My psychic back story

When I began this blog, I pledged that it would be a place to explore issues of the psychic realm. I began the blog with the introductions to my tarot deck, which have since been interrupted, but never fear more of those installments will be coming in the future.

As I began to write, and reflect, I began to insert more of myself and my current situation into the blog.

Thus the posts on balance, epiphany, and rediscovery.

Last night, as I was fighting yet another stretch of elusive sleep, I started thinking about how else I might utilize my blog. I thought perhaps it might be good to share some of my own back story, the stuff that has led me to where I am now, as a psychic guide.

I am also in the process of writing a book, that I have titled "Psychic Trails through the Camps..." It will be, when it is finished, an investigation of the psychic experiences I had while visiting and exploring a number of the former concentration camps in Europe. The book will also include discussions of my own psychic development that led me to where I am today.

As I work on the manuscript, I decided I should share pieces of the story here. I thought I would start with my early experiences and development.

So, without further ado, here is installment one of "Psychic Trails through the Camps..."

My Story
We all serve a purpose (or multiple purposes) in our lives.

Recently, I have been enlightened as to one of my purposes: to serve as a second generation witness to the atrocities of the Holocaust.

All of my life, since I was a child of about 4 years old (my earliest memories), I have suffered from nightmares that I could not explain – dreams in which I was imprisoned in the most horrendous hell on earth, sentenced to die well before my time, forced to watch as those around me were punished, subjected to the cruel whims of our captors. These dreams started long before I had ever heard the term Holocaust or had any knowledge of what those events really were. And they included detail and information that I should not and could not have known. Each dream was a vivid recollection of events, often replaying over and over in my mind, always with the same gruesome result.


These dreams have continued throughout my adult life, recurring in many different forms, yet remaining essentially unchanged. It was these dreams, in some real sense, that guided me to my chosen field of study, the Holocaust.

As I have come to learn more, however, both about the Holocaust as a historical event, and about my own dreams, I have come to realize that I have a deeper purpose here: to act not only as a teacher of these events to prevent their repetition, but also to tell the stories of those who can no longer share their experiences with us.

And this brings me to another aspect of my experience of the Holocaust. All of my life, in addition to the nightmares mentioned above, I have had a string of visions, feelings, and premonitions that I never quite understood. I often knew when people were ill, even before they realized it, and I predicted a number of events in our personal life.

When I was just six years old, my maternal grandfather died, to whom I was very close. I was allowed to attend the wake, though my parents believed I was too young to understand what had happened. As I approached the casket with my father, his hand on my shoulder, I had my first physical psychic experience. The rest of the room disappeared from my view, and only my grandfather and I remained, as if in a tunnel of light, surrounded by darkness. My grandfather opened his eyes, took my hand, smiled, and told me not to worry. Things would be ok, he promised, and he told me he loved me, smiled again, and closed his eyes. My hand slipped out of his, and the rest of the room came back into view.

To this day, I remain convinced that this exchange actually took place, despite the skepticism of others.

Still, I pushed these incidents aside, and did not realize or accept their true significance. As a youth, I was afraid to say much to others about the experiences I was having, for fear of being labeled as a freak or as mentally unbalanced. It also led me to actively ignore the sensations when they appeared, and suppress my abilities, despite their growing power.

It would not be until much later that I would be able to begin to make sense of these early sensations and understand them for what they really are. In the meantime, these experiences haunted me, and made me feel strange and isolated.

Have you ever experienced these things? How have you accepted or rejected your abilities? What have you done to come to terms with your heightened perceptions?