The Power Of The Path

Here is a strong belief of mine: that our whole lives are preordained, mapped out, fated, that there is a life contract we signed up too before we arrived in this human existence.  How does it work?  This is how I think it works:

Before we are born into this reality, the plan has been made.  Who your parents are, where on earth you will live, your nationality, your social status, your general health, your career prospects, how and when you will die.

So, from age zero to eighty-five (hopefully!), there will be a map.  Along with this map is the big stuff, the key pivotal moments in our lives where a decision is normally necessary and further to that, a learning curve, where our soul develops.  For example, first love, job, kids, marriage, the death of loved ones, accidents, illnesses, wonderful great achievements and so on.  How much do you want in one life?  How much did you ask for?  Only time will tell.

All these big events will have certain outcomes, which will greatly depend on how your personality deals with the big stuff.  Does it make you or break you?  Does it open the door to new opportunities or will it slam it shut?  How can your free will deal with it?

Dotted about, along this wonderful, exciting map is our soul group.  These are our family members, husband and wives, children’s, friends and enemies.  Yes, enemies.  They pop up again and again until we learn the lesson of how to deal with them.

How did I come to this conclusion?  I’ve had a sense of knowing about my path since I was a little girl.  Here are some examples:

The first profound experience I had of knowing about predestination was on a normal day, whilst sitting in the passenger seat of my sister’s car, driving along our local streets.  I was nineteen years old.  I glanced out of the window and saw a young man walking along, with his dog by his side.  A very peculiar feeling came over me.

“I’m going to marry that guy” I stated.  “what?” asked my sister.  “I don’t know why, or how, or what I am feeling, but I am telling you, I’m going to marry him, he is my future husband!”

My sister looked at me like I was crazy (I was getting used to these types of looks).  “What are you talking about, you don’t even know his name!  Plus, you are in a relationship with someone else” she said, laughing at me.  She was absolutely right, I didn’t know his name and I already had a boyfriend.  But ten years later, I married that guy.

This also happened:

When I was seventeen, I sat in the office of my first paid job since leaving school.  It was a local office job and I was grateful to have the chance of employment but I was very bored and in my opinion, underpaid!  I flicked open a copy of “Girl About Town” a little publication distributed at London Tube Stations when all the City folk flock out of their offices.  I went to the job section.  I could see the same job position I was currently in, but for about six thousand pounds more a year.  “I have to do this,” I thought.  Then I got that weird feeling again.  “I know my plan, this is my plan:

Get a job in the City of London to start my career off.  Then, try out Canary Wharf as it’s so exciting in that part of London!  After that, I will work in West London as it’s such a contrast to the City, more laid back and fashionable!  Once that’s over, I will probably be ready to have a baby so I will need to come back locally and get a safe, secure job, like in the public sector, healthcare or something.  In my 30’s I will have my family, then it’s time to start my own business.  Further to that, I will expand on the business and start writing material, articles, books etc on spiritual and alternative topics”

I had this thought and plan at seventeen.  This is what followed in reality, over a twenty-year period:

  • I got a job in the City of London

  • From there I went straight to Canary Wharf

  • From there I went to West London, working for a big fashion retailer

  • I worked relatively local after that, securing a job at the NHS – nice and secure!

  • Had my little girl, left work after a couple of years

  • Started my own business and started to write on the spiritual and profound experiences I’ve had along the way

So was I just very good at executing a well laid out plan or did I have an unbelievable sense of knowing I was on the right one?

I’ve also met people, people in my “extended” soul group.  Good and bad people.  The good people, I have an almost magnetic pull towards, I can normally tell very quickly that they are one of my group.  We share similar interests, have the same sense of humour, share passions and ambitions and we just connect.  The bad ones, they keep turning up until the lesson has been learned.  For my particular plan, these normally come as a narcissistic female.  I’m good at recognising her now.  I can see who she is before she shows her true colours so I can prepare myself.  She has popped up around 5 times, each time, stronger or weaker than the other unless I decide to put her firmly in place, I know she will keep coming back.

I know that all sounds a bit horrible, the enemy bit, but how do we learn if we don’t have these experiences?  Why do some people attract the same sort of boyfriend / girlfriend and “never learn” from their mistakes?  Once you take hold of the situation, that bad person will disappear.

Do I know what will happen in my future?  Yes – to a degree.  I’m still aware of my map on a personal growth level and using the law of attraction, it pretty much brings in what I expect it too, or what I desire it too.  What it doesn’t tell me is really bad stuff – that would not be good for my growth.  Plus, free will is what we are here to experience, we simply can’t know too much!

Do you know about your map?  Are you in tune with it?  The sense of knowing and feeling that something is right or wrong will normally tell you.  Always try to take each big moment as the learning opportunity it truly is.  To help you mature, expand, develop and get out of your comfort zone, because, let’s face it, not much interesting stuff happens there, does it?

Until next time,


life contract

Spirit Communication

A medium is a person who can link in with spiritual energies to receive information, evidence and validation of the spirits life as a human being.  A medium is primarily there to pass on messages of survival after death to the spirits friends and family.  There are different types of mediumship that can be practised: spiritual, physical, trance/channelling and healing.  In this article, I’m going to focus on spiritual mediumship.

