Maureen MorinI have pretty much always been a believer in mediums, psychics, mind readers, hypnotists, ghosts.  All of it.  I love the subject matter.  I love movies about the subject matter.  I love books about the subject matter.  I am a self-proclaimed sufferer of ADD, but if you have a good story on this subject matter, I will sit and listen intently to every single word.  More so than if I were listening to Gandhi.  I’m a freakoid over it.  Freak.Oid.  Oh, and just so you know.  I would totally try and want to listen to every word Gandhi said.  But I have the attention span of a goldfish.

I have always wanted to see a ghost.  Have an “encounter” of some sort.  From the time I was 10 doing seances at slumber parties.  Or trying to conjure up The Bell Witch in my bathroom mirror.    I used to cry in my bed at night after Elvis died.  Begging him to come pay me a visit.  Because, after all, I was his biggest fan ever.  Unfortunately, my experience never went much beyond a couple of failed attempts at the Ouija Board.

As for having an experience with a psychic, I got my palm read at a street festival in Salem once.  She told me I would be pregnant four times and have three children.  I think she may have been a little off.  But just a smidge.  I was pregnant.  Once.  And guess what?  I have one child.  I was never good at multiplication (1×1=1?), but I think I’m right.  I’m guessing she skipped one too many math classes.

Then I had a real, legit experience.  It was with this chick I met at a job I was temping at.  I clicked with her immediately.  After a couple of months, she revealed to me her God Given Talent.  That God Given Talent was that of medium/psychic.  I got all freaked out in a good heebie-jeebie kind of way.  I was super excited.  I had been wondering “who” was lurking about for years.  Because everyone has someone lurking about, don’t they?  I was hoping my new friend could help me figure it out.  There was something about her that I trusted.  She was most definitely not a dime store psychic, that was for sure.

She offered to come to my house for a “Reading Party” (for lack of a better description).  I burned up the phone lines inviting every person, place and thing who believed.  Did I go a little overboard?  Maybe.  Should I have toned it down a bit?  Not possible.  Unfortunately, “Tone, It and Down” are not words I use very often in my vocabulary.  My new friend handled it pretty well.  In spite of my overzealousness.

I will tell you that it was a success.  Almost everyone came away with something.  My mother’s life was changed.  Let’s just say she had a childhood that went a bit awry, therefore forcing her to carry a lot of baggage.  And I don’t mean of the Louis Vuitton persuasion.   She got a lot of questions answered and a heavy burden lifted.  It was an “Allelujah” kind of day for her.

As for me?  The “who” that was lurking about?  My grandmother.  In my bedroom.  There is nothing in this world that kills a mood faster than the thought of a dead grandmother standing in the corner of your boudoir.  Trust me on this one.  But, it turns out grams was there for my mom.  So, as much as I wanted her to be there for me, she wasn’t.  But that’s okay.  Really.  My sex life thanks her for that.  And so does my husband.  Because “I can’t, I have a headache” is much more effective than “I can’t, granny is watching.”  Especially when the hubs isn’t much of a believer.

I have since called on my new friend, who is now my old friend, on guidance, advice and well, just as a friend.  She has also seen me through the death of my father-in-law.  So, technically I had two legit experiences.  Oh, and she did a reading for me once, which was full of awesomeness.

So, I had to wait more than 40 years for my first real experience.  I had to touch a lot of game boards, attempt to lift one too many preteen friends and talk to dead rock stars to get there.  But it was totally worth it.  Now?  I’m just waiting to see a ghost.  I think.  I just hope if it happens, it’s AFTER I have emptied my bladder.  Because at the ripe middle age of 46, it seems I have a bit of a bladder problem.  But that is a subject for another time.

Bio: Mo blogs at  She is a mom to a teenage girl child and is a wife to an awesome man who absolutely adores her, even more than his motorcycle.    Mo stayed home for close to 15 years to raise a person and recently ventured out into the real working world called Retail.  She is middle-aged, abhors manual labor and relies on reading glasses a bit too much for her taste.  She enjoys writing and will make fun of herself until the cows come home.  After all, if she doesn’t laugh at herself, who will?  Well, everybody actually.  ” If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em” is her motto.  So far, it’s worked out pretty well.

Rachel Archelaus

Rachel Archelaus is an internationally known spiritual teacher, author & artist. She assists helpers & healers to create, clarify & launch their businesses while teaching them to develop their psychic super powers along the way. She is also the founder of the Intuitive Art Academy. Learn to have a two way conversation with your Higher Self so you can ditch confusion forever here:

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