The Psychic

If you go waaaaaaay back to the posts from my blog's infancy, you'll find this one, in which I do my best to describe some sensitivities I have that fall into the category our society labels as "supernatural". I don't like the associations that come along with the words supernatural, psychic, premonition, etc. but those are the words I have to work with, so I use them.

I don't trust the theatrics associated with many professional psychics. I'd say at least half of them are either full-on fakes, or that they aren't able to be consistent, so they fake it enough that eventually they can't tell the difference between their intuition and their imagination.

Four years ago, I was struggling to understand the invisible forces that continually impacted my life. I had already figured out that most so-called experts in the field couldn't help me. But I was desperate to learn how to protect myself. So when I kept hearing about this one guy, let's call him Hans, who was THE BEST PSYCHIC EVER! according to everyone who'd ever been to see him, I figured I'd give him a chance.

I called and made an appointment. Here was a shock: his fee for a one-hour session was $200. This had better be worth it.

His home "office" was totally creepy, like a funeral home. Dark wood, paintings on black velvet, religious icons. He ushered me in to his consultation room.

Hans's deal was that he supposedly channeled a higher entity who gave him access to privileged information. I neither believed nor disbelieved in this phenomenon. I went in with an open mind.

Hans settled himself into a large, leather recliner, asked me if I was ready, and then closed his eyes. He began to twitch and grunt. After a few moments, his entire body spasmed. Then he settled down again, and began to talk with a different accent than before. He kept his eyes shut throughout the session.

I was immediately suspicious, because throughout his dramatic, physical show of embodying "the entity", I felt nothing. If something that powerful had really happened less than ten feet from me, I would expect to feel it. I have taken Reiki lessons from two different teachers, and I had trouble being in the same room with each of them because their energy fields were so powerful. With the Reiki masters, I felt dizzy and overwhelmed. With Hans? Zilch, nada, zip.

He proceeded to answer my prepared questions with the most mundane possible advice, things anyone could have told me. Thinking of starting a psychology practice? I should take a business course at the University of Toronto Continuing Studies Department. Like I really needed a psychic to tell me that!

He also answered some other questions, ones that were more "out there", with answers that anyone would want to hear, for their $200. I had been a Buddhist monk in a previous life. I had been a master, and my mother had been my student. Sure. Who wouldn't want to hear that? It's always nice to have one's ego stroked. But I didn't buy it.

Finally my hour was up. Hans went through his spasm routine again, and then showed me out.

It was a lovely, warm afternoon. Hans's home was just a few blocks away from Toronto's Beaches, at the shore of Lake Ontario. To clear my head, I walked south until I got to the water, and then made my way along the boardwalk. The longer I walked, the angrier I got.

He was a fraud, of that much I was sure. He had just charged me $200 for a personal improvised theatre skit that was neither original nor entertaining. When I thought back to the dozens of recommendations I had received, I realized that they had all come from women. Hans was extraordinarily attractive, and suave. I strongly suspected that this was a big contributor to his success.

At least I learned one thing from that session, and in hindsight, maybe it was worth the $200 after all: I don't need to hire psychics. I'm my own psychic. I know myself best, my instincts are trustworthy, and my predictions of the future have been at least as accurate as anyone else I could pay to do the job for me. I don't need an appointment, a velvet tablecloth, or a crystal ball. I just need to pay attention.

I believe that unusual events in our lives occur to move us forward in some way, through personal growth and learning. I have since spoken again to other women who consulted with Hans, and they felt that he helped them a great deal. If that was the role he was meant to play in their lives, then I'm glad that they benefitted. He doesn't need to be a channeler to give good business advice, or encouragement to people who need it. And if that's the way his clients prefer to receive their guidance, who am I to judge them?

But it's not for me. When I got home that day, I took the tape of my session and slam-dunked it down the trash chute. That felt great. And I haven't consulted any psychic but myself since that day.