what you need to do to feel good.” That was so freeing, I can’t tell you. I felt that my kids deserved a lighthearted and goofy mom, not a depressed one. I went back to work, and my husband and I separated. We continued to parent as a team but under different roofs. I’m not going to lie—it was hard at first. I had more bad days than good, trying not to question our choice or look over my shoulder. I felt lonely and wondered how our relationship would affect the kids long term.
Then a few months after my husband left, he called to say that his father, James, had fallen from a ladder and onto his concrete driveway. I typically don’t panic in a crisis—I’m calm under pressure and usually the one who figures things out. But when I heard about the accident, I frantically called my friend Corinne to insist she come stay with the kids. I knew something was very wrong and that I needed to be with my in-laws. The medics airlifted James to a nearby hospital, and we learned that the fall caused a life-threatening brain injury.
James was in a coma for six weeks, and then he passed away. His death was a tragic, devastating blow for our entire family, as he was such a strong father figure to all of us. James was always front and center at the kids’ games and recitals, joined us on vacation every year, and visited on a daily basis. I loved him so much, and he and my mother-in-law, with whom I’m still close, were inseparable. I already felt tremendous guilt over my failed marriage, and telling the kids that their grandfather died was the last thing I wanted to do. They’d cried enough, and now this. I was also a mess. Between James’s unexpected death and the separation, it felt like the world was ending. But the collective blow put so much in perspective that, while my husband and I did finalize the divorce, we haven’t really fought since.
My own journey through the Believe, Ask, and Act process had begun to take shape, though I didn’t connect my experiences with those words at the time. But through the confusion, grief, and emotional displacement, I had faith, asked for guidance, and acted on the direction I felt—even when I had to work through heartache and frustration to get to my goals. I leaned on divine guidance while claiming responsibility for how I lived. I came to terms with my divorce, which also meant overcoming a tremendous amount of fear and enduring painful gossip from some friends and family members. I stepped outside my comfort zone and trusted that even terrifying risks can lead to progress. And I just continued moving forward, with a growing faith in the universe. I also found that the more I prayed, the harder my challenges became—not because God was testing me, but because I was being honest about what I needed to do and could see clearly that the path wouldn’t be easy. I expressed gratitude anyway and removed all time frames from what I was about to learn or encounter next.
Although it wasn’t an easy move, I could feel that I was in the driver’s seat of my life, acting on the directions that God and His emissaries sent me.
About a month after my father-in-law passed, I felt led to make two additional, pivotal moves. I began to spend more time with an old friend named Chris and revisit my interests in honing my instincts and psychic abilities. I knew these choices were guided, because they felt good in a way that reminded me of how I felt when I made other wise decisions that had worked out for the best. I also felt a mix of positive anticipation and butterflies, which I now know is how Spirit energy feels when it channels through me.
I met a spiritual teacher from Long Island named Pat Longo through a mixed-up referral, and here’s where my story came together for me. I was actually scheduled to see another now-famous celebrity medium, but she had to cancel at the last minute, and so my friend who’d referred me to her suggested I see Pat instead. She thought Pat was this woman’s psychic, so I was game—a famous psychic’s psychic? I’m in! But when I called Pat, she explained she was a spiritual teacher and healer, not a psychic, and the medium was once her student. She asked if I wanted to cancel, but I felt that this coincidence, coupled with my stalled efforts to understand my abilities, was about to make sense.
“Nope, I’m supposed to come see you,” I said. “I know it.”
During our visit, I shared my entire history with Pat, including my premonitions and dreams. She asked if I could “hear Spirit,” and I had no idea what she meant. Once in a while I’d hear an audible voice when I was the only person in the room, but I didn’t chat up ghosts all day. “Spirit comes in your own voice,” she clarified, further explaining that souls mostly use our instincts and inner voice to communicate with us. That’s when, out of nowhere, I heard my own inner voice say Mention the A-name—and when I repeated it to Pat, she said her deceased mom’s name is Alice. Get out of town!
Pat took this psychic validation as a cue to perform a healing on me. She asked me to close my eyes and she placed her hands over my body. She channeled energy from her angels and spirit guides to improve my physical, mental/emotional, and spiritual health. This process can also open intuitive doorways, so to speak, which is what happened next.
