Eyeball monsters, Spirits visiting the sewing room, winning a skateboard at the beach, and a not-so-secret nose piercing

In my last blog post I talked about my journey as a psychic medium and the fact that my mom was too. This is a deeper dive into the backstory, the one that began in my family’s “haunted” home, which we left when I was 6. This home was very remote - in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania…home of “The Endless Mountains.” I mentioned that I remember the house and the area crystal clear, like it was yesterday - despite my age at the time of living there.

Interesting side note - It was in an area named “Sky Meadows” which was intended to be the site of a big resort headed up by none other than 50’s swooner Pat Boone. An in-ground pool was even built on the property, one that my parents went to great lengths to keep empty for my safety. The resort went defunct before it even got off the ground and it’s been said that local investors were scammed out of money by Boone and his Seattle cohorts.

We ended up living in the big farmhouse on the property for free per a deal my parents made with the bank to do work on the home and property in lieu of rent. In hindsight, we probably had ownership rights by the time we moved out but it wouldn’t have mattered to my parents. My dad wanted to be closer to work than his hour plus drive and my mom wanted to be free of the curse she said she felt there. It didn’t matter that they had already blocked off the back half of the house, both floors. Permanently.

The main reason for making the back half a “do not enter” kind of place is because my mom said that ghosts were haunting her in her sewing room. The sewing room was glorious. It was the top back portion of the home with wooden floors, and windows that ushered in the sunlight like a tsunami. It was a fun place for me to be. The door to the massive room was always closed but an array of fun hippie stickers made it even more enticing. My mom was a talent to behold with sewing. She made winter coats with beautiful loop buttons, she made jeans with embroidered pockets, jean jackets, jumpsuits, shorts, handbags, you name it. She could create it!

I’ve been told that the Spirit world considers the act of sewing an invitation to visit. It makes so much sense now! My mom would talk about how she’d be sewing and hear footsteps that sounded like it was my dad entering the room. She’d feel a hand on her shoulder, only to turn around to…nothing. It happened frequently and it really got to her. Rather than taking the time to understand it better or even go to the library to research - she closed it off. Her fear led to her shutting down the connection, spiritually and quite literally. Bye bye beautiful sewing room. Bye bye sunshine. All that remained were the stickers on the outside of the door, taunting me of a place I could no longer go with a light so bright it was hard to imagine it sealed tight. The bottom floor portion was our family rec room. Also forbidden.

I think I loved the sewing room so much because I was seeing a different side of the nighttime Spirits, with whom I was becoming all too familiar.

The eyeball monsters weren’t inherently malefic, my toddler and young child brain simply didn’t understand them. One thing I knew with absolute resolution was that they were there. They weren’t something conjured in a sleep state and they weren’t nightmares.

Night after night, they visited me in my bedroom, sets of eyes coming through the wall. Sounds like a horror movie, I know! Questions arose…were we living on a sacred burial ground where we didn’t belong? Once we saw the movie Poltergeist, that was the ongoing perception of our past home. Nonetheless, at the actual time my eyeball “friends” visited, it couldn't be taken as lightheartedly as I speak of it now. I’d get scared, grab my blankie and go sleep on one of the steps leading to the first floor. Seems like an odd thing to do but I did it. Night after night after night, much to the dismay of my parents. When they blocked off the stairs each night so I no longer could use them as a bed, I adapted by parking myself and my blankie right outside of their bedroom door. This didn’t work for my parents either! I was overwhelmed by so many Spirits coming at me all at once. Every single night. I wasn’t asleep. In fact, I couldn’t sleep.

One night they went away for good. My mom and dad always thought it was a successful psychological manipulation of my tender, young mind. I happen to believe that the Spirit world decided that I wasn’t ready, I didn’t have the tools to understand, nor anyone to help me decipher the mystery. Fear isn’t something that the Spirit world considers an asset so they decided it wasn’t the right time for me to help them.

For the longest time I believed the story. My dad took the eyeball monsters to the junkyard. This was conceivable to me because visiting the junkyard was a frequent occurrence for my dad. He also physically left, drove away, waited a bit of time, then came home. It worked out for everyone. The Spirits went on their way and continued their search for humans to work with. I stopped sleeping in the hallway. Everyone got actual sleep. And the “junkyard” had some free range eyeball monsters to protect its hidden treasures. 

