A-Z of weird experiences

In June 2005, a few of us organised a conference called 'Developing Perspectives on Anomalous Experience'. A mere four and a half years later a book containing the papers presented at the conference has finally been published.

Topics covered include psychic phenomena (like telepathy and precognition), hauntings and apparitions, hypnosis, out-of-body experiences, alien abduction experiences, and even the kinds of experiences people report in seances. Contributors are academics from around the world.

It's hard to pick out a favourite chapter, but I'm particularly proud of the index. It took Rachel and I ages to do that. It's in alphabetical order and everything!

The book is called Anomalous Experiences, published by McFarland, and is available from Amazon.

Candid classic

I recently re-discovered this mildly amusing demonstration of conformity on YouTube:



Apparently, leading social psychologists Stanley Milgram and Philip Zimbardo were both big Candid Camera fans. Milgram went on to conduct ethically questionable experiments that demonstrated the conditions under which we obey authority. Zimbardo's famous Stanford Prison Experiment had to be halted early because participants became so distressed at being required to role-play prisoners and guards in a mock prison.

At least Allen Funt, creator of Candid Camera, had the decency to just show people looking a bit silly in a lift.

A piece of cake

Wow, a full month since I last blogged! But it doesn't mean I've not being doing anything, just because I haven't got round to blogging about it. In fact, I've begun to wonder about our need to tell others about what we're up to through blogs, twitter and, my personal favourite, Facebook. Why do some of us have the need to update friends and strangers with our latest activities, even if it's just to say that we're feeling tired or that we're looking forward to eating a piece of cake?

Anyway, Christmas and New Year were both great (thank you for asking). The big decision we made on returning to the homestead (i.e., the flat) was that we were going to move south. As is often the case with decisions like this, we had probably made the decision some time back, but now was the time for action. We gave our month's notice on the flat (i.e., the homestead), so we'll be upping sticks at the beginning of February. We haven't got a house to move to yet, but Rachel's parents have very kindly said we can stay with them until we get somewhere. So if anyone knows of a house for rent in the Oxfordshire region, you know what to do...

Anyway, I'm tired. Where's that cake?

Inner peace? There's an app for that

Those of you with an iPhone will know that you can get an app* for pretty much anything. But did you know you can now achieve inner peace by way of your iPhone?


You didn't? That's because you probably don't get occasional emails sent to you by the Chopra Center. It seems that Deepak Chopra (he of the cheap night out) has released a stress free app to help you calm down in between Facebook updates. But the name is the only thing about it that is free. At £5.99 it's one of the more expensive iPhone apps.

Oh, you can also use your iPhone to help you with your cosmic ordering (which I just know you're all trying now). And it's not just any cosmic ordering app, it's Noel Edmonds Cosmic Ordering app. Yes, it has The Edmonds seal of approval. Compared to Deepak's offering it's a snip at just £1.19.

Personally, I prefer Boggle.

*For the uninitiated (mum, dad) an 'app' is an application, or piece of software, that you can download and install on to your phone from the iTunes App Store. There are now over 100,000 apps available for the iPhone!

But is it art?

Saw this on the Derren Brown blog:

rotating kitchen from Zeger Reyers on Vimeo.

It struck a chord as I was reading and writing about creativity...

Talking of pillows...

In looking for the image of the guy sleeping for the previous post, I discovered a whole load of bizarre pillows you can get. For example, the happy looking lady in the picture on the right has on a wearable pillow that could mean you would never lose your pillow again, no matter where you were! Note the matching bow-tie.

A little more subtle is a pillow that has the words "Good Morning Sweetheart"
embroidered in reverse on its surface. This becomes imprinted on your face as you doze, meaning you can bid your partner good morning without having to open your eyes (or mouth).

Perhaps more disturbing are the variety of pillows that come in the shape of body
parts (don't worry, we're going to keep it clean). First up is the lap pillow, in the shape of a woman's kneeling legs. Pay no attention to the fact that the woman on whose lap you are sleeping has had her torso severed from her lower limbs. That will just give you nightmares.

