Sitting in a firm chair, I face an entire bank of exquisitely crafted, wooden-framed windows. The sun is bright and beautiful as it streams into this new healer’s semi-circular space. Even though there are only two of us in the room, the space feels full—as though the angels are nigh. There is a peace and stillness pervading everything. I now understand why this healer seemed so far and away when we spoke on the phone.
She is carrying on not one, but two conversations at a time. As we speak about who I am, where I am going and why I am present, the council of angels seems to be weighing in, participating in her series of questions, as well as her responses. I open our conversation thus:
“A lot of my life seems to be tied up in understanding how to deal with my intuition. Before I worked with the healer whom Doctor Helen first recommended, I only had infrequent ‘prophetic’ dreams and occasional occurrences of ‘just knowing’ certain things about some people. In the past, I realized that often outed people socially—inadvertently, not realizing that I was intuitive. Now, with my third-eye open, it feels like I am getting way too much information. Let me give you an example.
“I ride the university-hospital bus downtown. The other day, a family was riding the bus from the far parking lot. Their brother is in the hospital for surgery to remove a brain tumor. I could not help but overhear. And, all of a sudden, I am being told, ‘He needs to stop using his cellphone. He should not be eating meat for at least six to eight months. He is not getting enough fresh vegetables. Also, his schedule is too busy. If he wants to heal, he needs to make some significant lifestyle changes to maintain his physical frame.’
“Why am I getting this information? I should not be getting other people’s stuff. And, what good is this level of information, if I do not pass it along? I feel there is a certain degree of moral responsibility that comes with receiving all of this private, medical information belonging to other people.”
“Did you talk to the family on the bus? Did you give them this information?” Elizabeth asks pointedly.
“No. What would I have said? ‘Hi, I’m an intuitive, and I could not help but overhear your conversation. This information about your brother just came through, and I thought you should have it.’ I am barely among the living myself. I really don’t need any bad vibes from strangers because ‘the crazy lady on the bus’ is interrupting their already stressful lives.”
“Some people are grateful for information from a pure channel,” Elizabeth notes in a calm, even tone.
“I am not sure that I am up to it—not at this point anyway,” I respond.