Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Coming Into My Own
The universe is full of surprises, even for a psychic like me. Sometimes I can't believe my life's story includes raising an awesome family, enduring devastating loss, and communicating with enlightened souls on the Other Side. I've come to embrace the unpredictability, chaos, and beauty of it all, which has led to profound happiness--though, trust me, it wasn't always this way. I had to learn how to utilize divine guidance, listen to my intuition, and grow from my experiences to create the life I love.
Every one of us has what I call a Universal Team of Spirit, including angels, spirit guides, departed loved ones, religious deities, and other evolved souls who help you maneuver through life's ups and downs. And during many difficult years, it was my own Team that helped me move forward. As I did, they carefully revealed an effective approach that has taught me to connect with my highest angels and spirit guides, call upon them, and engage their very best guidance. This is the Believe, Ask, and Act process--three simple and powerful steps that hone your intuition, set change in motion, and clear roadblocks that stand in your way to happiness. No matter what challenges I face, these valuable steps are the reason I wake up every day thinking, I've got this. It's the most empowering feeling I know.
In this chapter, I'd like to share my story so that you can see how Spirit has helped shape my world since I was a child and continues to do so through Believe, Ask, and Act. In fact, my Team tells me it's no coincidence that they introduced me to the steps during my darkest times. They wanted to make sure I understood every aspect firsthand so that I could compellingly share it with clients, and now with you.
A SPIRITED CHILDHOOD
I've been gradually feeling, seeing, hearing, and dreaming of Spirit since I was five years old, but I wasn't able to truly understand what I sensed or make practical use of it until later in life. These encounters ran the gamut from obscure to creepy to awe-inspiring. My earliest experiences occurred at my uncle's house, where I simply sensed a presence in the basement that made me want to bolt upstairs--it was jarring to feel that "someone" was with me whom I visibly couldn't see. Sometimes I'd look down his hall and feel like a person should be there, though I'd never witness a figure or shadow with my naked eye; my instincts just told me a being was hanging around. In retrospect, I believe this was Spirit's way of gently revealing my gift to me--here, I'd feel a soul's presence, which is called clairsentience--so I wouldn't become too overwhelmed or scared by the range of my abilities. Had I, say, heard a disembodied voice or seen a full apparition so young, it might have led me to ignore or fear any kind of divine communication and therefore hesitate to pursue my gift as an adult.
During my grade school years, I began having more obvious encounters with the Other Side. Most of them were comforting and related to family, home, and spiritual references that I could understand. For instance, I often dreamed about enormous, magnificent angels. In one dream, I was with my brother Anthony. We were in a giant field, and when we both looked at the sky, it just . . . opened up for us. Amid the ethereal white clouds, I could see the general shape of huge, brightly lit feet walking above me. I remember Anthony telling me to "stop staring" at them, but I just couldn't! That's when a bluish-white angel the size of a skyscraper emerged. And while I couldn't see the details of its face or clothes, I was captivated by its large wings and the gentle, protective feeling I had in its presence. I now know this was Archangel Michael, because he's since shown me his blue light during meditations. Looking back, I believe he was sent by God to hold my attention so that I'd stay open to my future spiritual path.
Around the age of twelve, I had similarly vivid encounters with my great- grandmother Alessandra's soul after she died. We were very close while she was alive, and I loved hearing her stories about what it was like for her to move with her family from Rome to New York. I remember watching her cook meatballs in a cast-iron pan and picking fresh mint and basil with her in the garden. My great-grandmother actually lived with my uncle for many years, and when she passed away, he left the majority of her room intact. I often snuck into this area to feel her presence around me. I'd touch the white and ruby-red rosary beads that still hung on her bedpost, run my hand over her paisley bedspread, and hold a small porcelain doll that usually sat on her dresser. I could feel her energy surround and envelop me as I did, and I knew her soul was with me as I interacted with the objects she'd once adored.
A few startling encounters with Spirit occurred when I was young, too, which often happens to intuitives, though many don't publicly talk about it. When a psychic medium hasn't learned how to establish boundaries, all kinds of energy, some better or "higher" than others, can reveal themselves to her. This first occurred when I was nine years old, and a thick, opaque shadow with a tall, broad form and pointy ears passed outside our living room window. It scared the bejesus out of me--I ran upstairs, crying, and told Mom that a scary creature was creeping around the house. This didn't seem to faze her, as she tried to calm me down. What Mom didn't reveal was that she'd serendipitously arranged to have a psychic over the next day, who cleared the negative energy from our home. Mom never told the psychic what I saw; the woman sensed this on her own, and ten years actually passed before Mom even told me about what made the negative energy disappear.
Believe it or not, the experience with the shadow wasn't half as terrifying as when Spirit revealed the extent to which I could forecast sickness and death. During my great-grandmother Alessandra's final month alive, I could smell her illness and impending passing; it was a thick, stale odor. And in my early teens, when my friend Lori and I were at a wedding together, at one point she looked to me as if she were engulfed by a misty gray cloud or aura. I had to squint to see her face. It was confusing because Lori was such an upbeat and joyful person; what I saw wasn't in sync with her personality. I never said a word about it to anyone, but the next day, I was devastated when my mom told me Lori had died from a sudden illness. I'd seen it coming in a way, and the gravity of this realization weighed on me. Having the foresight to know a person might die--yet no capacity to affect such an outcome--was extremely heavy and hard to process, especially as a child.