For those of you who prefer to have an
arm round you while you're sleeping, there's the boyfriend's arm pillow. I suppose it doesn't have to be a boyfriend's arm. It could easily be a husband's arm, a girlfriend's arm, or a stranger's arm. Whatever gives you the most comfort. You could even think of it as a piece of material, filled with stuffing,
shaped in the form of an arm and hand, but then that would just be CREEPY, wouldn't it?

It is even possible to get severed-limb pillows for babies. The 'zaky' pillow is the shape of a pair of hands that hold the
baby as though they are being comforted by their parent's hands. The idea of this pillow is to overcome that moment when babies waken just as you take your hands away.

But, if human body parts don't float your boat, you could always go for a severed animal body part. For example,
nothing else quite says, "You're next!" as effectively as a horse's head pillow. Apart from, maybe, an actual horse's head.

But I think the winner in terms of the most bizarre/disturbing has to go to the blood spill pillow (or blood spillow, if you will). This is what might happen if someone was to take away your pillow very quickly, if your bed was made of concrete... and maybe there was spike beneath it. You get the idea.

Pillow talk

Last night I dreamt I was eating a giant marshmallow. When I woke up my pillow was gone.

When I told this joke to a class of my students once, they groaned in unison. One student at the front of the class didn’t seem to realise it was a joke. Or just didn’t get it. “So where was your pillow?” she asked.

The Midlands' Ghosthunter

I watched Eggheads for the first time tonight (BBC2, 6pm). A 30-minute roller-coaster of televisual excitement. I guarantee that if you watched it tomorrow night, you'll be on the edge of your seat within the first few minutes... reaching for the remote.


As I'm sure you know, the show pits challengers against a team of 'Eggheads' who are essentially quiz champions who have won quizzes ranging from Mastermind, to Brain of Britain, to Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? One is even 4-times World Quizzing Champion. We're talking quiz freaks here.

Why am I telling you this? Well, by the light of the full moon this morning, I left the house at 6.30 to get to BBC Birmingham for a 9am audition for Eggheads. No, not to be one of the Eggheads themselves (like you were thinking that...). This was as part of a team of challengers.

My friend and erstwhile Most Haunted sparring partner, Richard Felix, had been asked to put together a 'ghosthunters' team for the show. He needed five team members (plus a reserve) who could loosely be described as ghosthunters who were knowledgeable, erudite, well read, etc. So he phoned me... and asked me if I knew of anyone who fit the bill. As I couldn't think of anyone, he settled for me as a team member. Even though, to be honest, I'm not really much of a ghosthunter.

Although we'd need six team members for the show if we were chosen, we got by with four for today's audition. Richard's son, Edd, is also a ghosthunter and leads nightly ghost walks around Derby, and CJ Romer is another expert on ghosts and the paranormal. More importantly, CJ is bit of an egghead himself with an encyclopedic knowlege of the arts and humanities (i.e., the proper clever stuff). I gather one of the Eggheads is also called CJ... something Richard hoped might increase our chances of being picked for the show!

When Richard, Edd, and I arrived (CJ arrived later), we were led into a room where three other teams were waiting. One was a full team of five members, another had three of their team like us, and the other had only two members of their team. It was actually this last team that were the most interesting. It turns out they were a Take That tribute band. Or rather they were a 'fat' Take That tribute band. Yep, they were called Take Fat.

Our first task was to individually answer ten general knowledge questions in 3 minutes. These were not easy. And even the ones I thought I might have got right, I didn't. For example, "For which film did Paul Newman win a Best Actor Oscar?". The possible answers were (a) Cool Hand Luke, (b) The Color of Money, or (c) The Hustler. I was fairly confident it was Cool Hand Luke. But a quick check on Wikipedia tells me it was The Color of Money! (Apparently he was nominated for Best Actor award for the other two movies, but didn't win it.)

Even more worryingly, an hour or so later between us we couldn't even remember half of the questions we were asked! Good job there isn't a memory round. Or maybe there is and I've just forgotten...