Spiritual Mediumship

This is probably the most common type of mediumship and is widely practised all over the world.  This form of mediumship allows the individual to receive and deliver messages from Spirit in the following different forms:

Clairaudience: Clear Hearing

This is where the mediums strongest receptor is from hearing spirit, normally as an internal voice however some mediums can also hear physical voices outside of themselves.  For most mediums, they will receive the messages telepathically and converse with a spirit via thought.  If you are intuitive and have heard ringing or buzzing in your ears, this could well be a spirit trying to communicate with you clairaudiently.

Examples of clairaudience that I have experienced is being woken up by someone outside of me calling my name and the sound of vibrations buzzing all around my head.

Clairvoyance: Clear Seeing

Mediums who have strong clairvoyance can see visions and images very clearly in their mind’s eye.  Spirit will use a data bank of memories from the medium so that they can pull on these to try and interpret their messages.  If you are a highly visual type of person (strong imagination and a daydreamer) this is probably the easiest type of spirit communication for you.

Someone who is clairvoyant will probably have very active dreams and receive a visitation from a spirit in dreams.  They may also have precognitive dreams about earthly events (good and bad).

A very experienced medium will have a vast data bank of images, symbols and picture memories that the spirit can call upon to use during communication.

Claircognizance: Clear Knowing

These are inequitable, beyond doubt deep feelings of just knowing the information on something or someone.  Claircognizance is that gut feeling that should never be ignored.  Sometimes we meet people that appear to be very nice however something is telling us that this isn’t the case at all.  That’s our clear knowing telling us and we must always pay attention to these strong feelings.  It’s hard to put our finger on it, but sometimes we just know the truth of a situation and we can’t put our finger on how but we just do.

Clairsentience: Clear Feeling

This is when the medium can either feel a physical sensation (for example a pain in the chest if the spirit died of a heart attack) or to feel an emotion in connection to the spirit.  For example, if the spirit was very scared or anxious, the medium will suddenly begin to feel the same so that he/she can describe this to the sitter.

The medium will also be able to feel what the spirit was like as a person and accurately describe he or she’s personality to the sitter.

Empaths typically have strong clairsentience.  An empath is a person who can pick up energies and atmospheres from the vibes of people and places.  They are highly sensitive individuals who can feel peoples emotional pain.


Clairgustance: Clear Tasting

This is an unusual psychic phenomenon however is experienced by some mediums, myself included.  I have been aware of a taste, without putting anything into my mouth, which in turn evoked a memory of my childhood.  I was sitting at work on my computer when I suddenly got the taste of milky, sugary tea, but with the taste of the china cup that I only ever drank at my nan’s house when I was a little girl.  The taste was so strong and then so was the memory, there was no doubt what so ever in my mind that my nan was popping in to say hello to me!

As you have read, all the above are the five senses that human beings use every day of their lives.  A medium has finely tuned senses (and the sixth sense of course) so that they can receive information outside of what most people can physically see, touch and hear.  Mediums do this by tuning into a different energy vibration, I will go into more detail on how they do this and what it means in later blog posts.

For now, until next time!Sp

The Butterfly & The Feather

Signs from the other side can come in all shapes and sizes and are personal to all those who are open enough to receive. I’ve been receiving signs for years and I believe the reason behind this is because I specifically ask for them, I know when they are a sign and not just a coincidence and that I’m always open-minded in terms of what I will see, hear or feel.

The day after my grandad passed in 2005, I was in Japan with my boyfriend. If you have already read my blog post “The Date” it explains that I was given the exact date of my granddads passing approximately five months before, from my granddad’s wife who had died three years previously.

So, it was the day after that we were going to a temple to look at the beautiful buildings and Buddha. As you can imagine, my mind was so far away from feeling like a normal tourist. I was in terrible grief, disbelief, sadness, miles away from my family at a time when I just wanted to be around them, especially my mum. As mentioned in that blog post, I still went on my trip to Japan, even though my Grandad was gravely ill. He was a serving member of the Merchant Navy during WW2 and his love of travel had rubbed off on me, there was absolutely no way he would want me to sit at home in sadness whilst I had to chance to see the world, so we still went.

That morning at the Temple was such a mix of emotion for me. The calmness and the stillness of it, a real chance for me to reflect on the situation, to gather my thoughts amongst the beauty of it all, I was truly grateful for that. I was surrounded by unusual plants and flowers, steep steps leading up to tiny wooden lookouts over the hills, reds and golds, high humidity and the strange sound of crocking cicada’s.

As I strolled along the dusty footpaths, a thought of grandad popped up into my mind’s eye once again. He was gone; he really was gone from this Earth. At that very moment, I saw a flicker in my peripheral vision and my attention drawn to the most stunning butterfly I had ever seen. Not only was their wing covered in a tapestry of vibrant reds and blues, but it was also the sheer size of the insect that I just couldn’t believe. I had no idea that butterflies could grow to that size. I studied him for a while as he fluttered around me and I was filled with a warm glow as I had this inner knowing that somehow, he was a small gift from grandad.

As I started to walk on, he followed. Bouncing up and down, fluttering around my face, performing a little dance which felt it was just for me. The butterfly followed me for what seemed like ages and I said thanks to grandad when finally, he flew away.

