Archive for the Clairvoyance Category

~Light from Luzia~

Posted in Beauty, Clairsentience, Clairvoyance, Dreaming, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Love, Passion, Spirituality, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 2, 2013 by TaijituMartini

Image– thanks for the wise post

#6 is of particular importance for me these days…

For anyone reading who feels like they are drowning in a sea of pure energetic chaos at the moment,

have faith in something far greater than yourself,

never give up hope.

Just when you want to pack it in and give up,

stand strong,

stronger than you were before,

and just keep trekking…

Never give up on your dreams.

Life is a tough ride but #12 will see you through.


Blue Sky Breaking

Posted in Clairvoyance, Hope, Love, Spirituality with tags , , , , , , on October 20, 2013 by TaijituMartini


We hope that beyond the pain of loss there’s a time of peace and love that comes for the victims of violent crime and their families and friends.

I feel this time is coming for Tim Bosma and all those who cherished him.

 Truth is much stronger than evil. Evil can only hide for so long. The blue sky is breaking through the clouds.

Work has to be done. Factors have to be considered. Evidence has to be scrutinized. Minds have to merge in mysterious ways to highlight important information and bring the highest truth into the light.

The Globe and Mail released the following information on October 4th, 2013,

“Detectives have found “linkages” in three cases tied to Dellen Millard and have combined the investigations into a multi-jurisdictional probe headed by a senior Ontario Provincial Police officer. The cases – the murder of Tim Bosma, the disappearance of Mr. Millard’s friend Laura Babcock and the death of his father Wayne Millard – are being overseen by Detective Inspector Dave Hillman under the province’s major case management system.”

Millard and Smich are due back in court for a pretrial on Tuesday. If you read my previous blogs and my “Pandora’s Box” post you’ll understand a little more about how quantum entanglement fits in to this story. I have been connected to Tim’s story since May 6, 2013, when Tim first dissapeared. Tim’s energy has been with me ever since. Over the last two weeks the energies related to the case have been moving at a much faster pace, which has left me restless and without much sleep, but is also leading me to believe that answers are coming very soon. I feel answers will come closer to November 9th, and that the third person involved in the crime that I talked about in previous blogs will also be named. The MillardAir family hangar is also somehow playing a part in the case going forward, as well as strong evidence found at the farmland.

 Crucial information will be released soon and hopefully this will finally bring the truth into the light.

Truth for Laura Babcock and her family. Truth for Wayne. Truth for the Bosma family, and truth for Tim.


My Winged Angel

Posted in Agapornis Roseicollis, Animals, Clairvoyance, Dreaming, Gratitude, Hope, Humour, Love, Nostalgia, Protector, Spirituality with tags , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2013 by TaijituMartini


I once had a wonderful winged best friend. Her name was Zora. She would sit on my shoulder and fluff herself up and nestle in behind my ear and underneath my hair for warmth.  She would stay there for hours. She would eat breakfast with me and loved green apples and alfafa sprouts, but chicken was her absolute favourite food. Go figure. Good thing I never explained it to her or she would have been utterly horrified.  She would play cheeky little games with me. I’d make a little tunnel under the covers of my duvet and she would run in at a fast clip and hide in the far end the tunnel. I’d put my face up to the opening and make noises and call her name and she would come running out as fast as her little feet would go, nudge my nose with her little yellow beak, and perfectly imitate the sounds I was making right back.

She was a talented flyer, but when she’d decide to beat it across an entire room on those little twiggy feeties it would make my heart sing. It was the cutest thing. She was such a sweet little parrotlet. She was a hand-raised peach-faced lovebird, technically an agapornis roseicollis, but I called her all sorts of crazy names. My little agapornis had a million names, and a million adorable personality traits to match all the zany nicknames I christened her with.

She had a good life, better than good. I gave her everything. She was spoiled rotten and was hardly ever in her cage. I wanted to be with her every second I could. She was a wonderful friend. She was my very best winged friend. I was very lucky to have her and the love I received from her in return could never be duplicated twice in a lifetime.

She loved to travel, but wasn’t too impressed when she would spot cows in the pastures while we were in the car. She liked seeing horses but I don’t think she liked cows, she was afraid of them and would vocally let me know when we passed them grazing in a field. She loved to see new places, and in the summer she would chill with me outside on the deck and have conversations with all the other winged creatures that flew the skies. I always wondered what they were talking about.