“Tell me if you see, hear, or feel anything,” Pat said.
I told her I felt a peacefulness wash over me. My eyes were shut, but I saw purple, blue, and green waves swirling around like a lava lamp in my third eye (Mom would be proud!). Pat said the colors corresponded to the awakening of my chakras: Purple represents spiritual awareness, my third eye expanding, and the ability to see clairvoyantly. Blue symbolizes my ability to communicate and express myself. And green stands for my capacity to offer compassion, love, and healing to others. For Pat, the colors helped validate which of my intuitive abilities were about to become the most active in my life.
After doing her thing, Pat moved across the room so I could sit alone with my eyes still closed. This is fun but kind of nuts, I thought—and remembering this now, I can almost hear my angels and spirit guides laugh, You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Things got crazier real fast. I was facing a glass door, and even with my eyes shut, I could see golden sunlight streaming through. Then all of a sudden, I saw a figure emerge from the wall to my right and block out the light from the doorway. Standing in front of me was a full apparition of my father-in-law, James. He looked so young and vibrant! He wore a blue-and-white-striped shirt and denim jeans, and he had long hair and an eighties mustache like when he was young. I started to cry.
“It’s time to use your gift,” James said to me. “You’re ready now. I’ll be back.” He smiled and walked out of the room. In life and in death, he’s a no-nonsense guy.
“What the hell was that?” I asked Pat, after telling her what happened.
“You’re a medium,” she said, calm but giddy. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”
For the next year, I traveled almost two hours to Pat’s group classes to feverishly learn everything I could about how to finally grow, control, and use my abilities. I did my homework and followed her instructions to the letter. Most importantly, I learned to trust what I was sensing and the information I was delivering—no matter how crazy it felt to do this for a stranger, without any context whatsoever. Can you imagine saying to someone you’ve never met, “Your dad is standing next to you, incredibly well dressed, and I can smell his musky cologne. He wants to thank you for the pocket watch you placed in his coffin”—and then having that same person break down in tears and say, “Oh, my gosh, you’re describing my dad perfectly!”? It made me feel good to help people in this way, and at the same time, it felt like a validating relief to finally do what I always felt and was told I was capable of doing.
The next chapter of my life was unfolding. For the first time in years, I felt at home in my body, mind, and soul—guided, all along, by God and Spirit. I noticed, too, that as I took leaps of faith in this area, my personal life came together. My kids felt more settled and their sadness was lifting; my ex had moved on; and my friend Chris turned out to be the great love of my life. It felt so soothing to know that deep, genuine, and absolute love not only existed but existed for me. I’d met my soul’s true partner. The kids embraced Chris wholeheartedly, and two years later, we married. Our family was complete.
In Pat’s class, I learned about the Other Side (or Heaven, as I also like to call it), how to hone my instincts with understanding and exactitude, and how to live a more spiritually balanced life. One of the first things she taught us is that there’s a thin, invisible veil that exists between our world and the Other Side. Souls are made of energy, which has different frequencies depending on what state it’s in—a soul in Heaven operates on a higher frequency, while human energy is lower. When I channel, my consciousness and Spirit’s consciousness meet in the middle, which is why psychics like me are called mediums. Pat also pointed out that one’s faith and spirituality should complement each other, as they both reinforce a belief in a higher power and underscore the importance of practicing forgiveness, gratitude, trust, and refraining from all judgment. She insisted that I utilize, share, and embrace my abilities without guilt, shame, ego, and fear and that I use them to lovingly serve others because they are a gift from God.
In class, I also learned to communicate with Spirit in a safe and protected way that allowed me to receive and translate messages from the Other Side. In order to do this work, Pat said I had to establish boundaries with Spirit during meditation so that I could always feel comfortable with the sensations they impressed upon me. The first thing I specified was that I no longer wanted to experience major illness, death, or negativity—it freaked me out when I was young, and I asked Spirit to take that away. It worked!
