Earlier this week, BBC News ran a piece about the state of human cryogenics.  The reporter interviewed a man who is the co-founder of one the few (maybe only?) human cryogenic firms in the world.  The man announced that cryogenics are no longer science fiction but science fact, and for the low, low price of $36,000, his firm will freeze your dead body (or, for a slightly lower price, just your head) in perpetuity, until such time as medicine and technology have advanced a way to cure your fatal disease, repair your fatal injuries, and reverse your death.  The very excited and excitable Cryogenic Man spoke about all of this as inevitable — even the part where we will one day be able to re-attach frozen heads to live bodies (no word on where those headless bodies will come from), and achieve immortality.

Mr. Cryogenic Man scared the bejeezus out of me.



I started the year, as many people do, with thoughts of New Year’s Resolutions.  I must admit that, for a variety of reasons, I am not a fan of these lists.  For one thing, life is constantly changing — things happen, priorities shift — and I don’t see how a list of resolutions made in January could possibly remain relevant past February.  And for another thing, I think that our Inner Critics use these lists like a weapon to beat the self-esteem right out of us.

My first resolution of the year was to find a better way to set New Year’s Resolutions.



I’ve been engrossed in another project for several months now, and my absence from the blogosphere reflects that.  I have not stepped back from this work, as the steady stream of psychic readings I’ve done can attest, but my attention has definitely been divided.  To my surprise and delight, while I was looking the other way, I unexpectedly reached three milestones.  First, my website has a ticker that counts every time someone views a page.  Last week, that ticker rolled past the 15,000 views mark.  While this doesn’t constitute going viral, it is certainly a big deal to me.  I haven’t done any advertising, so new readers arrive most commonly as a result of a word-of-mouth recommendation, and less frequently, as a result of an online search.  To reach this many views this way is very affirming to me.  I know that the ticker doesn’t discriminate, and the 15,000 could be achieved by one overly obsessed person looking at my site 15,000 times, but I am pretty certain that it didn’t happen that way.



I did a psychic reading a few weeks ago that has troubled me ever since.  I was doing the reading for the parents of a young woman who died of an accidental overdose.  The reading seemed to be the mother’s idea, with the father casting himself in the role of skeptic and critic.  In my work as a psychic medium, I encounter a lot of skepticism.  I consider this healthy and actually encourage it, as I understand that what I do is a bit outside the mainstream.

What troubles me about the reading that I did for that couple was this: the father was so convinced that I was a fraud that he couldn’t hear anything that I said as anything but a lie.  The spirit of the young woman answered every question her mother asked, but I had the strong feeling that her father’s prejudices against ME kept him from asking the questions he really wanted and needed answered.



I did a psychic reading recently for the wife of a man named Roger.  Roger’s life was rich, interesting, and punctuated by this: in the late 1960’s, he was drafted into the Army and sent to the front lines in Vietnam.  With a college degree and a good head on his shoulders, Roger was quickly put in charge of his platoon.  He did not want to be there, did not believe war solved anything, and did not feel that those in charge of orchestrating the bloody mess understood the situation on the ground.  His tour of duty was a mixed bag: he made life better for those around him by protecting the weaker guys in his platoon without singling them out or shaming them, and he did things like create an indoor gym and an outdoor obstacle course as a place for “the guys” to blow off steam.  But the positives were far outweighed by the negatives:  a variety of ill-conceived missions with heavy casualties, and a lot of days and nights spent wondering what on Earth he was doing there.



You all about broke my gmail account with your phenomenal response to my offer of FREE READINGS (read “Heaven Sent” and “Heaven Sent, Part Two” if you have no idea what I am talking about), which is incredible!  And for which I am eternally grateful.  As I hoped, I am learning a lot from all these new readings with ascended spirits.  So much, in fact, that I hardly know where to begin to write about it.

I suppose that right into the middle is as good a place as any.  And the learning there concerns Summoning.



In my last blog post (see “Heaven Sent”), I wrote about building my new-found skills for communicating with ascended spirits.  One of the things I intended to include in that column was a fuller description of what a person could and should expect from a reading with the ascended spirit of a loved one.  I quickly realized, however, that I’ve never been on the other side of this equation, never been the person having a reading done for me, and I lacked the proper experience to write much about it.  Certainly, people have said things to me, so I have a sense of what it is like, but I wanted to provide a fuller description.

To that end, I contacted Beth Redman, a woman who is both friend and client, and for whom I have done both types of readings — with the un-ascended spirits of several of her relatives over the years, and more recently, with the ascended spirit of her father.  I asked her a few general questions about how she would describe the difference between the two types of readings, and about what she thought people could expect from a conversation with the ascended spirit of a loved one.  Her replies were on point, and she has given permission for me to share them with you here.



photo by Roy Shapley

Back in September, I wrote about my explorations at the outer edges of my psychic abilities (read “The Borderlands”).  These explorations led to the discovery that what I believed to be the limits of my abilities were only a threshold.  Beyond this threshold, I discovered that not only can I communicate with the un-ascended, Earth-bound spirits of the dead (as I have known for a long time), but can also communicate with ascended spirits (which was news to me).  Stunned and intrigued by this discovery, I have been practicing.

My practice sessions began with trying to summon and communicate with the ascended spirits of people loved and missed by me, then moved to spirits known to me who were loved and missed by close friends and family, and then on to spirits not known to me at all.  My practice sessions began outdoors, out in the thin-veiled borderlands that I discovered on my property, and then moved indoors, into the room where I do readings.



body builderMy resident house-ghost, Joe, re-appeared in my back hallway a few days ago, after being gone again.   Backstory: Joe came to my house for the first time several months ago, and he and I struck a deal whereby he would bring Earth-bound spirits to me, and I would use my psychic abilities to help those spirits ascend (read “My Ghost Joe”).  The first group he brought included 17 troubled souls, which took me several days to sort out and help ascend (read “My Ghost Joe and the Impatient Horde”).  The second group was rougher, with more unfinished business and chips on shoulders, and included eight souls (read “He’s BAAACK!”).  With this group being much more difficult to help than the last, it should not have surprised me that the third group Joe brought to me was four suicides (read “The Suicides”).  And now Joe is back.  And who has he brought this time?  The man who killed him.



the-stanley-hotelMy eldest son had the brilliant idea to head out to a haunted hotel for Halloween weekend, and asked me to check pictures of the place he was considering.  My psychic abilities enable me to tell from a picture what is going on with the spirits inside a place, and I happily obliged.  This gave me the thought that others of you might be free for a spur-of-the-moment overnight jaunt, and be looking for a good Halloween scare.  So, I engaged my spidey-senses to provide you a public service.  I took a look at pictures of hundreds of so-called haunted hotels, motels, and bed-and-breakfasts from all 50 states (phew!), to see what was what and to find the best of the best.