Two weeks later at my grandad’s funeral, my mum showed me the flower arrangements, which included little fake butterflies all over them. I knew then that this was my sign for grandad and that when he wanted to communicate with me, he could come via a butterfly.

My nan’s sign has always been hearts and feathers. I’m fully aware that feathers appear to be the cliché of the A to Z of signs of the afterlife. But there is a very practical reason behind this. Feathers are light, catch the breeze easily and are soft and fluffy. They also stand out and are very easy to move, it doesn’t take a huge amount of energy from the spirit to manipulate a feather. Therefore, they are so widely used and why so many people find white feathers in the strangest of places. I have received many white feathers since nan’s passing, so I always associated them with her.

In 2016 I took my Reiki One Degree. Even though I’ve had spiritual “happenings” my whole life, it was the start of my Reiki journey that started to make me think and feel differently about pretty much everything in my life. I knew I was on an exciting threshold with this and potentially was about to begin finding my true calling, however, I was still filled with doubt. I had left my job a year earlier, after years of forging a career and studying professionally, I always thought I knew “who” I was even though the signs back then were pretty evident that I should be working with people on a personal level, not under the cover of the corporate world. But at this point I still felt that lack of identity and wasn’t sure if I was entirely on the right path, I needed a sign from my spirit team that the Reiki path was the right one.

I was pondering this very question as I took a walk with my little four-year-old daughter on a warm spring day, around May 2016. “Please give me a sign that this is my chosen path” I put out into the Universe and I waited.

As we slowly walked along the cycle track, a butterfly suddenly appeared and flew around our heads. I knew instantly that this was my sign and that I could connect my energy to that of the butterfly. I told my daughter this. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Watch this,” I said: “Butterfly, please come and land on my arm,” I asked. I must have sounded like a loon, but inside I just knew that I could connect to him. After a few attempts of the butterfly coming in close to my face, then fluttering off quite far but then drawing in again like he was attached to an invisible line to my hand, he flew straight up and landed quite contentedly on my forearm. I stayed completely still, as I felt the tickle of his little legs on my skin. “Mummy it worked!” shouted my little one in beautiful excitement.

Just then, the butterfly flew off and hovered around us once again. I was filled with so much joy inside about the fact the butterfly actually landed on me, coupled with thoughts of “well that was a coincidence! Was that just a fluke? How often do butterflies land on people? I need more verification!”.

I calmly faced the skies and said out loud: “Grandad, if this is you, land on Ariane’s head”. I knew this was a big ask, but I trusted my grandad. I told Ariane to stand very still and have lots of patience. She did exactly as I asked. We waited and waited as the butterfly hovered, flew away, came back, moved around our heads, in and out, in and out, getting closer to Ariane, flying away again, over her head like a tiny helicopter trying to make a landing. I willed and willed it to land on her head. Then it did. It landed on top of her beautiful brown hair and there it sat.

Ariane stood still with a look of pure elation on her face “is it there, is it there?” she said, almost like she was balancing a bowling ball on her head. I was speechless and was frantically looking around to show someone; however, it was just me, Ariane and our butterfly. I had a thought of taking a photo so reached into my handbag, but in doing so disturbed it, and off it flew. This didn’t disappoint me however, I didn’t need any proof of what happened, both Ariane and I saw it and that was enough for us.

As we walked on, chatting excitedly about what had just happened, we both felt a little sad that the butterfly had left. Just then, I saw the familiar red colours of the velvety butterfly wings on the pavement up ahead. As we approached, I reached for my mobile phone and turned the camera on. There, sitting next to the white feather, was our butterfly, our grandad, next to our nan. There was my sign, loud and clear.

My journey started on that day and I’ve never looked back.

It’s good to remember that our loved ones are always there, always listening, always ready to help, as long as we are always open and ready to receive. Start asking for signs and see what happens, be patient and you really will be amazed!

feather and butterfly

The Mystery Of The Post Man

This experience is one that still baffles me to this day, again, another HUGE coincidence that is simply unexplainable to some.

To be respectful of the family and person involved, I have changed the name of the individual that this blog post is about.

It starts on a summer’s day, June or July sometime around 9 or 10 years ago.  I was living in my flat and my brother-in-law Russ was over, using my computer to update and print his CV.  I had to pop out to pick up a parcel that had been redirected to the town post office, so I left my brother-in-law and told him I would be back in half an hour or so.

As normal, the queue for the parcel reclaim was massive and people were practically falling out of the door.  I made my way to the end of the line and decided to look at my phone, what else is there to do when you are waiting?

As the queue moved along, I fumbled in my bag to grab my little red slip and my debit card for ID.  I glanced up to see a man working behind the counter with bright red hair and a familiar face.

I recognised the man instantly like an old school friend from my primary years.  I say friend in the loosest context, I knew of him because he was popular for all the wrong reasons.  I shall call him John Smith.

I couldn’t quite believe that John Smith was working in a post office, a nice respectable, responsible job.  This sounds terribly judgemental as it had been at least 16 or 17 years since I had last seen him.  Obviously, a lot can change in that time.

