To Swifties, Red is the title of her fourth studio album released October 22 (coincidentally, my birthday). To me though, red is a color very much present in my life. After I posted my first blog, I was overwhelmed with hesitation. “Did I do the right thing? Did I follow my guidance? Holy crap, people are going to cast me as a witch.” Prior to posting, I spent hours praying and meditating asking and listening to His guidance. I was relieved to see red anytime I questioned my intuition, anytime I asked myself if I did the right thing. Flashback to a year ago, I distinctively remember red following me days before and after the bar conversation that changed my life. To Taylor Swift, red is the color of passion, of anger, of hate, of love, but for me, red is a divine mile-marker: it is my angels’ way of telling me, “Hey, changes are coming your way, you are on the right path.” I have received the celestial red light to proceed.
Let me tell you how a spirit we will call “Casper” used me to deliver flowers to a surviving loved one via a red-headed Earth Angel named Colleen. On June 8, 2014, I begrudging let my wife, Andrea, talk me into going to a holistic fair in town. After two months of excuses, and with two hours before the doors closed, I exhausted all excuses. I felt like a ball shackled to a heavy chain with a final destination to the Holistic Fair in Fort Worth, Texas. For the first time, I noticed the color red. On the way to the holistic fair, at a stop light, I noticed I was shielded by red cars. There was a red car to the front, to the left and to the right of me. “Interesting,” I thought. It also reminded me of Christopher in the book, The Curious Incident of the Dog at Night Time, by Mark Haddon. I cautiously followed my wife into the holistic fair. I was expecting to see crystal balls, Cleo the Jamaican Physic, and dark images on tarot cards. To my surprise, the crowd was oddly normal. Yes, there were hippies sprinkled in a group of soccer moms, teachers, and men like me: men chained to our wives. With our time constraint in mind, I noticed Christine Cappuccino. Christine’s table read “$20 for a twenty-minute session.” “Ok, let me get this checked off my Honey-Do List and then we can go home,” I said to myself. As I sat down, I had no expectations. She reached out her soft hands and placed them under mine. She closed her eyes and we embarked on a spiritual journey. She told me about my children, their personalities and their past. Christine mentioned my recently departed abuela, my mother’s health condition, my interests, and my career aspirations. In between my past, present, and future, she sandwiched incongruent words. She affirmed I was a bright light for those who passed; a magnet for those departed to communicate their words, their regrets, and deliver their messages to those on this physical plane. As she continued, I was left utterly bemused. She also stated that I would soon channel people who have passed and I would heal hearts, especially for those who left Earth prematurely. In the midst of my transformational journey, I thought of “Casper,” the apparition that hovered over my bed when I was away from home on business trips.
“Casper” appeared several times. The apparition revealed himself when I traveled and never at home. Instinctively, his presences never frightened me. Never did I think I was possessed. At times, the subtle moments seemed rather phantasmagoric. I can best describe the encounters as occurring at that indistinguishable moment before sleep and being awake. After my reading with Christine, it all made sense.
If you remember, I was away on a business trip during the bar conversation that changed my life. The day after my bar conversation, I noticed subtle red reassurances. At the end of the work day, as I routinely said good bye to co-workers, I was compelled to stop by Colleen’s office. For whatever reason, I knew I had to talk to her although I was eager to begin my trip home. As I walked into her office, I noticed the color red: her red scarf that hung in her cluttered shelf, the newly applied red lip stick that welcomed me in, and the red marker on her white board. “How in the hell am I going to tell her this?” I told her my previous night’s experience at the bar. To my surprise, she completely embraced my story. She held no judgement, no preconceived notions. As I hugged and thanked her for her listening, I knew she was going to be instrumental for another task.
Weeks following my night at the bar, “Casper” was present. I gathered he was eager to speak to me, share his story, and share his love and his shortened destiny to a certain loved one. As I type these words, feel “Casper’s” energy guiding me. The truth is, I was (and still am) afraid. I am afraid because I have not talked to “Casper’s” family. I have not received consent from his loved ones. However, “Casper” was insistent that I deliver flowers to “Wendy.” Financially handicapped (a future blog), I told “Casper” that I would deliver the flowers on the conditions that I would not use my own money, not be outed as a medium, and the timing would have to be blatantly obvious to me. June and July passed. “Casper” helped me find remote controls, helped me with my iPhone that my son flushed in a toilet, and a handful of other technical issues. August ushered a new phase in my mediumship.
The last week in August catapulted me into another level of mediumship. On my way to drop of my kids at daycare, I randomly received a Pro-Flowers email and thought of “Casper.” “I know you want me to deliver the flowers, but you have to remember my conditions: I did not have the money to spend on flowers and I do not want to be outed,” I told him. Following my internal dialog, “Casper” showed me Colleen and orchids. Once I was back at home and settled, I called Colleen. I told her how “Casper” wanted to send flowers to “Wendy.” Without hesitation, Colleen said, “I will do it today.” We just did not know what type of flower. I told Colleen that I kept seeing orchids. She immediately connected to bleeding heart orchids. Colleen explained that her deceased fiancé uses bleeding hearts as his symbol to communicate with her. Colleen faithfully bought flowers, delivered them to “Wendy” and shared Casper’s message of regret and love. It reminded me of Archangel Gabriel who appeared to the Virgin Mary and Joseph to deliver His announcement and more than anything, to provide comfort. “Casper” met my conditions.
Red follows me. Red is present. I surrender to God’s will and embrace my purpose. Just recently, I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to grab a few beers with my brother and friends. Inevitably, my blog was a topic of conversation. I was relieved to be gathered around family and friends; to be accepted. Jokes, laughter, and humor were used to prod at my blog and gift. I laughed right along with them. From their perspective, I completely understand how ridiculous this sounds. From my perspective, on the other hand, I am unwavered; faithful to my calling. After all, the red truck that followed me all the way to the restaurant, the numerous red shirt-clad patrons, to the sea of red audience at the Pelican vs. Golden State playoffs, and the red shots that were ordered helped me to unequivocally recognize the divine mile-markers that guide me.
My purpose for writing this is not to pretend to be perfect (obviously). I am imperfect: just a guy who occasionally enjoys drinks at a bar. God does not limit delivery of his messages to Archangels. You never know, you may get your message through subtle signs and symbols (the color red) or from someone like me: a guy in a bar.