Awakening Read online

  But this is a two-way street. Some spirit people are better communicators than others, just as some human beings are better communicators than others. That’s why you often find that a newly crossed-over person receives assistance from someone who died long before, to help them “learn the ropes,” you might say.

  WCS: In my research I came across this symbolic shorthand repeatedly. Interestingly, flowers and floral scents play a major role in my Lily Dale books as Calla connects with spirits. So, are the spirits of our loved ones with us 24-7 or do they touch in and out?

  LT: When we invite them into our lives, they’re more likely to stop by—just like with our friends and relatives here. So it’s a touch-in-and-out process. Invitation and openness help immensely. Ask for them, keep them near, in your mind and heart.

  WCS: Ask for them aloud?

  LT: Yes, if that’s your style.

  WCS: Or do they “hear” our thoughts?

  LT: They do indeed “hear” our thoughts. So if you don’t like talking to your long-lost loved ones aloud, reaching out mentally is fine.

  While you were gathering information for your books, did you ever ask any mediums in Lily Dale for their help?

  WCS: As part of the research process, I’ve had readings with a number of mediums there over the past several years, though I never mentioned that I was writing a book. Several of them picked up on that, though. When I did approach the Assembly office at Lily Dale, I was warmly welcomed and officially put in touch with Donna Riegel. She graciously answered all my questions, did an incredibly accurate (and emotionally moving) reading for me, then invited me to sit in on her beginning mediumship class that evening.

  When you were young and just developing your abilities, were you ever frightened or wary, as Calla is, of your experiences or of spirits?

  LT: Mostly I was more frightened of the reaction of adults! The spirits never once bothered me in that way. It’s when I would say something adults knew I had no knowledge of that the trouble started. The “how did you know that?!” reaction. In fact, my kindergarten report card had an Outstanding mark in imagination and another for storytelling— only it wasn’t my imagination and I wasn’t telling stories. Like a lot of naturally talented young mediums I was only reporting my experiences.

  WCS: Meaning you were in touch with “imaginary friends” who were actually spirits?

  LT: Yes, my imaginary friends were spirits. Children between the ages of three and five in particular have such experiences. For some children, though, it persists. In those cases, it’s possible that the child is indeed connecting with spiritual energy and has a sensitivity that is just extended beyond the usual realm. Not really a “sixth sense” but extended sensory perception in general.

  WCS: What advice would you give a teenager who may feel that he or she has intuitive abilities?

  LT: First, don’t panic. Second, start keeping a record or journal— privately. This isn’t something you write to post on MySpace or Facebook. Record your dreams. Impressions. What comes to you. What you immediately connect it with. Also make quiet time—meditate or sit alone quietly, regularly.

  Then, start practicing with fairly immediate feedback situations to “fine-tune” things. Tune in to what you think your best friend is going to wear on Friday, but do it on a Tuesday. Write it down. Then see if you’re correct. Stand before the door you think will open in a bank of elevators. That kind of thing. This builds your sensitivity.

  WCS: You had mentioned that you teach people to “safely” communicate. Would you elaborate on this, since the whole thing is a little scary for someone who isn’t accustomed to the idea?

  LT: I am a big believer in what I call Declaration. This is self-empowerment. Boundary-setting. For example, “I am not open to spirit communication unless it is positive for me and others” or “I will not have my sleep disturbed” or “I accept only what is in my highest and best interest to know.” Just as you might set boundaries in a personal relationship with a friend, you do so with the spirit world.

  WCS: Do spirits frequently visit us in our sleep? I’ve been reading about that phenomenon.

  LT: Yes, they often come in our sleep. That’s because we’re most relaxed then. So in addition to record keeping, it’s smart to take meditation time or quiet time, even if it’s for only five minutes a day. Then you find that you experience the spirit energies and communications while you’re awake, and you sleep better. Now, if you have a truly powerful unforgettable “dream”—the kind in which you can remember every detail weeks, months, or even years later— that’s possibly an actual spirit visitation that happened during sleep. Those are rare compared to regular dreams but unforgettable if you’ve had one.

