Sage Readings

10/29/2026

10/25/2026

Beyond What My Eyes Could See: My Experiences With Remote Viewing and the Astral World

I’ve spoken a little about my imagination, my spiritual practices, and how they’ve developed throughout my life. Now I’d like to share another part of my experiences and how it all began to branch into remote viewing.

My earliest exposure to remote viewing came during childhood. My stepfather had books on the subject, experiences of his own, and an interest in several well-known remote viewers whose work he followed.

He was trying to understand remote viewing and what he believed were my psychic gifts. Unfortunately, that also meant using me to test and explore those abilities.

Because of this, I didn’t tell him everything.

There were things I kept to myself, partly because I didn’t want every experience examined or tested, but also because some things are incredibly difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t experience them.

And honestly, how do you teach remote viewing to someone who doesn’t feel it, see it, or experience it?

How do you explain a way of perceiving the world that has always felt natural to you?

The Different Layers of Sight

For me, sight has always included several layers.

There’s what is physically in front of me, but then there’s another layer where I experience what a person is feeling or thinking.

Another layer involves possibilities and the different branches of what could happen.

Sometimes there are what I understand as past-life flashes, impressions of health issues, someone’s traumas, or the most meaningful changes in their life.

It’s difficult to explain that kind of sight because, for most of my life, I thought everyone else experienced it too.

I genuinely didn’t realize that other people weren’t necessarily seeing, feeling, or experiencing the same things I was.

And that caused a lot of confusion, complications, and problems throughout my life.

It wasn’t until much later that I began to understand that not everyone sees or feels things at the depths that I do.

Of course, this also made it difficult to explain my experiences to others. What felt obvious or natural to me wasn’t always something another person could understand.

And this is where my strong imagination, my magickal practices, and my experiences with remote viewing began to overlap.

How It Began for Me

Throughout my childhood, I had been forcibly hypnotized many times. I had also experienced fasting that was actually starvation, meditation, and attempts at both mental and physical control.

Because I had been exposed to these things repeatedly, entering certain states of consciousness became familiar to me.

I could enter a state that felt like being in all places at once and feeling everything at once.

It’s difficult to describe because it wasn’t simply imagining one place or concentrating on one particular image.

There could be so much happening within my mind simultaneously.

This became closely tied to my imagination and the images that constantly appeared.

For a long time, I told myself:

It’s just my active imagination.

And that made it safe.

I could allow myself to experience what was happening without having to explain it, defend it, or share every detail with someone else.

But within those experiences, I could also see what I call my astral self.

A very different part of me, yet still an extension of me.

This part of myself could go places that my physical body couldn’t.

I used it to explore whatever appeared before me or whatever seemed to be waiting to be shown to me.

Sometimes I followed the imagery, and sometimes I simply allowed the experience to unfold.

As I grew older, I began connecting these experiences with the subjects I’d encountered through books, spiritual teachings, and my own exploration of consciousness.

Remote viewing was one of those subjects.

Remote Viewing and Ingo Swann

For anyone unfamiliar with remote viewing, it’s generally described as an attempt to perceive or describe distant or hidden locations without using the ordinary physical senses.

The subject became particularly well known through research conducted in the United States, including work associated with the government’s Stargate program.

One of the prominent people involved in remote-viewing research was Ingo Swann.

Swann was an American artist and author who participated in experiments at Stanford Research Institute during the 1970s, working with researchers Russell Targ and Harold Puthoff.

He contributed to the development of structured approaches to remote viewing and wrote about consciousness, perception, and his own unusual experiences.

One of his books, Pe*******on: The Question of Extraterrestrial and Human Telepathy, was published in 1998, during the period when remote viewing was becoming more widely discussed.

I think his work is an interesting example for anyone curious about the history of remote viewing and some of the people who explored it.

My own experiences, however, weren’t limited to what people formally describe as remote viewing.

They also involved what I understand as astral experiences, spiritual guidance, meditation, and the worlds that had developed within my imagination.

My Grandmothers, Guides, and Spiritual Beliefs

My grandmothers have always guided me.

Throughout my life, I believe they’ve led me toward answers that I never knew I would eventually discover were true.

I’ve also explored and accepted many different religious and spiritual perspectives.

Buddhism was a particularly important one for me, and its teachings became part of how I explored consciousness, the self, and the world around me.

