I went to my friend’s psychic workshop a few weeks ago. She definitely has a powerful gift, although we disagree on what that exactly that gift is. I want to support her desire to use her talents to help people, like I do for those who play piano in church. And I was curious.
It was really fun. My friend, Psychic, is really hilarious. She had us all laughing within the first few minutes and we kept laughing almost the entire time.
One of the exercises we did was called ‘psychometry’. Basically, we all held an object that had once belonged to someone who died. We were supposed to hold it for 5 minutes and then report what we got.
The ring I grabbed was old fashioned. From my work at the museum, I guessed it was from the early 20th century. It was feminine and I thought it more likely something like that would be passed on from a grandmother than an aunt. The ring was fragile but in good condition. The old timey ring brought to mind a Gibson girl sketch- notorious for the dark haired models.
I was the first to go, and all those things: grandmother, dark hair, fragile but strong. And yes, all those things were vague enough to be true. Except for the dark hair- that I was more likely to get wrong since most of the people in the room had light hair. Still, 50-50 chance.
Another exercise was to sit across from people and do a verbal diarrhea of what we were thinking. It seemed like an improv exercise. We weren’t to respond to the other person or even to look at them so we couldn’t do a cold reading.
It felt like a prayer meeting. People pray outloud for the benefit of the person being prayed for. An omniscient god surely wouldn’t need audible petitions. I started with random words popping in my head and then went on as if I were praying and wishing good things for the person in front of me. Like when praying, you acknowledge the problem so the person feels empathized with. Then you try and encourage them. At least, that was how I prayed. No sense in fostering a victim mentality and no compassion in belittling someone’s problems.
The people that I was doing this with seemed appreciative of my ‘reading’. Until the last person. Soon after I sat down in front of the last person, my throat began to feel really sore. The kind of sore you get when trying to hold back sobs. Ripping, tearing sobs. My throat felt full of cotton and exhausted from holding back and swallowing something. The person in front of me had a sore throat, but also felt like the main issue in their life was that they were silencing themselves instead of speaking out. But she had told me that before the class even started. Still, pretty neat.
It was all fun, except for learning how to see auras. We were to stare at someone for 30 seconds without blinking and then shift our eyes slightly. Sure enough, a light haze in the exact outline of who we had been staring at appeared. We were asked if we could see colours. Of course I could. I tried to explain that the purple and green I saw were completely predictable since the woman’s hair was blonde and her skin pinkish. I started talking about rods and cones. I stopped myself, realizing that this was rude.
Then my friend started getting messages from dead people. I knew she felt like she got messages from time to time but had never seen it in action. It wasn’t creepy at all, pretty funny actually. She started imitating someone’s grandmother, whom my friend had never met. Apparently it was a very accurate imitation. She didn’t say anything the granddaughter didn’t know, but did remind her of things she had forgotten.
Later Psychic got a message supposedly from my friend who has just died.
And my last few days have been wretched because of it.