The Yellow Roses and the Purple Horse
“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition…”
So goes the introduction to the original Twilight Zone. We’ve all heard of that show, and as I grew up and loved the spooky and the kooky, I gobbled up as much of it as I could.
Which wasn’t much. I remember the remake in the Eighties, but growing up in rural northern New England, we only had one channel: WMTW Channel 8, piped from Portland, Maine to the top of Mount Washington, where it was broadcast out to the surrounding area and into my living room. This was an ABC station, and I was unable to grow up with CBS or NBC, jealous of the kids who lived in town, where cable and satellite were more accessible.
I’ve caught up on many episodes as an adult, though I haven’t gone through nearly all of them. I still love the kooky and the spooky, but with all that’s happened to me over the past several years, I have a different opinion of what popular culture deems “spooky.”
This changed most especially when the Twilight Zone itself pulled into my head. I hesitate to call it a “spiritual awakening,” yet there was a time when I had no spiritual beliefs and certainly no evidence that spirit interacts with us all.
Then, that all changed.
Now, I call myself a professional psychic medium. My mind has grown to be that in-between place we know as the Twilight Zone, between the physical and the non-physical. When we hear the terms “psychic” or “medium,” the unsaid part of that is the evidential part of it, as in being able to provide evidence that Spirit is communicating with me. I also hesitate to call it a process of “trial and error,” as any errors I’ve made along the way have only been learning opportunities. It’s absolutely taken a lot of trial and learning.
And a whole lot of faith.
Sitting with people, both one-on-one and in a group session requires a great deal of faith, both in my ability to perceive Spirit and the faith that Spirit will always communicate through me. Having started this path in 2017, it’s been a long journey of self-discovery and discovery of how Spirit interacts with us all.
It’s been a long road of providing evidence.
That’s why I offer group readings in public settings. While many people come, hoping to hear messages from their loved ones, the main goal of each group reading is to provide evidence to a crowd of people that we never truly die, and that Love is always the preeminent guiding principle of Spirit. After hundreds of group readings and thousands of one-on-one sessions, it always comes back to Love. I don’t expect people to take my word for it, though.
I have to provide evidence.
On January 25th, I was preparing for a live group reading at the Tillotson Center in Colebrook, New Hampshire. While I have many different ways to prepare for my group readings, this afternoon I was lucky enough to receive some Reiki from my husband, Isaac. There are certain foods I should avoid, a certain amount of water I have to get in, and a certain amount of time in Nature that helps my connection, yet there’s nothing else like energetic healing he can provide.
Seriously, find yourself a competent energy healer, no matter your walk of life. Reiki practitioners and energy healers are like massage therapists — there are many of them in the world, yet some are better than others. Reiki is like mediumship: you’ll know it when you see and feel it.
As I lay on Isaac’s reiki table, I suddenly received the image of flowers being handed to me, specifically yellow roses.
For whatever reason, I knew then that I had to get yellow roses before the group reading. I couldn’t tell you why, yet the message was so strong and clear that I couldn’t help but believe in it. On our way to Colebrook, we stopped at the flower shop in Lancaster, across the Connecticut River from where we live and on our way north to Colebrook. I knew the yellow roses would become necessary throughout the evening; I didn't know how, but I just trusted. When we arrived at the Tillotson Center, I placed them on the stage before my event.
About halfway through the event, as I read the seventh or eighth person in the crowd, I was led to a woman named Rayma. After introducing her spirits and passing their messages to her, I received the message that the flowers were for her. There were about seventy people in the crowd, and I took the risk and gave them to her, knowing that there was a chance they meant nothing to her.
Rayma shared with me that she had two women in her life, one a grandmother and one very much like one, to whom she gave yellow roses for Christmas one year. The woman who was a surrogate grandmother passed away two weeks later, and her grandmother later on. She had an incredible love for both of them, and as Rayma shared this with me and the crowd, we were all collectively blown away by the specific evidence this message provided. I have done this for a while, yet I’m so grateful and consistently blown away by the love and intelligence that Spirit shares with us.
Yellow, not red. Roses, not carnations or lilies. How specific a message that was, and how much it meant to both Rayma and everyone else in the crowd. What an incredible piece of evidence.
I was recently in upstate New York, preparing for another group reading. Colebrook was close enough to my house that I didn’t require a hotel, yet my husband and I needed a hotel for this trip. Because of this, my day didn’t look like the one on January 25th, when I was getting ready for the Tillotson Center and receiving reiki. Living on the road, as adventurous as it can be, takes a toll on us, and this was a trip just like that. Life on the road requires us to respond in different ways, including running errands and picking up items we need for that nomadic life.
This includes water. I tried to bring plenty of water from home, but I hadn’t correctly estimated the amount I needed, so we ended up at Walmart for a jug of water and some other items. I wasn’t on the reiki table this time, just standing in the middle of that busy supercenter when a message hit me.
I needed a purple horse.