I believe in reincarnation.

I believe my ancestors, guides, angels, and other spiritual connections have shown me what I needed to know at different points in my life.

And I accepted that I could be led inwardly by something beyond myself toward the places I needed to be.

When I entered what I understood as an astral state, I would often be in a deep, trance-like meditation.

During these experiences, I would have conversations with spirits, beings, or energies that showed me things, often without much speaking involved.

Sometimes the communication seemed to happen through images, feelings, or an understanding that didn’t require words.

It was another way of experiencing and exploring things beyond what I could physically see in front of me.

And over time, certain places became familiar to me.

The Walled Garden and Other Worlds

One place I often returned to was a secluded garden.

It was walled off and protected on every side, and it was somewhere I could meet my guides or special people within that space.

I returned to this garden many times over the years.

As my experiences continued, I began adding rooms and other places that opened into different worlds.

Some had Greek-like structures, with marble, open-concept homes, and gardens everywhere.

There were different spaces to explore, and some of these inner worlds continued developing over many years.

My imagination and my spiritual experiences were closely connected, and I allowed those places to grow and change as I explored them.

I want to make something very clear about these worlds and the beings I experienced within them.

None of these places, beings, or worlds were made with the intention of harming, hurting, destroying, or disrespecting anyone or anything, including myself or others.

They were always places to learn, explore, and connect with things beyond my current scope of understanding.

I’ve always been comfortable with not knowing everything.

Actually, I find it freeing.

I don’t need every experience to fit neatly into something I already understand, and I don’t need to have every answer before I’m willing to explore a different perspective.

That willingness to explore eventually changed the way I thought about myself and the world around me.

Letting Go of What We Think We Know

These experiences allowed me to let go of something I think many people hold very rigidly: their view of the world, themselves, and their role within it.

Everything seems to come with a label or a title.

We identify ourselves through our names, beliefs, roles, responsibilities, and the ways we’ve learned to understand the world.

And those anchors are useful when we’re physically going about our lives.

They help us navigate the world around us.

But when I’m exploring what I understand as my astral form, those same labels can feel very limiting.

I don’t want to be restricted to one interpretation of myself or the universe simply because it’s the one I’ve always known.

I want to be able to explore other perspectives without feeling that I have to defend every belief I’ve ever held.

Sometimes that means questioning what I thought I understood.

Sometimes it means accepting that another perspective might have something to teach me.

And sometimes it means being comfortable with not knowing.

I find that freedom incredibly valuable.

It allows me to explore without needing to fit everything into a particular title, belief, or expectation.

But there’s another part of these experiences that I believe is equally important.

Coming back to yourself.

Grounding and Caring for Yourself

Exploring what I understand as astral experiences can sometimes leave a person feeling spacey, ungrounded, or unsure, particularly if they’re unfamiliar with deeply immersive states.

I believe it’s important to approach these experiences with care, personal boundaries, and an understanding of your own limits.

Taking care of yourself afterward is important.

Grounding, being in nature, and being present in your body all matter.

So do eating, drinking plenty of water, resting, and getting physical exercise.

Because the point isn’t to forget your body.

It’s to gain a little more experience and perspective on this soul-and-body life we have.

To explore how the two complement one another.

I also believe there’s a difference between exploring your inner world and using it as a way to escape your everyday life.

For me, these experiences are about learning.
Learning about yourself, your mind, what you hide, and what you use to thrive.

It’s about exploring what comes forward, what it might mean to you, and where it leads your understanding.

That doesn’t mean pushing yourself beyond your limits or ignoring the needs of your physical body.

Quite the opposite.

Our physical lives still need our attention, and caring for ourselves is part of the experience.

Protection, Respect, and Intention

Within my own spiritual practice, I always visualize protective energy around myself.

I set the intention that I will only connect with beings or energies that will teach me safely, respectfully, and kindly.

Those intentions are important to me.

But does that mean every experience will leave your ego, titles, and expectations untouched?

No.

Sometimes learning challenges the very things we thought defined us.Sometimes it changes our understanding of ourselves.
And sometimes it asks us to look at something from an entirely different perspective.

I don’t believe growth always means holding tightly to everything we’ve ever accepted as true.
Sometimes it means being willing to examine those beliefs and decide whether they still belong to us.

