the Medium


I expected some sort of new-age woman with long thick red hair and heavy make-up, though I knew I was forming some sort of biased opinion in my mind based on me personal perceptions of psychics. Wait, she didn’t call herself a psychic anyway, she called herself a medium.

Curious, I took a few moments to search what the difference between the two was, and I found an apt description by Rebecca Rosen online: “Psychics tune into the energy of people or objects by feeling or sensing elements of their past, present and future. Simply put, psychics rely on their basic sense of intuition and psychic ability to gather information for the person being read. Mediums take it a step further. A medium uses his or her psychic or intuitive abilities to see the past, present and future events of a person by tuning into the spirit energy surrounding that person. This means mediums rely on the presence of non-physical energy outside of themselves for the information relevant to the person being read.”

I do believe in the human capacity to tune into others. I consider myself an empath; I can sense the emotions of others, and if I’m not careful I can get caught up in the emotions. It takes me mental and emotional effort to keep myself free and clear, and it tremendously aids my work as a therapist. I definitely believe there are mediums and psychics in the world, people who are subject to the emotions and impressions of the energies and consciousnesses of those who have passed on.

When I met the medium, she was nothing like I expected. She was a normal looking person, a beautiful women with long hair, fit and athletic, who talked about her children and her journey. She had kind eyes and an intuitive nature about her, and I immediately felt at ease, once I realized she was not seeking money or recognition or endorsement. She simply had a message to share.

The medium explained to me that she had first discovered her talents a few years before, when she realized she was sensitive to the energies of those close to her who had passed, and sometimes to the energies of deceased loved ones of friends or acquaintances. She would sometimes get direct messages for a loved one, or a gentle impression to do something (like making caramels for a neighbor, a gesture from a deceased grandmother through the medium), and on occasion could have direct conversations. She explained to me that this was the first time she had ever had a direct conversation with someone who she didn’t know.

My best friend Kurt died last April in a small car accident that caused internal bleeding. He shouldn’t have died, but he did, and it was a huge shock. His fiancée had been with him at the time. The medium explained that she had been playing with her children in a park near the site of the accident when she came down with a tremendous headache. She returned to the park a few days later and got the same headache, and she realized someone was trying to communicate with her. After doing a bit of research, she realized it was Kurt.

The medium presented me with several pages of notes she had taken from her conversations with Kurt, a strange stream of consciousness from him to her. He was at peace, he was confused about how abruptly things had happened, he wanted to be sure his fiancée was okay. Most of the notes were about how happy he had been, how he had created a life for himself and how he wanted his fiancée to go on with his life.

I was very moved as she spoke, talking about how powerful Kurt is, how much influence he has. I had tears rolling down my cheeks as she told me things like, “He is such a beautiful spirit. Even thru that confusion/that fuzz, shining right thru it there is joy, love (SO MUCH LOVE) and light (SO MUCH LIGHT) from his being. He is light.”

She gripped my hand across the table as she told me Kurt’s message for me. “You were his rock, his hero, his adventure, his light, his ‘twin’, and he is so thankful for what you both shared and all you taught him about strength and courage and finding your voice.”

My mind flashed with all of my adventures with Kurt, all of our texts and conversations, all of the coffee and drinks and movies, all of the laughter, all of the trips, all of the heart-sharing, all of the dreaming and scheming, all of the quiet moments, all of the assurance that he would always be there and he would always understand me. I muttered through my tears about how much he had meant to me, and how much he had changed me into someone better, and the medium smiled back and told me I had meant just as much to him.

She looked down briefly, and then back up, and met my eyes again, and she told me that something very big was right on the horizon for me, that all of my efforts were soon to pay off in a great success, and she told me that love was on the horizon with someone I hadn’t met yet, the kind of love Kurt had found with his fiancée.

I dried my tears and we talked a bit about life and journeys and goals and dreams, and then the medium gave me a big hug and said that we were supposed to have met. With a promise to stay in touch, we said farewell and she drove away.

It took me a few weeks to make sense of this whole experience, to realize the beauty of the kind of person who would deliver a message like that at no personal gain, but simply because she felt compelled to. I have wondered about Kurt, knowing he is at peace and that he continues to watch out for me sometimes, but mostly that he is watching out for his sons and his fiancée, and that he is of course having a brand new set of adventures, because he can do nothing left than live life at its fullest, in whatever form life takes.

Kurt Peterson, my friend, I miss you every day, and I remember you always. Thank you, thank you, again, for the influence you have had on my life. I’m living strong, and in a way that I know you would be proud of me. Rest well, sir, and journey on.

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