The next part replicated (kind of) the format of the show itself. A category is chosen and the team picks one member to answer a multiple choice question on that category. If you got it right then you compete in a head to head with the other teams to win a point. We didn't do too bad in that round (i.e., we did at least as well as the others!).

The final part was a brief team interview on camera. These tapes are sent to the series producer and we were told that the decision of which teams to have on the show is based almost entirely on this footage. I guess the mock quiz rounds are to ensure we're not complete idiots (oh dear...). By this time our fourth team member, CJ, had arrived. Which is just as well as while we were waiting he was able to take the ten question general knowledge test and hopefully get right all the questions we had got wrong (and promptly forgotten). Though I think he went for Cool Hand Luke as well...

I think we did ok with the team interview. Apart from fact that I was asked who my favourite Egghead was. This was a problem as I'd never watched the show! Fortunately, I had remembered that one of the Eggheads was Judith Keppell the woman who had been the first person to win the million pounds on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? "Yes, she's my favourite!" I enthusiastically told the researcher. I also felt a bit of a fraud shouting in unison, "we're the ghosthunters from the Midlands!" Not only am I not much of a ghosthunter, I'm not from the Midlands.

Anyway, we'll see if we get chosen to be on the show itself. If you really want to know more about the Eggheads quiz programme, Wikipedia has an astonishingly detailed page, which is probably more interesting than the show itself, which you can watch on BBC iPlayer here.

Cosmic!

I guess it is no coincidence that, two months into what I find myself referring to as 'operation freefall', my interest in cosmic ordering is returning. As some of you will remember, cosmic ordering was the subject of a certain book that, ahem, found its way into my possession. (But we don't talk about that any more...)

Cosmic ordering refers to the idea that to make your dreams become a reality you can effectively place orders with the cosmos. The cosmos then dutifully delivers your order, much like any other delivery service (other than the Royal Mail, I guess). There seem to be dozens of books devoted to the subject of cosmic ordering out there (and more than 17 million hits on Google!) but the book that is typically regarded as inspiring the rising interest in cosmic ordering is Barbel Mohr's book The Cosmic Ordering Service. It was this book that Noel Edmonds cited as introducing him to the concept and that led to his return to TV in Deal or No Deal.

Well, if it worked for The Edmonds, could it work for me? Has anyone else here tried cosmic ordering? Or is it a load of twaddle?

The Big Apple

My brother got married on Friday last week. The happy couple have this week gone on honeymoon in New York. So this is for them... I love this song (you didn't have me down as a Jay-Z fan now did you?):



Bright Lights, Big City, New Tork Times 1 and New York Times 2 tell of my and Rachel's visit to the Big Apple (for what it's worth). Ant, Lisa... hope you have as much fun as we did. x

Operation freefall

From TV History to TV Burp

In case you missed what Derren Brown regarded as being an "anus-invertingly unpalatable" idea and what the Guardian called "the worse single hour of television produced in 2009", here is the first part of Michael Jackson: The Live Seance:



Those willing to risk your anus being inverted can catch the rest of the show on YouTube.

It turns out they did, indeed, have a parapsychologist on as an observer. A rather pallid young man who sat in the background on a bar stool and, well, observed. He seemed kind of lost for words as he watched Derek Acorah lead four sequined (and perfectly well-balanced) Jacko "superfans" through the seance. At the end of the show he seemed genuinely concerned, along with many of the viewers no doubt, for the emotional wellbeing of said superfans. One superfan in particular, himself called Michael, had sobbed uncontrollably as his idol (or rather, Derek) spoke to him.

I guess both Derek and superfan Michael have recovered... I gather they are to appear on Harry Hill's TV Burp on Saturday night.

Television history

Tonight, the medium Derek Acorah will attempt to contact the spirit of Michael Jackson in a live seance to be broadcast on Sky1 at 10pm. Here's the trailer:



I wonder if they'll have a parapsychologist on there as an observer...?