Here is a brief history of my experience of John Smith: he was a very naughty little boy indeed and a naughty big boy too.  When I started at reception, John was 2 years above me.  His name was mentioned in whispers by my peers, the name John Smith sent shivers down your spine.  He was always in trouble, spoke to the teachers like he didn’t care who the hell they were or what the repercussions could be, was constantly fighting other boys, picking on girls, I was (without realising it) reading his aura and if he ever came near me I would freeze or move away.  I could sense that he was a troubled kid.  He was unpredictable and would rage out over the slightest of things.

I had one run in with him, I seemed to of got caught in the middle of him and another scary kid in my class (James – but James was a gentle giant and he liked me) and John Smith locked James into the wrong playground, I happened to be walking behind James and thought, well, this is the end of my life as I know it.   Thankfully before a fight could ensue, the teachers had sorted it out.

Anyway, I’m not quite sure what happened to John during secondary school, but I didn’t see him there much, actually, I didn’t see him there at all.  I’m not sure if he went.

When I met my boyfriend Craig at the age of 19, he knew exactly who John Smith was, as my boyfriend was a family friend.  He told me that John’s life had not been great, the trouble had certainly followed and led to other more serious stuff involving drugs etc, you get the picture.

Suffice to say, I hadn’t thought or talked about John Smith in years and years and years.  So here I am, standing in the post office parcel collection queue and there he is!  I have to say that I felt quite proud for him, that it seemed that he had turned his life around.

When it was my turn, I decided to say hello and ask him if he remembered me, I didn’t feel shy anymore and thought it would actually be nice to say hello.

So as he looked at me, I was just about to open my mouth when I realised, quite embarrassingly that he wasn’t John Smith at all, or was he?  I realised that it had been so long, that it may not be him, so the doubts crept in and before I knew it, he had found my parcel and I had left, without even saying anything.

As I walked back to my car I decided that it wasn’t him but just a very uncanny resemblance.

Once I got home to the flat I decided to tell Russ about it.  He also knew John Smith from years back.  I was still unsure of maybe if it was or wasn’t him.  Russ laughed when I told him and said “I can’t really see him working in the post office Tanya” and I had to agree.

My mobile phone then started ringing; it was Craig calling me from work, so I walked into the other room.

The conversation went like this:

Me: “hi”

Craig: “hi”

Me: “What’s wrong?  You sound funny?”

Craig: “I’ve just heard some really awful news”

Me: “oh my god, what’s happened?”

Craig: “You remember John Smith?”

Suddenly a cold chill descends upon me….

Craig: “He killed himself this morning”

Me: silence.

When I got off the phone, I walked into the room where Russ was working.

“Russ you won’t believe this, but Craig just called to tell me that John Smith is dead, he killed himself this morning!”.

To this day I will never ever forget how Russ looked at me; we both didn’t know what to say.

Now, I obviously know and can be certain that it was not John Smith working at the post office.  What strikes me as incredible though is, I hadn’t spoken about, saw, thought about, or had anything to do with him in so many years.  And the pull was so strong, the resemblance amazing!  I was so certain it was him and then on closer inspection started to doubt it.  The sheer fact that he was already dead at that stage, had only probably been gone a couple of hours, why had that happened to me?

As with all these experiences, I will always put them down to my spirit team giving me these little pointers to remind me, all is not what it may seem on this earth.

As for John Smith, I’m certain that he is now in a happier place, where his mind can finally rest from its troubles.

Until next time,


13…Unlucky For Some

Sometimes I see things I can’t explain and I do seem to “attract” unusual types of people.

One occasion stands out for me more than any other, because of the weirdness of it all and the weirdness that followed! So this story starts off around 12 years ago, it was probably 2004.

I was working in London City and had half a day in the office and had to catch my train home around lunchtime to get back to Harlow for an appointment.

I deliberately chose my carriage to try and maximise the chance of not having to sit next to another human being. After spending the morning inhaling a strangers chest hair during rush hour on the way to work, the prospect of an empty train carriage was pure bliss let me tell you! I could read my book without having to listen to anyone else’s one-sided mobile phone conversation or smell second-hand lunch food – hurray!

I was successful in my task and silently punched the air as I sat down in my seat.

So we pull away from London Liverpool Street, I open my book and breath in, feeling relaxed, knowing that everything is right in my little world and I can enjoy 45 minutes of “me” time.

At the next stop, Tottenham Hale, I look up as we pull into the station and notice one lady get onto the carriage that I’m sitting in. My heart doesn’t fall here because there are plenty of empty seats in this big old carriage, so, she can go wherever she likes can’t she….but she doesn’t? The woman decides to sit down next to me, which is an incredibly un-English thing to do I have to say. My awkwardness metre is about to go off the scale.

Now my mind is filled with questions such as “she’s got all these bloody seats that are empty and she sits next to me invading my personal space?”…or “what the hell is she doing? What if she is a psycho killer or something?”. By the way, I do need to warn you that once you get familiar with my blogs you may notice that in the past I have been a little over dramatic with my thoughts…this is something I’m working on.

As we pull away from the station I put my head down and resume with my reading. But you know that isn’t going to happen, don’t you? Before I tell you about the conversation we have, let me describe this lady.

She is dressed eccentrically. So to me, that’s, long skirt and blouse (colourful), nothing really matches, massive earrings, strange shoes. She has jet black hair and it’s very short. Big wide eyes, a friendly face.

