12/02/2026
MAKING A CHANGE✨❤️
A few weeks ago, I experienced one of those readings that reminds me exactly why I do this work.
She hadn’t booked in advance.
In fact, J hadn’t planned to see a medium at all.
She walked into my shop, Free Spirit, almost hesitantly. A close friend had told her where I was situated and said, “I don’t know why… but I feel like this is something you need.” She told me later she nearly talked herself out of coming. But something nudged her forward.
Those are often the most powerful sessions.
There was a quiet fragility about her — not dramatic, not loud. Just a heaviness that had settled deep in her spirit. She said she didn’t even know what she wanted from the reading. “Maybe just peace,” she whispered.
As I began to open the connection, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The energy felt gentle but strong — like someone who had been waiting patiently for this moment.
A man stepped forward in spirit. He showed me the image of an old oak tree first — its roots deep and steady. Then I was shown a silver pocket watch, the kind you hold in your palm and feel the weight of time itself.
When I described the oak tree, her eyes filled. It was where she and her father used to sit when she was a child. Their place. Their sanctuary.
The pocket watch had been his. It had stopped at the exact time he passed.
But Spirit wasn’t finished.
He began speaking about words left unspoken — not from him, but from her. A letter she had written in her heart but never had the chance to say aloud. Regrets. Apologies. Gratitude. Love.
He wanted her to know he had heard it all.
Every thought. Every tear. Every “I wish I had told you.”
The room grew incredibly still. There are moments in this work where time seems to pause — where the veil feels thin and sacred — and this was one of them.
He spoke of pride. Of how he had never left her side. Of the small signs she had dismissed as coincidence. He even referenced a specific song that plays at the oddest times, something she had brushed off as random.
It wasn’t random.
By the end of the session, the energy around her had changed completely. The tightness in her shoulders had softened. Her breathing was different. Lighter.
When I asked her how she felt, she sat quietly for a moment before speaking.
She said, “I walked in here carrying guilt. I’m leaving with peace.”
She told me she had been stuck in the moment of his passing for years — replaying what she didn’t say, what she wished she’d done differently. But now she understood something profound: love does not wait for perfect timing. Love hears us, even in silence.
Before she left, she turned to me and said, “My friend was right. I didn’t know I needed this… but I did. This has changed something in me.”
And that is the true gift of Spirit communication.
Not spectacle. Not performance.
Healing.
Moments where the unseen becomes undeniable. Where love proves it is far more powerful than physical absence. Where someone walks in feeling broken and walks out remembering they are still connected.
Sometimes the most life-changing readings are the ones that were never planned.
— Warren Starling
A few weeks ago, I experienced one of those readings that reminds me exactly why I do this work.
She hadn’t booked in advance.
In fact, she hadn’t planned to see a medium at all.
She walked into my shop, Free Spirit, almost hesitantly. A close friend had told her where I was situated and said, “I don’t know why… but I feel like this is something you need.” She told me later she nearly talked herself out of coming. But something nudged her forward.
Those are often the most powerful sessions.
There was a quiet fragility about her — not dramatic, not loud. Just a heaviness that had settled deep in her spirit. She said she didn’t even know what she wanted from the reading. “Maybe just peace,” she whispered.
As I began to open the connection, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The energy felt gentle but strong — like someone who had been waiting patiently for this moment.
A man stepped forward in spirit. He showed me the image of an old oak tree first — its roots deep and steady. Then I was shown a silver pocket watch, the kind you hold in your palm and feel the weight of time itself.
When I described the oak tree, her eyes filled. It was where she and her father used to sit when she was a child. Their place. Their sanctuary.
The pocket watch had been his. It had stopped at the exact time he passed.
But Spirit wasn’t finished.
He began speaking about words left unspoken — not from him, but from her. A letter she had written in her heart but never had the chance to say aloud. Regrets. Apologies. Gratitude. Love.
He wanted her to know he had heard it all.
Every thought. Every tear. Every “I wish I had told you.”
The room grew incredibly still. There are moments in this work where time seems to pause — where the veil feels thin and sacred — and this was one of them.
He spoke of pride. Of how he had never left her side. Of the small signs she had dismissed as coincidence. He even referenced a specific song that plays at the oddest times, something she had brushed off as random.
It wasn’t random.
By the end of the session, the energy around her had changed completely. The tightness in her shoulders had softened. Her breathing was different. Lighter.
When I asked her how she felt, she sat quietly for a moment before speaking.
She said, “I walked in here carrying guilt. I’m leaving with peace.”
She told me she had been stuck in the moment of his passing for years — replaying what she didn’t say, what she wished she’d done differently. But now she understood something profound: love does not wait for perfect timing. Love hears us, even in silence.
Before she left, she turned to me and said, “My friend was right. I didn’t know I needed this… but I did. This has changed something in me.”
And that is the true gift of Spirit communication.
Not spectacle. Not performance.
Healing.
Moments where the unseen becomes undeniable. Where love proves it is far more powerful than physical absence. Where someone walks in feeling broken and walks out remembering they are still connected.
Sometimes the most life-changing readings are the ones that were never planned.
— Warren Starling ✨❤️
