Walk with me

I’m an evidential medium and a spiritual channel. I’ve been doing this for fifteen years, most of it here in Los Angeles, and the title still sounds heavier than the thing feels. So let me talk to you the way I would if you were sitting across from me.

How it started

I grew up outside Boston, got my degree in elementary education, taught elementary and high school, then got my master’s in educational psychology, which is what a fourth grader who wrote “someone who makes people happy” in his yearbook turns into. The other thing arrived quietly. Radios clicking on to the right song, a time on the clock that kept showing up, a timing to people and encounters that repeated too often to dismiss. It went well beyond those things, but it never announced itself. It just became obvious that more was going on than a radio turning on, a series of small things folded together with a feeling that seemed aware of me being aware of it. The feeling wasn’t outside me. It was familiar, like something that had always been part of me, and I could trust it. It never rushed me or asked to be named. It never had an urgent message. It was more like a calling back into myself: a presence, an awareness, a kind of electricity in how connected I felt to whatever was around me. What I’d call it now is spirit. Back then I didn’t have that word or any of the others, and I didn’t need one. When I met my husband it accelerated, and we became aware of it together, each with our own way in and the comfort of not being alone in it. Years later, traveling with my husband, I began telling strangers about the loved ones I could feel around them, always with permission, and it moved through the conversation like it belonged there. When we landed in Echo Park I printed business cards, left them on coffee shop counters on my walks with the dog, and within a week the phone was ringing. I walked into my first paid session terrified. Best decision of my life. Nobody handed me this, and I questioned it after every session for years. It held.

What a session is like

You don’t tell me anything ahead of time. We sit down, in person or on Zoom, and I tune in. Every spirit and every session is so different that I never know what to expect, and I’ve come to love that. What I do know is the intention I bring, love, compassion, and balance, and that it guides whatever flows through our time together. Your loved ones don’t show up with a generic I love you and I’m at peace. They have a lot more to say than that. They have what they consider their life with you and the people around you, and they share it in their own way. They come through in their tone, their rhythm, the way they would have talked to you, not just facts. What comes is rich: the things left unsaid, the things they couldn’t get to while they were here, the car they drove, the relationships, the memories. Never judgment, never fear, and no urgent messages, ever. In thousands of sessions, not one spirit has come through saying they weren’t okay. I just do the best I can with what they give me and hand it to you.

What people tell me afterward is rarely about the detail that landed. It’s that the room changed. Even the most skeptical person in the chair finds themselves with access to the love coming through, laughing more than they expected, and leaving lighter and clearer, often for days. Spirit also walks through the landscape of your own life, your relationships, your patterns, where your focus wants to go. Not coaching. A reconnection to your own knowing, the one the mind keeps distracting you from. Nothing new is being added. I’m reminding you of what was already there.

What I won’t do

I see patterns of energy, not verdicts. I won’t tell you whether to leave him or whether she’s toxic; that chair is yours. I’ll pick up what’s already in motion, the near things, but I don’t do fortune telling. No soulmates, no lottery numbers, no ten-year plan. That kind of prediction takes away the one thing this is actually about: your own focus, and how it shapes what comes next. This isn’t cold reading: no broad statements, no fishing. If I can’t connect, you get a full refund. That has always been the rule.

In the room I’m not solemn. I laugh a lot, I’ll say the strange small detail out loud before I know what it means, and you tell me what you recognize. Underneath that there’s something quiet, and that’s the part doing the work.

Before you book

There’s nothing to prepare. The one thing I ask is that you hold off on sharing anything about who you’re hoping to connect with or what’s going on in your life until we’re in the session. Questions about how I work are always welcome. The rest I’d rather receive fresh. Over the years I’ve found the connection is clearest when it’s purely inspired, not a mix of inspiration and what I already know. We sit for ninety minutes, in person in North Hollywood or on Zoom, and it’s the same either way. It’s recorded, and the recording is yours. Whoever shows up, shows up, and it’s usually exactly who needed to.

However you arrived here, through a quiet nudge, a moment of curiosity, or a feeling you couldn’t quite name, I’m glad you did. Come as you are.