This was just like the yellow roses. I just knew I had to have it. At first, I thought it was a My Little Pony, so I went to the toy department at Walmart. When I couldn't find anything like that in Walmart, I went to Target. There, I couldn't find any My Little Ponies, but I was able to find a purple stuffed unicorn. That would have to do.
There was a sense of urgency behind this particular message, though. It was more than just a “bring this to the event, you’ll know where they should go when it’s time.” I asked Spirit in the way that I do where that message came from and who it was for. Sadly, a daughter was looking for her mom, who would attend the event that night.
After my introduction, I told the crowd who was coming through. As much as I try to keep my events upbeat and spirited, the evening would start on a heavy but much-needed note. The pressure to pass this message along was so intense that I had to take the chance that I would fail. This was a smaller crowd, so the chance that 1) there was a mom there who lost her daughter and 2) there was some sort of purple horse connection was so slight.
But I had to take the leap of faith.
When I asked the crowd who had lost a daughter, a meek woman in the front row held her hand up. I immediately turned, grabbed the stuffed unicorn, and gave it to her, telling her it was from her daughter. I asked her what the significance of the purple horse was.
This woman was there with her mother. The younger woman told me she lost her daughter in a car accident when she was in her last trimester. She was overcome with emotion and couldn't share much more. Her mom took over and explained the significance of the purple horse.
Before she was born, the little girl's nursery was purple. About a year after the accident, the family strangely acquired a purple wooden horse that the other grandchildren loved. It became a memorial for the family and a symbol of hope. The little girl's mom chimed in after her mother and told me that, strangely, just the day before, she found a pair of socks she’d kept for her daughter, the only item she held onto.
The message for this mom from her daughter was clear: she was always with her mother, always there, always loving and watching over her. This baby girl's mother also had another profound, touching message.
Her baby knew her mom was blaming herself for what happened and had been ever since that terrible day. She blamed herself in a way that she would never want other human beings to blame themselves for, all while enduring the worst that a human could ever go through. I took the opportunity to remind her how important it is to care for ourselves, to be fair to ourselves, and not perpetuate our suffering unfairly. The nature of love dictates that our suffering is the suffering of those we love, as is our peace.
Later, this woman's mom, the grandmother of the baby tragically taken, sent me the photo of the purple horse in her home. She thanked me profusely as it seemed a breakthrough for her daughter's heart and mental health. She benefited so much from the evidence that spirit is with us always and that Love never dies.
I share these stories for multiple reasons.
The first has to do with evidential mediumship. If you’re reading this, you’re a spiritual person and may want to reach out to a psychic or medium. If you do, please remember the often unsaid word “evidential” and that anyone you sit with will be able to provide you with evidence that Spirit is coming through them. I’ve met many people who have fallen victim to frauds who couldn’t do that, who were just making things up out of thin air, often telling someone they’re an “Empath” or were entwined with a “Twin Flame.” Sadly, many people give up their autonomy to these people, suffering from what they’ve been told and, even more unfortunate, basing decisions in their lives on what someone simply made up.
This is why I’m particularly leery of past-life readings, which are different than a past-life regression conducted by a professionally trained hypnosis therapist. Most often, you’ll end up sitting in front of someone who is just a good storyteller. Some people want to believe so badly that they’ll believe anything. That’s why I welcome and respect a healthy sense of skepticism.
Second, that Spirit carries and never dies. That Love never dies. With the yellow roses and the purple horse, those who were gathered together on those days could witness how Spirit loves eternally and how our loved ones in Spirit are with us forever. We may lose our earthly vessels, which we call a body, but we will never be lost or destroyed.
Finally, Spirit communicates with us all in various ways. We are emotional and intellectual beings, and I believe the language of Spirit is primarily Love and feelings. Anyone who considers themselves intuitive does so because they didn’t listen to their intuition at one point in time. They got to the other side of a situation or a person and wished they had listened to themselves. Spirit, I believe, communicates to us with emotions and symbols, and it takes about half a second to a second before the intellectual side of ourselves kicks in and translates what we’re receiving in our voice.
Trust in what you’re receiving, especially from a place of Love. If you randomly think of a loved one, reach out. Check on them, see how they’re doing, and see if they need a friend or a shoulder to lean on. I’ve had a lot of practice learning to trust what I receive and to be able to present it as a piece of evidence from a tangible place. I encourage you to listen to your gut instinct and to pay attention to the messages and sensations that come out of nowhere for no reason. Those messages can be subtle, yet Spirit always has our best interest at heart.
Recently, I was driving on a long stretch of a familiar road, which I’ve driven hundreds of times in my life. On this long straightaway, I randomly looked in my rearview and saw a large white van in the distance behind me. Randomly, I thought, “Wow, that looks like a cop.”
But it didn’t.
Why would I think that at that moment? That large white van looked nothing like a cop, and as I was pondering that, I thought, “Oh shoot! A cop!” As I was speeding a little bit, I slowed down, and as I coasted around the corner, a cruiser was sitting there on the side of the road, looking for people speeding.
Spirit had my back, as it does for all of us.
We just have to listen.