Dr. Debra Diamond has written several blogs for us and also shared her insights during our NDE FORUM 5 about the aftereffects of NDEs based on her research, summarized in her book Life After Near Death. She is not only a researcher but is also a psychic and medium. In today's post, she answers : What is the difference between a psychic and a medium?
People are often confused about the difference between psychics and mediums. This is complicated by the fact that all mediums are psychic - but not all psychics are mediums, and that sometimes both psychic and mediumship readings are offered in the same session.
Since I am both a psychic and a medium, I’ll describe the differences to you. They involve different responsibilities and a different set of skills.
The Difference Between Psychics and Mediums
Here’s the difference between a psychic and a medium:
A psychic retrieves information about such things as relationships, career, money, love, life path, and health. Psychics may also use their skills to receive information about a sitters’ past, present, future, or all three. They may do this by using a variety of tools including tarot cards, astrology charts or runes, or they may employ alternate methods of divination such as scrying or reading auric fields. Some psychics, like myself, do not use tools, since I receive the information spontaneously. Psychic readings may offer guidance, insight, a fresh perspective, or approaches for dealing with challenges.
Mediums are different than psychics. Mediums are about the...
Today, we’re hosting journalist and author Alicia Young, who joins us to share an excerpt of her book Visit from Heaven: A Soul’s Message of Love, Loss and Family. Alicia recounts her transformative out-of-body experience in which she was visited by Bobby, the soul of a little boy. He had a powerful message from the Other Side for his grieving parents. We’re also offering copies as giveaways (see link at the end). Alicia, over to you.
Thanks for this opportunity, Dr. Moody and Lisa. And thank you, too, for reading the book yourselves. I’ve selected a few passages from early chapters. I also welcome questions at [email protected].
This is not the book I set out to write; it is the one I feel compelled to share.
I don’t say that from a point of ego, but from a place of service. I offer this experience for the comfort I am told it brings others.
You see, I’d initially planned a book on a different topic altogether. Yet even as I began to outline that other title, something else kept gently nudging its way in: an experience I had some years ago. I resisted; it persisted.
I was reluctant to put my name to even a lightspiritual book. As a journalist, I had always kept my faith and work separate. I was trained to report a news story in such a way that you as a reader, viewer, or listener could take it on its merits; my personal opinions were deliberately sidelined.
I tied myself in knots trying to preserve my privacy in writing this book, as I was certain it would finish my career in journalism. (It still might.)...
The blind receive sight and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up.
-- Matthew, 11:5
Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.
-- Helen Keller
A middle-aged man, with a paunch, is sitting on a doctor’s examining table waiting anxiously for the doctor to return with the results of his latest examination.
The doctor comes in, looking solemn.
“I’m afraid it’s your body,” he intones.
I am that man. Surely Yeats did not have me or my body in mind when he wrote his immortal lines, “things fall apart, the center cannot hold,” but they are apposite, I’m afraid. Somatic entropy is icumen in.
I don’t want to bore you with a list of my various infirmities and debilities since I already regaled you with those woes in the very first essay in this series, which I wrote in December, 2017. I’m tempted just to write something along the lines of, “suffice it to say, they have all grown worse.” But I will resist that temptation if you will indulge me for a few moments in order to give you some specifics. Besides, as usual, I have an ulterior motive for mentioning some of them, which will shortly be revealed.
To begin with, I now list. That is, these days when standing or walking, I am no longer an orthogonal being. Instead, following my political proclivities, I tilt to the left. Generally, I am not aware of this...
These "columns" are reserved for community members who want to submit reviews, experiences or reflections. This review is by Margaret Coles who is already written in very lovely post some months ago. Thank you, Margaret!
