Raising an Intuitive Child

I'm sure you would all suspect that I would be pumping my child with new age philosophy, talking to him about Angels and what not!  The truth was, I didn't.  I wanted him to develop his own sense of spirit without influence from me.  Sure, I had read all the books on children remembering their past lives and I knew if my son was going to talk about it I sure as hell was going to listen.  I knew from experience that being shut down as child when you are have a very real moment is not much fun!

There was definitely something about Cole that was different.  People could see it and often commented on it.  It was on my 29th birthday, he was three years old, when we went to sit in the corner of the room for a minute while the rest of the party continued on.  He always would get me to tell him about the story of when he was born.  This time I thought I would tease him and I turned the question around.

"Tell mommy a story about when she was born."

"Well..,"  he began answering.  Then he paused.  "Mommy, did you know I use to be a man before?" Surprised by what he said I answered calmly, "No honey I didn't know that." Then he got into detail.
"I used to be a man but I killed, then I was a baby but I didn't last very long, then I came to you."  These were strong words for this particular little guy and I was curious to see what he meant.  "Who did you kill baby?"  Looking up with those beautiful innocent eyes he answered, "Oh don't worry mommy I only killed myself."  Then he ended with, "Can I have some cake?"

Now I know what you might be thinking.  He saw it on T.V! He overheard someone talking.  The thing you need to take into consideration is the fact that his shows were very monitored and even if he did see something about killing yourself the child was three, he would not be able to comprehend what that even meant. That memory was just the beginning.

He started to talk all the time about his brother billy and his mother who he missed so much. He was very clear in letting me know that it was his mother before me.  I never really said much because I wanted to hear him tell me these things with no influence.  I would just say things like, "Really honey, tell me about them!"

One day he came home from daycare and said "Mommy can you sit down, I need to tell you about Billy."  I sat down and listened very intently, but what he told me next gave me goosebumps.  It wasn't just what he said but how he said it, as if he were 20.

"Mommy, I use to have this brother Billy before I was your son.  We didn't look like this, we were brown.  We lived in a black apartment and my dad had a shop.  One day my mother had to leave and dad took care of us kids." Then Cole made sure I knew, "Mommy, he did the best he could!"

"Then one day my mother came home and we went for a walk.  We crossed the street and the car hit me first, then it hit mommy.  Her body fell on top of my body and then we flew up to God."

By this time I was completely captivated by what he was saying.  As if my little boy had been taken over by a completely different personality for those few minutes.  I decided to ask, "Honey what does God look like, mommy can't remember?"  His eyes opened wide and a big smile came across his face, "Oh mommy God is so nice!"  Then he continued.  "When I went to God I took a little rest, then God showed me a picture of you and said I was a gift for you mommy!"  Then as quickly as this conversation started it ended with the question, "Can I have some fruit loops now."

As my son bounced off to the kitchen I sat there not really sure what had just happened.  To me it felt like a miracle.  Sure I could analyze it till the sun when down, but I choose to take it as raw innocence and a gift.  I never really talked to Cole about God, but I did find it interesting that when he spoke of "God" he never referred to a sex, like "he or she."  Don't even get me started on how amazing it felt to know that even though I didn't go to church, "God" had given Cole to me as a gift!

After this story he began opening up about being "That Man" again.  He said he use to know me when I was little and he knew Nana too.  I guess one day he got really upset with my mother and stomped his foot at her hollering, "Nana why don't you remember me, I knew you before!"  Mom unfortunely was not as accepting as I was and just told him that he was using his imagination.  This totally upset Cole.

One day while sitting with Cole in the living room of my friend's place he whispered, "Mommy you know what I told you about Billy (this was a few months later)."  I responded, "Yes sweet heart I do."  A sad look came over his face and he continued to whisper, "I made it up. I was just using my imagination."  I was shocked by this, in my heart I don't really think he was making it up, so I just said, "Really honey, that's okay!"  Then he leaned in closer and said, "I didn't really make it up mommy but that is what we will tell them. They don't believe me!"

