Week 18: Séance
I didn't know what a séance is until last night, when I announced to my mother I was going to a one, and she replied, 'You mean for dead people?' Although I didn't know what it was, I signed up for it because it was advertised as 'séance with a medium on the beach' (the beach), the medium had good reviews, and I felt the impulse to go.
I suppose the word 'medium' should have given it away. I was thinking of a medium in the general sense, like an intuitive person, so the clicking didn't happen, which is not an anomaly in this mind of mine. Séance is a French word that means 'session,' but its implication is...related to dead people. Séance means communicating with those who have passed.
Now, I'm standing on a street corner on a blustering Sunday morning in Santa Monica, the beach just one block over. I've just joined five women, including the host, and we wait for four more people to cap our group of ten. Two come and two don't. There's only one man, and he looks my age. Emily, the host, also looks my age.
We walk over to the beach after the group has reached completion, and spread out a blue blanket big enough for us all. We're halfway between the waves and the boardwalk, full of bikers, runners, and walkers.
It's Mother's Day. We sit down in a circle and Emily offers us her history in this line of work. She has been developing her intuitive skills for ten years (she's actually five years older than me), and she is particularly gifted in communicating with the passed, although she can also tap into intuition and the higher self.
She then jumps right into it, starting with the woman on her left. We only have an hour, and there's eight of us. I'm on Emily's right, and we go around in a circle, so I will be last.
Person after person, she's dead on (#pun). I've always believed there is more to us than this body, that when the body perishes the person's existence does not cease, so I'm not skeptical of the possibility to communicate beyond the gross physical realm. What is uncanny is that she doesn't have to "tap in," she moves from person to person casually, and it seems like the easiest thing to connect to these dead people that are coming through to talk to their loved ones.
It's not that she knows everything about them. She describes what she can, what they're showing her, and asks the alive person clarifying questions.
Most of the others are in tears in the first few seconds, because Emily describes details about the very people they came for. One girl's grandmother appears and says she does want her granddaughter to change her bed sheets; the girl had had a conversation with her fiancé a few hours prior on the same subject. A young man who recently passed from 'his insides not feeling well' comes through to the girl sitting next to me, who confirms her boyfriend died in February from meningitis. The details, however, do not cause as much impact as the individual message each person delivers via Emily to his or her enfleshed friend.
I think not having someone obvious who has passed makes me more nervous. Most people I know are around, except for three grandparents I was never close to. I have no idea what will happen come my turn.
My turn comes. I'm surprised when 'a woman close my mother' shows up. 'She has a cold energy,' Emily says. That would be my grandmother, and she has a message for my mom that brings tears to my eyes, because it's so specific and so uncharacteristically heartfelt. It's Mother's Day, too. She says she's sorry that she was not there for my mom to lean on, and she wishes she could have been more emotionally present. That's it, short and to the point (she's German), but this time from the heart.
Emily asks me if there is anyone else I had in mind, because no one is really coming through besides grandma. No, I say, I have come just out of curiosity, and as everyone took their turns I wanted to see if anyone would show up for me.
But I might as well tap into her other intuitive abilities. So I ask her about my life purpose. I have had a sense (that I generally ignore) for as far back as I can remember that the heart of my purpose in this life centers around healing work. I'm interested if she'll confirm it.
She does. Our exchange is short, less than five minutes, and then we are standing up, folding the blanket, and saying goodbye. I walk towards the ocean, to let my experience integrate, while the others walk back to the roadside.