Sometimes I wonder if it would be simplier to just be a psychic reader.
Answer the questions. Where is the man? Where is the money? Where is the job? When will this happen? When will that happen? Give the answer, close the session, move on.
But here’s what I’ve watched happen — in myself, in others, over years of sitting with people.
The answer lands. The nervous system relaxes. For a moment, there’s relief. Okay, it’s coming. I’m going to be okay. The body settles. The breath comes back. And then — maybe a day, maybe a week — the fear returns. The doubt. But is it really coming? Am I really going to have what I want? And the cycle starts again. The searching, the reaching, the Googling, the asking. Looking for someone, something, to confirm what we’re hoping for. Or to explain why it hasn’t shown up yet.
This can be exhausting. I’ve watched it. I’ve felt it. It’s a loop that never actually resolves because it was never really about the answer.
The answer feeds the nervous system for a moment. It doesn’t nourish it.
There’s a difference.
I’ve seen many channels and intuitives over the years — some in person, some through video. People who bring through extraordinary information. Clear, accurate, sometimes stunning in their precision. But I noticed something. With some of them, I could hear the message and still not feel anything land in my body. The information arrived. But the love didn’t come with it.
Then I think about the Dalai Lama walking past me three years ago, his body supported by three people, radiating something enormous. Childlike. Unhurried. And I could feel it — not words, not a teaching, just the quality of his presence moving through the space like warmth through a wall. It changed the room.
He wasn’t delivering a message. He was the message.
And that’s when I understood something about my own work that I hadn’t quite named before. In the beginning, when I was learning, spirit was guided into my field by a teacher and used my words to speak. I was the instrument being played. That’s how many people understand channeling — you step aside, something comes through, the message gets delivered.
But that’s not how it works for me anymore. Over time, it has become a relationship. I didn’t step aside, I was brought in — my heart, my seeing, the particular way I hold space — these are all part of the transmission. When someone sits with me, they are held by the Divine, by Great Spirit. The whole space becomes the language — spirit, their soul, all the energies present, the questions they came in with and what lives underneath those questions that may not have words yet. And in that resting, that support, something in their system starts to settle. Because they were met by something they could feel even if they can’t quite name it.
That settling is the medicine.
You can feel the difference in your own life if you pay attention. Think about a time someone gave you advice that was technically correct but landed flat — your body didn’t respond, nothing shifted, you walked away with more words but no more ground under your feet. Now think about a time someone simply sat with you. Maybe they didn’t say much at all. But you left feeling different. More landed. More yourself.
That second experience — that’s what happens when presence does the work that information alone cannot do.
So when I ask myself why I can’t just be a psychic reader, the answer is simple. What I feel and am shown when I sit with someone goes so far beyond what words can carry. The words matter. But how someone feels in the room — in the field — matters more. If a person is relaxed, truly resting in something steady, they navigate their life differently.
That’s what I’m interested in. The answers are part of it — they always have been. But when they’re received inside a space where you’re truly held, they land somewhere deeper than your mind. The words settle into your body instead of feeding the next round of searching. And you can finally stop spinning long enough to feel your own ground again.
There is so much more to receive than just an answer. And you don’t have to go looking for it. You just have to be willing to sit still long enough to let it find you.
With love and blessings,
Susan