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The Life of a Medium




Excerpted from
Walking in the Garden of Souls
By George Anderson

In the early 1980s I did a cable television show called "Psychic Channels," which, looking back, was revolutionary for its time It was more or less a televised version of the groups I still do on a regular basis-connecting the souls in the hereafter with their grieving loved ones here I was outside the studio one afternoon going to my car after a taping, and a woman about twenty feet away stopped and addressed her two friends in a voice loud enough for me to hear "Look girls, " she said, laughing. "There's George Anderson-small medium at large." I found the play on words very funny and laughed along with them, not realizing until much later, when it was pointed out to me, that the joke was at my expense. Even after it was explained to me that I was being made fun of, I still found nothing wrong with someone easing their own fear of my ability to communicate with the souls in the hereafter by taking a potshot at me The thought of physical death and life after this one is still disconcerting to many people, and if dismissing my work as "a crock" would make someone feel better or ease their mind about the inevitable. I don't mind, and neither do the souls in the hereafter.

My life is not normal, but I have lived long enough and heard enough circumstances, good and bad, to understand that "normal" is truly a relative term. The thing that makes me "abnormal" to some people makes me "unique" to others My life being so far from normal has not always been easy, but it certainly has been interesting and quite educational. Once I accepted that it was my differences that made me who I am. I learned to work with what I had and to be proud of my accomplishments. In time, and with the souls" help. I realized that there is a reason and purpose to why we are created the way we are. Some of us have physical differences, some have emotional or environmental differences, but these differences create who we are and who we will be. But it is how we use this uniqueness in impacting the world around us that helps form our spiritual experiences on the earth In the whole scheme of things here and hereafter, uniqueness is a gift, and different is not so bad after all.

I began seeing the souls in the hereafter and hearing them communicate at the age of six, after a bout with chicken pox turned into encephalomyelitis (a swelling of the brain) and briefly paralyzed my legs. As I got better, the souls began appearing. They came slowly at first, with the appearance of a woman I called "Lilac Lady" because she always appeared in a lilac-colored haze, followed by others, like the relatives of friends, or the saints and extraordinary people I recognized from my religious education Their appearances became a regular and welcome event in my young life. I liked hearing from them because they made me feel safe, and they understood me like no one else could. I saw nothing unusual about their appearances and actually looked forward to hearing from them, until I found out that no one else experienced visitations or heard messages. I was often ridiculed for the things I saw and heard, to the point where it became a real problem for my parents and teachers. To add to this peculiar problem.

I also happened to be very small for my age and was too shy to make friends with other children. I was picked on mercilessly in school for the things I said, and as I moved from grade to grade, my handful of friends trickled down to none. The only thing I had that was positive in my life was the relationship I had with these extraordinary souls who visited with me when I was hurt or upset They came and listened to my feelings, and I could speak to them from my heart, without even having to say the words out loud. I eventually found myself retreating from the actual world of people on the earth and into a world where these wonderful souls knew and loved me, and spoke to me like I had real value to them. After a while, I had no use for the outside world and fought having to be part of it every chance I could. For a time, I was even tutored at home It was a blessing to be able to stay far from the impatient, unforgiving world outside.

By my teenage years, I was thought of by just about everyone as having mental problems. Even most family members and the few friends I still had decided that I was slightly bonkers. Although I was never diagnosed with a mental illness. I do believe in retrospect that my shying away from the physical world and into the world of the souls was a type of emotional problem. As I grew into my teens, the pressure to fit in with the other teenagers was almost overpowering-I just wanted to be like everyone else I no longer wanted to hear the voices that once comforted me. The ability that once felt so reassuring now became a burden and a constant reminder that I was different. The last thing you want to be when you are a teenager is different, and I found myself resisting my ability to hear the souls and hoping they would just disappear I entered my late teens, my small world started widening, and I found myself having less and less use for those words that came from the souls who tried to guide and shape my life. I also discovered that I could tune them out or listen to them at will-a nifty trick I had never realized before Apparently this ability had a "mute" button, which I found myself pressing more and more.

I found myself a part-time job in a shoe store, and now had pin money in my pocket and a small circle of friends. Things started to change-I knew it, and I think the souls knew it too. They began coming less and less frequently at about the same lime that I found myself maturing into a young adult. I didn't miss them-I began to resent the fact that so many of my problems with other people were because of these damn souls. Now, whenever the souls would appear I would ignore them. Still, they came with hope and love, but I wouldn't listen. Like every other young adult with a small taste of freedom, I decided I didn't need anybody to invade my thoughts and navigate my actions I wanted to do things on my own now, without the hand-holding and encouragement from those souls who now seemed to me so parochial and old-fashioned I didn't want this ability that caused me so much heartache anymore, so I decided to bury it-bury it with a shovel, and then bury the shovel. I made the conscious decision to stop listening, in the hope that with no one to listen to them, the souls would move on. For once, I felt in control of my own life, and the souls retreated slowly without a fight. Although I could still feel them around, they were easy to ignore since they no longer spoke or appeared Finally, I thought, I am free, I could be my own man.



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