Confessions of a Psychic Dabbler

By Emily L. VanLaeys

Writer Emily VanLaeys lives with her husband and two youngsters in Oneonta, New York, where she is a Presbyterian lay leader and social activist against hunger.

A stroll through the display stalls at the county fair found my children drooling over the home-made fudge; my husband admiring the hand-crafted wood items, and me - well, in-between the stalls of floral arrangements and home-canned vegetables, I discovered a display of psychic wares. Crystals, tarot cards, Bach flower remedies, rune stones, and a tempting array of New Age books held me entranced hile the others savored their fudge. The peddler of these wares revealed that she was a "dabbler." She would study one "New Age" practice such as astrology, for a year or two; then move on to numerology, color therapy, or whatever else the Universe sent her way. I finally left her stall without buying anything. Years of dabbling myself have taught me that the very practices that promise to light our way on the spiritual path frequently serve as distractions from the goal: oneness with God.

I began dabbling in the occult when I was 13. My friends and I played with a Ouija board, conducted ESP experiments, and held seances. We were curious about the "unseen world" and wanted to find out what our connection to it might be. One classmate discovered that she had the ability to function as a medium for discarnate spirits, so seances were a big attraction for us thrill-seeking teens. At one seance, the medium was possessed by the spirit of a soldier who had been killed in Vietnam. She rocked back and forth on the floor, shouting angrily at us as tears streamed do n her face
When the spirit left her, she didn't remember a thing. The rest of us were shaken and eager to turn the lights on. For some, that seance, was the end of their "dabbling" careers. For me, it was just the beginning.

When I was 17, a pen pal sent me Many Mansions by Gina Cerminara. This was my introduction to Edgar Cayce and reincarnation. Here I found answers to many of my questions about the injustices of life. I scoured the library for more books on reincarnation and related topics. The more I read, the more convinced I was that there are many mysteries concerning human existence which cannot be explained by science or the orthodox church. I was determined to uncover as many of these secrets as I could!

During the summer between my junior and senior years of college I cleaned houses to earn money for books. One of the women I worked for was a member of AMORC (the Ancient Mystical Order Rosae Crucis). She conducted her Rosicrucian experiments in a room which must have been very dirty, judging by the state of the rooms I was allowed to clean. She loaned me copies of the Rosicrucian Digest which I read with avid interest. As soon as I had graduated and found employment, I allotted a portion of my income to the Rosicrucian coffers so that I, too, could be enlightened on the "Secret Method for the Mastery of Life."

When the first lessons arrived, I took them to my room, out of view of my house mates, and I conducted experiments with candles and performed mental exercises, all designed to increase my understanding of universal laws and develop my psychic abilities. I was disappointed when I didn't see results right away, but I persevered After all, what could be more important than acquiring an intimate knowledge of mysteries of life," the Rosecrucians' advertisements promised. One of the students at the business school where I worked invited me to go to the park with him on afternoon. I recognized the AMORC symbol on the ring he wore, so I accepted, thinking it would be fun to ge acquainted with a fellow Rosicrucian student.

A bright sun beckoned that day; perfect afternoon to stroll in the park. But instead he drove me to his apartment. We went into a dark room where he tried to coax me to have a drink and dance with him. I protested that this was not the kind of date I'd been promised. He chided me and offered me money. I asked to see his Rosicrucian altar, so he took me to his bedroom where I saw a bureau covered with woman's cosmetics and jewelry. I at tempted to steer the conversation to his Rosicrucian activities, but his mind was not on spiritual things! He forced a kiss on me, and I insisted that he take me home. He drove me back, all the while complaining about my ungratefulness.

This encounter left me bewildered. wanted to believe that the Rosicrucian Order was the highest path I could take to spiritual enlightenment. But, while I was not very familiar with the Bible a that time, I intuitively knew what Jesus taught about false prophets: ". . . each tree is known by its own fruit." So I learned that I would have to be more discerning about organizations that claimed to be "The Way" to Truth. I would not give up on Rosicrucianism for several more years, but my eyes had been opened to the fallibility of a school of thought which allowed a man such as I had met to advance to the 9th Degree.

A few months later I met the man whom I would marry. Our first evening together was spent in the cemetery of an abandoned mining village the perfect setting for a conversation about life after death, and other experiences beyond this physical realm. Mark was not familiar with the concepts I'd been exploring, but he listened with genuine interest as I explained the meaning and purpose of reincarnation, karma, and out-of-body travel. Over the years he would prove
to be the tempering agent in my life; tolerating, and even sharing my spiritual explorations to a certain point, then pulling the reins when he saw me digressing too far from my true purpose.