  WCS: I find that comforting! It’s happened to me and to my siblings and husband and father. My father, sister, and I all had dreams about my mom, not long after she had passed, and in all of them she was wearing red (we found this out after the fact and the coincidence struck us!). Do you think there’s some kind of symbolism or meaning there? We all strongly felt these were visitations and not just “dreams.”

  LT: When you have that sort of “collective” experience with matching details, you can be assured it’s a visitation. And colors often are part of the message.

  WCS: I want my readers to know that Lily Dale is a real place. They can visit www.lilydaleassembly.com for more info about it. Dr. Lauren, you’re there during the summer “season,” correct?

  LT: Yes, I’m one of forty or so registered mediums. Have you spent much time in Lily Dale yourself?

  WCS: I’ve been visiting Lily Dale many times a year for as long as I can remember—I grew up a few miles away and return to my hometown every couple of months to visit my family, who all remain in the area. I often make my way to the Dale, not just for research or spiritual healing, but because it’s a beautiful, serene setting in any season.

  LT: What is your most vivid memory of Lily Dale?

  WCS: It was the last place I visited with my mom before she passed away in May 2005. She was in her early sixties and dying of breast cancer, and I had sadly been called home. My father, husband, two little boys, and I took her to her final radiation treatment, then went for a drive because she couldn’t bear to return home yet. It was a cold spring day, and we were all crammed into my father’s car, driving through the streets of Lily Dale. I realized she and I were thinking the same thing, which remained unspoken because the kids were with us—that after she passed, I could return to Lily Dale and find her. That is exactly what happened. She was in a coma two days later, and she passed away the week following our last visit to Lily Dale. The famous psychic James Van Praagh vividly brought her through to me and several family members three months later, in August, in the Lily Dale auditorium at his workshop.

  LT: I’m so glad you had such a meaningful experience at one of our events. If you visit the Dale in the summer, you’re likely to find me out and about at one of the daily message services—so say “Hi!” if you visit. I look forward to meeting friends and fans of Wendy—and Calla.

  Dr. Lauren is also the author of Natural-Born Intuition: How to Awaken and Develop Your Inner Wisdom and Natural-Born Soulmates:

  Follow Your Inner Wisdom to Lasting Love. To find out more about Dr. Lauren or Wendy, visit their Web sites at www.DrLauren.com and www.wendycorsistaub.com.

  TRUTH IS INDEED STRANGER THAN FICTION

  IN THE TOWN OF LILY DALE . . .

  • Lily Dale is 60 miles south of Buffalo, New York.

  • Founded in 1879, Lily Dale is the largest Spiritualist community in the United States and possibly the world.

  • It costs $10 per person to enter the wrought-iron gates of the community during its summer season.

  • Several houses in Lily Dale are said to contain energy vortexes, and supposedly there is a spot in the forest that is so charged, the hair on your arms will stand up straight.

  • Psychics hang up shingles outside their homes advertising their specialties. />
  • Inspiration Stump is Lily Dale’s holiest place, where the mediums gather daily during the season to give readings to the town’s guests.

  • Mae West was a Lily Dale believer, and she said that her favorite medium there came to visit her right after his death.

  • Harry Houdini, a foe to Spiritualism, so frightened the community that when he came to town, they all locked their doors and hid.

  • Lily Dale was one of the first towns to get electricity, and it was originally called the City of Light.

  • Susan B. Anthony was a frequent visitor to Lily Dale. Most of Lily Dale’s leading psychics over the years have been female, and the women’s rights movement had many supporters there.

  • Lily Dale psychics rarely have insights about themselves or those people close to them—mainly because they have their own lessons to learn here on Earth, or so they believe.

  CAN CALLA LEARN TO TRUST HER NEWFOUND GIFT?

  READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK

  AT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IN LILY DALE

  The corridor smells of hot food as Calla makes her way toward the cafeteria after social studies, her fourth-period class.

  So far, so good. Things are going better than she expected, being the new kid for the first time since kindergarten. Wait, kindergarten doesn’t even count, because everyone else is new too.

  Here, everyone else gives off the comfortable, easygoing attitude that comes with familiar territory.

  This was familiar territory for Mom by the time she started her senior year here. Just knowing that this is where her mother went to school gave Calla chills when she first walked up the broad stone front steps.

  Not you’re about to see a ghost chills. More like if you’re not careful, you’re going to burst out crying in front of everyone chills.

  Calla quickly discovered that beyond the old-fashioned redbrick exterior of Lily Dale High are equally old-fashioned green chalkboards, banks of gray metal lockers, scuffed hardwood floors, and straight rows of desks.

  This place is a world away from Shoreside Day School back in Tampa, with its state-of-the-art labs, indoor-outdoor classrooms, and lecture halls housed in a sprawling cluster of sleek, modern buildings that feel more like a college campus than a high school.

  Here, she’s found her way to every classroom with little trouble—not all that hard, considering that the two-story school has simple L-shaped hallways on both floors. She’s been assigned a homeroom and a locker, memorized her combination, and accumulated a stack of textbooks. She’s even seen a few familiar faces: Lena Hoffman, who works at the Lily Dale Café, has the locker next to Calla’s, and Willow York, of all people, has turned up in most of her classes so far.

  When they found themselves sitting across the aisle from each other in health class first thing this morning, Willow acknowledged Calla with a brief smile, which totally caught her off guard.

  Not that she expected Willow to stick out her tongue, but still. As Blue Slayton’s barely ex-girlfriend, Willow can’t be thrilled that he’s gone out with someone else. And Evangeline told Calla that Willow knows all about that. “Lily Dale is smaller than any small town you’ll ever see,” Evangeline said cheerfully. “Everyone knows everything about everyone.”

  Right. And sometimes even before it happens.

  Well, Willow has class, Calla has decided. She’s not going to make a big deal out of Calla seeing Blue. Good for her.

  And even better for me.

  Pausing in the doorway of the cafeteria, Calla lingers to read the posted menu. Sloppy Joes today, like Evangeline predicted.

  She reads the menu intently, checking to see what’s on it for the next few days. Then next week.

  Then, when she can’t stall any longer, she forces herself to walk into the cafeteria.

  This is what she’s been dreading all day: the prospect of eating alone. Unfortunately her one friend, Evangeline, isn’t here. When they compared schedules in the hall after homeroom, they found that their paths cross only once a day: in gym.

  As Calla crosses the threshold into the cafeteria, her heart sinks. Instead of the small round tables that fill the cafeteria back at Shoreside, there are long rectangular tables. Most of them are filled with people who have known each other since kindergarten. It’s going to be impossible for her to duck over to a secluded table alone and hide.

  Is lunch even mandatory here? She definitely isn’t hungry, thanks to Odelia force-feeding her mush and bacon. She’s about to flee when she hears someone call her name.

  Looking up, she sees Blue Slayton beckoning from a table filled with guys.

  Hmm. Maybe she’ll stick around. She walks over, tossing her head a little to get her hair out of her face without being obvious.

  “How’s it going?” Blue asks when she arrives at his side.

  “Great,” she says, noticing that he’s wearing a long-sleeved jersey in a deep indigo shade that matches his eyes—and his name.

  He wears that color a lot, she’s noticed, and she’s sure it’s no accident. He has to be aware of the striking impact. And his clothes are expensive. She can tell by the cotton fabric that looks as thick and soft as his light brown hair, which he might wear in a wavy and slightly unkempt style, but she knows that’s no ten-dollar barbershop haircut.

  No, everything about Blue Slayton is expertly and deliberately pulled together. The result is effortless good looks that take her breath away a little every time she sees him up close.

