Medium Memoirs

Those you love are always with you, even when you can’t see them. The boundary between the two worlds we call Heaven and Earth isn’t fixed; it's flexible. Our five senses don’t always allow us to perceive the spiritual realm, but that doesn’t mean that those who reside there don’t touch our lives and penetrate our perceptive barriers. Sometimes, they’re content to allow us to feel their presence in a gust of wind that ruffles our hair, or in the way their favorite songs, images, or symbols quite literally jump out at us. At other times, they come to us with more specific messages which can help us move through difficult times with lighter hearts. That’s where I come in. My psychic jump-start on September 9, 2001 expanded my bandwidth and confirmed that I could access information from other locations and destinations. Although it took me a while to get comfortable with this new and unique ability, once I chose to direct it in service to my community, I started to sense the presence of spirits all around me. They appeared in yoga classes, meditation sessions, even on family outings. At first, this was rather alarming: I mean, how do you explain to your family and friends that you’ve suddenly developed a knack for talking to transitioned souls? But gradually, I began to see that my gift was just that: a gift. Spirits reach out to me because I am a channel for their voices. I amplify their messages and intentions so that their loved ones can hear them loud and clear. By employing my psychic talents in service to the loved ones of these spirits who came to call, I can facilitate purposeful guidance and transformation in many lives. I’ve received thousands of spirit communications over the years. A good portion of these were from spirits who wished for their loved ones to move out of the debilitating and contracted state of mourning. When someone we love passes over, it’s natural to feel grief and pain, both for the departed and for our own suffering at their loss. Much of this grief stems from the belief that we are separated from our loved one, that we will never again hear their voices or receive their words of wisdom—but Heaven isn’t a remote location. Once we are given proof that our loved ones are still here, watching over us, that grief can be eased and even transformed. That’s exactly what happened when David introduced himself to me. David: the Angel of Love (and Technology) I have a playful, charming group of girlfriends with whom I train for 5Ks, marathons, and triathlons. Our kids are all about the same age, and we shared a lot of laughter and tears during those aptly titled “formative years.” There are six of us, and after we’d finished passing around a dog-eared copy of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, we started calling ourselves the “Ya-Yas.” As the kids got older and life got busier, we started seeing less of one another. Missy moved to Connecticut, while Judy bravely stepped into life as a newly single mother of three. I was busy with the Yoga Center, trying to balance business ownership with yoga practice and my newfound calling to channel. In 2010, I invited the Ya-Yas to spend a weekend at my family’s house at the Jersey Shore. It had been far too long since we’d had a Sisterhood party, and I was feeling the need to connect with my girls over more than just a marathon. When at last we were gathered in the living room before a roaring fire, I couldn’t stop grinning. Over platters of finger food, we took turns catching the others up on our lives. However, when it was my turn to talk, I found myself holding back. Since the last time we’d all been together, my perspective on how the world works had shifted drastically. It wasn’t just that I was seeing spirits; I was re-working my entire spiritual belief system! I discovered that I wasn’t comfortable sharing some of the more extreme ideas that were rolling around in my consciousness, because I wasn’t sure that they would be accepted or understood, even by my dearest friends. What would my Ya-Yas think if I told them I could talk to spirits? Would they laugh, and tell me I’d finally done a header off the deep end? Would they go all cold and silent, and pretend I’d never broached the subject? I didn’t feel brave enough to find out. So I breezed through some fluffy news about my kids and the Yoga Center, and passed the baton to Judy. Suddenly, there was a deafening clatter from the kitchen. We all jumped. “What the heck was that?” Erin hissed. The noises continued. Pots and pans rattled. Doors opened and slammed shut. Utensils jangled in their drawers. The Ya-Yas exchanged nervous looks. I shrugged apologetically. Although I was beginning to understand what was happening, I still wasn’t ready to come out of the closet. I just stood there, feeling more and more uncomfortable, as the clamor escalated. Finally, there came a gigantic crash. We all screamed. I ran to the kitchen to discover that a whole shelf full of pots and pans had been pulled right off the wall! Obviously, someone really, really wanted our attention. And that someone wasn’t going to stop tearing my kitchen to pieces until I stepped up and used my gift to orchestrate communication. I took a deep breath, and marched back into the living room to face my shaking friends. “Do any of you know of a recently deceased spirit who might want to connect with you?” “What?” “What are you talking about?” “Alaine, are you saying there’s a ghost in your kitchen?” That one brought on some giggles—from everyone except Judy, who looked thoughtful. I tried not to wince. “Not a ghost: a spirit. He feels like someone young, with a connection to cooking and the Jersey Shore.”