By him using the word 'Imagination' I became curious.  This was not a word he used very often being only three and all.  "Who doesn't believe you honey?"  I already knew the answer so I wasn't surprised when he whispered back, "Nana."

Over time he began sharing his stories less and less but something always told me that he was keeping a secret for fear of ridicule.  Three years later after the tragic murder of our dear friend Ottilia my mother had a severe stroke leaving her paralized and currently still in the hospital.  With these two very emotional experiences Cole opened up again, this time he was not ashamed!

Stay tuned to find out about his memories of God, the different levels of heaven and why he feels he "Came back."

The Psychic Catholic Experience

This being a new venture for me, I decided that the key to a successful blog is to not think about it too much and just do it!  One of the things you need to know about me is that I am a business person and for me to share this side of myself will seem strange to a lot of people who think they know me, but not so strange to the ones who actually do.  Even though I am a business person, I am also an artist and I love to embrace the imprefect aspects of myself so the grammar will not be perfect here, there will be typos, but it will be real!  I am all about being real!


My abilities as an Intuitive was always something I have struggled in accepting of myself.  With psychic visions and audio clairvoyant experiences occurring pretty consistently throughout my childhood, I never thought I could share it with my family because I didn't understand it.  Coming from a small town in Nova Scotia the population is primarily Catholic, and from my experience, we Catholic's don't believe in such things.  Not exactly a nurturing space to talking about my grandfather that showed up in my room to say "Goodbye" after dying days before.  I knew what to expect from my skeptical but loving mother, "Honey you were just dreaming!"  After these conversations I would retire to my room deflated because I actually did see Papa, nobody believed me, and it was so frustrating! I was very aware that there was a life after death.  Thoughts of "If they just believed me then the healing process would be faster", always framed my experiences but they never did, and I stopped talking about it.


It's only been the last two years that I have begun to accept this strange ability, which I actually think we all possess it's just stronger or more receptive in others.  Even in this process of accepting I struggled and called the experience, "Coming out of the Intuitve closet".


For example,even after meeting my current boyfriend who seemed to be a trigger for some of the most intense intuitve experiences, I never felt comfortable talking about it.  It had nothing to do with his acceptance of it, it's just that I didn't understand and I truthfully didn't want to debate it or defend it because it my world it just "Was." 


Sometimes when you open that door for discussion with the public they often think you are trying to challenge their beliefs.  I have no interest in doing this. I think we all have beliefs and different experiences here on earth and unless they are influencing people in a truly negative way I enjoy hearing and learning from all different paths. 


During my twenties I became very involved in the wellness community.  I studied Reiki energy healing, I learning how to give readings, I practiced Tai Chi and I experienced how to work with "Chi" in many different ways.  This community is filled with some of the most amazing, accepting, beautiful people I have ever encountered!  As I grew older I started to seek a different approaches to energy work because I found the constant state of living in this world of "Chakra's, Angel's and Energy Work", exhausting.  I needed to learn how to use all these tools but still be present in the "Physcial World." I needed to learn about being grounded and how to incorporate being an Intuitive with being a mother, business person, partner and friend. 


So I began taking notes and really paying attention to what was happening in my world because I knew I was not alone and that others out there probably had very similar experiences.


I would like to share these notes with you and open a conversation on how you use your intuition in your life.  How do you balance your gifts with your personal goals and achievement?  In my next blog I will be sharing some key definitions of different types of Intuitions, until then please enjoy a few more excerpts from my book that I hope to have edited and published in the near future!  It is very raw and seriously needs to be ripped apart by an editor, but like I said before, I love embracing my imperfections!
My book is titled "Dear Cole, Never Say Never!" and it is a memoir written to my unborn child Cole, as I share with him the journey I have experienced as well as the journey I anticipate after choosing to be a single mother.

July 14.04

Dear Cole,

Sitting here writing this journal to you, holding my belly try to grasp the reality that you exist, remembering those nights in Australia where I sat in deep mediation feels like light years away from this moment.  How strange that in those moments it was when I was given my first glimpse of you. 