This purpose became clearer as my path converged with Mark's. Together we realized we were seeking, not just answers to the mysteries of life, but knowledge of God and a genuine relationship with Him. After our marriage we began a joint quest for a church where we could be a part of a community of seekers. This quest took us to a variety of churches, ranging from Unitarian to Episcopalian, and it marked the beginning of what I call my "outer" journey.

On the "outer" path, I discovered opportunities for service. I read books such as Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger by Ron Sider and Bread for the World by Arthur Simon, which present a biblical perspective on violence, poverty, and oppression. Mark and I became members of Bread for the World, and we taught a hunger awareness class in the Unitarian Church. As members of Peace Links we helped to organize pro-peace programs. I wrote letters for Amnesty International, seeking release for prisoners of conscience. Both of us volunteered our services as counselors for a telephone crisis center.

At the same time, my inner journey led me to seek the esoteric wisdom offered by organizations such as the Theosophical Society, the Arcane School of Lucis Trust, the Lemurian Fellowship, the Church Universal and Triumphant, and Unity School of Christianity.

Gradually, the revelations of the metaphysical books I read led me to accept the Christian mysteries that I had scorned during my intellectual college days. The Virgin Birth, the miracles that Jesus performed, and the Resurrection all seemed possible now that I understood them from the perspective of the mystics. While my inner journey led me to accept the tenets of the Christian faith, my outer journey helped me to put my faith into practice. The day came when Mark and I could stand up and say: "I believe Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior." So we joined the Methodist Church where we enjoyed the fellowship and spiritual nurture that can't be found in books.

Wednesday nights we went to a church fellowship supper, followed by a hymn sing and Bible study. Afterward, before we had children, and could stay out as much as we liked, we went to the home of a friend who hosted a metaphysical discussion group. Here we shared spiritual ideas that our church friends weren't ready to hear, and special guests stretched the boundaries of our belief with palmistry and psychic readings. One member gave me a tarot reading and another did my horoscope. I dabbled in each of these activities, hoping to find answers to my questions about the mysteries of life, particularly my own. When the answers didn't appease my curiosity, I sought other guideposts for my path.

Later, as a mother of two, with less time for meetings, and more time to read, I came across a copy of Opening to Channel by Sanaya Roman and Duane Packer in my mother's house. My mother, one of the last people you would find "opening to channel," had found the book in my brother's trash can. A book lover who can't bear to see any book thrown away, she had rescued it. I took this as an omen that the book was meant for me, so I studied it carefully and followed the instructions that would help me to connect with my spirit guide.

Mark was working late nights, so after the children were settled in bed, I practiced going into a trance and attuning with the "life-force energy." Finally, one night I was ready to mentally walk through the doorway and meet my guide, a black-haired woman named Bernice. She was silent, but I perceived love and support in her aura. For the next step, "Verbally Channeling Your Guide," I found that I would need another person to ask questions while I was in a trance. I commissioned Mark, my skeptical but ever-tolerant husband, for this task.

Again I met Bernice, and Mark asked the questions I had written down, but still she was silent. Or if she spoke, my inner ear was not in tune with her vibrations So ended my foray with channeling.

Roman and Packer assert that after opening themselves for channeling, they were presented many opportunities for service. I did not need a spirit guide to open doors of service opportunities in my life. Having moved to another city, and to a Presbyterian Church, we had organized a couple of adult Bible study groups. I had persuaded the congregation to affiliate with Bread for the World, formed a hunger committee, and served on the missions committee. So I put my time and energy into the work I was led to do instead of frittering it away on channeling lessons.

For a while I was content organizing hunger projects, serving meals at the community soup kitchen, writing letters on the social issues that pained my soul - and then the "spiritual dabbler" in me rebelled again. Anyone can perform these "humdrum" forms of service, I thought. Wouldn't I be a more effective servant if I learned to use one of my untapped psychic gifts?

After family and reading, my third love is gardening. Spring days find me turning the soil, enriching it with compost to make it a congenial home for my newest perennials. Sometimes as I pat the soil around the roots of my garden family's newest member, I imagine the flower devas strengthening the tender roots with their energy.

After reading The Magic of Findhorn by Paul Hawken, I fantasized about gardening in cooperation with the nature intelligences so I could serve the earth and its inhabitants in a holistic way. To that end, I studied the Perelandra Garden Workbook by Machaelle Small Wright, and carefully followed her instructions for contacting the nature spirits who populate my yard. The author claimed- that I could even communicate with these invisible spirits, using a method called kinesiology, or .muscle testing." I used this method to obtain advice on the care of certain plants, and to get the devas' opinion on my garden's progress.

I had a pleasant and harmless little "thing" going with the devas until one day when I consulted them about my tiny Japanese maple sapling whose leaves were spotted. I feared that it was diseased, so I asked the deva if I should fertilize the roots. With kinesiology, one can ask only "yes" or "no" questions. The answer was "yes" to dried blood. Then I asked if I should remove the spotted leaves (why did I ask that question?) and the answer was "yes." Without a second thought I went to the garage for my garden shears and cut off every single leaf.

