“If he’s psychic, why didn’t he know that my wife was about to die in a car accident the following week?”
Like many straight-laced professionals, John had never considered the possibility that psychics were anything more than talented talkers. He had made his own way as a negligence attorney, going through daily dealings with people who were thrilled that none of their psychic faculties were functioning prior to their accidents; now they would reap the financial benefits of the outcome.
John is the consummate justice seeker, never willing to tolerate intentional violations of the law or common decency. Just recently, John became involved in a complex case involving a suicidal man who lied about his HIV status in order to purposely contract the illness from an openly HIV-positive woman he dated and then slept with. A kind of delayed euthanasia, if you will. But upon receiving his positive diagnosis three months later, he decided to sue her for giving it to him when he realized he’d, as he would tell his lawyer off the record, “rather stick around after all.”
John’s wife Lydia loved her husband dearly, devoting all of her time to being a stay-at-home mother to their son, Cody, now two years old.
Three weeks ago, John was at a lawyer-networking event in nearby Chicago for with a partner from his firm, Gerard, when he encountered a psychic who had been hired for the event. Unconvinced of course, but intrigued, John decided he would ask him about the status of the HIV-positive case, as it wore on his mind everyday. John entered the area designated for the psychic, approached the table and sat down.
“No cards or anything?” John opened, leaving the psychic smiling at him.
“I don’t usually use those unless it’s requested — I won’t need them for you.”
“Oh?” John was surprised.
“Your problem is on your face. Very strong energy there, relating to your work.”
‘Obviously,’ John thought to himself. ‘Most people are stressed out about work.’
The psychic went on:
“You are dealing with a couple? I feel a sexual relationship.”
“There’s been a strong betrayal here. The woman was betrayed. But not with another. Was she used somehow?”
John nodded, his heart beginning to beat slightly faster.
“She’s been ill–suffered for several years. I feel the illness on her. Her illness played a part in this relationship. I get the sense he is more the culprit here, correct?”
“Yes, absolutely.” John could not contain his excitement. “What do I do?”
“Nothing at all,” the psychic assured. “There’s nothing you need to do. Your matter will resolve itself.”
“What do you mean? It can’t…resolve itself. It’s my job to resolve it!”
“Don’t worry, you will.”
With that, the psychic welcomed the next guest into the room.
John was unsurprised at how vague the psychic had been with the advice. No doubt the advice was a ruse to get him to book a “real” appointment and pay substantially for it. Still, the man did get details — details he could never have known. But they weren’t helpful, and neither was his advice.
‘Do nothing?’ John kept thinking. ‘How ludicrous.’
The next morning when John got to work, Gerard called him into his office, beaming.
“You’ll never believe it, John! Not in a million years or more! The case is done!”
“What’re you talking about?” John answered quizzically.
“Here, look,” Gerard said as he clicked on an internet news video on his computer. It was a story covering the suicide of a local man with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Gerard went on. “You didn’t have to do anything after all.”
But that wasn’t the only news that day.
When John arrived home that evening, there was a message on his answering machine. It was from the Chicago Police Department and sounded urgent; he was asked to call back immediately. He had noticed Lydia’s car wasn’t in the driveway and thought she may have taken Cody grocery shopping or something. Now he was beginning to panic.
A week later, John made an appointment with the psychic from the networking event, whose business card he had only taken to be polite. John was devastated, depressed, and out for recourse. He hadn’t told the psychic was he was making an appointment, just that he wanted one as soon as possible.
John entered the psychic’s modest living room, holding the cash for payment in hand. The psychic asked him to be seated.
“Here!” John snapped and tossed the cash on the table. “Since that’s what it’s about anyway, right?”
The psychic was perplexed by John’s behavior.
“Uh…I’m not sure I follow.”
“Was it because I didn’t pay you extra at the event? Is that why?”
“Why what?” The psychic was beginning to get nervous. This client obviously had an agenda with this appointment to accuse him of something.
“You knew that idiot was gonna off himself,” John said, his voice beginning to break. “But it was so much less important.”
“John,” the psychic began calmly, “if you want my help, you’ll have to give me a better idea of what’s going on here.”
“My wife was killed. In a car accident. The day after that networking event. My son was in the car with her and ended up okay, thank God. He’s with my parents right now…I just don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you tell me about that? Isn’t’ that what you people do? I could’ve paid you more if that’s what it would’ve taken. I could’ve, and now it’s too late.”
After legitimacy has been determined for the client, the next hurdle is financial compensation. In the film Death Becomes Her, the character portrayed by Isabella Rosselini, purveyor of an anti-aging potion, explains her monetary approach as, “The sordid topic of coin.”
The psychic-client relationship, much like that of any therapist or doctor-patient relationship, is predicated upon a mutual understanding of cost-benefit. No reputable therapist or doctor suggests modes of treatment that will cause a client or patient to spend more than is necessary or advisable given his or her unique situation. For those who practice outside the realm of “Insurance,” the money spent depends on various factors: the client’s income, the practitioner’s credentials, the client’s needs as determined by the client and the practitioner respectively, and the practitioner’s reputation. As a psychic becomes more and more “in demand,” his or her rate (like any service provider) will increase to accommodate the demand in conjunction with the ever-rising cost of living. Unfortunately, as our culture is capitalistic, it would be unreasonable to expect any service provider not to raise the rate to meet demand. On the flip side, this inevitably creates the dreaded hierarchy of wealth affording the service and lack of wealth becoming less and less serviceable. And so the cycle goes…
In John’s case, the psychic had no perception of his wife’s accident, so it would not have mattered how much John was willing to pay. Information received from the higher dimension does not know ego or its accompanying external manifestation — materialism. The information itself is pure; the psychic is not and could never be, just like any human being. This is a difficult distinction for most mainstream people to make.
“I didn’t get any information about your wife, John. It wouldn’t have mattered what you paid me. I only receive what I’m meant to receive. The divine governs that; I’m just a messenger.”
“Then what good is being a messenger if you’re going to get the message too late, and sometimes not at all?!”
“Good question. The answer is out of my hands. What happens to us is always a product of free will, but the divine intervenes when necessary in ways we can not understand outside the spiritual realm. If someone can benefit from advance information, I can pass it along. If it will not help or will somehow hinder that person’s evolution on a soul level, I don’t receive it.
“You will have to accept that you weren’t meant to know about your wife’s passing, as it would’ve impeded your soul’s growth. I can tell you though that she’s still with you, all the time, and that it is part of your soul’s work in this life to deal with this tragedy to the best of your ability. That’s why suffering exists — to help us evolve.”