“Hello!” she says with the enthusiasm of a friend I haven’t seen in years. I don’t need to explain my internal dialogue at this stage; you can imagine what I’m going through.

“Hello” I say back (meekly).

“What a lovely day! I’m just on my way to visit my brother in Cheshunt” says strange lady, whilst I think to myself (way too much information but great she’s getting off in a couple of stops!).

So, from this point until Cheshunt, this woman decides to speak to me non-stop, I really don’t have to contribute anything apart from a few yes’s, no’s and head shakes. She is as I would say in my hometown “on one” with this conversation and I have to be honest, I did question her mental health a few times during this whole experience. However I have to say, she seemed incredibly “with it”.

So what’s the point of this story in this blog? It’s what’s she said to me, during the 15 minutes or so we sat together, that struck me as unusual. This is what she said that stood out (amongst other stuff):

“I’m going to visit my brother in Cheshunt. His house is a number thirteen and my brother and I are two of thirteen kids! My birthday is on the thirteenth, my mum and dads wedding anniversary is on a thirteen. My brother’s favourite number is thirteen and so is mine. So, a thirteen isn’t unlucky is it?”

“Erm, no, well I suppose it is for some?”

“No! It’s not unlucky! Number thirteen is lucky, remember that, number thirteen is your lucky number too!”.

Then, we pull up to Cheshunt, she says goodbye and gets off the train.

I just sat there and thought, what the hell has just happened? What was that even about? Who was that woman and was she even real? It was just so extraordinary.

I told Craig when I got home and was met with the response “so you saw a nutter on the train, how is this different from any other day?” (he was right, in ten years of commuting I had seen a man shouting “God is death!” and hitting a baseball bat against the window, an albino elf like human being with translucent eyes staring at me when I awoke from a nap on the tube and a man in a tracksuit being chased by two men in suits with rubber gloves on, to name a few). So it was brushed off as nothing.

But the story doesn’t end there.

A couple of weeks later, myself, Craig and our friends went to a local charity event in Hoddesdon. It was a casino night where everyone gets dressed up and can gamble, all in the name of charity.

I had never been to one of these nights before, in fact, I had never been into a casino before, I didn’t have the first clue how to play Roulette or BlackJack.

But as the vino flowed, so did my confidence and after watching the Roulette table for a bit, I decided to give it a go.

So it’s simple really isn’t it, you buy some chips, you put your chip down on a number or colour, the table is spun and hopefully the little ball will land on your colour or number for you to win some chips back. Losing bets are swept away and with this game, every time you won, you also received a small bottle of beer.

I start off tentatively but appear to be on a winning streak. The small bottles of beer are stacking up one by one (much to Craig’s satisfaction). I’m finding that this is an incredibly enjoyable pastime (but also having moments of “oh my God am I a gambler in waiting?” – yes that’s those overdramatic thoughts again).

The night is drawing on and it feels like I’m at the table for ages. My friends are coming over and applauding my Roulette skills and Craig doesn’t seem to care but I feel he is silently impressed.

Before long, I look up to see only a few of us left at the table with chips. So I continue, collect some more beer bottles and then suddenly see that there is me, and one other woman at either end of the Roulette table.

She’s eyeing up my beer bottles and I can see she has an impressive stack herself. She’s also checking me out, I can tell. The woman is about 40 years my senior and I reckon she has had her fair share of charity casino nights under her belt, there is no way she is going to let this little twenty-something novice win the prize. And behold the prize! A giant stuffed adorable dog. I wanted that dog quite badly, but so did she.

So what to do? She had a couple of chips left. I had a handful. It was time to choose.

I decided to make a bold move. I needed to clear this woman out.  Immediately at this point, the black haired woman from the train came into my mind’s eye. The number thirteen in bright lights all around me. Another one of my “moments of clarity” and suddenly I knew why that stranger was important.

I placed all my chips on Black, Thirteen.

“Bold move Tanya,” says Craig from behind me, the woman smirks and places all her chips on the table. It is do or die for us both.

The Croupier spins the wheel and we wait….and wait….until….

The little ball rolls and rolls and finally stops, on Black, Thirteen.

My opponent smiles at me through a death glare and my friends are cheering. I’m in a state of quiet shock that I’ve just won a roulette table on my first ever attempt.

The gentleman who handed me my prize asked me if I worked as a Croupier. I found this highly amusing and told him, no, this was my first go.

“What?!? I have to say in all my years I have never seen anybody work the table like that, congratulations!” (although his choice of words did conjure up images of me pole dancing in Browns, I was touched by his kind words!).

So what does this all mean? Was this just another highly strange, but highly real “coincidence”?

I mean, it’s not as if I was gambling in a Las Vegas casino and had the chance to win about 3 million quid, was it? I won a stuffed toy dog and about 15 bottles of out of date beer.

If this woman on the train was sent to give me this amazing message, that prompted me to put all my chips on Black Thirteen and win the table, it seems a little “far-fetched” doesn’t it? It’s not exactly life-changing.

I don’t think this woman was a spirit; she was a normal human being. But I do think that she loves to talk to people and that she loves telling her thirteen stories to people. So on that day, on my way home, she chose to tell me. But, I do also think she was meant too.

