04/18/2026
Last night, when I got home, I took this picture after Chuck said, “You look exhausted.”
I smiled… but my body told the truth.
What many don’t realize is that I don’t just sense energy… I feel it in my physical body. The living. The other side. It moves through me like a current, and over the years I’ve learned the difference between what belongs… and what doesn’t.
In the middle of the event, something hit.
It started as a sharp buzzing in my head, like static rushing in all at once. My ears felt full, my vision shifted, and for a moment it was like I was half in the room… and half somewhere else. I couldn’t quite place my feet under me. Couldn’t find my center. Like my body forgot where it was supposed to be.
And I knew immediately… it wasn’t mine.
It was connected to the person I was reading-their person coming in strong-but there was also another energy hovering at the edge, trying to slip through the opening.
That’s the part people don’t always understand about this work. When the veil thins, it doesn’t just open for one. And not everything that shows up is meant to come through.
There’s a moment, fast, instinctual, where I have to decide what stays, what goes, and what gets shut down entirely. And last night, I had to push back. Hard.
I grounded. I pulled myself fully back into my body. I closed what needed to be closed.
And then I kept going.
Because that’s the balance of this work… being open enough to connect, but strong enough to protect the space.
I’m okay. But it does take something out of you. More than people see.
So I came home, did my “wipe it all off” ritual, crawled into bed…
…and apparently spirit had a backlog, because it was one of those nights. Message after message. No quiet. No off switch.
A gift, always.
But also… a reminder.
This isn’t just something I do.
It’s something I carry.