A very constructive part of Pat’s instruction involved reading other students for practice. I’d been to only three sessions when, one morning, I heard a voice in the shower. It was my own voice, but it felt like it was coming from a man. Unlike in the past, the voice did not come from my head or my gut; it spoke into my inner ear. Tuning in to this sound reminded me of trying to tune in on a radio station—I could hear bits and pieces of a message, and when I remembered from class how to access the actual voice, it came in loud and clear.
“Uh, hello?” the voice said.
“Hello?” I answered aloud, rushing to shut off the water, jump out of the shower, and cover myself with a towel. I grabbed a pen and pad in the bedroom and began taking notes on what the soul wanted to relay. It turned out to be a message for a classmate from his deceased father. When I delivered it that night, my friend assured me that every word resonated. I couldn’t believe how far I’d come! In no time at all, I was able to hear Spirit in my head and ear (known as clairaudience), see them with my naked eye and mind’s eye, or third eye (clairvoyance), and feel them around or touch me (clairsentience). Though I tap three heightened senses when I channel, every intuitive is different in how they sense Spirit.
Though I’ve always been the friend you turn to for advice and guidance, I always thought this was because I’m a loudmouthed Italian with strong opinions. Now, I realize this is as much my personality as it is part of my soul’s best path! The fact that I’m often right may have little to do with me, because I think I’ve been inadvertently channeling guided opinions longer than I realize! Between Spirit’s direction and my gift of gab, we’re quite a team. I thank God every day for leading me to Pat’s capable hands.
Though I’d brought my consciousness to a whole new level, a lot of what I now knew to be true simply reinforced what I’d been taught about the universe at a very young age. Remember, I had always sensed Spirit to some degree, so I wasn’t so much astonished that Heaven was for real as I was excited to connect with the souls that called it home. What amazed me most at the time, and still does, is that the messages I deliver are consistently correct, purposeful, and detailed. Am I in complete awe when Spirit predicts a pregnancy, takes a client’s hand during a reading, and creates signs and scenarios that guide us all on our soul’s best path? Absolutely. But I try not to get caught up in the wow factor associated with what I do. It’s delicate work to channel for grief-stricken clients and those in need of life’s direction. It’s also enormously humbling and rewarding to know it’s my soul’s purpose to work in conjunction with the universe this way.
After I finished class, I began to see clients in my home office to channel messages from departed loved ones, and once I felt comfortable with this, Spirit quickly expanded my abilities even more. During my clients’ readings, I began communicating with the souls that guide them—their Universal Teams—and many sessions became counseling oriented. Sometimes Spirit would start dispensing guidance halfway through a mediumship reading with loved ones; other times, clients would specifically schedule an intuitive counseling session to address, say, an impending business deal or relationship issue. I’m a firm believer that Spirit always gives you the messages you need, since it’s their job to love, protect, and guide you in life. This perhaps explains a third group of people who’d book a mediumship session and quickly learn that a loved one was actually part of their Team and wanted to talk about a client’s personal roadblocks!
No matter how much my clients appreciate the information that helps them create change and happiness, they can’t help but wonder what I see. I don’t blame them—it’s a fascinating reveal for me, too! So here’s the deal. It takes a lot of energy to appear as a 3-D apparition, so the way James came to me, for instance, doesn’t happen a lot. I mostly see Spirit with my eyes open but in front of me with my third eye; in both scenarios, I tend to see messages play out like a movie or slide show. I can also sustain an energetic image with my third eye much longer than if I see it with the naked eye, which is helpful.
If I do see images with my naked eye, I’m usually floored. Once, I read a client who’d lost her dad. In the middle of my driveway, clear as day, I saw a solid flagpole waving an American flag—seconds later, it was gone! This made me think of the Fourth of July, and that was the soul’s birthday, which is why Spirit showed me the image. And when there’s a lot of energy in the room, it turns cloudy or misty to my naked eye. I might also see flashes of white light, as Spirit prepares for me to channel them.
