A Personal Update

I looked up at the calendar and realized that it is already March and I have yet to put a blog post up this year. For those who have been privy, it’s been a personally strange and surreal time for me. My father is up and down in his status in Hospice care and visiting him at the nursing home has become even more of a priority. My visits over the last three years have gone from once a week to twice a week, to almost every day. I have even opened a Facebook fan page for him, and sometimes he interacts, but oftentimes I am posting for him and reading your posts to him. It's called The Jerryatric News because his name is Jerry and he's 90! If you would like to join his page for updates or to send him cheer, please join: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Jerryatric-News/152257188147162

At present time, we are in the midst of “pick a day that’s good and run with it” because “you never know.” We are three months into “you never know” and we still don’t know very much and I didn’t even know what year it was until yesterday. I am literally forced to go with the flow, and am directing the current by finally opening the Center on Tuesday, March 14, for the first time this year.

I look forward to catching up with everyone, and there are exciting products and services coming your way. I have a book coming out soon, video classes, crystal products and jewelry and a new, affordable way to purchase my energy art. Meanwhile, please know that I am very grateful for all the healing thoughts, prayers and positive vibes you have been sending our way. I thank you for Embracing The Universe with us.

I'm forever reading...Bubbles!

This is a photo of me and Grandma Anna, 1955.
My introduction into reading by way of color and energy happened quite innocently. I was three years old, and we were living across the street from my very psychic grandmother. I remember the day very clearly. My mother had taken me across the street for my grandmother to watch me while my mom went to work in her job as a telephone operator (back when we had live people answering the calls!)

Mom held my hand tightly as we crossed the street. We ran up the steps of Grandma Anna’s small house and through the open screen door, which Mom closed behind us.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, kneeling to address me. “Be a good girl for Grandma.”

I walked down the foyer to her parlor and sat down on the sofa, the plastic seat cover sticking to my legs as my dress rode up behind me. I sat like this for about five minutes before Grandma came out from behind the curtained off room that was her bedroom. We did not often communicate verbally because she could not speak much English, but I always got her message somehow.

However, today something was different. As she sat next to me talking in her native Italian, tiny purple and blue bubbles came streaming from her mouth. I wanted to ask her to share the bubble blower, but I did not see one.

As she continued to speak, the colors changed again to white, green and yellow. I became very aware of Grandma’s mood just from the shifting colors.

Distracted and mesmerized by these bubbles, I watched them form opaque circles before disappearing into the air. They were coming from Grandma Anna’s mouth in slow and steady clusters. I began to feel emotional. The red made me angry and the green had me wanting to tell Grandma to take better care, while the purple suggested that she was wise beyond my limited three-year-old understanding.

“Eh! Snap over it!” she yelled in her fractured English, her fingers clipping in the air to get my attention.

I moved my eyes up to hers. “Huh?”

She looked confused. “Snap out of it,” she corrected.

I did as I was told, but was still seeing the colorful bubbles.

“Grandma, can I have the bubble maker, too?”

Her eyes widened, and she smiled.

It was at that unfortunate moment, that her next “friend” came to visit. All the people who came to her for advice were never referred to as clients or customers, but as friends.

“Come stai, Mr. Marx,” she greeted in Italian, patting my hand and standing so she could lead the way back behind the curtain. She turned and smiled, her hand on the folds of the curtain, ready to close them. “Is good.”

A Loaded Question!

Hello, dear friends:

In an effort to get to know me better, one of my clients presented me with a list of questions she always wanted a Psychic Medium to answer. I took the sheet from her, and looked it over and thought it might be a nice idea to maybe present some of those questions, and the answers they inspired.

WHAT’S IT LIKE TO BE YOU?
This is a loaded question!
No matter who we are, there are always complexities to each of us that are unique. For myself, I view the life I lead as a Psychic Medium as very normal, though I realize it appears to be very paranormal to others. However, when friends or colleagues pointed out to me certain aspects of daily life that border on the unusual, I realize that though I feel I am the “same” as everyone else in so many respects, I’m very different in the way I have to lead my life. Friends site that not everyone hears “voices” or “communicate with dead people” and that, often, those that do are medicated and treated as unbalanced. Thank God for Mom, then, because I owe the stability in my life to her.

When I was three years old, I began to see color bubbles coming out of people’s mouths when they spoke. Depending upon the color of the bubbles, I could tell them what they needed to know. As a child, it’s fun to become distracted by the bubbles, however, it can be dangerous as you grow into adulthood because I’d wind up staring at people. Not only is it impolite, but imagine how you feel when a stranger stares at you! If my mother hadn’t shown me how I could focus my attention on the information the colored bubbles brought, I don’t know what I would have done. As it is, when I go into a movie theater, I have to go at non-peak times or bubbles and voices filling the place will inundate me.

Forget hospitals and nursing homes. Even stadiums are difficult arenas for me to be in. In a hospital, I have to constantly keep myself shut off so that my attention is focused internally. The best way I accomplish that is by wearing my iPod earplugs and blasting The Doors (any music really; but this works for me) into my head.

It’s a little more difficult when I visit my dad in the nursing home, because I feel so overwhelmed by the thoughts of the elderly, as they live in their remembrances and missing loved ones. Many times, those loved ones have crossed over, and as I pass the wheel chairs lined along the corridor, filled with the sleeping and the disoriented, I often also feel or see a spectral family member beside them. I quicken my steps and turn up the sound, or talk to the person I’m with to avoid spirit communication. For me, it’s an intrusion because I am not prepared to work as a Medium at that moment. I am my father’s daughter on those visits, there to visit my family, not those of the nursing home. That inner turmoil can be disconcerting, and I often lose my sense of time and place.

Yes, I am always a Psychic and a Medium…but that should only be with my permission. Otherwise, it benefits no one and I am left with messages that will be undelivered. That can leave me drained and depressed.

To be continued…