She loved to sit on the shower curtain rod while I was showering and patiently keep me company until I was finished. Sometimes she would hang with me in the bathtub. She would run up and down my legs and try to bathe herself in the deep water, but I would protect her from falling in head first and she would settle for flitting around in the shallow water that would accumulate on my stomach. I would often give her a bath under a warm tap. She loved water. Afterwards, she would sit on the branch above her cage and groom herself happily until every feather was taken care of and she had deemed herself perfectly coiffed.

She would fly freely from room to room and squeak in delight when I would play hide and seek with her. Sometimes she would fly from the upstairs to the downstairs and I would hear a little chirp from somewhere far away to let me know where she was hiding. She liked to sit on windowsills, looking intently outside to check out the worlds happenings. At night she would fluff herself up while I was watching tv and make little grinding noises with her beak when she was completely content. She was toilet trained. Well, not really a toilet, but her cage. I would move her from my shoulder to my index finger, tell her to go do her business and she would fly over to the top of her cage and use the loo. Then she would fly back to my shoulder. Such an intelligent little soul.

She had a little triangular fluffy yellow bed that I hung in her cage nightly, and every night she would crawl in and put herself to bed, fluff herself up and get comfy, and then I would say, “Goodnight Z ” she would chirp a little goodnight right back from inside her cozy little yellow bed.

We were meant to be together her and I. It was two souls connecting on a spiritual level that could never be captured in words. It was a love unlike any other. It was a perfect love as deep as the oceans and as wide as the Universe. It still is. Infinite as the moon and the stars.

She passed away suddenly of a heart attack after sixteen wonderful years together. A quick passing without suffering.  Sixteen years of pure love and laughter. When I found her that night, almost two years ago to the day, I could feel her little soul sitting atop her favourite branch, looking down at me grieving, holding her tiny little body in my shaking hands. My girlfriend felt her there as well. We both knew she was still there, waiting to make sure we were ok before she moved on.

Zora wasn’t sure why we were suddenly separated. She would soon come to understand.  I knew she would be happy. She had other things to do. She had other adventures to embark on.  A soul that special would have important jobs to do on the other side. Now she was my Spirit Guardian and I felt blessed to know that she would be watching over me.

I asked her to come and visit me in my dreams the night she passed to let me know that she was alright, and she did, that very night. A beautiful vivid dream overflowing with the love that we shared for each other. She comes every so often to see me in the night, mostly when I ask her to, bringing my soul a little slice of happiness again, if ever so briefly, and I’m grateful for her visits. I’m grateful for the sixteen years we spent together, and the pure love she brought into my life. I miss her so, and wait patiently for that glorious day when we can finally be together again.

I love you Z.  Now, then, and forever.


Two weeks before she died I felt her death coming. My intuition told me I wouldn’t have her with me for long, so I took this picture one day after she’d had a bath, sitting on her favourite branch.  She’s smiling.

Go West-The Conclusion

Posted in Clairsentience, Clairvoyance, Hope, Love, Spirituality with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 14, 2013 by TaijituMartini


Where was I? Oh right, it’s going to be one hell of a fight. Inflammation of my brain and all that jazz. Not your average Tuesday.

I realized that I might still have a chance to get back down to my body. I was in a place where you think something and it just happens, right? Well then, I would make it so. Abracadabra. This was something I knew I had to do, not something I necessarily wanted to do. After an entire day of attack, I knew my body was the weakest it had ever been in my life. How would I ever have the strength to get back to it? Floating free of this heavy human shell was such a welcome relief. The lure of continuing this magic carpet ride on the other side was far greater than the desire to head back to that sick bed anytime soon.

It was definitely a P. Swayze moment, playing out exactly like that early scene from “Ghost” where Sam’s looking up in the street at the dazzling spirit lights calling him from the heavens, but he can’t bear to leave Molly and turns his back on them. I didn’t want to lose my chance like Sam, but I didn’t want this new found comfort to go away either. I knew though that as much as I wanted to stay in this warm beautiful place it was time to return to the land of the living. That’s when I got my voice. Well, not really my voice, it was all done telepathically. Didn’t I mention already that communication is super advanced over there? Here’s what I remember. I did what any good floating former-Catholic casper would do in my situation.

I prayed.

