"There’s Someone Who Wants To Chat With You. His Name Rhymes with Snake"

I was 18 years old.

This was many years before I had experienced anything directly spiritual. I’d had no real pull toward anything like that not until my awakening at 23.

I was sitting at home scrolling through the internet on my phone when I came across an ad for a psychic.

He was about 45 minutes away from where I lived, in the south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne.

I was curious. I got in touch and arranged a session.

It was my first time doing anything like that and honestly, he was fantastic. He worked out of a quiet room in his home. We sat down and he recorded the session onto a CD so I could play it back later. This was in 2011.

He began by talking about my life.

He said I’d just come out of a difficult patch but that things were going to get better.

I told him I wasn’t happy at work, and he said: "You’ll eventually work at a Welsh-sounding business.”

It made no sense at the time.

But he was right. At 26, I joined a business with a Welsh-sounding name.

The way I got that job is a blog post in itself.

The session lasted about an hour. I can’t remember all the details. I wasn’t journaling back then. And the CD, I gave it to a partner I was with at the time and never got it back.

But one thing stands out, crystal clear.

Toward the end of the session, the psychic asked me if I wanted to speak with someone who had passed.

I looked at him curiously. "Really?”

“Well… yeah, I guess.”

He nodded, then said:

“There’s someone who wants to chat with you. His name rhymes with Snake.”

I stared at him.

I told him yes, I had lost someone.

A good mate. Someone I’d played footy with for 10 years. A genuine guy. Our families were close.

He’d passed suddenly in a motorbike accident.

He was away for the weekend with a family friend when it happened, lost control and hit a tree.

I told the psychic this, and he just smiled.

“He seems like a cheeky character,” he said.

“I can see him clearly sitting on his motorbike, blasting music. Loud. ”He wants you to know he’s got a motorbike up there too. Still playing music loud. And he’s saying not to worry, he’s in a great place.”

I was shocked. I started crying.

The psychic just looked at me calmly, like this kind of thing happened to him all the time.

Then, suddenly, he turned his head to the side like someone was whispering in his ear. “Oh, come on,” he said, laughing. "I can’t say that.”

He looked at me with a grin.

“He just said he checks out women from up here and he can’t get in trouble for it.”

I sat there stunned. Tears, laughter, disbelief, all at once.

It was a lot to take in at the time.

But it didn’t turn me off at all. It brought me peace.

And somewhere deep inside, I knew: There’s something going on far beyond my limited ability, back then, to understand the extraordinary.