And that’s something my experiences with imagination, meditation, remote viewing, and astral exploration have continued to teach me.

I’m comfortable not knowing everything.

I’m comfortable exploring different possibilities. And I’m comfortable allowing my understanding to change as I learn.

It’s about gaining more experience and perspective on the relationship between my soul, my body, and the world around me.

It’s about understanding myself through different perspectives rather than limiting myself to one.

The purpose is to define yourself in your own terms by finding all the terms.

My Astral Self:

My astral self appears as a tall, graceful, feminine figure with a strong presence, though her form isn’t entirely physical.

Her long hair flows into the surrounding darkness, and her eyes are outlined in luminous purple. Much of her body blends into the starry universe, as though she’s made from the same cosmic energy.

She’s recognizable as me, but different from my physical self—an extension of my consciousness, both familiar and otherworldly.

Her presence feels peaceful, mysterious, and fluid, as though she’s both within the universe and part of it.

10/25/2026

7:45 Message! 🪄🌿🦋🐉🧞‍♂️🍃✨

10/24/2026

🔮 A Little Weekend Magic at Sage Readings! 💜

Sometimes, three cards can offer a fresh perspective, a moment of reflection, or a little clarity when life feels uncertain.

This weekend, I'm opening 5 spots for 3-Card Tarot Readings at $18 each! ✨

Whether there's something on your mind or you're simply curious about what the cards might reveal, you're welcome.

💜 Only 5 spots available!

Message Sage Readings to reserve your reading.

With gratitude,
Brooke 💜

10/24/2026

The Worlds Within Me: Chaos Magick, Energy, and the Art of Intention

I consider myself a chaos energy practitioner.

For those who aren’t familiar with chaos magick, it’s a modern form of occult practice that developed during the 1970s. Rather than following one fixed religious or magical system, chaos magick emphasizes experimentation, intention, symbolism, visualization, and the flexibility of belief.

Practitioners may draw inspiration from different spiritual traditions, psychological concepts, meditation, ritual, and personal symbolism.

Now, that doesn’t mean we all practice the same way, nor does it mean practicing without structure, responsibility, or ethics.

In fact, one of the things I appreciate about chaos magick is that it encourages me to examine what I believe, why I believe it, and whether those beliefs still serve a meaningful purpose.

I’ve always been someone who questions things.

I listen, absorb information, consider different perspectives, and develop new ideas. Sometimes I’ll discover something that changes my understanding of a belief I’ve held for years.

And that’s okay.

I don’t think growing means holding on to every opinion I’ve ever had simply because I once believed it.

My mind is a little like a filing cabinet.

I can organize different subjects, ideas, memories, and experiences into their own compartments. Sometimes I’ll return to something years later and look at it with an entirely different understanding.

Other times, I close that drawer because I’ve learned what I needed to learn.

But there’s another part of my mind that has played an enormous role in my life and spiritual practice.

My imagination.

The Worlds I’ve Created

I’ve had an incredibly vivid imagination for as long as I can remember.

And when I say vivid, I mean entire worlds.

Characters, landscapes, histories, relationships, conversations, emotions, and storylines.

Some of these worlds have existed for years. I can revisit them, continue their stories, or explore a completely different direction whenever I feel like it.

The main characters generally remain themselves, even when the circumstances change.

And yes, sometimes they argue with me. LOL!

Many of these worlds began when I was young. They were inspired by bits and pieces of movies, fantasy, girlhood dreams, dramatic stories, and whatever else captured my imagination.

Some of those worlds I’ve since left behind.

I grew older, my interests changed, and the stories no longer held the same meaning for me.

But something interesting happened as I grew.

What had once been an inner refuge during difficult experiences gradually became a place where I could create, explore, enjoy myself, and work through things.

I didn’t lose my imagination as I became an adult.

I learned to use it differently.

And that brings me back to my practice.

Visualization and the Practice of Magick

Visualization is one of the most important parts of my spiritual work.

I do spell work, but much of my practice happens internally through imagination, meditation, intention, and visualization.

Sometimes I’ll draw a room, a building, or an area I’m focusing on.

Other times, I’ll recreate that space entirely within my imagination.

I visualize the environment and consider what I’d like to bring into it.

Perhaps I’m focusing on clearing what I understand as stagnant energy, creating a sense of protection, encouraging healing, or setting intentions for growth, health, and well-being.