My abilities continued to open and expand into my late teens, and thankfully the large majority of them were positive and fun. I dreamed of other time periods in France and Italy that I believe were past lives. And when close family members died, they'd playfully pay me a visit. I remember gathering for Sunday dinners with my living family and seeing deceased loved ones at the table, too! My mom is also intuitive, and she and I began having the same dreams about my departed grandmother and my aunt Rose. We could both describe what their hair looked like, what they were wearing, and what they talked about--to a tee.
It had become increasingly clear that I had a stronger intuition than the average bear, and the more I accepted it, the more Spirit validated it. I'd guess songs on the radio before they played or know how a conversation would go down before it happened. With the exception of sensing illness, which I tried my best to tune out, I was no longer startled or surprised when I could exercise my psychic muscle--in fact, I got a real kick out of it! I considered my abilities to be a pretty cool gift that I was born with, the way some can tinkle a song on the piano by ear. But I still couldn't use it consistently or at will.
BEING MY MOTHER'S DAUGHTER
Most of the women in my mom's family are, or were while they were alive, psychic to varying degrees, so I was taught to embrace my random experiences and abilities as part of who I am. This didn't conflict with these women's faiths, since the Northern Italian matriarchs in my life always embraced a cultural blend of spirituality or mysticism and organized religion. So many Italians do, though most don't realize or acknowledge it. For instance, the Italian horn, or corno, is meant to protect against the evil eye; it's been said to represent the Virgin Mary standing on a lunar crescent. But even further back, it's thought to symbolize the Old European moon goddess. Or what about Saint Padre Pio? He was an ordained priest who bore the stigmata but also had healing gifts and the ability to read souls like angels.
Though both spiritual and faithful influences were all around me, I was never raised with a religion. My dad didn't subscribe to one, and after Mom gave birth to me and my brother, she left Catholicism and embarked on her own spiritual quest. Our family celebrated Christian holidays like Christmas and Easter, but Mom referred to God as an energetic higher power that created the universe. As early as grade school, she taught me to believe in spiritual teachers like Jesus and Buddha--or "higher masters," as she called them--spirit guides, angels, and the idea that our souls graduate to different planes of consciousness when we die. During elementary school, I attended spirituality conferences with Mom, and we'd meditate together almost every night. During this, she said I should see colors or images in my "third eye," or "mind's eye," though I never could. I did learn the practice of being still while other kids threw tantrums, and on weekends, Mom and I would wonder what God had in store as many churchgoers were told the best stuff already happened. Mom kept her mind open to new metaphysical theories and inspired me to do the same.
So imagine Mom's complete and utter thrill when she went to see a reputable psychic medium named John Edward--young, talented, and still working out of his mother's basement in Long Island. She was referred by a friend at work. I was about eighteen at the time, and during her reading, he told Mom that I, too, was a medium who hadn't learned to hone her skills yet. Though she wasn't too surprised, Mom was so excited to tell me this. John might as well have said I'd become a doctor! This was a fascinating validation for me, as well, because when I'd meet psychics through my mom, a voice inside would say, "You can do that," but it felt silly to admit this aloud.
Since I was on the cusp of adulthood, it was cool to hear a psychic reveal that I had such a wild future ahead of me. And while I'd met gifted intuitives through my mom, I didn't know there was a distinct group of them that could connect with the afterlife the way John does. He knew details about my family's past, present, and future--all from departed loved ones-- that were so accurate, it blew Mom away. So for him to say our abilities were similar? This was like hitting the cosmic jackpot for a spiritual mom and her curious daughter. A medium! I thought. That's what I'm called! And then: Holy crap. How do I learn to do this?
I began to search for more information about what lay ahead of me, but I couldn't get a handle on how one is meant to hone any intuitive ability, much less spin it into a fulfilling life. I tried using tarot cards, but I couldn't get them to work. I meditated every day, hoping for an epiphany or vision, but I saw only the backs of my eyelids. I attended a few Spiritualist events, but at that age, I couldn't relate to their woo-woo vibe. I read metaphysical books about stating intentions, but they never told me how to act on them, so I put those aside and picked up memoirs by famous mediums like Sylvia Browne and James Van Praagh. These were always fascinating, but they didn't offer the practical answers I craved.
Back in the real world, I was in my twenties, working long hours in the retail industry and going out at night. Clearly, the psychic thing wasn't panning out as I'd hoped, though I still had an uncanny sense for when I was about to get a raise and could give a friend spot-on advice that'd later come to fruition. I also continued to dream of angels and have mind- blowing premonitions. I'll never forget when I was cruising down the highway with a friend and heard a voice inside me say, "Pull over. There's going to be an accident." Just as I did--bam!--a small black compact slammed into a massive tractor trailer, right where my car had been seconds earlier.
This was all really helpful and fascinating to me, but again, I wanted to sharpen my intuitive abilities and be able to use them in a consistent way-- though Spirit had no plans to hand me my road map anytime soon. In fact, I remember a dream I had where I was sitting on a sofa next to my grandmother's soul as she was quietly knitting, and I asked her about my gift. She responded by placing her index finger over her lips, like the old lady whispering hush in Goodnight Moon.
