Meet the Medium Who Cuts Hair, Too!
Articles Inspirational articles from Hay House authors
Meet the Medium Who Cuts Hair, Too!It’s the Psychic Barber.
MANY PEOPLE CONSIDER mediums to be rather strange. I don’t see myself that way, although some of the episodes in my life since developing my mediumship have been bizarre, to say the least. My life has changed dramatically since I've put my gift to use. But if anyone had told me that I’d end up in some of the places I have or met some of the people I’ve encountered, I would have told them they were out of their minds.
I was brought up in a working-class area of Glasgow, with only average scholastic abilities. But now I was being invited to speak before an audience of academics at the University of Glasgow, and I was teaching seminars and conferences, instructing those who wished to learn about the world of mediumship and the afterlife. Sometimes I’d have to pinch myself to realize I wasn’t dreaming. On the other hand, there were times I wish I were dreaming!
One of the strangest requests ever made to me as a medium came out of the blue. I was working in the salon late one Friday afternoon—it was a typical day at City Barbers. The staff had lost most of their affability by this time, so shouts of “Next!” screamed from all corners of the busy salon. Everyone’s intention was either to get home or to the pub. “Gordon, phone!” one of the staff members bellowed.
The voice at the other end of the phone was that of a foreign lady, requesting that I leave my place of work immediately and join her at the Hilton Hotel. There seemed to be no way to explain to this lady that I was at work and would have to get permission from my boss to leave early.
“Tell your boss man to send you to me, and I will pay your wages,” she said. After a few more words of banter between her, my boss, and myself, it was agreed that I’d be released early to try and pacify Madam X.
I approached the front entrance of the Glasgow Hilton in my work clothes. I certainly got some looks from the high-class clientele, all dressed for dinner, as I walked through the grand lobby.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place, sir?” the elderly concierge asked me in a patronizing tone.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m expected by Madam X in Room 1108, thank you very much.”
It was at this point that I realized that the anonymous lady must be of some importance, since the concierge almost fell backwards in disbelief.
The door of the room was open, and in front of me was a beautiful middle-aged woman, whom I recognized instantly. This time it was me who almost fell backwards.
“Please come in, Mr. Smith,” she said, motioning me into the room. Her tone was more gracious now than it had been before. “Thank you so much for seeing me at such short notice,” she said gently.
All I could do was stare, but I eventually pulled myself together, for I was here to give this lady a private sitting. Almost as soon as I tuned in, the spirit people came through and spoke to her. During this time I forgot that she was someone of importance. After giving her evidence from her loved ones on the Other Side for almost an hour, I paused for a moment and asked if she had any questions.
“Yes, I do,” she said, frowning at me. “I need you to ask your spirit people if they can assist my husband.”
“In what way, Madam?” I asked.
“Well, it looks as if there’s going to be a great public scandal concerning him. What I want you to do is to ask the spirits to influence some people’s minds so that it—“
“I’m very sorry,” I stopped her in mid-sentence. “I cannot do such things.”
“I know it might sound a little bit immoral, but I will pay you well.”
“Madam,” I said, “you don’t seem to understand me. When I said I couldn’t do it, it’s not because of any immorality. The fact is, I don’t have the power to do it.”
“But you speak to them. Won’t they help me if you ask them on my behalf? I mean, my husband could be ruined if you don’t.”
I really couldn’t believe this. Here was this high-powered lady, whose husband held a very important position in the running of their country, pleading with little old me to call on the spirit world to sort out an impending scandal! The only thing I could offer her was prayer, although some kind of counseling might have been called for, too.
“I will ask that prayers be said for both you and your husband,” I promised. “If it is God’s will, then nothing will come of the other matter.” It’s not too difficult to see how Rasputin misguided the Romanovs!
Fortunately, I never heard anything about the particular scandal. I guess the prayers did the job—or, if not, there was a hefty pay-off! Needless to say, I still get calls from Madam X when her country is in need of prayers, shall we say…