I use colours, light, imagery, and feeling.

I might imagine light moving throughout a space, colours changing, or the atmosphere becoming lighter and more welcoming.

I continue working with the imagery until the space feels refreshed to me.

It’s a very visual and intuitive process.

And sometimes, that work involves something called a servitor.

Servitors, Tulpas, and Thoughtforms

In chaos magick, a servitor is generally understood as a thoughtform intentionally created by a practitioner for a particular purpose.

The broader concept of thoughtforms appears in Western esoteric traditions, particularly Theosophy, where concentrated thought and imagination were understood to produce forms on a subtle or spiritual level.

Chaos magick developed its own approaches to working with these ideas.

For me, a servitor is always something I’ve created myself.

I don’t ask another spirit, soul, or entity to serve me.

My servitors are individual. They have different appearances, personalities, identities, and purposes.

Some of the work I associate with them is personal, spiritual, or energetic.

One of mine takes the form of an animal.

She came into my practice during a time when I needed protection and safety.

I’m not going to reveal her particular form because some things remain personal to my practice.

But I will say that I don’t believe there’s one specific animal or appearance that everyone must use. Symbolism can be deeply individual, and sometimes an image develops naturally rather than being deliberately chosen.

Another term people may have heard is tulpa.

In contemporary tulpamancy, a tulpa is generally described as a persistent imagined companion or personality that may be experienced as having its own perspective and responses.

The modern concept has a complicated history. Although the terminology was influenced by Western interpretations of Tibetan spiritual ideas, contemporary tulpamancy isn’t identical to traditional Tibetan Buddhist practice.

A servitor and a tulpa aren’t necessarily the same thing.

Servitors are generally associated with an intentionally assigned purpose, whereas modern tulpamancy often emphasizes companionship and an ongoing sense of individual personality.

Then there are egregores, another concept from Western esotericism.

An egregore is generally understood as a collective thoughtform associated with the shared beliefs, emotions, and attention of a group.

These terms sometimes overlap in modern spiritual discussions, but they have different histories and meanings.

And then there’s something a little more personal to me.

Soul Links and My Labradorite Connection

Another term used in contemporary spirituality is soul tie or soul link.

These expressions generally describe what practitioners understand as a deep emotional, energetic, or spiritual connection between individuals or souls.

Different traditions interpret these connections differently, and there isn’t one universally accepted definition.

I have a labradorite stone that I personally associate with what I call a soul link.

The figure I associate with this stone has developed a distinct appearance, personality, and history within my spiritual imagination.

Sometimes his skin resembles labradorite itself, with the shifting colours and iridescence that make the stone so beautiful.

His story has evolved over time.

At one point, I saw one of his past lives as a warrior, associated with a rainforest.

As I continued exploring the connection, his current world surrounding him changed into somewhere that resembles our own, but isn’t quite the same.

I’ve also developed a greater sense of his personality and voice.

I distinguish this connection from my servitors because I didn’t intentionally construct him for a particular task.

My experience of him began differently, although I’ve consciously developed parts of his appearance and story through visualization.

I keep his name private, but I share some of these details because they help explain how imagination, symbolism, and spiritual experience can overlap in my practice.

I also recognize that people interpret experiences like these differently.

Some understand them spiritually, others psychologically, and some explore both possibilities.

I’m sharing how I understand and experience my own practice, not asking everyone to adopt the same beliefs.

My Code of Ethics: Just Because I Can, Should I?

Something I’ve learned through my spiritual practice is that intention matters, but so does responsibility.

I have strict standards for myself, and those standards extend to the servitors I create and the spiritual connections I work with.

I don’t ask them to do something I wouldn’t be willing to do myself.

That’s one of my most important rules.

I’m also careful about the kind of energy I choose to work with or direct toward others.

Generally, my intentions focus on kindness, protection, healing, growth, and well-being.

Now, I’m not going to pretend I’m some perfectly enlightened person who never gets angry, jealous, resentful, or hurt. LOL!

Of course I do.

I’m human.

But feeling an emotion and choosing to act on it are two different things.

I try to give my emotions careful consideration before deciding what to do with them.

And sometimes that means doing absolutely nothing.

Here’s where things become a little more complicated.

Even something we consider positive can raise ethical questions.

For example, what if I want to send someone clarity, closure, or healing?

That sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it?

But what if that person isn’t ready for closure? What if they’re working through something in their own way? What if my desire to help is actually coming from my discomfort with watching them struggle?

And what if the very experience I’m trying to protect them from is something they need to work through for themselves?

I’ve come to believe that doing something with good intentions doesn’t automatically make it the right thing to do.

Sometimes helping someone can create unexpected consequences.

Sometimes we take on responsibilities that were never ours to carry.

And sometimes, despite how much we care, another person needs to experience the consequences of their own choices.

That can be difficult to accept.

Especially when you love someone.

But there’s a difference between supporting someone and trying to rescue them from every uncomfortable experience.

Within my spiritual practice, I apply that same principle to the intentions and guidelines I establish for my servitors.

I sometimes work with my servitors and soul link while focusing on the safety and emotional well-being of people I care about.

I establish strict intentions around noninterference. My purpose isn’t to control anyone’s decisions, direct their life, or prevent them from learning through their own experiences.

And I recognize that spiritual impressions aren’t a reliable way to determine another person’s actual safety or emotional state. When I’m genuinely concerned, I believe in checking in with them directly.

I can care about someone without assuming responsibility for the direction of their life.

I can wish them healing without deciding what healing should look like for them.

And I can want to protect someone while still recognizing that their choices belong to them.

I think that’s an important part of developing personal ethics: learning to question not only our harmful intentions, but our supposedly good ones too.

Because even kindness requires discernment.

Every action has a reaction.

And sometimes the wisest action is knowing when to leave something alone.

Consent, Kindness, and Knowing When to Step Away

Another important part of my practice is consent.

When I want to offer someone healing, protection, or positive energy, I generally ask first.

Sometimes I’ll tell them what I’d like to send and give them the opportunity to accept or decline.

If someone is upset, struggling, or feeling alone, I may offer that kind of support.

Not because I think I can fix everything they’re experiencing, but because I believe love and kindness given freely can be beautiful things.

As long as there is no expectation attached.

I don’t offer support because I expect someone to feel differently afterward, thank me, change their behaviour, or become closer to me.

Their life is still theirs.

And I think that’s where intention and ethics meet.

It’s possible to want something wonderful for another person while still respecting their right to choose something different.

It’s also possible to care deeply without making their struggles your responsibility.

For me, spiritual practice isn’t about controlling outcomes or proving that I can influence someone’s life.

It’s about being thoughtful with my intentions, recognizing my own emotions, and remembering that other people deserve the same freedom I value for myself.

Sometimes I offer support.

Sometimes I listen.

And sometimes I recognize that the most respectful thing I can do is leave someone to find their own way.

Love given freely doesn’t come with conditions, obligations, or a debt to repay.

As Above, So Below: My Connection to the Earth

Another aspect of my energy work involves what I call anchoring energy.

Within my spiritual practice, I visualize energy being anchored into the Earth, particularly around the place where I live.

My intention is to encourage healing, growth, renewal, and restoration.

I imagine that energy taking root, spreading, and encouraging more of the same qualities to develop.

When I meditate, I often visualize myself rooted into the Earth like a tree, with roots extending deep beneath me.

At the same time, I imagine connecting upward toward the sun or moon.

When I’m anchoring energy, the imagery is different.

I usually visualize reddish-pink energy when anchoring, although sometimes it’s orange.

Interestingly, these colours weren’t something I deliberately selected. They appeared naturally in my visualization.

I imagine that energy being directed into the Earth, carrying my intentions for healing, renewal, growth, and restoration.

Sometimes I extend those visualizations beyond my immediate surroundings, imagining energy circulating around the planet and reaching people, animals, plants, and the natural world.

As above, so below.

That expression is associated with the Hermetic tradition and reflects the idea of correspondence between the greater universe and the world around and within us.

For me, it represents connection.

The relationship between what is above us, what is beneath us, and what exists within us.

I’ve also noticed what feels like a strong connection between my physical and emotional experiences and the natural environment.

For example, I’ve experienced migraines and nausea around times when earthquakes occur.

And sometimes the weather seems to reflect my emotions.

If I’m sad, I notice the rain. If I’m particularly upset, there may be dark skies or storms.

I sometimes compare this sensitivity to the way animals respond to changes in their environment.