  “So you haven’t gotten lost yet?” he asks Calla, fork poised above a tray that holds two of everything: two sloppy joe plate lunches, two bottles of juice, two ice cream bars.

  “Not yet.” She wonders if he’s going to eat all that himself, or if he’s planning to share with someone else. Willow, maybe?

  “The only way to get lost around here is trying to find your way home if a blizzard blows in during the day,” comments the red-haired, freckled guy sitting next to Blue.

  “Yeah, but that only happens, like, once a week in the winter, and so far, we’ve lost less than a dozen kids that way,” Blue says dryly, and everyone laughs.

  He introduces Calla to the redhead—Jeremy—and to the other four guys, two of whom are named Ryan. They’re all on the school soccer team together.

  “Calla’s living over in the Dale with her grandmother,” Blue tells them, and a couple of them ask her politely about where she’s from and how she likes it here.

  As she answers their questions, she wishes Blue would invite her to sit down, but he doesn’t.

  Well, that’s probably because he’s with all these guys.

  Or maybe it’s because he’s no longer interested in you.

  “Hey, Calla,” he says abruptly, “want to go out Friday night?”

  Or maybe he is interested.

  “Sure,” she hears herself say as her heart trips over itself. “That would be great.”

  “Good. I’ll call you.” Blue drains what’s left of his open juice and crushes the plastic bottle in his fist before reaching for the second one.

  She takes that as her cue to leave.

  But Blue Slayton asking her out again is enough to ease the humiliation, five minutes later, of roaming the room with a full tray, looking for a seat that has empty chairs around it. She doesn’t want to just go and plop herself down next to anyone. That would feel kind of . . . bold.

  But none of the open chairs has a buffer zone around it, and she can feel people looking up at her as she passes their tables.

  She just has to sit down somewhere. Anywhere.

  She looks around and her gaze falls on a striking girl with long black hair, porcelain skin, and a familiar face. Willow York again, and she glances up from a conversation she’s having with the girl next to her. “Oh, hi.”

  “Hi.” Calla hesitates, still holding her tray.

  “Want to sit with us?” asks the other girl, who is African American, with a short, chic haircut, gorgeous dark eyes, and a mouthful of braces. She points to the empt
y chair across from her and Willow.

  “Definitely.” Calla gratefully puts her tray on the table and slips into the chair without stopping to see if Willow seems to want her there.

  “This is Sarita,” Willow says, in a friendly enough tone, “and you and I have already met. A few times, right? But I’m Willow . . . in case you forgot.”

  She didn’t forget.

  “Do you live in Lily Dale?” Sarita asks.

  “Yeah, I’m staying with my grandmother.” Calla decides not to tell her it’s only temporary. Why complicate the conversation? “How about you?”

  “I live down the road in Cassadaga.”

  Does the fact that Sarita lives outside the Dale mean she can’t see dead people or have psychic visions or premonitions?

  What about Willow? She lives in the Dale. Is she a medium?

  Even more important: did Willow see Calla talking to Blue a few minutes ago? Probably not. She’s acting pretty friendly.

  Or maybe she’s over him.

  Nah. Remembering Blue’s piercing eyes—and those broad shoulders beneath the soft cotton jersey—Calla can’t help but think it would take any girl a long time to get over him.

  Including you, she warns herself. So don’t go letting yourself get hooked on him.

  Yeah. One broken heart per year is more than enough.

  Hearing a commotion, she looks over to see that someone just tripped and dropped his lunch tray. Her first thought: Thank God that didn’t happen to me.

  Her next: That poor kid.

  He’s enormously obese, with jet black hair, thick glasses, and a line of fuzz on his upper lip.

  A few kids are laughing as, flustered, he wipes red sauce off his hands and starts to pick up the mess.

  “Oh, no, poor Donald.” Willow is instantly up and out of her seat, hurrying toward him.

  “That’s Donald Reamer,” Sarita comments to Calla. “He’s the kind of guy who . . . well, you know. Things are hard for him.”