I’ll never forget it. One day I went into a deep meditation after getting on my hands and knees crying to God to give me a sign.  Where was my life headed?  I fell asleep and had the most vivid vision I have had in years.  I was sitting on a table giving birth.  My best friend Karen and my mother were there, and every time I went into a contraction Karen would start rubbing these tattoos of flags on my leg, making me laugh.  I asked her what she was doing and she said, “Well this baby has got to know where you’ve been.”  I immediately woke up! 

The feeling that embraced my body was a bliss I had never felt before. I didn’t feel alone in that room.  I felt love radiating off of everything and the only thing I could think to do was get on my bike and drive to the store at the end of the road and devour a Mars bar. Chocolate always makes me feel fantastic!

 I didn’t understand the vision, it wasn’t as if I wanted to get pregnant and I took it as a glimpse into my far future.  I never clued in that the vision didn’t include a man in the picture.  I didn’t question why it was Karen and mom I just thought it was a reassuring sign that one day I would be lucky enough to experience the gift of life.  I called Karen in Canada right away to tell her about the experience.  She was one of the best friends I had and always wanted to hear about my spiritual experiences since she had witnessed them first hand growing up many times over.  It was one of those things I didn’t even really know I did but I guess I would get a faraway look in my eyes, blurt out something random that was going to happen and sure enough days later the episode I predicted would unfold.  She knew I had this gift even if I didn’t understand it and it was nice to be able to share with someone without them questioning my sanity.

About a week after this vision I went into the city of Cairns with John.  We had a couple hours to kill so he dropped me off at the mall.  I walked around checking out all the stores and sales when I notice a man set up inside a smaller room and quickly saw he was giving tarot card readings.  Someone was sitting with him and I watched as he intensely spoke to this person while point at each card.  In front of his window he had a table with a scrapbook off all the police cases and he had helped solve.  I had my cards read before while living in Halifax but I had never seen anyone with a record of using their psychic ability to help solve missing person cases.  I was completely intrigued and decided to give it a go.

I sat down in front of him and I shuffled the cards, he briefly looked at them and then looked into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity.  It made me uncomfortable so I let out a giggle to ease the tension.  Then he just asked me a question that floored me.  “Cara, why aren’t you doing this?”

“Doing what,” I asked playing dumb.  He looked me in the eyes again and responded, “Honey you have the ability to do what I do.  You have the sight, why do you not use it?”

I had never had anyone ask me that before, let alone know that I experienced the things that I did so I just told him the truth, “Because it scares me.”

“You don’t have to be scared you could really be helping people with your gift, why don’t you try?” He insisted but ever so gently.

“I don’t want to know,” I told him, “Some of the things I see I don’t understand and I’m not sure I want to.”

He looked back at the cards and then at me.  “Well Cara you can run from your gift but you can’t hide and by the time you are in your early thirties it will find you whether you like it or not but it won’t be as scary as you think.”

I was fine with that, my thirties felt like eons away and I would just deal with it when the time came.  The next thing he said to me almost made me fall out of my chair.

“Are you trying to get pregnant?” He asked with a serious tone in his voice that made me feel like I was being talked to by a parent. 

“No” I quickly replied but I was shocked he asked me this considering I had just had one of the most profound spiritual visions thus far days before. 

“Are you sure?” he persisted.

“Umm yeah,” I sarcastically responded, “Pretty sure that’s not on the top of my list I gotta say.”

He got quite for a minute and took my hand. 

“Well, I have to warn you that if this is something you don’t want you must be careful because in exactly four months you will be pregnant.”

I left his little table dumb founded.  One, that fact that he knew about the things I saw was a first for me, and two, PREGNANT!  Wasn’t that a vision about my far future?  I couldn’t even picture it and when I got in the car I joked around with John and told him what the so called “psychic” said.  The last thing I remember about that day was saying to John, “Could you imagine if that happened?  How my life would be totally different?” Then I put it out of my head.

A few weeks later I met your father and the prophecy which I had already forgotten about, began to unfold.

Life as an Intuitive! How it all began!