I don’t know exactly why I experience these patterns, and I recognize that noticing a connection doesn’t necessarily establish what causes it.

But these experiences have contributed to my sense of connection with the natural world.

This kind of meditation can be demanding for me, so I’ve also learned to recognize when I’ve reached my limits.

Over time, I’ve come to appreciate that my relationship with the Earth isn’t only about what I hope to give through spiritual practice.

It’s also about listening, observing, learning, and remembering that I’m part of the environment I’m trying to care for.

Still Learning, Still Exploring

Something I’ve learned over the years is that imagination and spirituality don’t have to be separate from creativity, reflection, or personal growth.

Sometimes a conversation within my imagination challenges an opinion I hold.

Sometimes I explore an entirely different perspective simply because I’m curious.

And sometimes I just want to revisit one of my worlds and enjoy a good story. LOL!

Not everything has to become a lesson.

There are still many parts of myself that I don’t share publicly.

Not because I’m ashamed of them, but because they’re complex, personal, or simply difficult to put into words.

And some things are allowed to remain mine.

I’m always learning.

My understanding of my practice today isn’t necessarily the same as it was ten years ago, and I don’t expect it to remain exactly the same ten years from now.

If I discover something that changes my perspective, I’m willing to revisit what I thought I knew.

For me, growth isn’t about having every answer.

It’s about remaining curious enough to keep asking questions.

And perhaps that’s one of the things I enjoy most about my practice.

There’s always something more to explore.

10/23/2026

From Baby Medium to Becoming Me

When I was still a baby medium, lol, I would be putting my head down to sleep and hear a sea of voices. I had to exhaust myself just to not feel everything. I just wanted quiet.

“Brooke!!”

“Wake up!”

“Hello, can you…”

Every time I’d go to sleep, “they” would wake me up, but I didn’t know who “they” were.

I’d start to fall asleep and feel someone sit at the foot of my bed or next to me. Or I’d feel a little shove to the bed.

It was extremely scary and disconcerting. I didn’t know what to do.

I felt worn down. I felt that they were trying to connect with me, but I didn’t know how, and I was just trying to go about my life as normal.

But what is normal?

Now I see that I am normal, and what society as a whole has created as “normal” is not necessarily normal at all.

I don’t remember if someone asked me whether I’d ever tried talking to them, and I suddenly thought, “Ohhh!” SMH. Lol. 😆

I finally had enough, and one night I decided to acknowledge them.

“If you want me to listen, then let me sleep!!”

That’s the first time I heard nothing.

After that, I started making more rules about when I was available to listen or try to communicate.

I tried my best to find outside knowledge that might tell me how to communicate with them more easily, faster, and better.

I found bits and pieces everywhere. The internet, books, talking with like-minded people, or people who were already further along than me.

I had great mentors in my life, more than just a few. I was always learning and finding new perspectives to get a bigger picture.

I started to listen, to try to get the bits and pieces, but at that time, I was not where I am now.

Everything was much more muted than it is today.

I could grasp a feeling and a bit of the story, but it would go away just as I tried to lock in.

I’d get a whisper, but then nothing else to tie it to what I should do next.

Baby steps.

My body would burn out, and the crown area of my head would be splitting with migraines.

I had many rude awakenings, ego deaths, and dark nights of the soul. Many times, I got scared of what was happening and halted for years in certain areas of my gift.

Channeling scared the heck out of me!

I got herky-jerky, couldn’t talk as myself, didn’t move like myself, and it felt too weird.

I could feel them pushing me out and into my body. It was such a freaky feeling that when it hit, I would go into fight-or-flight mode.

So I said, “Nope! 🙂‍↔️ Not doing this.”

Not being able to talk using my own voice really disturbed me. Lol.

I wound up not trying channeling again for another two years.

Then I started to become more adept at it.

When I paint, create, or go through hard times, I channel what comes through.

Only good things. Not evil. It can be different from me, but not evil.

As time went on, images became clearer. People who came to me became clearer. I could grasp more if I didn’t try to force it or try too hard to understand it.

If my logical, rational mind took over, I would sometimes get information wrong.

I had to learn the difference between what I wanted to understand and what I was actually experiencing.

Ego, to me, is like the difference between what I want and what is.

I could also only help people to the extent of my own healed self.