When Mark got home from work he saw the naked tree, and I thought he would breathe fire! He had been watering the little tree every morning since he had planted it, and he was sure I had killed it. I listened to a long lecture about my gullibility and the biological needs of trees. (I said Mark is tolerant, but even he has his limits). For the sake of our marriage, I abandoned my little "thing" with the nature spirits. (For the record, the leaves grew back the following spring, and several years later the tree is thriving.)

Once again my dabbling came to a dead end, but each experience leaves me with a kernel of wisdom, and this one was no exception. The Perelandra Garden Workbook points out the pitfall of asking intellectual questions and accumulating a lot of information that we can't use. She suggests that we weed out needless information by acting on every piece of information we take in. "Very quickly, as we attempt to actually respond, time itself will encourage us to be more discerning about the information we are gathering. There simply isn't enough time in the day to respond with some form of action to all the pieces of information we take in. We would die of exhaustion."

This sounds like good advice for the "New Age" consumer who is tempted by the promise of fulfillment from the vendors of crystals, horoscopes, psychic readings, meditation tapes, and so on. One or two of these integrated into one's daily schedule may prove beneficial to one's spiritual growth. But if we make it a habit to collect information on every available technique for spiritual advancement, we'll find we don't have time to apply any of it to our daily walk with God. The New Age "marketing specialists" are competing for our dollars along with the commercial world. If you doubt it, flip through the pages of a few New Age magazines.

When, after 20 years, I was re-introduced to Cayce's readings, it felt like a homecoming for me. I came across Herbert B. Puryear's The Edgar Cayce Primer in the local bookstore and found, at last, an integration of the philosophy I adhere to and a theology that puts Christ at the center: "Take it to Jesus: He is thy answer. He is Life, Light and Immortality. He is Truth, and is thy elder brother." (1326-1)

Here was the personal relationship with Jesus Christ that I never found in Rosicrucianism or any of the other "isms" I had explored. Pearls of wisdom had shone forth from the various esoteric teachings, but they lacked the solid comfort I received from the Church's image of Jesus as our friend, as well as our Savior. Cayce's portrayal of Jesus as the Pattern and Way Shower for humanity reminded me to keep my eyes on Him when I am tempted to dabble in occult practices.
Cayce's readings taught me the difference between the mystical, the occult, and the psychic. "The mystical experience is the awareness of Oneness," wrote Puryear. "The occult is defined in the readings as the use of the mind's power without respect to purposes. The psychic is, according to the readings, of the soul, and the preferred terminology regarding the Spirit working through the individual and manifesting its gifts."
What a revelation! I could simplify my life by avoiding the "occult" altogether, and wait for my psychic gifts to emerge as the fruits of a spiritually disciplined life. Cayce's readings underscore the importance of some of my favorite Bible passages, such as: "Strive first for the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." (Matt. 6:33) And how about I Corinthians 13:2: "And, if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing."

Each of us has to make our own decision about the path of love and service we will take to the kingdom of God. For some, this may include one of the guideposts Cayce recommended, such as astrology, numerology, or the use of crystals. If you choose one of these, hear Cayce's admonition: "These do not give the messages. They only attune self so that the Christ Consciousness may give the message. Listen to no message of a stone, of a number, even of a star; for they are but servants of the Lord and Master of all even as thou." (707-2)

For my own life I have chosen prayer and service, mainly through the church. I like Cayce's advice: "A particular church organization is well. For it centers the mind. But don't get the idea that you have the whole cheese." (3350-1)
Knowing that I don't have the "whole cheese" is the spur that prods me to continue my quest for spiritual knowledge. And yes, I confess I am still tempted to dabble in the "unknown" from time to time. Even while working on this article I attended a past-life regression workshop. I went home with a throbbing headache and a bushel of doubts, so I don't expect to repeat the experience - in this lifetime!

One of the disciplines Cayce recommends that I like to dabble in occasionally is dream journaling. I am very irregular with this because documenting dreams cuts into my sleep-time, and after all, Cayce does recommend eight hours of this! One of my dreams that was worth waking up from featured a man who had a cup that re-filled itself with water every time he shared it with another person. After a while the cup's owner grew so fascinated with this phenomenon, he gave the water to others in order to enjoy the marvel. He forgot that the purpose of the "magic" cup was to quench the thirst of his friends. Then the water dried up and the cup remained empty.

This dream affirms my belief that we must first obey Christ's commandment to love our neighbors, and other gifts will follow. It also reminds me that, given the proper place in one's life, dream interpretation and other spiritual disciplines can provide guidance and confirmation for the journey
of life.