An excerpt from Nondual Medium: Nonduality and the Spirit World by Georgi Y. Johnson
After several flat-lined attempts and lame communications that failed to strike a single spark, withered by his own nervousness and the unconcealed scorn of his partner, he stepped forward again. Clutching his forehead in full-blown visionary style, he announced:
“I have a Rob here... or maybe a Robert? Something like that?” He scanned the audience. “Can anyone take a Rob?”
“I’ve got a Rob,” a woman said reluctantly after a painful silence.
The medium’s face lit up .
“Well, I’ve also got a Rob,” I called out .
Suddenly the whole room chimed in; everyone seemed to have a Rob .
“We’ve all got Robs!” laughed the first woman .
The initial cringe at the medium’s clumsiness was threatening to turn into an open insurrection—Glastonbury style—with a flutter of rodent mischief filling the room .
The medium shifted his weight, gulped from his glass of water, and began fishing again with the first woman, who was sitting with her teenage daughter. He looked ready to dematerialize straight through the floor.
When evidence is that scattered and vague, the link loses all cohesion. His fear was sabotaging his ability to relate, fracturing the transmission into disjointed puzzle pieces that had no space for cohesion, no presence, and nothing like recognizable evidence .
Eventually, through sheer despair, his attention settled. Looking completely defeated, he blurted out the only direct impression he had left:
“Rob says that he’s sorry.”
No one in the room was impressed .
The woman sat upright, crossed her arms with sharp emphasis, and announced to the entire hall:
“Well, he bloody well should be!”
A flood of laughter rippled through the room. In an instant, the thick knot of tension that had choked the hall began to loosen. The solar plexus of the entire audience relaxed. The atmosphere was one of packing up and going home—releasing any expectation. The lady explained that Rob had been her ex-husband, a man who had caused endless exasperation and trouble during his life on earth . He certainly had an awful lot to be sorry for .
With that single sharp burst of laughter, the heavy lid came off the hall. The atmosphere transformed from a strained audition into a shared pub lounge at closing time, everyone collectively exhaling as the need to protect the medium’s dignity dissolved .
All was lost anyway . The sitter had handed him the context on a plate, rendering any conventional attempt at evidential validation moot. And in that defeat—when the medium realized there was nothing left to salvage—his posturing simply fell away. The need to look impressive, to be spiritual, to be right, vanished.
Taking a long, unhurried breath, he turned slightly toward the space beside him, shook his head in quiet bewilderment, lifted his face to the heavens in agonised supplication and said:
“Right. I am just going to say this, and I pray to God it makes sense to you.”
He turned back to face the woman, and declared:
“Chipmunks.”
The hall went dead quiet. This was bordering on the absurd. The awkwardness and collective shame felt thick enough to cut. Sitting right in front of her, my immediate thought was: Oh dear, shoot me now .
Then the woman let out an enormous gasp .
“Oh!” she cried, hands flying to her face.
She began laughing so hard that tears sprang to her eyes . Beside her, the daughter looked utterly stunned .
“He brought home two chipmunks for the children! And they were awful!” yelped the mother, while the audience stared in amazement at this wildly specific, unprompted piece of evidence .
“...And then the chipmunks had babies!”
The entire room dissolved into pure, irrepressible joy . In that single, ridiculous moment, the medium was not guessing, not fishing, and not performing. He was completely plugged into something so bizarre and random it had to be real.
Still more remarkably, you could feel the atmosphere of clumsy, awkward, playful, messy Rob blending through those exact personal qualities within the medium himself.
Rob’s presence came sensuously to life. In that moment, the quiet daughter sitting beside her mother had something of the magic of her recalcitrant father restored: the father who had once shown up with a cage full of breeding rodents for the kids. Something immensely healing and restorative was happening through the squall—the living link of love between daughter and father was restored in one magnificent instant.
An excerpt from Nondual Medium: Nonduality and the Spirit World by Georgi Y. Johnson
Stay connected with news and updates!
Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from our team.
Don't worry, your information will not be shared.
We hate SPAM. We will never sell your information, for any reason.