I believe my spirit team wanted to prove to me yet again that mysterious things can happen if we open ourselves up to it. That there is so much more at work that we can’t see.

Or maybe it was just purely a coincidence….but if so it will be one that I will never ever forget. I’m starting to stack up quite a few of them now!

Thanks again for reading and I’m looking forward to my next post already!

Please feel free to comment as I would love to hear what people make of this…



The Date

So fast forward three years after Rosemary’s death, to 2005. It’s a sunny May Sunday morning; I’m now moved out of the family home, having a lazy Sunday lie in, comfortable in my flat that I live in with my then boyfriend. Those were the days before I had a child waking me up at 6.30am….so I could wake up and then choose to go back to sleep…oh what bliss!

I remember being in a dozy state of sleep, the sun shining on my face, beautiful and relaxed…until I hear that voice again. The voice that sounds like me…but isn’t. She tells me to wake up, just like before. But this time she gives me some more information:

“Tanya, WAKE UP! September 15th….September 15th……REMEMBER September 15th”.

Just as before on the night that my nan died, I wake up with a start. There was no presence this time except an overwhelming feeling that the date of September 15th was extremely significant and that the person telling me that, was my nan, Rosemary.

I grabbed my diary and jotted down the experience. I was very certain that I must write this date down so that if something happens, people would believe me. I then had a think about what it could mean and came up with these scenarios:

1)       I could get engaged (yeah – chance would be a fine thing!) but hey, he could ask me. (for the record I asked him on leap day 2008, but that’s another story entirely!).

2)      I could win the lottery…..???

3)      Job offer…..

So these are all good things, then I think perhaps it’s not such a good thing. In the summer of 2001 I had a very vivid dream that I was in a large city with my family. Bombs had exploded and the tall skyscrapers were falling on all the people. I was running through the streets, with dust and mayhem and terror everywhere. A few months later, I watched in horror the atrocities of 9/11 play out on my TV screen…remembering every detail of my dream a few months before.

Another terrorist attack? It could be a warning. Or…someone could die. It could be the date of someone’s death. I didn’t want to think about that too much so I closed the book and decided to not worry, only time would tell.

And time did tell. Because the following month, in June, my grandad (Rosemary’s husband) began to get sick. Grandad Frank had thyroid cancer about 10 years previous and was in remission and doing ok, no major health issues, or so we all thought.

I know everyone loves their grandad but I can’t tell you enough what a fantastic man he was. He was tall and strong, big hands, wide kind eyes, loved a hat, sang and danced and joked around continuously. He had many friends and was well respected by everyone who met him. My nan’s passing was a blow to him, but he had managed to move on with his life and get himself on holiday a couple of times and spent time with friends and family. He had turned 81 and the general consensus was that he would live until 100!

But, he started to get unwell. He lost the use of his legs; he just collapsed out walking one day. Something was wrong, very wrong. Over the summer he was cared for by family members however his condition was deteriorating and he ended up in hospital in the August of that year.

During this time, I kept thinking about the date I was given and it was dawning on me that this could be the date that he might die. I would think to myself “is nan telling me that this is the date she will meet her husband again?”.

I was in a state of worry because I was due to fly out to Japan about 2 weeks before September 15th and I would be there on this date. It’s a trip we had planned to visit Craig’s brother who was teaching English out there. I was concerned that if this date was in fact for grandad, then I would not be there, I would be the other side of the world.

In the August that grandad was admitted into the hospital, unfortunately, a scan had revealed that cancer had come back and had gone to his bones. It was devastating news, there was nothing they could do for him, it was a matter of keeping him comfortable.

Frank’s personality became a shadow of his former self. He had lost the twinkle in his eyes. He began to change physically to have the look of someone with cancer. I don’t have to describe that, those that have seen a loved one at the end of cancer know this look.

We tried to keep his spirits high, especially my mum who would make him special lunches to take into the hospital and I remember me and my sister rubbing his legs with talc to get the circulation going and I remember him laughing at that.

The most important thing he wanted more than anything was to get out of the hospital and go home and stay at my mum’s house so she could look after him. So she made it her absolute mission to do this before he died. This sounds easy – it’s not. You have to sort out forms, resources, hospital beds, transportation, medicine applications…it was incredibly stressful however her determination was infallible.

So, it was the day before I flew to Japan. Grandad was still in hospital as he hadn’t yet been “released”. By this stage, I was pretty sure that dream prediction was for him. So, I went to visit him after work to say goodbye, for what I knew and felt was the last time I would ever see him alive. Should I have even gone to Japan, I hear you cry? Yes, because he would not have had it any other way. Frank had travelled around the world in the Merchant Navy and he would not have had me miss that trip.

When I saw grandad in that hospital bed, I could clearly see that his health had declined considerably from three days previous. This is what I wanted to say to him:

“Grandad, you are dying. I’m not going to see you again after today. I’m so sorry that this illness is taking you and that you have so many more years you want to enjoy because you are full of life and I know how much you LOVE life. I don’t want you to be afraid, because all the people that you have ever known that have ever loved you, are going to be there when you pass over. They have known about this time well before we did and have been preparing it for you. Don’t ever be fearful of what happens when death comes, because it’s a place with no fear and all you earthly, physical pain will be gone. I want you to know that even though I won’t be there when you pass, that you will be in my heart and I thank you for being such a wonderful influence in my life, I love you so much”.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t speak because I was so shocked at his sunken face and protruding cheekbones, shocked at how his head looked too big on his skinny body. He didn’t speak either. His eyes said it all to me. So I kissed his cheek, said goodbye and left the room. I walked down the hospital corridor with tears streaming down my face shouting at myself from inside at my pathetic weak young stupid self for not telling him all those things that I wanted too.

