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Sometimes, I Blush
Home Arts & Entertainment
By: Carolyn Molnar Email Article
Word Count: 689 Digg it | Del.icio.us it | Google it | StumbleUpon it

  

Sometimes, I canít believe the words that tumble out of my mouth. It happens occasionally when I connect with a spirit thatís come for one of my clients Ė a few naughty phrases that slip out in the privacy of a one-on-one reading. "Did your father curse a lot?" Iíll ask, and get a nodding head in reply. But when off-colour remarks pop out when Iím serving at a Spiritualist church Ė yikes! A few blue words, and Iím red in the face.

Iíll never forget seeing in my mind a tall, good-looking man with wavy brown hair and a thick mustache. He wore a sleek black leather coat, and the first three buttons on his Hawaiian print shirt were open, revealing a well-toned chest. I described what I was getting to the congregation, but no one raised a hand to claim him.

Come on, I mentally spoke to the spirit. Give me some more information about yourself so someone can identify you.

Suddenly, I heard loud, thumping music. The fellow gave me a lascivious smile, then started shimmying and taking off his clothes. My jaw dropped. As he wriggled out of his shirt, he winked and showed me perfect six-pack abs. The guy couldíve stepped off the cover of a Harlequin paperback.

When he undid his belt and loosened his pants, I turned away. But you canít turn your back on spirit! He laughed at my embarrassment and whispered, Gene. I passed that name on to the group.

A young woman in the second row gasped. "Might that be Jean?" she asked, giving his name a French inflection.

"Possibly," I said, then cleared my throat. "Was he, uhÖ a stripper?"

The woman laughed. Jean stopped dancing when he got down to his G-string Ė thank goodness! Ė and I helped the young woman connect with a former boyfriend who had died last year in a car crash. Jean blew his girlfriend a kiss and, before returning to spirit, gave me another wink.

I blew out a breath, then paused to take a hearty drink of water. I had to do something to lower my temperature. Whew!

Another time I felt the presence of an older woman, and in my inner ear I heard mother. I described her as a bit rotund, with brightly painted nails and blonde hair out of a bottle. She passed into spirit from lung cancer in her late 70s, and chain-smoked unfiltered Camel cigarettes until the day she died.

I glommed onto a middle-aged fellow in the audience as if a flashlight were trained on his face; spirit was directing me to whom the message belonged. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, and a look on his face like heíd rather be cleaning a cat box than listening to messages from spirit. "I think this woman came for you," I said, pointing at him. "Are you alright with it?"

He shrugged. His wife, sitting beside him, giggled and elbowed him in the stomach.

"I feel this is your mother," I told him. "She says youíre expecting to be the last person in the world to hear from someone. Well, guess what? Youíre here, and so am I!"

I noticed my stance: right hand on my hip, left hand pointing at him. "Is this how your mother would stand?"

He nodded.

"Damn right!" I said, then caught myself and turned away, embarrassed. Oh my God, I thought, youíre not supposed to swear in church!

I canít remember what else I said to the fellow, but after the service I apologized profusely to the minister. She chuckled and said she understood. "Sometimes," she said, "even spirit makes me blush."

Carolyn Molnar is a Toronto based Psychic Medium and Spiritual Teacher. She has over 30 yearsí experience. She provides readings and also teaches others how to tap into their intuitive abilities. Her book, It Is Time: Knowledge From The Other Side, has made a real impact in how people understand intuition.

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