There are no magic beans

by | Sep 22, 2020 | Pizza for the soul | 0 comments

I stopped believing in God on a Monday morning in 1967.
The Sunday School lady said we could have anything we wanted if we prayed hard enough to God.
This was a revelation to me; God was like Santa Claus. Same beard, but he comes more often.

I knew what I wanted. There was a long shopping list for God, and at the top was a new  Jack-in-a-Box. So, I prayed. I prayed really hard for a Jack-in-a-Box. On the knees by the bed just like the pictures, and when Monday morning arrived; no Jack-in-a-box. 

I broke up with God right there and never gave her another thought.

It took the next thirty-five years to make friends with my idea of God.

Even longer to understand my relationship to the Divine. The hardest thing to learn is that there are no magic beans to magically lift us up to enlightened status, or even where jack-in-the-boxes appear out of thin air.
It was a long road of inner work and reflection as well as the help of learned and patient tutors on the realm of the Spirit. Many of whom I still study with today.
Because if you’re on this spiritual path, and I reckon you are because you’re reading this, then you may have had a taste of disappointment too. But you’re still here. And that separates you from the rest.

You’re in for the long haul.

And there are no coincidences you wound up here – we’re fellow travellers after all. Only I’ll bet I’ve made a few more mistakes than you and could probably open some of those invisible doors you keep banging your head on. Here are some things I know about you already:

You’ve always known there’s more to life than stacking the dishwasher, and you could care less about the Kardashians.

You’re super comfy in your own skin – (most of the time, except when dealing with twits on the road and sad animal movies.)

The nearest and dearest already know you’re psychic  – they aren’t in the least surprised if you come out of the broom closet. (Or not -maybe you like it in there just fine.)


There’s always been this …pull….

A  fascination ever since you were a kid, and you’ve never really had words for what it was. (Later I became a ten-year-old armed with an ouija board and a Led Zeppelin 4 album.)
So that’s you.

I know what you want because, hey, I’m psychic.

But really, that’s what I wanted too, back then. If you’re done with cookie cutter psychic training and ready to touch the power of your soul and what your psychic potential really is, that’s where the magic beans are. Inside you.
I’m friendly, funny and straight to the point. I’m clear concise and relevant, and I’ll give you the pass to open your own invisible doors so you can touch the power of your abilities for real.
Pop me a message and book a chat.


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Semi fictional story about me: In 1994, I had a midlife crisis, got a boob job and moved to Byron Bay.

Quickly realized there was nothing there but more boob jobs and white furniture, so I escaped faux-spiritual beach culture, went to Peru, and experimented with DMT.

While there, fell in love with a Shaman who was really a plumber from Padstow, but stayed because of attachment issues.

After following a raven out of the jungle, I holed up in a Scandi-style Air B’n’B and finally got enlightened.

Parts of this story are true.


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