A Review of Bonnie McEneaney's Messages: Signs, Visits, and Premonitions from Loved Ones Lost on 9/11
This is a story of events leading up to 9/11 and after. Bonnie's husband Eamon, died in The World Trade Centre. Bonnie tells the reader she was almost immediately
in touch with other 9/11 family members. They had many spiritual
experiences to share. They described that their loved ones were like her husband Eamon who had begun to feel in the summer of 2001 that he would die very soon.
McEneaney discussions also revealed that others felt their loved ones were trying to make contact from across the veil.
She says that many of us belong to organized religions where we are taught to believe in a Higher Power. Although this may be so, whenever there might be signs, we can be
doubtful. We may think it imagined, desired, or "perhaps I am not in
my right mind." We often need and want more proof, but this book offers more than just proof.
A good many denied these synchronistic events that it seems in
reading this, could not have been more convincing. Throughout the book
so much evidence is witnessed and experienced, one example: at the
memorial service, a thin white powder drifted down over two widows
seated together. They looked up but could not see where it came...
Lisa Smartt's excerpt about after-death communication comes from her book Words at the Threshold.
Dedicated to the memory of Dr. Adam Duhan.******************
Accounts of communication from the dying and the dead have been recorded throughout time and cultures. Our modern-day ac- counts now include this new twist: text messages. The following account sent to me by Debbie Ribar comes from her sister-in-law Joanne Moylan Aubé:
My father passed away last January while I was sitting out- side with my mom (miles from the assisted-living facility). My brother was by Dad’s side at this time, because Dad was breathing heavily and nearing the end of his life. He was not conscious. While I was sitting peacefully in my brother’s backyard, my iPhone made a noise similar to Siri’s beep- ing response. I looked at the phone and saw a text, which showed up as though I had written it. It said, “Was leaving heavily might be just wind and downy might be ready to go bad that I like pneumonia now maybe get tired I’m down I’m going to be around anymore.”
I freaked out and called my brother, who was as shocked as I was by this message. After reading it over and over, I determined it meant: “I am breathing heavily now
and might be winding down. Might be ready to go now. Feels like pneumonia. Maybe getting tired. I’m down and am not going to be around anymore.”
My dad has never texted or understood iPhones or technology and was clearly not conscious in the sense that we know. I don’t know if he had terrestrial help, or if...
Lisa Smartt shares an excerpt about after-death communication from her book Words at the Threshold. Dedicated to the memory of Adam Duhan.
Do not cry too long,
let that laughter of your love illuminate the skies,
for I will always hear you
— Automatic writing inspired by my father
When I first set out to do final-words research, I had no intention of writing about or researching afterlife communication; however, since people of all walks of life shared their stories of compelling synchronicities with me, it became clear to me that any discussion of words at the threshold would be incomplete without at least a brief look at these accounts. The ones I’ve included here reflect only a small portion of the stories shared with me. In fact, many more people experienced some kind of communication after death than I had ever imagined.
Bill and Judy Guggenheim’s After-Death Communication Project, which was founded in 1988, reported having received thousands of accounts of after-death communication. Julia Assante, in her book The Last Frontier, writes, “The percentage of people re- porting contact with the dead in surveys ranges anywhere from 42to 72 percent. Widows having contact with their deceased hus- bands can go as high as 92 percent. If the surveys had included children and deathbed encounters, which are extremely common, the percentages would have been even heftier. A whopping 75per- cent of parents who lost a child had an encounter within a year of the child’s death. But a sad 75 percent of all those who had encounters...
What if, one day, you opened your mailbox only to find a crisp and clean, beautifully colored postcard that included a heartfelt message addressed to you from someone you dearly loved but who had passed on into the unknown tomorrow?
Wouldn’t that just be crazy?
Your postcard’s communication would be one-sided (postcard pun intended here!) short and lovingly sweet. Its imagery on the other side of the card would certainly be visually stunning, maybe symbolically familiar but definitely heartfelt.
Don't you think such would excite your senses, invigorate your spirit while manifesting a healing vibration within your heart? How profoundly transformative and uplifting such an experience would be... if it were only possible.
