Truth is stranger than fiction. This leg of my journey started with an epiphany and the thought, “It’s crazy enough it just might work.”

I have been searching for a way to fulfill my destiny for 60 years. I remember sitting in the dirt by an abandoned apple orchard, around age six, and begging the universe not to make me do this. I tried sneaking my message into a piece of fiction many times over the years, but my efforts fell short of inspirational. I wonder how many pieces of fiction have actually been used in this way? I felt seen when I watched “The Sixth Sense.”

I’ve always known the realm of beings existed, and it is equally our home. The first “castaway” being that came to me for help was a Native American gentleman who stood by my bedroom window each afternoon when I was three or four. I looked forward to his visits. He was my special friend. He never looked directly at me, but searched the room looking for someone or something. I didn’t realize he was looking for me at the time. I don’t think he knew it either.

I was probably seven years old when I saw a being like no other I had seen before. Something woke me during the night. Curled on my side in the queen bed I shared with my elder sister I could see down the hall that connected our home’s four bedrooms and two baths. A large figure was walking towards me. It moved arms and legs as an adult human, but wasn’t made of flesh. It was a mass of varying dots of color that moved within the form.

I knew it wasn’t my mother, but I spoke the question, “Mom?” anyway, hoping to make the apparition disappear, but it continued lumbering towards the open doorway slowly and methodically. Frightened, I pulled the covers over my head and held my breath, not knowing what to expect. I waited listening, eventually daring to breathe. After several more minutes I found the courage to lower the bedding and peer out. The being was gone. Had it entered my parents’ room? I wouldn’t leave the fortress of my bed to look.

I told my mother about our visitor the next morning, examining her eyes for any signs to concern me. She appeared her usual self and said it was just my guardian angel checking in on me, but I know my guardians, this was not one of them. I believe now it was a collector of castaway souls, those too positive to be absorbed by the depths of hatred, greed, vanity, sloth, etc., but they had failed to rise up themselves. They came to join me in the hopes I would succeed where they had failed.

I was born with an overdeveloped sense of justice. As I grew older I became more afraid of what would happen if I didn’t share my “gift.” Would wander the Earth looking for another collector of castaway souls? It was hard to stay in the closet. My children were in their 30s before I shared this side of their mom. It can’t be easy to learn your mother has been lying to you all your life. They’d always seen me as a hard-working, responsible person, punctual and well organized, but imaginative and fun. Am I obsessive compulsive? I can’t deny it.

I’ve never had a relationship last more than two years, and have been alone the majority of my life – to the human eye. I’ve shared some of my oddities with various partners, coworkers and friends over the years, and most have accepted the social, environmental and political activism I have appeased my beings with.

It was my frustration with finding someone to travel with me that sent me on a cruise to Alaska alone. Do you have any idea how many castaway beings are hanging out on cruise ships? I had to hide in my stateroom a majority of the time because I was being inundated with requests for help. Many of these being are still with me, including a Shaman I picked up during a port excursion.

People in turmoil are drawn to me, sensing an opportunity to safely bare their souls. I know the energy in a room changes drastically when I enter. My aura is bright and strong due to all the energies connected to me. Most people find me relatable because I am imperfect and unapologetic. They seek my advice sensing that I can be trusted.

My main goal is to assist the beings trapped here. The living are not my favorite people, but I believe I can help them find peace, understanding, and direction. These sessions are one-on-one, by donation, to pay for my burial, and eventually, the burials of those who have lived their lives to benefit all.