Midlands' Best Medium

If I'm being honest, I had pretty low expectations regarding Midlands' Best Medium. I'm not saying that I had any reason to believe that the mediums from this part of England were likely to be a load of rubbish, it's just that I imagined the kind of folks that might enter such a competition may not have been the best judge of their own ability. (So, yes I suppose I'm saying I did think they might be rubbish.) So I was pleasantly surprised when, having negotiated the turmoil that is Derby's inner ring road, the nine individuals who had made it through the auditions seemed to be fairly balanced people with some hold on reality!

The contestants' first task was psychometry. This usually involves giving someone a reading based upon holding a personal item of theirs, like a ring. The idea is that the object supposedly 'absorbs' the energies of the wearer, and it is from these energies that a psychic or medium is able to pick up characteristics of the owner. At least I think that's the theory. On this occasion, the task was made even harder as each contestant was asked to give a reading on a 'mystery object'. This was an ancient bracelet retrieved from an archaeological dig, and thought to be around 3000 years old! A difficult test to say the least, even if there is something to psychometry. All nine contestants gave it a try, and came up with some interesting 'facts' about the object much of which was unverifiable. None really came close to identifying how old it was.

Round two returned to more familiar territory for the mediums. Each contestant was required to give readings to members of the audience much like you would typically see when mediums give stage performances (or when giving platform readings at a Spiritualist church). The main difference was that the people for whom the readings were intended would be chosen at random (by throwing a soft toy into the audience if you must know). Contestants would have only about 5 minutes to give a reading. This round was a mixed bag of general vague readings that could perhaps apply to most people but there were one or two good hits in which a couple of contestants seemed to give accurate information including names and so on.

After each contestant did their bit, the panel of judges, which consisted of Richard Felix, Ian Lawman (both also former Most Haunted contributors) and myself, would give our comments. (That's right, it was the paranormal world's answer to Britain's Got No Talent!) But then it was up to the audience to vote for who would go through to the final round.

The three finalists were set the task of having to each give me a reading with the audience watching... I'm not sure who found this the more uncomfortable, them or me! Again a mixture of relatively vague statements that I imagine would be true of most people with a sprinkling of hits. But we were able to eventually choose one medium as the overall winner (as in they won the title of Midlands' Best Medium, not that they won a set of overalls...).

I believe future regional competitions around the country are being planned as we speak.

See you there

Imagine the scene. You're in Derby on the night before Halloween. You're wondering to yourself, "I wonder who is the best medium around here?" And by that you don't just mean around Derby, you're talking more further afield. The Midlands generally.

If only there was an event that might help you find the Midlands' Best Medium. If only.

All the fun of the psychic fair (pt 3)

One of the main reasons for my doing the psychic fair was so that people who I gave readings to could compare the reading I gave with a reading they received on the same day from another reader. For practical reasons, this meant I could justify giving readings for free as customers would be required to still get a reading from someone else so they had one to compare it to. If I just said come and get a free reading then it might understandably upset some of the other readers, and I didn't want to upset my new friend Psychic Malcolm who, after all, does this for a living. From my own perspective, it would allow me to get a sense of how meaningful my readings were. Were my readings as good as other readers at the fair? Or was I spouting meaningless drivel whilst the other readers were tapping into some mystical source of knowledge? Or, dare I say, the other way round?

Sam, the young magician sat opposite me, was quite sceptical about tarot readings. And he wasn't really intending to pay for a reading today, but was quite happy to get a free reading from me. Even though he wasn't planning to get a comparison reading, I was darned if I was going to let him walk away and leave me staring out from behind my table. As with Psychic Malcolm, I asked Sam to shuffle the cards while calming his thoughts, etc., etc. Sam deftly demonstrated his skills with a deck of cards as he proceeded to elegantly riffle shuffle the card, squaring them neatly on the table before drawing out ten cards from various parts of the deck. Again, I proceeded to give a reading that was probably not a million miles away from what I'd said to Malcolm. Not that I was just simply giving the same stock spiel. No, I was sincerely aiming to build a reading based upon my understanding of the meanings of the cards as they were laid out in front of me. The trouble was, I found myself saying fairly similar things and being suitably vague and impersonal no matter which cards I was trying to interpret. That said, Sam did say that a few of the things I had talked about in the reading seemed to be relevant to his life. The best thing was, Sam now seemed quite motivated to go and get a reading from another reader in the hall so that he could compare it with my reading. There's a little scientist in all of us.