When souls on your Team are in Spirit form, their energy is pure light; however, they present themselves to me in a way that jives with how you remember them if they’re loved ones, or if they’re higher beings, your belief system and/or a former lifetime of theirs. A grandfather, for example, might appear as white light but wear recognizable glasses and a hat so that you can verify his identity. Or if you’re Catholic, I might see angels with wings—particularly with archangels—because that’s a familiar biblical image. Yet in meditation, archangels have dropped their “skin” to me and appeared as colored light. If I’m channeling for a Hindu, I’m not going to see Jesus but maybe Ganesh. Egyptians, Grecians, Native Americans, Tibetan monks, and religious figures can also guide you, as can the souls of beings who lived on other planets. This last group can guide you from the Other Side just like earthly guides who once lived here and do their work from Heaven. Don’t freak out: Planetary guides have souls of light, created by God, just like you and me. They have wonderful intentions and are all about positivity.
As I listen carefully to Universal Teams, I may take on their traits, mannerisms, gestures, and tone as I translate what they say. I mostly hear a quick and quiet word, feeling, or sentence that arrives in my thoughts and voice. I know these don’t come from me because they aren’t loud and don’t follow a train of thought the way ideas that come from the mind do. Spirit’s words are usually disconnected from what comes before and after them. Sometimes I can also hear words or have conversations at the same time that I’m talking to a client; please don’t ask how I do this, because I have no clue. Spirit may talk fast or slow, depending on what their energetic vibration is. If I don’t get what they’re saying, I ask Spirit to work harder—I like to channel specifics I couldn’t know any other way. What’s more, I’ve developed a “vocabulary” with spiritual beings to make things easy. Beyond words, they use symbols, sounds, feelings, and smells that help me communicate what they want me to say. For instance, when Spirit jingles the sound of keys in my ear, this cues me to mention that the client may be selling their home, or if a soul shows me a train, that the person I’m reading will be taking a trip.
Today, one of the things I love about communicating with Universal Teams is that I meet incredible energies that emanate goodness, love, and reassurance. The information they share is always positive and for the well-being of my client and humanity at large. These Teams have never led me or my clients astray. Through this work, I’ve broadened my beliefs to include a larger understanding of the universe, which I’ll explain in the next chapter—and I like that it doesn’t negate my belief system but builds on it. A lot of what Spirit shows me is similar to what I was taught as a child and later learned in church. I’ve never doubted Spirit’s intentions or the guidance I channel from the Teams that look out for our best interests.
Though I had the ability to communicate with Spirit my whole life, my Team assures me that I was guided to hone my gift at the “right time.” As a psychic medium and intuitive counselor, I needed to develop my empathy and cultivate life experiences that I could draw on to deliver messages. I had to know what it was to feel fear, loss, loneliness, and insecurity so that I could relate to clients whose lives are at a frustrating or heartbreaking halt. I had to demonstrate that I could give and receive love again through my new marriage. I had to let go of doubt and fear, discover my inner strength, and take meaningful risks. I had to know what it felt like to get knocked down, brush myself off, and keep going with an awareness of and appreciation for God and His messengers in Spirit.
In order to bring Believe, Ask, and Act to you, my Universal Team assures me that I had to walk the walk of the three steps. This doesn’t mean they caused my divorce, losses, and other trying experiences so that I could deliver their message—that would be awful! They simply waited until I encountered big challenges to unveil a process that led to learning and growth. If I’d married another man or not lost a father figure, a different series of obstacles would surely have arisen—we all face these—to prompt me to crystallize my beliefs, communicate with my Team, and learn how to move forward (in Chapter 3, I’ll talk further about what Spirit can and can’t control in the course of your life). No matter when or how the dark night of my soul came about, Spirit knew that I had to go through this period to grasp and communicate Believe, Ask, and Act. Remember, the process was not easier for me because I’m a medium—I had to make the most of stops and starts, just like you. But I emerged with a stronger intuition and awareness of how to navigate life’s complexities, and if you use Believe, Ask, and Act, I’m shown you’ll experience the same. Okay, so maybe you won’t come out of this a psychic, but you will hear from your Team and feel fortified to make the most of your time on this marvelous earth.
I continue to use Believe, Ask, and Act to maintain a connection to my Team and travel my soul’s best path, and I’ve shown thousands of clients how to do the same. The three steps won’t make you coast through life, but they will help you navigate its twists and turns in every area—from relationships to finances to career. Change will feel exciting and come naturally. Joy becomes a reality. Are you ready?