This is an edited version from my book ‘Under the Veil’ a skeptic who now works full time as a Medium. Go Figure!
When I was growing up, I did not know anything about Spirituality, not in a metaphysical sense. We were brought up as Catholics, but not traditional Catholics. We went to Catholic Schools, church on Sundays, and I do recall my First Holy Communion. I recall it being like a party, with my Aunty Doreen doing my hair. We would then attend an hour-long church service as we would all line up and walk towards the altar, looking like mini brides and grooms, to receive our first holy communion. The Host, which was likened to a piece of dried bread, was placed on your tongue by the Priest. Then you were given a sip of wine. After the ceremony, you receive a medal and then there is a party. So, you can see why I enjoyed the mystical side of Catholicism.
I started school at the age of five, where most of the teachers were nuns, there were only a couple of ‘normal teachers’ or lay teachers, teachers who were not Catholics. If we were not being educated by nuns, we were going to funerals, to sing in the choir. I loved funerals! Any excuse to get off school.
The first time I recall the magic of Spirit was in class, I would have been around seven years old, when a nun asked the class to turn around and look at my Aura. It was then we learnt about the different colours that can surround our heads. She went on to explain why all the photos of the Saints had a white light around their heads, as this was the light of God, their Aura.
I used to pray to Jesus, mainly if I wanted something, like a bike or something else trivial. I would barter with him, that if I received these items, I would be nicer to people and would go to church on a more regular basis. These promises were soon forgotten.
Every week we would line up to go to Confession. We would see the Priest, in what can only be described as a stand-alone double wardrobe with a curtain between us. We would then tell him all our sins for that week. This was in confidence, even though he knew us all personally! I am sure he would have talked about some of our sins over a whiskey with his fellow Priests. He would then, on behalf of God, abolish our sins by giving us a penance of ten Our Fathers and six Hail Mary’s, depending on how severe the crime was. I recall thinking hard about what I did that week that would make the Priest happy as he would never believe that any child had a sinless week! I am sure the Priest just thought all children were sinful in his eyes, and if we did not turn up for confession that week, we would be questioned by him as to why we did not go to confession. It was like he knew what we had been up to, which often was nothing! So, to keep the peace, most of us would often make up sins. Not that we were perfect children, we were just children. I can recall saying things like, hitting my brother or not doing what I was told. Once forgiven, I would come out of the confessional box with my punishment and wander around the church, looking at the pictures on the wall, these images are called the stations of the cross. 14 images were placed around the church depicting the day Jesus was crucified. When I think about it, they were quite gruesome. At the time, I never thought about it. While we would walk around the church saying our penance, we would hold rosary beads. I still have rosary beads. I sometimes use them when doing readings.
Being brought up in a Catholic environment taught me a lot about the Angels, Saints, God, Jesus and everything else mystical about Heaven. And that is what Heaven and Hell were to me, a magical, mystical place where there were saints and sinners, magical fairies and wishes came true only if you were good, though! Not such a bad thing. I loved the stories, never understood the Bible, but the pomp and ceremony that surrounded events, like Easter and Christmas, brought magic into your life. I was too young ever to think that my spiritual experiences were real.
I would later learn that being a Catholic, or having the background, made a lot of sense when I was introduced to Mediumship.
When I was around 10 or 11 years old, my mother had a friend, Betty, she was a lovely lady, she was one of those family friends you called Aunty until you realise they are just a friend of your mothers.
Betty was very much into mediumship, she spent a lot of time practising it and was involved in circles with people around the world.
Back in the 1950s, it was illegal to work as a Medium so Mediums would work secretly as they could have been arrested. No thought was ever put into the whys or where of how it all happened, for some reason we just believed it.
It was not until I went into a circle myself and started to develop my intuition that I realised a lot of what I saw was supernatural. This was confirmed when I would talk to family about things I saw growing up and to be told I was making it up.
For years I thought we lived next to a cemetery. We didn’t, however, someone was killed next door.
I always heard a baby crying next door, when I finally asked the people living there they said they also heard it and later learned a baby had died. They shortly moved out and the house was pulled down. There were a lot of stories like these that once I started to learn more about myself, the more I understood my upbringing.
I fell into Mediumship and everyday I learn. What I love about doing this type of work is the magic it brings into peoples life. To connect the past with the present still blows my mind. What I dislike, but have accepted, is the misunderstanding around metaphysical work and how easily you are judged by those who were once close to you and those who are afraid of the unknown. Ultimately it is a path less travelled and a journey that is not taken likely. I would not want it any other way!
Brigid Curran Psychic Medium and proud of it!