Sunday Soul Bite

As I walk along my journey more and more, something that has made its self clear is that there is finite difference between repeating something and BEING something. Ego is repetitively spoken about in the Spiritual community. Having an ego, not having an ego, being egotistical and not. In fact, it is ENSURED that if you are in a spiritual gathering the word "ego" will be uttered once at the very least. As an observer of many of these conversations (and also a participant in many) I have found an irony in the lack of understanding that many have of what this means. You see if you are merely repeating what you've been told about the the ego without understanding the meaning of the word and applying the phrase "lack of ego" to your own work, your own development and yes...your very own life...you are merely a child repeating their alphabet with no real understanding of the structure it can take to express the language. I propose that we stop TALKING so much about the ego and start APPLYING the type of ego we would like to possess in all facets of our life.

Have confidence, not ego.
Be humble, not boastful.
Have integrity, not greed.
Live graciously, lack entitlement.
Be a gift, not a martyr.

How Did You Know??

One of the most frequent questions I am asked is “How did you know you were a Medium?” This question is an important one, from the first time client to the developing student to the colleague getting ready to take the platform next to me. We ALL want to know how Mediums went from the “normal” into the “metaphysical”. What was that step for them? Were they always psychic? Were they always able to speak to the Spirit World? How and when did they know? I think more importantly, the biggest question that is being sought out is, “Are you like me?”.

I grew up in Bethany, Oklahoma, a suburb of Oklahoma City. It wasn’t until I reached high-school that I started noticing that perhaps my personal experiences might be different then that  of my peers. After the death of a classmate’s older sister (who did not attend our high school) I had a dream that, upon hide sight, I would consider to be a defining moment of realization. 

I dreamt that I was standing in the back of the church where her funeral was held. When I looked to my left, she stood there, in beautiful health and vibrancy. Before the dream ended she asked me to tell her family that she was “pain free and okay.” I woke up not knowing how to handle this dream and although I had a hard time shaking it, I did my best to try and forget it. 

It was a year or more before anything else happened. Then, my senior year of high school, our little community was devastated when a teacher passed away due to pancreatic cancer. 

Shortly after his memorial service, I began dreaming of him. Every time I did, the dream was oddly similar to the last. We would be in some sort of outside environment, we would chat, and then at the end of the dream he would request, “Brandie, please tell my wife and daughter that I am okay. That I am watching over them. I haven’t left them.” I never did this. I didn’t know how to. I was certain that others would think I was crazy or making it up. It also challenged my religious beliefs at the time.  Despite having very odd occurrences in which I would run into his wife (which I now know were most likely orchestrated by the Other Side) I never said a single word about the dreams. 

It wasn’t until the age of 19, when I lost a family friend that I hadn’t seen in nearly five years that the paradigm began to shift for me. Two weeks after my friend’s funeral, he showed up in a dream. We were sitting in a pew in the church that we grew up in. He was smiling and we were speaking about memories we shared. The feeling was beautiful, pure and full of love. At the end of the dream he asked, “Brandie, tell my Mom and Dad I’m okay. And will you tell them I want my bracelet?” He then described a bracelet to me and with that I woke up. After some tears, I decided I needed to pick up the phone and call his mother. I was certain it wouldn’t be well received, that I would be judged and feel humiliated. After I explained the dream, she simply thanked me and we hung up. I can still remember what that dread felt like, “Does she think I’m making it up? Does she think I’m crazy? Why did I do that?!?” 

The next day, she called me back. She thanked me for telling her the dream. She explained to me that she had told my friend’s Dad about the phone call, about the dream and about the bracelet. She said that my friends Dad had “walked into the bedroom and came back into the living room with a sack of what Seth wore the night that he died. In that sack was the bracelet, which you described in detail to me. Thank you Brandie, we know our boy has made it to Heaven.” 

When I hung up the phone I was in shock. It was the moments that followed that gifted me with the realization that what I was experiencing had the potential to help others, it had the potential to heal. I no longer needed to find ways to try and shut it off and stop it. I needed to know how to control it and how to share it.

From there my journey began. It hasn’t been a smooth sailing one but no spiritual journey is. I feel blessed that this is a part of ME.