When I first started my work as a psychic in 2011, I started from a mindset that the people who hired me would be telling me their truth as best as they could.

When they told me about the emotions or circumstances they experienced, I believed them — and I asked clarifying questions from there.

It shocked me how many times I heard them say…

“Oh, my god. Thank you. I thought I was going crazy.”…

… or …

“Thank you. No one believed me, and I thought I was making this up.”

Remember, they were talking about their own internal experiences.

• Emotions they had.
• Psychic experiences.
• Sensations in their own body.

Things that other people could not go in and dispute!

But apparently that didn’t stop them from denying it.

I found it odd someone would argue with someone who said, “I am angry.”

Don’t we know how we feel better than other people do — at least most of the time?

(Sure, there are exceptions. We occasionally blind ourselves to our own feelings and live in denial land. But most of the time, we know how we feel.)

Most of us live in a culture of emotional abuse and gaslighting. We’ve been taught that our own internal experiences are wrong, or incorrect. They can’t be trusted. Trusting ourselves and our perceptions is dangerous or ill advised.

Or so they say.

Here’s what I say.

Despite our occasional blind spots, most of us can be trusted to know what we feel and how we experience the world — to know what is genuinely helpful for us and what isn’t.

In my work as an energy healer, course creator and psychic there’s one common thread – when someone comes to me with their lived experience, I trust them.

My job is to fully see them, their wounds, their emotions – the totality of who they are – through the lens of love and acceptance.

If they present with a physical illness, I welcome the whole of them and love the whole of them. I love and accept them not despite the illness, but because of it. The same is true with deep traumas – if there was childhood abuse, I love them because of the abuse. Not despite it.

I love the wounds and I witness them fully, no matter how gruesome or terrible it might be.

My love for my clients is unconditional – it’s not about forcing them to be healed. Healing cannot be forced, anyway. It can only be allowed. When I have a rape survivor who struggles with intimacy, my focus is on loving her exactly as she is. I love her shame (especially when it’s not warranted).

We believe fully seeing or loving something – Witnessing – will somehow make it stay around longer. In my experience as a healer, the opposite is true.

If I can witness someone’s deepest, darkest emotions that hold the most shame and self-loathing – while holding the individual in the light of love – it usually allows my clients to see that they are not unlovable. They are worthy of love. It helps them feel as though they are not alone.

A wound needs a witness, friend.

We can do this for ourselves, too.

I call this the Divine Witness, the internal part of ourselves that can watch our own thoughts and emotions unfold without becoming entangled in them.

It takes practice. Most of us have plenty of experience entangling ourselves in our emotions and simultaneously not believing our own experiences – we learn to gaslight ourselves.

This part of the work is my favorite. I don’t know why people pay me to do it, because this is the stuff I can’t get enough of — the realness, rawness, weird-as-shit-ness of human existence, the beauty of the emotional mess we often find ourselves in.

I love having the opportunity to see beyond the masks of people and see into their hearts.

I love seeing how incredibly strong my fellow humans are.

The things my clients have survived… they blow me away.

I love them. All of them.

The ones who I served really well and are current clients. The ones I dropped the ball on for various reasons (usually my own medical reasons). The ones who were dissatisfied or who weren’t quite the right fit – I love them all.

I love having the opportunity to love them all.

Witnessing people’s hearts is what I was made for. It’s messy. It’s beautiful.

And I encourage you to witness your own messy, beautiful heart today.

xoxo
Rev. “EA” Kerti