I teach all of my psychics that we are biological. If an Olympic runner has a cold or just found out that their dog needs surgery or it's raining terribly, they can't do their best performance. So, why do we have these expectations that psychics are on all the time?
This past week, I have had two emergency exorcisms. The first was for a staff member of mine at The Otso Salon, where she needed emergency help because the entities attacking were getting worse. The second was a client of mine whom I've had for a long time, from my personal website bookings.
This past weekend, we are into my second weekend of performing CATS (yeah, an odd side hobby to have as an exorcist and psychic trainer). This has been amazing in getting me back into fighting shape and has given me a sense of community and artistic expression, all really important things for psychics to get.
My family from Maui and Houston came in to watch me perform, for which then we needed to spend copious amounts of time to refill our family and support network cups. Lastly, my daughter has needed my fatherly advice and support in the huge changes of her life going into grad school.
All of this has... given me a cold. Not a viral one, by any means. A psychic one. Although in my Dean of a Performing Arts School days I could power through and continue doing 40 more days of 12-16 hour days, I am incapable as a psychic.
Today, I was supposed to meet with a regular client. She is wonderful, giving her mentorship and spiritual counseling, and psychic readings. When I connect to the divine, to the veil, I sit there and think, "Man, I want a nap," and I'm not a napper.
Embarrassment washes over me, knowing I have to cancel. "Suck it up!" I tell myself. And as much as my mind and constitution and my work ethic driven by my Capricorn Rising tells me to, the output of re-homing entities, patching up clients wounded from possession, socializing with family, supporting my kid, running an academy, doing promotional work on podcasts, feeding myself, trying to date and be present for my boyfriend, and to support marketing efforts for my private practice, while jumping 5 feet in the air and lifting 6 women in the most physically demanding role in CATS, I reach out to the veil and I feel nothing.
Many newer psychics may jump to a doomsday thought if they can't feel the veil, or if the connection to their spirit guides or can't connect psychicly as a "I'm broken." Sweetie, you aren't broken. You're tired. You are burnt out.
"But I can push through being burnt out!"
Not as a psychic you can't. What do you need? Self-care. That frivolous use of time where you focus on yourself so the energy of other things can fill back up your mana reserves. Being in nature, reading a book, staring at the ceiling.
I still have to teach tonight, and thankfully I don't have to use my senses to teach. I can be as plain as a muggle, as psychic as a potato to teach these classes. They don't get the teacher who anticipates questions nor notices when they are losing focus so I tell a joke or anecdote to pull them back in. They get an average, plain, hotdog bun of a teacher, ready to dish out the info I hold but nothing more, and you know what? That's ok.
Purpose to all this journalism? To remind you that even crazy talented or sensitive psychics go blank. It goes quiet. It doesn't mean you're broken, cursed, or there is some spell that needs to fix you. You just need to recover from a simple cold. One you've given yourself from your energetic output. Stop running Olympic runner. Pause, eat some pasta, hug a puppy, and forget about the veil for a minute. Sit comfortably in the self-care of the mundane and your connection to the divine will repair. Fix the plain you and the spirit you will prosper.
As below, so Above.
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