Every time I matured, learned, grew, or figured something out, it made my readings faster and easier to recognize. If I got rid of an unhealthy cycle, I was more able to help someone else with theirs.

I remember one client saying, “You’re just too young to even know. You’ve never experienced this before.”

I had to admit the person was right. Lol. 😂 Tough pill to swallow!

I did wind up going through a similar experience, and only then did I understand a fraction of what they meant.

It made me curious to know more about what I didn’t know. 🙂

I’ve always been very sympathetic and would let people come up with excuses. I would defend myself, try to prove myself, and that also affected my readings.

Now that I say less and know more, I can root out what is at the bottom of the answer before someone even asks the question.

My belief in myself was shaky for a long time. I felt the need to defend, teach, and convince others of who I was.

But then, what was I?

I only knew of Empath. Psychic. Medium.

But I didn’t qualify myself as one. 🫢😅

I asked, “Why can I hear spirit?”

“You’re a medium.”

It took a long time to believe that.

At first, it felt like I had to convince everyone else, but of course, it was really myself.

I didn’t believe even though I believed. Haha!

And that made me reflect on how often we can say or think we believe in something until we really have to accept it.

It’s like seeing a mirror version of yourself but not believing it’s you, and yet it is.

I had to test things over and over until I could make sense of what was happening to me.

I started to realize I didn’t need to be perfect or know everything, maybe sometime around my mid-twenties.

And I’ve only become more me and more of the universe as I get older.

As I continued learning, other gifts started popping up at the same time.

An ability to not just sense where someone’s emotional pain was, but also what I perceived as physical pain and why it might be stuck there.

Often, I could see a person somewhat like an X-ray or CT scan, with bones, organs, and tissues all laid out in different colours.

I remember walking down a busy sidewalk one day.

A man was walking toward me. He was heavyset, and I’d never seen him before.

In a split second, it was like the hue of everything around us turned sepia brown.

His body appeared bright pink, red, orange, and yellow.

The parts I interpreted as healthy were orange and yellow, while the parts I interpreted as unhealthy were red and pink.

I was shocked.

I stared at him longer than I should have, but the experience shook me.

I didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell him that I believed his heart was failing.

And that brought up another question.

Should I tell someone what I see? Is it my place? Is it something I should even offer?

I struggled with that for a long time.

Ultimately, I decided that I don’t do death readings. I don’t tell people things that I feel are not my ego’s place to interfere with.

I don’t always know who will pass in the community. I’ve turned that setting off.

Often, I believe that when spirit needs to warn a family, their own psychics or intuitively sensitive family members will pick up on it.

I’ve since made it faster and easier to access what I experience as information about a person by simply connecting with them.

I don’t have to look up and down the body at all times anymore.

I also practice sending healing energy to people, even when they’re on the other side of the world.

I would experience intense whining in my ears, downloads of information, and sudden, clear knowing of who someone was or what mattered to them in a flash of a second.

I could focus on someone I wanted to heal or communicate with, and I would experience hearing from them.

Which is a bit more than just knowing when someone would call me. 🙂

On and on went this cycle of learning, burning out, healing myself and others, and ripping away layers of what I thought I was.

And I think that is where the bigger story really begins.

Because when I first started, I was a girl who had been hurt, who had left, and who then had to gain herself back again.

In a lot of ways, that was true.

I had to break apart everything conditioned in me in order to become the person I was.

I hadn’t really formed Brooke.

No one had ever asked.

No one had ever really asked me what I thought, what I felt, or what I wanted.

And I realized that even I didn’t ask myself those questions.

Therapy helped me. Talking with like-minded people helped me. Asking questions and not thinking I knew everything helped me.

But so did trusting my gut to lead me toward information that could help me understand.

Knowledge for the sake of knowledge is often not pain-free.

Experiences stick longer and deeper.

Knowing is much better but it takes a great deal of maturity and processing to integrate and to fully understand.

I’m at a place where I’m still discovering, still learning, and still finding what makes me happy with every year that passes because I’m always different.

I’m always recreated after my hardships.

That’s the way I’ve always been.

I don’t forget. I don’t begrudge. Most times, if it’s something minor, I let it go and completely move on.

Healing doesn’t mean I act like it never happened or that it didn’t hurt me.

It’s standing up after crying and saying, “Well, I learned a lot. I know who I was when I started, and I can decide if I need to change, adapt, or learn.”