The Beginning of my Journey

As an energy worker, I am often asked questions like “when did you realize you had these abilities?” or “how long have you been able to sense energy?” The short answer is, most of my life.

I was lucky that my grandmother was our primary caretaker. She was with us since 1954 through 1964 with only minor periods of time where she was away. My grandmother didn’t tell us much about herself yet she was the instigator for many of my mystical experiences. We did things like levitating our dinner table and shortly after each other.

We didn’t question where she came up with the ideas for our games. It never occurred to me that there could be some connection to our ancestors. My brother, sister and I do recall that she told us once that we might have a drop of Indian blood in us yet she never elaborated.

When I was in the fifth grade my grandmother, brother, sister and I began to hold séances with the neighborhood kids. We would play a game where we would send one of the kids out of the room while the rest of us decided what it was we would have them do when they returned. It was simple silly stuff like walking over to the phone and picking it up or walking to the coffee table and picking up the ashtray. Once we decided the task, we could not speak until the chosen kid acted out what we wanted them to do. We were silent using only our thoughts to impress the child to do our bidding.

When it was my turn to be the recipient, I always thought I was really being directed by the spirits. I thought that it was a part of the game to pretend the spirits weren’t there. I would literally feel myself being pushed in an indescribable way around my legs and shoulders to do the actions my friends wanted me to do. The closest I can describe the sensation is if I were standing in a windstorm and the wind was pushing me. Only there was no wind and I was not being blown around simply gently guided. Every one of us felt something moving and guiding us to do the very thing the group had decided on.

At a similar point in time of my childhood, I took notice that every morning I had to search for my shoes. I began to question what was going on. I intentionally put my shoes where no one could accidentally kick them or see them. Sure enough, every morning my shoes would be somewhere else, usually way under the bed and against the wall. I was determined to find an acceptable explanation for the movement of my shoes. I asked my grandmother, mother, brother and sister if they were moving my shoes and not only did they say no they looked at me like I was loony.

One day I was at my neighbors playing in her bedroom and she told me about her shoes. She said that when she went to bed at night she placed her shoes in a particular location and inevitably in the morning they were shoved way back under her bed. Of course I shared my experience with her and we decided to take more drastic measures to see who was messing with our shoes. We never found the culprit. It was around this point in my life where I began to realize that I had access to something few others did – and that the shoe trickster was most likely not human.