“Are Psychics real and how do I know if a psychic is real?”
This was a question asked on one of those websites where a person could ask any question and presumably, someone who knew the answer would expound.
There was an immediate answer. “I have a number I always use,” said the self-proclaimed expert. “It has six numbers in it, and not one psychic has ever gotten it right. And they never will either!”. This kind of exchange illustrates why, when someone asks me what I do, the last thing I want to admit is that I work as a psychic. I never know when I’ll get a remark like that one. And if you are looking for lottery numbers, you won’t get them from me, either.
The types of psychic ability are as varied as the people who have them, which has much to do with why psychic ability is so little understood. There is no specific skill that everyone learns the same way. Some psychics are extremely visual: they describe specific physical details about an absent person; they might see their grandfather in front of them as he lay dying a thousand miles away.
Others may be auditory; some have prophetic dreams, still others “channel” spirits (not my cup of tea but a popular favorite back when Shirley McClaine got them into vogue); a precious few are
good at predictions; some are more like shamanistic healers. Some psychics use cards to focus their attention; others like to hold something the client wears, a watch or a ring. The old image of a psychic looking into a crystal ball stems from having to focus on something. I myself like to have questions to focus on.
My own style of psychic ability is not well-known. My ability is sensate, which is to say, everything for me revolves around feelings: how the situation feels, how the person feels from the inside: whether someone feels trustworthy, or calm, or anxious, or deceptive; how an absent person, for example, feels about my client and why. After I look at all that, then I look at what my client can do about it. I rarely see visual images. Most of my information comes in the form of how it feels to me. There are times when the interior motives of someone else are so striking that I am at a loss to understand why no one else notices what feels so glaringly obvious to me.
The step beyond that is to problem-solve: how can this situation be resolved? What are the blind spots that my client has and how can they get past them? Where is the situation headed and what to do about it?
This style of reading comes with drawbacks. Boundaries become essential: I often have to discern whether what I’m feeling is my own feeling or someone else’s. I’ve been doing this most of my adult life, having to parse what’s going on when I feel something and carefully considering whether I’m picking up someone else’s emotions or simply having my own.
It is an odd and sometimes crazy-making ability. It works. But it sure doesn’t give me lottery numbers.