I remember sitting in the audience many years ago when Trance Medium, Thomas Jacobson, would go into trance to channel Dr. Peebles. His stomach would suck in, his head would jerk back, and this booming, loving voice would come out of him and pour over all of us.
Although the words were amazing, I could not help but wonder the whole time what it was like for Thomas while he was in trance. I was absolutely fascinated by the process, as it was clear to me that this was not some kind of performance, but a miracle that I was witnessing every time. I think I remember Thomas saying that, for him, it was like standing in a golden field of light, wrapped up in unfathomable love.
For me, the experience has been different. No doubt, I do feel the unfathomable love, but I’m not standing in a golden field. Instead I sit with this intense pulsing energy. Imagine that initial rush when you are on a roller coaster as it takes that first plummet. Imagine if that sensation lasted for a whole hour! That’s what it’s like for me. Oddly pleasant, but nevertheless exhausting.
I recently chatted with a friend who is an Interior Designer. I said, “Imagine if you walked into a building to do interior design, and you immediately went to sleep while your body continued sleep walking. And then, when you woke up and you were outside of the building, and everyone is applauding you and congratulating you on a great job, but you had no idea what you had done, and you were never able to go back into the building to see it.” That’s what my life as a Trance Medium has been like. I have had to trust every time I channel, for nearly 29 years, that whatever happened was a job well done. Fortunately sometimes people let me know explicitly how it changed their life.
Why such a difference in experiences? Well, all I can say is that we all experience similar experiences differently, because we are different. We’re all human, but we all have different experiences of being that. If we can come to understand this, we might be gentler and kinder to one another.