After that, I went to my parent’s house and spoke to my dad (Frank’s son-in-law), without my mum there. My dad was concerned that mum would not get grandad home before he died.

“Listen to me, you will get grandad home. You will get him home for only two nights. Then he will die on September 15th

“That’s almost two weeks away…how do you know the date, Tanya?”

“Just trust me dad, but don’t tell mum please”.

We flew to Japan and had a truly unforgettable experience. I tried to keep in contact with home as much as I could, but I’m not ashamed to say that I found my holiday a release. I got lost in the magic of Japan, the lights, sounds, smells, the vast difference of the culture compared to my own, the stunning gardens, lively festivals, the serenity of the parks….the funny and quirky people I met, the food and strangeness of it all.

We chatted, drank and ate until the early hours every night…I lost track of dates and times. I went to bed one night towards the end of the holiday, after another great night out. Russ’ apartment was tiny, and Japanese tiny is TINY. Myself and Craig were asleep on the floor (it wasn’t luxury accommodation, but at that age, I didn’t care, however, I’m pretty sure that was the start of my lower back problems!).

I fell asleep and was woken up by what felt like a tall man, standing at the end of my feet. I could make the outline of his shoulders. I was scared and did my usual, cover over the head and try to go back to sleep.

The next morning, when I woke I realised that Russ had his work suit hanging up over the window…so that must have been my “man” ghost! Phew for that. We had a coffee and started getting ready for the day ahead.

Russ had a landline phone in his apartment and it rang just as I was coming out of the bathroom.

“It’s your dad Tanya,” said Russ, handing the phone to me. I knew in my heart he would only be calling for one reason.

“Sorry Tanya, grandad died last night. We got him home for 2 nights, just like you said”.

I was shattered. I instantly wanted to be with my family.

After I had spoken to my mum, I put the phone down and the boys made sure I was ok.

“What’s the date? Bloody hell!! I was so close on the date! It’s September 16th today!” I said.

Craig looked at me then said, “We are 9 hours ahead of England Tanya…….your grandad died on September 15th, English time”.

In my shock at my granddads passing, I had forgotten about the time difference.

That day, we visited a temple. It was a very quiet and spiritual place.

As I was walking around the temple, I kept thinking about my grandad and prayed that he would give me a sign that he was ok. Not long after asking for the sign, I received it in a form of the biggest and breathtaking butterfly I had ever seen. It fluttered around me and followed me for ages as I walked along the paths of the temple. To this day, my grandad uses butterflies as his sign for me and I’ve had some amazing times when he has come to say hello.

Grandad also visited me one night when I got back home from Japan. I was lying in bed before I fell asleep and felt him stroking my arm. I often feel spirit stroking my face, very rarely on the arm, but this was clearly different energy and a week or so after that, I visited a medium who confirmed that he had been to see me and was stroking my arm (I didn’t tell her what had happened).

So, I guess what I learnt from the whole experience is this:

–          When I “hear” that voice, I need to listen and record any messages it gives me. I can say that I have only ever heard it twice in my life, never heard it since that morning in May.

–          Our spirit family/soul group are very aware of what is coming up for us in our Earth time.

–          Always try and tell someone that is dying that you love them, no matter how hard and emotional you find it. Just tell them!

Why did she give me the date? I have wondered this many times. I feel that it was for two reasons. To let me know that they were waiting for Frank, they knew he was getting sick and that his time on Earth was drawing to a close.

I also feel like my spirit team wanted to validate yet again to me, that there is life after death and that it’s another experience for me to collect to try and prove to others that this very much is the case.

Thanks for reading!

Tanya xx

Rosemary’s Last Goodbye

In 2002 my dear nan died at the age of 78. I was 21 years old and I had no idea that her death would leave such an impact on me, in more ways than I could imagine. Before I tell the story, I would like to point out that my nan apparently had mediumistic gifts, however, this was something that was never talked about. Sadly, I only found this out after her death. Nan’s name was Rosemary.

It’s hard to know exactly how to feel when you have spent the last few days, watching someone you love slip away from a very long and drawn-out process, putting yourself in their shoes (I thought a lot at that time about what her reality was like, was she lucid? Did she know exactly what was going on?), and in the shoes of those very closest to her, her children and her husband. Rosemary’s lungs were filling up with fluid and giving her a death that the anti-smoking campaigners love to scare you about. Truth is, if you smoke twenty a day, for most of your adult life and are unlucky, chances are, you probably might go that way…or you might not. Unfortunately for Rosemary, it wasn’t a quick heart attack. It was emphysema. She was one of the strongest women I knew and was having a full on Jedi style battle with the grim reaper every day, for weeks on end, she was not giving up without a fight.

