How to prevent burning at the stake...
and other maladies of spirit.
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I used to drive all around the countryside to make $40 for an hour(ish) session. Had lots of time on my hands as business slowly grew — and since there was no How To Build Your Tarot Business manual, I did it the Raven way. A little wild, a little slipshod but with determination. I would not fail. I’d often been accused of jumping from job to job, town to town, relationship to relationship, as if there was a How To Life one-size-fits-all manual.
That book was never written for someone like me.
It was hundreds of in-person reads — as the Internet was still in diapers and social media lingered in the ethers, two years from birth. Face to face I met strangers, faced my insecurities and honed my craft.
With all of these so-called random meetups over the cards, it was inevitable that I’d find the sensitives.
Not all clients are sensitive. Not all clients are intuitive, especially during that era when I’d get more of the classic who/what/where/when questions from people who didn’t want to take responsibility for their lives. The blamers. The bitters. The curious. The skeptics.
They were enormously important for my growth — namely, that I didn’t have to continue reading them if I chose not to.
Oh, but the sensitives. The truly gifted. The ones that could have easily dazzled me with their natural abilities.
Yet somewhere along the way, that spark was taken from them — by a religious parent, a doubter or their own self hatred and fear.
There was one in particular. A young woman, a sprite really — who met me at a ramshackle farmhouse in god knows what hinterland. As we said hello and she made tea, I could already sense her power. These were the early days, as I said, so I was even more hyperaware of my surroundings.
Sidenote: reading in a home other than mine was an early blunder — but I had to learn somehow!
However, her hippie space felt safe and she was nice enough, so we chatted and settled into the session. She may have been a little high (another blunder) but I was so focused on giving a great session that the jangly feeling that rose in my gut, I naturally pushed aside. Intuition. Bah! I had work to do!
Right away over the cards, I realized she was one of the greats. Far beyond my abilities. I can only imagine the impact she could have had on Earth.
And yet, she’d turned from the path. She admitted as much as we continued. Something had happened in high school, a tragedy she saw and couldn’t prevent. It scarred and scared her enough that drink became her solace. Not the cards. Not her psychic abilities. Those became her enemies the moment she needed them most.
She wasn’t high. That jangly feeling — my forever protector — revealed her future. She’d be an alcoholic within a few years, if she didn’t stop — again, she said as much — and it would probably require a huge payment down the road.
That was nearly two decades ago. I have no idea what happened to her.
Do I think she found a way back to her gifts? I hope — but doubt it. I’m a realistic sort of person — and it takes enormous courage and that same dedication in building a business to face our pain and transform it.
Most people will not, unless they are spiritually awakened. Even that has its drawbacks. Everything has a cost.
How do we prevent burning at the stake? We reveal. We tell the truth of our experience. We face the fear of every lifetime that exacted a cost from our gifts and say, I am not afraid. I am still here.
It’s acknowledging the gift from our ancestors to us — even if you didn’t know them, like me — and revealing it to our grand / children and the world. That gift will continue through the ancestral lineage but like any gift, wants to be appreciated. When it is thanked, it grows. When it is ignored or stuffed down, it disappears.
Secrets kill. Denial kills. Othering kills.
We might think, Oh, but we’re so modern. No one suffers like this anymore. Salem was 300 years ago!
It starts so young. The 4 year old with premonitions. The child with the past life memory. The daughter who speaks to spirits.
That is when the candle is either cherished or snuffed.
These children will arrive — but will they find an open family with welcoming parents, or a world where they feel weird and alone? When children are given space to trust their natural abilities, they are protected. They know who has their best interest at heart — and who bodes ill.
When it is crushed out of them, prayed away or laughed at, then abuse finds its way like a wolf, ready to devour.
It’s sharing with our grand / children that yes, Dad actually does have premonitions and has since he was 5 or Mom talk to spirits or grandma was a witch and you might be, too. I asked a client once whether they’d spoken about their psychic abilities to the adult daughter who shared the same intuition, which surprised them to hear.
They never thought to have that conversation — though the ancestral gift was strong and accepted in themselves. Perhaps they didn’t think it was important.
This is where our stories matter. It’s not the Internet and the big reveal of strangers, comforting as that can be. It’s one family member to another, acknowledging the inheritance.
When you reveal, it prevents suffering for those soon to be born. When you reveal, it releases those who still agonize in the flames.
I enjoy reading your articles. Very helpful and insightful. I must check out some of your books, as they look very interesting!