O.K Creator. God. Buddha. Allah. I’ll give you a few names as I’m not exactly sure who YOU are, but I can feel your presence. It was all around me. Please help me. I know I’m not always the best human being, but I think I’m a good person and I don’t think it’s my time to go. I feel that I have more to do. Please take away this horrible pain and help me to heal. I promise if you send me back I’ll work towards being better. In everything I do. I will dedicate myself to helping other people whenever I can. For the rest of my life. I promise you this. With everything I am. Please help me now. Help me. Help me to live.

In a blinding flash I was back in that heavy pain-ridden body again. I had shot there with such speed that the intense pain suddenly hit me again like a bus. The flood of emotion that  came next was almost too much to bear. I could feel oodles of warm tears flowing down the sides of both my cheeks. Was I crying? I guess I was. It was the release of everything. The pure joy of knowing I was going to live, and the deep pain of having to leave my greatest ecstacy behind. Let me tell you, once you’ve felt that kind of joy, life on earth is never the same again. I was absolutely heartbroken I had to leave it behind. My fever broke within minutes. I could actually feel my temperature dropping. The throbbing pain deep inside my skull began to subside. Slowly but surely I could feel myself coming back to life. Oh My God. They listened, and I was getting a second chance at life.

The weeks and months following the West Nile were challenging. Not much you can do other than retrain yourself. Baby steps they say. Simple things proved difficult, things we often take for granted, like walking a few steps forward in a line without falling over. My equilibrium was way off. My system had suffered a big blow.

I guess the government takes this sort of thing seriously. Public Health started stalking me the very next day. Doc Moron’s tests came back positive for WNND and I guess it was her duty to inform the city. At least she got something right. She even called me at home herself to tell me the crazy news, telling me how very rare it was, and how lucky I was to be young enough to fight it. I agreed to be monitored for a period of one year. I guess even ignoramus’ can improve their bedside manner when death is on the line.

It was protocol to assign me a private nurse, a friendly R.N that came twice a week for a year to draw blood, take my vitals, and monitor my progress with tests. In the first few months following I was having a lot of trouble with the simplest of things. One day I was given the task of spelling a few simple four-letter words backwards. I couldn’t do it. That was embarassing. Felt like such a tool. My brain just wasn’t ready to perform yet. Fine brain, I’ll take it easy. No advanced calculus for you. I had extreme fatigue and couldn’t walk properly, let alone around the block with my dog without collapsing in a heap. My R.N would explain just how lucky I was that summer. Her client list involved many of the other West Nile cases in the city. There was a huge jump in cases that summer compared to the year before. A mother of two young children who wasn’t much older than I was also got infected with West Nile around the same time. She was completely paralyzed from the waist down and was in a wheelchair. Her prognosis wasn’t good at the time. I hope she’s walking again today. She also told me that two of her other patients had lost their battle during the time she was monitoring my condition. I was grateful for my body now, as exhausted and un-cooperative as it was, it had carried me through all of this, and was working overtime to give me my life back. It took a good year before I was feeling strong again.

Leave it up to me to get the West Nile Virus. So random. Even more random was that I managed to trace the culprit mosquito back to my rooftop patio, and I can even remember feeling the exact bite as it chomped down on my arm. That was the night before the rash developed. I noticed it happening because it hurt. I thought it might have been a spider bite at the time. Mosquito bites don’t sting that much. West Nile bites do. This story is full of weird tidbits, but the strangest of all to me is that somewhere deep inside I knew that I had the West Nile Virus from the minute the rash showed up. Of course I’d googled rashes and probably came across pictures of West Nile rashes that looked similar to mine, but lying on the table in that doctors office I remember that my body was already telling me what I needed to know. My intuition was yelling it at me but I wouldn’t listen. No way, it can’t be that. Way too rare. I remember listening to my girlfriend getting increasingly annoyed, telling Doc Moron that it wasn’t the chicken pox, and I suddenly blurted out, “Maybe it’s the West Nile”. Cue the condescending attitude and a brief snicker-laugh from Doc Moron, “I don’t think so”.  Think again Doc Moron. Think again.