So I thought I would start by telling you a little about myself and how life as an intuitive unfolded for me.  It seems I have an extremely detailed memory of my life dating back as far at three years old.  I use to have this imaginary friend named "Dini", who I remember following me around, making me laugh, and talking to me in one of the most transformative times of my life.  These were the moments that lead to my near death experience and the entry point into my gifts as an Intuitive.  Here are the first three subchapters of my book, "Dear Cole, Never Say Never" that I will be releasing soon. It is the beginning of my journey and how life was never the same again!

My Imaginary Friend
""He's standing right there", I announced with great conviction, "Can't you see him?"  My brother Chris and my mother Coleen just stood there and tried not to smirk too much as I so seriously introduced them to a being made of thin air.  "Cara sweet heart, there's nobody there," my mother soothingly confirmed.  I couldn't understand it, how could they not see him, he stood so tall and beautiful.  
    I had been seeing Dini for months now.  His presence was uncertain to me but I loved having him around.  Our conversation was limited, as if we didn't have to use words in order to know what each of us was thinking.  Little did I know that Dini was a visitor preparing me for what was yet to come.
    I was only five years old when he first showed himself to me. Shortly after I remember strange things started to happen to my body.  The first time it happened I was lying in bed staring at my floral print wallpaper, the room suddenly started to feel what I described at the time as "fat."  Each time it happened fear crept up onto my skin and buried itself into my soft flesh.  Dini, always there with a smile in his eyes made me feel at ease afterwards, but soon the episodes grew worse.  
    One day while acting out Snow White in my best friend Laura's basement she watched me fall to the floor thrashing and gasping for breath. Laura, thinking I was playing, giggled as she observed my silly additions to the story.  These episodes had become such a common occurrence for me that they never phased Laura or I, too young to understand the depth of what was occuring. My parents started to notice my strange behavior as well.  One time in particular walking into the mall I felt the sensation creep up on me, I tried to control but it was no use, fully conscious my legs lost all control.  I watched the walls of the department store grow lucid and alive, my tongue thick and heavy stood between me and my ability to communicate.  My mother tried to hold me up, she used everything in her will to support me but her daughter was falling away from her in more ways than one. 
    Dini remained with me this whole time, observing in the corner with his gentle and loving presence.  I knew that no one could see him but I was so relieved that he made himself visible to me, especially during school.  I began to find keeping up the charade that everything was adequate in my world a bit exhausting. Dini was the one thing that gave me strength when the abuse started to happen. 
    Mrs. Fraser, my grade one teacher didn't know any better, to her I was just  a spoiled child seeking attention.  Falling to the floor, staring into air when she asked me a question, these were all signs of a brat trying to be one above the rest.  The only ways she knew how to deal with me was to punish me.  Soon my lunch was being taken away, I was standing in the corner more than I was sitting at my desk, her eyes became so cold and her voice became coated with resentment towards me.
    So shy and introverted I couldn't understand why a grown-up hated me so much.  All I wanted to do was make her happy so I never told my parents about any of the things she did to me, I wanted to protect her. Dini explained to me in his own way that she needed love, but loving her I found most times to be an unbearable challenge.
    It was a cold December day and all the students had just returned from playing outside, each faces showing the rosy complexions of a Nova Scotian winter.  You could hear the hustle and bustle of each classroom preparing for the big Christmas concert for our parents.  Mrs. Fraser suggested that we practice our song in front of the grade two class to better anticipate our big debut the following week .  I was so excited and so extremely nervous.  We all considered the grade two class the big kids and I had a huge crush on a boy named Jason LeBlanc who would be sitting right there with his eyes on me.  As we lined up I stood tall ready to give a perfect performance. When I looked up and spotted Jason in the second row I blushed at the very sight of him.  The music started and we all began belting out our heart felt Christmas carol when I felt that familiar feeling starting to possess my body.  My legs started sinking to the floor, my eyes stayed focused on Jason and I tried fighting my legs with all my might but it was no use the feeling was stronger than my 6 year old will.  I lay completely flat on the ground looking up at Mrs Fraser  who was now leaning over me with a stern look of disapproval painted across her middle aged face.  She grabbed my arm and tried yanking me up to my feet but the feeling was stronger than her as well.  "Get up Cara,"  she demanded trying to keep her temper to a dull roar in front of the other teachers.  All the children were giggling and I prayed to God to make me vanish but God didn't answer.  Instead Mrs. Fraser decided to teach me a lesson for my disobedience and when I finally gain control and was able to stand she slapped her hand over my butt three times in front of the whole class as a warning to them not to cross her.  
    Dragging me to our classroom across the hall she continued to torment and accuse me of maliciously making a fool of her and the rest of the class. Tears streaked down my delicate cheeks as I stood in the corner the remainder of the day praying to God to make it stop and for Mrs. Fraser to like me again.  In the unconventional way that God likes to work, he answered my prayers.


My Death
    It was three days after the incident at school and I had caught the flu so I stayed home to re-cooperate.   The day after my experience with Mrs Fraser my  mother and father  sat me down trying to ask me all kinds of questions desperate in finding an answer to what was happening to their little girl.  I tossed and turned, playing and trying everything to get them to talk about something else.  I had no idea what was happening to me and I sure didn't want my mother and father to worry about me so I just decided not talking about it was the best answer.  
    After spending the day comforting me as I ran to the washroom vomiting from the stomach virus that polluted my body, my mother finally got me settled into a good night sleep. Quietly she crept out of the room gently closing the door behind her.  Mom joined my father in the living room who was already sprawled out on the sofa.  As they sat inter-twined the light flickered from the television revealing the tired expressions on both their faces.  A loss for words left the couple quiet and hypnotized by the imagery flashing before them.  They basked in the calm and in an instant the storm arrived with a bang.
    "What was that?" my mother blotted up at the sound of a pounding thud against the wall.  Feet not touching the ground she threw open my door to find me in a catatonic state changing various shades of blue, gasping for air.   "Dear God, Fran quick."  Dad already behind her ran to the phone and called the neighbor, a registered  nurse who happened to be off duty.  
    "Cara sweetheart, mommies here wake up baby."  My mother continuously called into my body as tears began gathering on the edge of her eyes.  "Mom what's wrong with Cara?" My brother Chris inquired as he peered into the room in shock by the sight of me.  "Go back into your room honey, your sisters going to be okay we just need to take her to the hospital so she will feel better."  The terrified look on Chris's face was enough to put my mother over the edge.
    As soon as the neighbor arrived she ordered my father and mother to help her get me into the car fearing I would not survive waiting for an ambulance.  My father with super strength and unwavering determination to save his little girl lifted my body as if my stiff body was stuffed with feathers.  Securing me in the car mom continued to call out my name while dad ran every red light all the way to the hospital. Upon arrival I was quickly whisked away to emergency where nurses and doctors attempted to suction me out and bring me back from the flat line state I had slipped into after drowning from the fluid that so quickly filled my lungs.
A view from the ceiling
    I heard the door close as mom left my room and for a moment sleep felt close by.  Soon that feeling was replaced with a rapid wave of fear. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room I saw him standing in  the corner. Dini told me not to be afraid and that soon I would return.  With the end of that message I found myself rising and watched the situation unfold from the ceiling of my bedroom.  I felt no pain, no fear only lightness as I observed my parents trying to bring me out of my catatonic condition.
    Dini remained close. i could feel others with him and had an understanding of all that was occurring.  I watched the doctors work fiercely on my body determined to revive the limp precious six year old that lay before them.  Soon as quickly as I had floated away from that shell I was slammed back into it with all lightness exchanged with heavy pain.  My head throbbed, fear was back and confusion overcame me as I tried to figure out who I was, who they were, where I was and what had just happened to me.
    Sleep crept up on my body like a soft wave and for the next two days drifted in and out of seizures as they rushed me to Halifax for treatment.  Dini was gone and I never saw him again.  As if he prepared me for the dramatic arch of the story he excited stage right instilling knowledge in me to survive and overcome all that lay before me.  My six year old mind couldn't comprehend the miracle I had been given but upon reflection I was never the same again.