So often we hear about and read about others experiencing signs and synchronicities that appear to demonstrate evidentially how the living spirit within each of us, that conscious part of our identity self, lives on beyond the human temple which has fallen away.
Are these persons merely gullible optimists or truly deluded automatons following the afterlife trend? Not only do both types, from atheist to fanatic, have access to a reality of higher spiritual truth, we all do.
You see, for tens of thousands of years humanity has been aware of both physical and sensorial signs around them that lead one to consider how alive the spirit world is around them. Ancient holy texts document such experiences; even modern day media discusses the many curious signs that our loved ones (and yes, our pets too) do live on in a different form in the next...
We are delighted to post this overview of after-death communication (ADC) by Bill Guggenheim, whose extensive research into ADCs has offered important insights in the field of consciousness studies.
© 2019 W.G.III.
Hello From Heaven! A new field of research ~ After-Death Communication ~ confirms that life and love are eternal by Bill Guggenheim and Judy Guggenheim was published by Bantam Books, New York, in 1996. We, the authors, founded, defined, researched, and named an entire new field of human experience that may be as old as mankind.
An After-Death Communication, or ADC, is a spiritual experience that occurs when someone is contacted directly and spontaneously by a family member or friend who has died. An ADC is a direct experience because no psychics, mediums, therapists, rituals, or devices are involved. And an ADC is a spontaneousevent because our deceased loved ones always choose when, where, and how they will contact us.
During our seven years of research, we interviewed 2,000 people, who were living in all 50 American states and the 10 Canadian...
— D. J. Enright or perhaps Julian Barnes, or was it Thomas Nagel? Possibly all three.
For me, death is the one appalling fact that defines life; unless you are constantly aware of it, you cannot begin to understand what life’s about. Only a couple of nights ago, there came again that alarmed and alarming moment, of being pitchforked back into consciousness, awake, alone, utterly alone, beating pillow with fist and shouting, “Oh no Oh no OH NO” in an endless wail, the horror of the moment. I say to myself, “Can’t you face down death?” Can’t you at least protest against it more interestingly than that? For God’s sake, you’re a writer; you do words. We know that extreme physical pain drives out language; it’s dispiriting to learn that mental pain does the same.
No, that’s not me talking. You should know that by now.
Any guesses? The title of this essay should give you a hint since it’s the title of a book he published about ten years ago.
OK, he’s English. Primarily known as a novelist. Winner of the Man Booker Prize and many other literary honors.
He’s Julian Barnes, and he has a dread of death.
The account above, which I’ve condensed from the original, is just one example of what Barnes, who is an avid Francophile, likes to call le réveil mortel – an awakening with a...
The first thing I remember was the urgent sound of a woman's voice. "I'm not getting a pulse!" she said. "I'm not getting a pulse." Though I don't remember actually seeing her, I turned in her direction and said, with some irritation, "Of course you're getting a pulse or I wouldn't be speaking!" But she ignored me and continued to talk about my pulse.
This made no sense. Again, speaking very slowly for emphasis, I corrected her, "You must be getting a pulse or I wouldn't be speaking." In fact, I said, I felt fine. Really good. Come to think of it, I'd never felt better, or more alive. I was healthy and whole, calm and together for the very first time in my life. Though I still couldn't see, I could hear everything - mostly the scramble of many voices talking all at once - but especially the tone of worry in the woman's voice. It didn't bother me.
Nor was I offended by everyone's refusal to listen to me or notice that I was OK. I let it go. I let everything go. It was easy to give up and be quiet, easy to surrender. I just slipped away, as if I was falling asleep without being drowsy first. I had no fear, no sense of alarm or panic. It was like being carried someplace that was inviting, comfortable, and safe - like my warmest childhood memories of being carried to bed by one of my parents.
There was that same sense of security, of being taken to a place where I could rest, and be cared for. Where I would be...