Even better news was that while I had been giving Sam a reading someone else had appeared. Charlotte was now waiting for a reading. And after Charlotte was Sue, and then Vanessa, and then Michael. In fact, it seems word had got out. Even without a sign people had heard about the man giving free readings. Before I knew it, I was booked up for the rest of the day! Rachel took people's names and allowed 20 minutes per reading, which meant I had to be fairly concise. The readings themselves were probably only taking about 10-15 minutes but I took a couple of minutes at the beginning explaining what I was up to and why I was here. More time was spent at the end of the reading as people gave their opinions on the reading they had received and often furnished me with some relevant details of their lives to show where my reading seemed to have relevance.

In general, I think my readings were probably fairly vague. However, much of the feedback from the people I gave readings to suggests that my readings tended to be at least as good as those they received from others at the fair! Even Sam, the magician, had gone and got himself another reading (this time with Angel cards) and said mine was just as good.

However, there were a few times where my apparent accuracy surprised even me. The first of these, and the most dramatic, was in a reading I gave to Linda (not her real name). The first two cards in Linda's reading were the Two of Swords and The Emperor. The Two of Swords was in the reversed position (i.e., it was upside down) which is supposed to relate to 'suspicion'. The Emperor can relate to a few things, but the one that immediately sprung to mind was 'fatherhood'. In the celtic cross spread these first two cards are laid one on top of the other so I started each reading with an interpretation that linked these first two cards. In Linda's case, the obvious interpretation that immediately occurred to me was that there was a difficult relationship with her father. The trouble was, I found it a real challenge to to say this. I ummed and ahhed before finally saying, "these two cards suggest to me that there is some difficulty in your relationship with your father." The reason I found this hard was that it was the first reading in which I was broaching anything that was fairly personal. Up until that point I had kept things at the safe and general level, making reference to changes in the person's life (we're all going through changes right?), success in creative projects, and so on.

But part of the advice given to me by Psychic Malcolm earlier that day, and by others, was that you should go with what you get, "Give what you get!" So that's what I did, even though it made me feel uncomfortable by daring to make an assertion about Linda and her father which was frankly none of my business! But Linda seemed quite happy to accept this. There was indeed some tension between her and her father, caused by a relationship she was having with a friend of his. What I noted about this exchange was not only did I seem to hit upon a pertinent aspect of Linda's life (even if just by chance perhaps), but also her willingness to then tell me details about her personal life which, as I say, was frankly none of my business!

All in all, the psychic fair was a fantastic learning experience for me. I learnt a lot about the challenges associated with giving readings, and ways in which I could improve the readings I give. At the very least, a tarot reading provides a fairly unique context in which to give and receive a fresh perspective on events in one's life, and can be a valuable tool for enabling us to reflect on these events. Sometimes just standing back from a situation and seeing it from someone else's perspective is enough to help us find a way through. And a tarot reading (or some other psychic reading) can help provide that alternative perspective.

I'm still left with the question of whether tarot readings provide anything more than a way of reflecting on events. That is, can they provide a way of tapping into our otherwise ignored psychic or intuitive abilities? Or is that just wishful thinking? Hopefully this project will help me to answer these questions.

Whatever the answers, I have a feeling I'm going to learn a lot about myself and learn to appreciate other ways of seeing the world. And I'm already up one laughing Buddha and one crystal. What could possibly go wrong?

All the fun of the psychic fair (pt 2)

So there I was, sat in a dimly lit corner of a hall in the centre of Witney in Oxfordshire, flanked by a psychic artist and a Psychic Malcolm, waiting for my first client (or subject or victim, depending on your choice of terminology!).