Turns out that nice RN that monitored my condition for a year afterwards is based out of the same University where I recently finished my degree. She worked there as part of the team that are conducting ongoing studies to monitor the epidemiology of West Nile patients. There’s that quantum connectivity again. See, I told you it’s everywhere. All my results are documented for posterity ten minutes away. Over the years I’ve occasionally been in contact with the MD that heads up the studies, and he’s invited me to take a trip there sometime to see all of my collected information, and to chat with him about some of the other cases and  long-term effects that still linger after recovery. I’d like to believe I’m back to normal, or as normal as I was before the West Nile knocked on my door, but the truth is I’m a completely different person now. Mind, body, and soul. My life will never be the same as it was before. A completely different existence now. I’m grateful for each minute, and work to keep my promise. The proof is in the pudding so they say. I appreciate all the moments that make up my life and try to help other people whenever I can. I strive to be a better person. My Spirituality has evolved and so have I. I was given the precious gift of knowing for fact that we are all part of a greater scheme. We are all connected. We will never truly be alone. It’s knowing that death is simply a doorway to the next place. What’s on the other side? Love.

I may be just one little speck, but it takes a million drops of water to make up an ocean. I play with a completely different deck now.

12 people lost their battle with the West Nile Virus that summer in 2005.

See, I told you the number 13 was my lucky number.

Live Your Dream

Posted in Clairvoyance, Hope, Love, Spirituality with tags , , , , on June 12, 2013 by TaijituMartini


When we discover our legend, what it is that we are truly meant to do on this earth, everything else pales in comparison. It’s the very heart of our soul, recognizing our life journey and guiding us along our authentic path. Dream it. Think it. Live it.

“I don’t want my thoughts to die with me, I want to have done something. I’m not interested in power or piles of money. I want to leave something behind. I want to make a positive contribution – know that my life has meaning.”
Temple Grandin

Pandoras Box

Posted in Clairvoyance with tags , , on June 11, 2013 by TaijituMartini


Everything is connected. Quantum entanglement is everywhere. You can often recognize the obvious connections but many times the subtlety of the entanglement is almost invisible and gets lost in the complex movements of the Universe.

Sometimes you’re lucky enough to catch it.

There I was. Minding my own business, enjoying the last bites of dinner at a ritzy restaurant, long-lost family members thrown together on all sides, laughing over wine-induced memories and an array of crazy idiocies from the past. Then it happened. Out of the blue my mother starts talking about Tim Bosma. She doesn’t know anything about my blog or the fact that I have been psychically connected to Tim’s story since May 6th. She tells us that she was once close to Dellen Millards father Wayne, whos mother Della was friends with my grandmother. When Waynes mother Della died, Wayne told my mother that he was going to have a baby and name the child after his mother. That’s how Dellen got his name. Soon after Dellen was born, Wayne brought him over to my house for a visit and I bounced a chubby Dellen Millard on my lap.

When I brought up the fact that Dellen was also being investigated for his fathers murder, my mother said, “Wayne was a pilot. He would never have shot himself in the eye.”

At that very moment she looked sad and the conversation ended. That was that. A moment where time and space collided, where across a table a mother and child connected ever so briefly over a common emotion, a Universal force that has touched us both in our own ways. My mother has witnessed my clairvoyance a million times but would rather change the topic. She knows it’s there but chooses to ignore it. She fears what she doesn’t understand. At that very moment a thought crossed my mind. I could reach out and say, “I started a blog mom and most of my posts have been focused on Tim since May 6th. I described the secluded farmland where Tim’s body would be found long before if came out on the news. I knew about the older style blue car involved in the case days before the picture was released. I picked up on information about the second suspect Mark Smich’s neighbour Fred before his name appeared on the news. I know they are still looking for someone because there are three people involved and they only have two…”

I don’t speak. I never say anything. It’s always been my private journey. I’ve lived my entire life that way and I’m comfortable as a mute.  Tim’s story has touched my life so deeply that I can’t rest until the puzzle pieces are all put together and justice is served. I wonder if my mother will ever find the strength to accept what she doesn’t understand? One day maybe.  Until then we will continue to live our separate existences.

 So very connected and yet so very far apart. That’s quantum entanglement for you.

The Road To Success

Posted in Clairvoyance with tags , , on May 31, 2013 by TaijituMartini


Sometimes when your destination is unclear and the bills pile up it’s hard to keep a smile on your face and a clever word on your pen. Life was snickering and endlessly tossing lemons at my head. Luckily it seems the tides may just be turning and the Universe may be rooting for me after all. I’m slowly starting to catch those tart little yellow balls with the intention of making one hell of a good lemonade. The wheels are turning. Send it out there. I did. Only you can be the master of your destiny, and just as you think you’re ready to give up, a window opens, the sun beams through, and you spot that beautiful glow of hope in the distance. This is what makes life so amazing.

Always keep that window open and never give up.

Anything less would be selling yourself short.

Carpe Diem.