Spiritual Psychic Cynthia Killion

BLOG: Brushes with Death....Part 2

Part 2 of What Happens After I Return Back From Teaching Mediumship

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Part 2 of 2...CLICK HERE to read Part 1

On that Sunday after returning back from teaching mediumship at Sunset camp, I felt a little bit ungrounded & off-centered.  Of course, this is to be expected when one has *lived & breathed* mediumship for the entire month leading up to class.  Not to mention, the pure shock of returning home and being “greeted” with the sight of my mostly-dead marigolds first thing as I was pulling into the driveway was a bit much.  Plus, I still felt acutely aware of the spirit world around me.  Even on the drive home I continued to have visions & communications with the spirit world.  (In one vision, I kept seeing a group of spiritualists on the other side gathering to “make contact” with those of us on the earth plane.)
                 In short, I was having a hard time turning it off (“it” being my heightened psychic sensitivity).  So I decided to go on a walk to help myself get grounded & re-centered.
                It was at least 100 degrees out (literally).  Probably 110 or more if you considered the “heat index”.  But walking is one of the best things I have found for grounding.  So I filled my water-bottle with ice cold water, and set out on a very brief walk.
         Just for the record, I usually do NOT walk outside when the temperature is 100 or more.  Yes, I enjoy walking.  But even I’m not that “hardcore”. Still, I felt Spirit telling me that a little walk was just what I needed, so I proceeded to put on my walking shoes and brave the fierce, scorching afternoon sun.
             I only went 6 blocks at most.  I didn’t go my “usual” route, but instead zigzagged my way around the neighborhood, trying to find the blocks with the most shade.  After having gone about 3 blocks away from my house, I decided that I would turn around and make my way back home, because even with my ice water, I was starting to get excruciatingly hot. 
         I was going to take Douglas street home like I usually do, but then after realizing that there was NO shade that way, I turned and went down a different street instead.  About ¾ of the way down the block, I found a baby robin smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk.  His mouth was gaping open and he looked hungry and dehydrated, but still quite alert.  Knowing that he wouldn’t last long in the scorching, relentless heat (not to mention that there was a big orange tabby cat just around the corner), I scooped him up in the palm of my hand, and carried him home.
            He fit so well into my palm and seemed to enjoy “nesting” into my hand so much that I named him “Nester”. 

Nester was such a beautiful little boy (or girl).  He had flicks of rusty orange on his chest, and dramatic grey and brown stripes & markings on the rest of his body.  He was a little bundle of fluff with the most melodic little sing-song chirp, and did not stink in anyway.  He was so beautiful, light, and gentle.  During the whole time he was with me, he never tried to run from the hand when he was handled, but instead would sink down into my palm and eagerly await his next drink of water or bite of food. 
           Finding Nester felt truly “divine”, as this was not a way that I would normally walk, and I certainly don’t usually feel moved to walk outside once it hits a hundred (or more).  Plus Nester seemed to take so well to being handled and fed.  I thought that finding him on the sidewalk was a sign from the Universe that I was to take him home and nurse him back to life until he learned how to fly & was ready to “fledge”.  But it seems that God had other plans, and I was to help Nester make his transition instead.
            I took Nester home and immediately began giving him water & feeding him a nutritious mixture of what I can only call bird “gruel”.  He was so very hungry & thirsty, and ate like you would expect a hungry baby to eat, and then went to sleep.  Then he would wake up and eat again.  It appeared that he was doing just fine and was making a “comeback”.  He still seemed to be doing fine the next morning, but then by around noon on that next day, the life force energy began to withdraw out of him.
            I tried everything that I could think of to help revive him.  Just like with the marigolds on the previous day, I did energy work, and invoked the healing angels & guardians.  I asked that the healing energy come into Nester’s little body, and bring a swift and gentle healing, if at all possible.  However, he grew weaker by the minute.  My husband Brian also tried feeding little Nester, but not even his healing magic could revive this little creature.  Nester’s breathing became more labored with each minute, and even though he moved his mouth like he was hungry, he soon became too weak to swallow his food.
              As I watched Nester becoming increasingly weak, I prayer to God and asked that if it was God’s will that Nester be healed, then to let the healing energy come into the body and bring a swift and painless physical healing.  And if it wasn’t God’s will for Nester to be healed, if it was indeed already his time to pass, I asked the healing angels to take the energy I was sending and use it to help make Nester’s transition as peaceful, calm, and painless as possible.
              I prayed to myself over and over, “Thy will be done, thy perfect will be done”….not demanding a physical healing, but instead simply opening myself up to whatever the most peaceful, highest possibility was for this little one, and doing my best to align with God’s will with the least resistance possible.  As the life force continued to withdraw from Nester’s little body, I reached a point of peaceful yet sad resignation that there was something Greater than my small human will at work here.
            At about 1:10 pm, Nester died peacefully in my hand, with his big, black beautiful eye looking up at me.  I sat with him for a few minutes on the couch, his little body lying limp in my hand, just to make sure that he really was “gone”.   I closed his tiny eyelids, and then buried his corpse in the backyard next to the birdbath.   I believe he died knowing that he was loved. 

CLICK HERE to read the conclusion of this story.

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Cynthia Killion * Psychic Cynthia *
 info@cynthiakillion.com  316.347.9481 * (E-mail or FB message usually best way to contact)