Can You Still Feel Them?
Why We Need to Normalize the Unseen
I want to tell you about something that happened this week, because I think it matters more than we realize.
I went to drop off my dry cleaning, and the woman behind the counter, someone I see a couple times a month, was teary eyed.
And I'll be honest with you…
my first instinct was to drop the bag and run.
That's how uncomfortable we are with other people's emotions sometimes. Maybe that's just me. But I've been learning, through my work as a coach, how to actually sit in someone's grief and sadness and anger without flinching away from it, without needing to fix it or flee it.
So instead of running, I stayed.
I asked her what was wrong.
She told me her son had passed away recently… unexpectedly. She was completely enveloped in the grief of it.
If I hadn't had the experiences I've had over the past year with mediumship and psychic readings, I probably would have given her the cookie cutter response. I'm so sorry. I'll keep you in my thoughts. Let me know if you need anything. Instead, the first thing I asked her was:
"Can you sense him around you?"
I watched the shock move across her face.
It was just the two of us in that space, and she opened up. She prefaced everything by saying she'd never really believed in this stuff, that she wasn't the type to think ghosts or signs were real. And then she told me this beautiful story about a moment when she just knew it was him. Something he used to do with her when he was still here physically happened again, and her brain immediately went into rationalizing mode, looking around for what might have fallen or shifted. But underneath the rationalizing, she said, she just knew.
And then she said something that stuck with me: "Even if it's not real, even if it's not actually happening, it makes me feel better. So I'm glad it makes me feel better."
I just smiled at her, small and quiet, and said, "He is with you."
Right then, someone else walked in. A man who didn't seem like the type who'd want to witness a conversation like that. And it ended, just like that. Abruptly. Closed back up.
Why This Makes Me So Sad
We've all lost someone or something we loved. A person, a pet, doesn't matter who or what. And after they're gone, so many of us have these experiences, these little nudges that feel like they're saying I'm still here, I'm okay, I haven't left you. But we can't talk about it. Not openly. Not without worrying that someone's going to think we're crazy.
I think about my dad, and how for so long after he passed, he would flicker the lights whenever I felt an intense wave a grief moving through me. I also have a friend who has pennies show up in the most unlikely places whenever she is thinking of her dad. And it’s because we are open that we allow these small, beautiful reminders to give us a moment of peace to know they are still here. Just because someone isn't here in physical form doesn't mean they're not still with us.
Grief is hard enough. It's never easy to lose someone in this physical realm, to not be able to hug them or hear their voice the normal, human way. But imagine how much lighter that grief could feel if we let ourselves believe, even a little, that they're still close. If this was just... normal. Something we could say out loud without bracing for judgment.
A Simple Invitation
If you know someone who's lost a person or an animal they loved deeply, I want to encourage you to ask them something simple: Can you still feel them?
That question alone opens a door. Even if they haven't noticed anything yet, it plants a seed of curiosity. It might get them paying attention in a way they weren't before.
And if it's you who's grieving, give yourself the same invitation. Find a quiet moment. Settle in. Open yourself up. And just allow whatever wants to come through, to come through.
Sometimes that's all it takes.
If this resonated with you, I'd love for you to join me inside the Skool community, where we're building a space where none of this has to be quiet anymore. Come experience it with us.
Like reading this kind of thing?
I write about intuition, expanded awareness, the unseen, and the deeper questions that come up when you start looking at life a little differently.