On the day of her death, my sister and I had left my mum (her daughter) and my dad and my granddad at the hospital whilst we came home around 9ish to get some sleep. We were both exhausted and just wanted to go to bed, but also in that state of limbo, knowing that our Nan’s time on this earth plane was getting shorter.

We both went upstairs around eleven, me in my room and my sister in her bedroom that was next door to mine. Those were the days when I lived at home with my parents, where all of my most precious possessions were cooped up with me in my little room.

I closed my eyes and expected sleep to take forever, it didn’t, and I was gone instantly. It felt like I had been asleep for hours, only to be rudely awoken, by what I can only describe as the sound of my own voice calling my name.

Yes, I heard my own voice call me, externally, in my room: “Tanya, wake up!”. Just like that. Let me stress, I was not dreaming. This was very very different from a dream. The clarity of it, to this day, was breathtaking. The voice was direct, my eyes suddenly opened and were wide and alert, not even drowsy or tired, literally, I was called and I sprung into action. So I was awake, after hearing that voice, and then I started to feel. Bear with me on this, as I now need to try and put into words one of the most remarkable experiences of my entire life.   I had an instantaneous “knowing” that Rosemary had just passed over on to the other side….and she was in my sister’s bedroom. I knew Karley was fast asleep and had no idea that my Nan was with her, watching her as she slept, a quick goodbye to her lovely granddaughter. I felt Nan’s energy move, along the hallway and into my room. At this point, to tell you that I was scared is an understatement. As profound and amazing this experience was, I have to admit that I was petrified as the feeling of knowing that my Nan was there, in ghost form or whatever you would like to call it, well, it freaked me out like nothing has ever done. So I did what all aspiring mediums would do, I put the covers over my head and closed my eyes. She was there, in my room, I know that if I had looked I would have seen her as clear as an alive human being walking around. I cannot tell you how disappointed I am now at myself for not looking. But you need to understand that I was taking in this experience and had a lot of emotion going on all at the same time.

I felt my Nan’s love and her goodbye. No words were needed. The feeling I had told me enough. It was like a telepathic communication, I knew with a certainty that I’ve never been able to obtain since, that she was there to tell me she had died. Then she gave me the most beautiful present. She gave me a little glimpse into her new world. As she said goodbye I felt the feeling from the spirit world, and it was the most powerful yet peaceful feeling of love blended with light and knowing, and safety, where no fear could ever exist. The kind of warmth and brightness that a moth will flutter too, the kind of place that had she of asked “Tanya would you like to come too?” I would have quite happily gone and left all of my earthly connections behind. The only feeling that compared to that was the one I got once she had left as it was just as strong but the polar opposite of what I had just experienced.   Darkness, cold, my room, sharp and clear reality. Matter, material matter, earth matter, human matter. The difference between these two feelings was enormous. Light and dark, cold and warmth, ying and yang, however, you want to term it – what she gave me was an insight into the spirit world and I am so grateful and thankful for that, as she has certainly eliminated any fears I ever had about dying.

Once I felt her energy leave, I pulled the covers from my head and quickly scrambled for the bedside light. I had to know the exact time; I had to know when she passed. I switched on the light, shoved my glasses on and squinted at the clock. 1.48am. Then I looked at my phone. “Dad’s going to call me” just popped into my head. Before I knew it, I was shouting out to my sister. “Karley wake up!”.

I heard her muffle my name “what’s wrong?”.

“Nan has died. Dad is just about to call us now and tell us.”

“What? How do you know?”

“She was just here! He is just about to call me….” I was cut off by the phone ringing.

“I’m sorry Tanya, she’s gone” came my dad’s voice.

“I know dad! What time? What time did she pass?”

“About 1.45ish,” he said.

The next morning, when I saw my mum, I could not believe how this whole agonising process had physically changed her. My poor mum had aged about ten years; the grief had wrapped its arms around her and consumed her. I told her about my experience, and then she told me about hers. That’s what’s amazing about spirits and the intelligence they have, as when my Nan was visiting me, and my “inner voice or spirit guide” was calling my name, so was my mums. She was the only one at my Nans bedside and had then fallen asleep. As Nan passed away, my mum was also alerted to awaken, just as I had been. She also felt the warmth, the love and light, she described the same breathtaking feelings. What Nan, the “spirit” Nan had done was pretty incredible. She was able to connect her spirit to my spirit, to my mum’s spirit so that at her exact time of death, both mum and I were awoken and experiencing the same thing but in our own individual environments. We both agree that we were so lucky to have felt what we did and to now have a knowing that the spirit world really is a place of such beauty and above all, such love.

This was really the start of my journey. I feel blessed and privileged that at a young age, I found out that when you die, it is not the end. I know there are people reading this that will try hard to piece together the logical and scientific explanations of what I experienced. That is perfectly fine because in this life, you walk your own path and you need to be guided and trust your own experience, you don’t have to believe what people tell you. I’m at peace with that because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when we die, our soul leaves our body as energy and joins a different place, one that our human minds find incredibly difficult to access. But….its there.

Rosemary did visit me again, and that’s the second part of my story which I will post soon!

I’ve loved writing about this, because it has taken me back to one of the most special times in my life and I’m so grateful that nan decided to share it with me, however, I don’t think I could ever do it justice, as it really was too beautiful to put into words.

Tanya xx


The Journey Begins


Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton