Updated: Dec 29, 2018
I had a childhood that was wonderful in many ways, but often very challenging, navigating complicated family relationships. As an only child with a unique custody arrangement, I spent most of my time entertaining myself. I had imaginary friends, loved to write, sing, make art, and read. Being creative and getting lost in imaginary worlds was a source of comfort for me. I have always felt deeply reassured by the invisible support system that surrounded me. In retrospect as an adult and a mother, it’s amazing to me that I ended up as balanced and emotionally healthy as I did. I know I can thank the adults in my life for that, but I also know that my Spiritual Support Team played a major role in helping me cope and grow through these challenges.
As a child, I was always deemed a little quirky. I had a fascination with ghosts and the afterlife. While other kids watched Full House on Friday nights, I watched Unsolved Mysteries. In fourth grade, we had a poetry assignment. While most of my peers recited things from Shel Silverstein, I chose Edgar Allen Poe and the teacher had to help me find one that was appropriate enough to memorize. I loved to write ghost stories and I used to sneak horror stories inside of my hymnal at church on Sundays. I would read an entire Goosebumps novel in one afternoon.
All of these favorite pastimes are probably why no adults took me seriously when I spoke about the Spirits in our home. I most specifically remember the man who lived in our attic. He was old, and his rocking chair would keep me awake at night. I could feel him so strongly any time I went into the attic, and sometimes I’d see him in my room at night, standing at the foot of my bed. I felt protective of him. I remember telling friends or family and they'd want to check it out. I stopped talking about it because I wanted him to be left alone.
I also distinctly remember that I loved to play on the swing set my father and grandfather had built for me. When I’d get stressed, I’d swing away and talk it out thoroughly with someone I couldn’t see but could hear. I was always labeled as having an overactive imagination and was talked out of any gifts I was naturally born with. Society labels this behavior as crazy, and when parents and caregivers reinforce that notion by dismissing it, children close off to their gifts and deny them. They didn't mean any harm, but not wanting your child to be made fun of often takes priority over cultivating otherworldly gifts that we can't see or prove. I was no different.
Other kids thought I was weird and so did my dad. My strange interests were bad enough- he was a black and white guy, a numbers guy, a logic guy. I had my head in the clouds. He was very closed off to even the mere mention of Spirits. It's still a subject he actively avoids. And he still thinks I'm weird.
In high school English class, we were tasked with writing a ghost story. I chose to make one up, inspired by the ghost from the attic that I remembered as a child. The story was about how he’d been so distraught over the loss of his wife, that he’d killed himself. His spirit couldn’t stand to leave the property, so he haunted the family that lived there now. When I showed my family, they were floored because I had no way of knowing that my story was all true. The only detail I’d gotten wrong in my story was who had found his body- he’d really been discovered by my own grandfather.
My grandparents, Gege and Papa, were my favorite people in the world. Through lots of change in my childhood, their house was my safe place and my home base. We lived there for a time, and while raising me had taken a village, Gege was probably the person I most consider to be my primary mother figure. We loved to watch John Edwards’ show together, and one day while watching, my grandparents confessed to me something that they’d held relatively secret for many years. They used to have trance mediumship parties after my father and aunt were asleep. My grandfather’s brother was a medium- he’d connect through a trance to his Spirit Guide, a native American man, who would then deliver channeled messages from the Spirits around him. Papa told me that he’d been studying and practicing his mediumship as well, but that it scared him, and he withdrew and closed off. He said he’d always regretted it.
I was fascinated and held an incredible new respect for my grandparents. My own father was so different from this. I couldn’t believe they had the same interests as me- the black sheep of the family! I also remember feeling a little envy. Mediums were so amazing, I would have given anything to have that ability. I was so drawn to it and would often daydream about how cool it would be to have that gift.
Over the years I lived in several more “haunted” apartments and had more “ghostly” encounters. I often would say “I must just be a little sensitive to it” or “they know I’m open to it so that’s why they come to me.” But it never occurred to me to equate that with mediumship. I loved it, welcomed it, and thought it was just good luck and circumstance. It wasn’t until after the birth of my daughter that I realized it for what it was. All along I’d been believing that my clairvoyance and clairaudience were my overactive imagination, even well into my adulthood. The narratives from my childhood were so strong that I could see Spirits directly in front of me and still write it off.