For those of you who aren't familiar with the town of Witney, it's a small market town about 12 miles West of Oxford, with a population of a little over 20,000 people. Right now, all I needed was just one person to meander up to my table and ask for a reading. And then, next thing I knew someone had walked up, sat down in the chair opposite me and asked for a reading!

I was surprised who it was. It was Psychic Malcolm. Apparently, in the thirty years that Malcolm had been giving readings, he had never actually had a reading himself. I felt honoured that Malcolm, nay Psychic Malcolm, would have me be the first and only person to have ever given him a reading! I also felt a little intimidated as I'd be sure that he would be looking at the cards as they lay on the table thinking, "no, no, no... that card doesn't mean that!" However, it would be a start. I'd be able to have a practice run with someone who would no doubt be supportive. I asked Malcolm to shuffle the cards (I didn't ask him to cut the deck in two as PM had previously suggested) and take out ten cards. When choosing cards for your reading, it is advised by those in the know that you should calm your thoughts and to pick out cards that you feel 'drawn' to. That is, you shouldn't necessarily just count off ten cards without giving it some care and attention. Of course, sceptics and cynics would argue that it makes no difference as you're just pulling out cards at random. But tarot theory (or should that perhaps be tarot lore) is that you will be drawn to cards that are meaningful to you at that time. Whether or not there is any truth in this or if it's just bunkum, I thought I should at least ask Malcolm to take out ten cards he was drawn to. I also suggested that if he had a specific question in mind that he would like to be addressed by the reading, then now was the time to clear other thoughts away from his mind and to hold that question firmly in his mind. Whether he did any of his or not... we ended up with ten cards in a pile on the table.

I proceeded to turn over the cards as I lay them out in the formation of the Celtic Cross. The first card in the centre of the table, the second lay across the first, and the next four placed in front of, behind, and to the left and right of the first two cards. The final four cards were lay in a line to the right of the cross formed by the first six cards.

Malcolm looked down at the cards, and I saw his eyes dart from card to card as if to take in all the meaning that was there. And I could imagine a coherent reading was immediately forming in his mind based on what he saw. He looked up at me expectantly. I was still racking my brains, going through the peg system I had used to try and remember the meanings of each of the cards and find a way of transforming the key words associated with each card into something meaningful to say about Malcolm. I don't think either of us would have been impressed if I'd come out with something like, "I get the feeling you're quite an intuitive, dare I say, psychic person...?"

Eventually I was able to craft (or more accurately cobble) together a 10 minutes reading that Malcolm seemed quite happy with. Or at least he seemed quite happy with how I delivered it. And it did help settle my nerves. Moreover, while I had been giving Malcolm the best psychic reading he had ever had, a queue had formed. Perhaps queue is too strong a word. Is it possible to have a queue of just one person? Still, it was one person! A real person! And he was waiting for me! This was it. My first real customer!

As Malcolm stood up and wished me luck for the rest of the day, the young man who had been waiting walked over to say hello and shook my hand. His name was Sam and it turns out he was a local magician who had seen small piece about my project on magicweek.co.uk. As is the case with many magicians, Sam was rather sceptical of the whole idea that tarot cards might be able to convey some kind of mystical information about our lives. I explained a little more about the project as a whole, telling him of my intentions to see if I could develop my psychic abilities for real. He was still sceptical. And understandably so. As I heard myself describing the project and my plans for the coming year, I felt my own scepticism rising within me. What was I thinking? I had left behind a perfectly good, safe, academic position in order to learn to become psychic! Oh but it'll be alright because at the end of the year I'll take a million dollar challenge to prove that I really am psychic. I was clearly deluded. And it was going to take a lot more than a lucky Buddha to save me.

All the fun of the psychic fair (pt 1)

Apologies for the delay in posting an update following Saturday's psychic fair in Witney. Without going into too much detail I (along with Rachel) have been pretty ill since Sunday with liquids forcing their way out of both ends (maybe that was too much detail?).

