Living in my world is a constant trade off; sometimes conscious, sometimes not.

As soon as my foot hit the tarmac runway in the United States I could feel the pain emanating from all directions and it hit me like a punch in the gut. I could feel the blood vibrating under the soil, the angst of the land, the terror of those slain and the confusion of those who were still trapped on this plane. 

And I haven’t even gotten to the live humans yet.

Oppression, fear and desperation, all in the land of hopes and dreams.

At this point I am as fully warded as I know how to be; visualised protection, drawn symbols on my body, am wearing rocks and had made offerings to deities before leaving the UK. If it was like this when I was protected, how would it feel when if I let it slip?

I mean a girl has to sleep right!?

When I become overwhelmed like this I generally self medicate (rightly or wrongly I would like to thank booze right now for allowing me some sanity) but over a long period of time this obviously isn’t possible. What then happens is walls begin to form that block out all of the vibrations and energies from around me and allows me to have a semi normal life. I don’t need to isolate myself as much, I’m able to deal with larger groups of people and can have a conversation with a man without knowing all of his secrets.

And you know what, it was very freeing. 

I could actually be foolish.

I stayed this way for a while, turning my clairvoyance off and on when I was helping the dead and then one day I realised I had stopped smiling. I was thoroughly numb. Disconnected.

Helping souls move on is a very humbling, moving experience and I wasn’t feeling anything about it. More focused on helping as many as possible rather than the experience itself. 

I wasn’t honouring the dead, my ancestors or myself anymore.

I couldn’t feel love and love is my currency. It’s how I work.

I began the process of stripping back the layers bit by bit, and the thinner the layers became the more I realised how out of touch with my soul I had become. I clearly needed this for a time due to the things I had seen in the US but it’s time was over, mass graves or not.

After working on myself for a week and spending a ridiculous amount of time in Eric the Van out in forests I was feeling much more connected to the energies around me and to myself. My Allies were popping up more regularly and wildlife was drawn to me again. 


I could feel all that pain again, couldn’t cope with live people and could feel that sense of loss in my soul that has been there a while.

What a choice.

America continued like this for me depending on where I was and the surrounding energies – Ventura brought me back to myself, whereas when I focused on the Plantations in Alabama I was like a machine for a week. I can’t help anyone if I can’t function.

Then I got to Canada. 

I am on an island that is 3 miles by half a mile with a very, very active First Nations population. The first night was a little hellish as my energy was so low my protection was shoddy so everything dodgy was waking me up through the night, but after a week of sleep, homemade food and some journeying I am better than I have been since Thor died in March.

Funnily enough there is a dog spirit in the house that has definitely been helping, not Thor though. That guy is off saving damsels in distress.

This environment is relatively safe for me to have my walls down. There is still pain and turmoil but the love from the ocean, forest and wildlife here is balancing it out much more.

If I hadn’t stopped for a moment and recognised what was going on I would have simply kept on going and dug a very deep emotionless hole for myself.

Take a second. How are you doing?