During my pregnancy with Ellie, my mother in law passed away unexpectedly. We were all shocked and deep in our grief. My father in law had passed about a year prior, and she had always been very interested in mediums. In cleaning out her condo, we found a journal full of notes from her readings. She was always so desperate to connect with him and found so much comfort in her readings. How wonderful that someone could provide that for her. I held that notebook and read it through and cried. I would talk to her beautiful Spirit all the time. She became my sounding board. For weeks after her death, I’d show up to work with tears on my face because I’d been crying to her in the car on my way. It was painful and cathartic at the same time. I always asked her to be with us and send us signs that she was near. I knew, because of her deep belief in spirits and mediums, that if she was able to send us signs, she would.
The signs started to come quickly after asking for them. She’s still an amazing source of comfort for me, sending signs all the time. I could list them forever, but one of my favorite memories is the day I was sitting at my desk thinking of her and suddenly heard a neighboring church playing Amazing Grace on the bagpipes- I sung this at her funeral, and my husband’s family is Scottish. She loved this version. I knew it was her and felt her so strongly. Another time, my husband was making some sort of wise crack about how he was an orphan, and the cabinet door where we keep their ashes flew wide open. It made a loud popping sound and the door swung all the way on its hinges. I started to be able to feel her presence around me often, physically standing behind me. I remember calling my sister in law telling her “I know this sounds crazy but I swear your mom was in my living room tonight.”
Life continued on, and while I was loving my mother in law’s supportive visits, I felt a sense of longing for something more. I felt pulled to leave my non-profit career and find something that helped me better focus on my family. I craved a new purpose for my life. I had felt like my entire life’s mission had been to become a mother. Now I had achieved my dreams and was so happy to be raising these amazing little human beings, but what was I now? Why was I here? I felt pulled to get back into meditation and tarot, which were things I’d practiced since I was a teenager off and on.
As I started to dive deeper into my spiritual practices, I recognized that I was opening up more. I could hear and see things in my meditations that I previously had dismissed. I loved it and set the intention with the Universe that I wanted more! I was ready. I joined groups to learn more about developing spirituality, I read books, I listened to lectures. I was all in. I intended to start working on my intuition more than anything else, but as soon as I set that intention the Universe went to work. I said I was open, so they opened the flood gates.
Spirits started coming to me in my sleep. The father of a relative once even interrupted my dreams with a “knock knock” to deliver messages. I had to change my route to work because I could hear cries while driving past the old mental hospital in town.
I started practicing in the safety of the facebook groups, trying to get information from members’ photos. I was shocked and excited and nervous all at the same time. How could I possibly know these things? How could I possibly be answering questions about people I'd never met? Was this really happening to me? Was this really happening FOR me?
I kept it all a secret for a while, not sure what to make of the craziness that was happening to me. It was amazing and overwhelming at the same time, and I worried all the time about judgment and how “crazy” this would make me look. My dad was still so dismissive of me, and kids had been so mean to me that it brought up so many anxieties from my childhood where I felt dismissed and sometimes even bullied. But Spirit pushed me. Spirit wouldn't let me make myself small anymore because of fear.
The more I opened up with people and shared what I was experiencing, the more my gifts grew. I practiced on friends and family and eventually, their support and encouragement allowed me to start offering my services to other people. Sharing this part of myself with the general public felt like I was sharing some dark secret, and I was terrified at how I’d be received.
Luckily, I’ve been shown so much support and love, and have learned to let the nay-sayers roll off my back. Of course, there are people who will think I’ve gone nuts, but the reward and fulfillment I get from the people who love their messages is worth it. Aside from my children, my mediumship and spiritual practices might be the most life changing and empowering thing that has ever happened for me. I finally feel like I am myself, fully and truly who I am meant to be. I am doing what I have been meant to do all along. Not just in this lifetime but in past lifetimes as well. I get to spend every day bringing other people together on both sides of the veil. To get the opportunity to share love and validation from the other side is an incredible gift. The magnitude of this is not lost on me and I spend time every day practicing gratitude for it.
Thank you, dear readers, clients, and supportive friends. Thank you for the chance to spread the love and light that I now know is my divine mission.
May you be blessed and loved,
Jamie Day xo