Anyway, the psychic fair... I was getting all psyched up for it especially after we sent out the press-release in the middle of last week. BBC Oxford picked it up and ran a short piece with me for BBC South News on TV on Friday evening and I did another brief interview for BBC Radio Oxford on Saturday morning. Hopefully these two dips into the local media would bring a few folks looking a free tarot reading to my stall at the fair.

The fair opened at 10am and Rachel and I arrived at quarter to 10. Some of the other stall holders had apparently been there from 8.30, setting up their displays of crystals, wands, etc. We didn't exactly have a lot of setting up to do. A deck of tarot cards doesn't need much setting up, other than a shuffle. Fortunately, Deb, the organiser of the fair had at least provided a dark red tablecloth, but other than that we were working bare (as it were). To help create the right effect Rachel nipped over to one of the stands to buy me an amethyst crystal (for grounding) and a small laughing Buddha for good luck. £5 well spent.

With a couple of minutes to go before the doors opened I had a quick chat with my neighbours for the day. To my left were Elaine and Mark, who were also psychic fair virgins! (As in this was their first time with a stall at a psychic fair... what else could that mean?) Elaine is a psychic artist who will draw your spirit guide. Mark is her partner. Actually, I'm assuming Mark is her partner as the conversation didn't get much past the fact that Elaine is a psychic artist (and, of course, that they too were psychic fair virgins). To my right was Malcolm or, rather, Psychic Malcolm to give him his full name. I felt I had more to learn from Psychic Malcolm as he, too, was offering tarot readings. I told him what I was doing there, although I think Deb had already explained what I was up to. I was concerned that Malcolm might think I'd draw customers away from his stall given that I was offering tarot readings for free. But I explained that anybody getting a reading from me would be required to also have a reading from another reader at the fair with which to compare it to. He was quite happy with that.

To be honest, my concern wasn't so much that I would be drawing people away from the 'real' psychic readers at the fair, but more that I wouldn't get anyone coming to my table for a reading at all. I mean, despite the red tablecloth (thanks Deb) and my lucky Buddha and crystal (bless you Rach), my table looked pretty crap. What's more I was tucked away in the far corner of the hall and, to make things worse we hadn't even thought to make a sign. No sign! What were we thinking?! Why hadn't we made a glossy sign saying "FREE READINGS"? A sign like that would have surely attracted some attention. Even Psychic Malcolm had a sign saying who he was (he was Psychic Malcolm). We did consider making a sign there and then, but the only paper we had were the short questionnaires we were planning to give my 'clients' (if I had any) to complete after their readings. I didn't feel that a hastily hand written sign on the back of a piece of A4 paper was going to do the trick. It could do more harm than good, especially as we didn't even have a pen. The sign would have had to be written with one of the pencils Rachel had rushed out to buy for people to complete the questionnaires!

I thought it might be a good idea to enlist Psychic Malcolm's help. He seemed to know what he was doing. I mean, he had a sign and everything! I had a feeling that he'd probably attract a fair few customers throughout the day so I asked him if he could mention my offer of a free reading to the folks he gave a reading to. He was more than happy to help.

He sensed I was a little nervous about what lay ahead. It could have been his psychic faculties that allowed him to draw this conclusion or it could have been I gave him a clue.

"Malcolm," I said, "I'm a little nervous about what lies ahead."

"Don't worry," Malcolm reassured me, "you'll do fine." I wish I had his confidence. Malcolm proceeded to talk me through a little how he would conduct a tarot reading, while also asking me how I was planning to conduct mine. "You going to get them to cut the deck in two?" he asked. "Er, no," I replied. The little book that came with my tarot cards had said nothing about cutting the deck into two... only to get the person for whom you were giving the reading to shuffle the cards! Malcolm went on to lay out 16 cards into four rows of four, quite different from the Celtic Cross spread using ten cards that I was planning to use. As he started to offer interpretations of the cards that didn't seem to match what I had learnt for each card, I thought I'd better stop him.