My mom’s intuition was always on point. She knew things before they happened. She could tell if someone was lying to her. She would do things and make decisions in accordance to visions and dreams that she had. It wasn’t a fluke, yet she continued to chock it up as “God’s will” or “the Lord guiding” her. There was one summer in Wildwood, New Jersey when skateboards had made their way back around in popularity and I wanted one. Of course it was the game most left up to chance - you pick numbers, the big wheel spins, most lose. My mom didn’t even play. Instead, in her most confident voice she said to me “we’ll come back tomorrow, Kirsti, after I dream of what numbers to play.” And just like that…the next day she won me a skateboard on the first play where she played 3 numbers. I went on and on in amazement about how she really did it! She’d just smile, slyly but also very humbly. She said she dreamt the numbers to play, woke up, wrote them on a piece of paper, and went back to sleep. She had such an extensive tool box, I wish it could’ve been used for more than a skateboard (that I never really ended up using)! One thing I know about that win? It wasn’t “God’s will.”

As I moved through my teenage years, my oldest brother joined the marines, my next oldest brother moved in with a girlfriend at 16, my parents would end up getting divorced (then remarried seven years later), I was suddenly navigating high school with a mom working multiple jobs, having never worked a day in her life prior to that and doing what I could to work and contribute financially. My mom worked for a cleaning company that cleaned major office buildings in the area and I ended up joining the crew too. We had side gigs cleaning smaller businesses late at night. It was at this time I really got to see the extremely intuitive side of my mom. I was in awe. She continued to downplay it but she had a gift. She also was a talented painter, seamstress, crafter, DIYer, in general. And she always knew exactly the right gifts to make for people. It wasn’t just that she was hand making gifts as an artist, she was throwing in a sprinkle of witchery to intuit what to paint on this or what kind of basket or box she’d make for that other thing she made. I always thought she wished I was more into the doing of those things so we could be makers together. What she didn’t realize was how much I was observing her with wide-eyed adoration. She wanted something to bond over. I was already bonding with how absolutely beautiful she was and how loving and compassionate she was toward others, not just friends…everyone. She once anonymously left an envelope full of money in the car of a less fortunate family that attended our church because she said they needed the money more than we did. She said she got the message to do so in a dream.

We did have our ups and downs though (I mean, even Lorelei and Rory Gilmore had some pretty epic battles). I was a boy crazy teenager without an on-site father and I was my own free-spirited person. At the same time, I was acting out…I was behaving in ways that weren’t great and I put myself in a lot of unsafe situations. I always thought it amusing that one of the most harmless acts on my part was one that my mom had such an issue with…the day I got my nose pierced after school with a group of girlfriends. It was 1992 and I got my left nostril pierced with an ear piercing gun. Ooof. My mom had no clue of the plan. There was no consent form to be signed. We just went and did it. I came home, admired it for a while then went to bed - until I was abruptly attuned to my mother yelling through the house, barging in my room, and asking “what did you do?” before ever even seeing my face (which was under the covers)! She didn’t have conversations with other parents. There weren’t cell phones back then. She was working a late cleaning job. But she knew…and now I knew that she knew…and so did the neighbors! Needless to say, that piercing did not make it to the next day.

I should add that many times in my life after that point I tried to get my nose pierced, to the chagrin of my employers - then had to remove the jewelry before it could heal. When I finally had a wide-open chance, I got that left nostril pierced again in the late 90’s and later did the right nostril and my septum to finally have the look that no one else had for so long but now is commonplace. For the record, she hated all three of my nose piercings right up until the day she died. She loved me unconditionally nonetheless.

These stories are a small sampling of the random magic that we’d invoke together. Not calling it magic. Not referencing the fact that we were witches. Not even knowing what to call it.

I had intuitive hits of knowing something would happen before it did. I’ve always been gifted with knowing when people are lying to me. And I’ve made jumps off rhetorical cliffs that were scary, simply knowing that the outcome would be in my favor. I’ve also cast big dream manifestation lists without attachment to the outcomes, such as manifesting my cafe, my school bus purchase to convert into a motorhome, multiple cross-country moves, and even the home I purchased in 2020. I listed dollar values, details, and timelines, all coming to fruition. I adapted trips based on my intuition and quickly pivoted when something felt off - to find out the reason why sometimes sooner, sometimes later. For the past 15 years, through intention and intuition, everything has been for my highest good. I haven’t forgotten others along the way. My heart has always been open and arriving on the path I currently travel is not only a gift for me, it’s a gift I wholeheartedly intend to share with others for the rest of this lifetime!

If this resonates, check out my website, my booking page, my Beans for Brekkie course, on Instagram, or in person at my office! I offer all of my services online and in person - mediumship readings, psychic readings, Reiki sessions, intuitive nutrition sessions, Reiki/nutrition combo sessions, and more!

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