"Thanks for the help and advice Malcolm," I said, "but to be honest, this is confusing me more!"

As the doors opened, and people started to trickle into the hall, I wandered back over to my bare-looking table and sat down behind it. And I waited.

What had I let myself in for?

And the beginning of a new one

As luck would have it (although we know that luck is no accident don't we?) there was a 'Psychic Night' on at the pub down the end of our road last night. A perfect opportunity I thought to see how this psychic reading lark is done.

I got down there for around 8. There were three readers: Bev, Rose Marie, and Vicky. I booked a slot with Vicky for 9.20, which would give me time to pop round the corner to the shop for some essentials, nip back home for something to eat and then get back in time for my reading. I arrived back at 9.15 in good time for my slot. I was still waiting at 9.45... I guess it's hard to keep to time when channelling energies and the like (my worry is how to make a reading last 20 minutes... or even 10 minutes!).

Soon enough I was sat opposite Vicky who was, let's say, 'larger than life'. As she took a drag on her electronic cigarette she told me how she worked. "I work with Spirit", she explained as she blew out vapour that resembled smoke.

"I do cards, but I let Spirit guide me", she added.

"OK", I said, all excited wondering what the cards, or Spirit, had in store for me. Vicky instructed me to spread the cards face down on the table, mix them up, and select 10 cards. As I chose each card, I was to pass it to her. Once all 10 were chosen, Vicky placed them face up into the formation I now recognise as the Celtic Cross.


Excellent. Now I’ll get some tips and ideas on how to read this spread. Or so I thought. It seems as though that Vicky, or the Spirit she was connecting with, had other ideas. This particular Spirit, who Vicky thought could be my father’s mother, just wasn’t going to let Vicky get on with the reading. And because my dad’s mum died before I was born I obviously couldn’t connect with any of the (very vague) bits of information she was giving me.

“Perhaps it’s better that we switch and you get a reading from someone else?” proposed Vicky.

“Er, OK” I replied. I felt a bit of a failure. Maybe she’d seen something in the spread of cards laid out between us and she just couldn’t bring herself to tell me. Next thing I knew, the girl who was taking the bookings ushered me to a chair to wait for one of the other readers. Without any further explanation I saw Vicky hurrying out of the door to the pub clutching a cigarette. I assumed this time it was a real one and not the electronic one. Maybe that was it. It was just Vicky’s nicotine addiction that meant she couldn’t read my cards.

Whatever the reason, I was now waiting for Rose Marie to finish with her current client. Would I fare any better with her? Rose Marie at least looked more the part. She was an older lady wearing a red knitted shawl over her shoulders. And I learned a lot more from this reading (at least I got a reading!).

There’s not enough time to go into detail here about what she said. Suffice to say much of what Rose Marie told me seemed to fit. Sure, much of it could have been, and probably was, me taking what she was saying and making it fit to my personal situation. But interestingly she did tell me about a change in my work circumstances! Spot on. Yes, I know that this could be interpreted in so many ways and if it didn’t happen to fit it would probably be forgotten. But let me be impressed for now. She also told me that I would be successful in my new career, so I’m taking her at her word.

In terms of how she gave the reading, the important thing I learned echoes some of the comments on this blog. She didn’t say this card means this, and that card means that. It was more to do with how the cards linked with or reinforced each other and how these were built into a narrative. This is what I need to try to do when I give my readings on Saturday. It’s either that or try Vicky’s approach and suggest they try a different reader before I rush out of the door!

Wish me luck! (Although luck is no accident, etc.)

The end of an era

Ten years in one job is a long time. I'm with Fern on that one. In fact, you get to the stage that you feel as though you should have left a long time ago. The question I have been asked the most during the last few weeks is, "Are you still here?". Only in body. Not in spirit.

Over the last couple of days, as I have packed up my office, soon-to-be-ex-colleagues would wander past and comment "Lucky man...". But why so lucky? Surely, any of them could do what I was doing and leave. Couldn't they?