Shadows at 3 AM

Today started off with a weird vibe. I woke up at 3:33 AM—one of those moments where you just know something’s off. My eight dogs, who are usually dead asleep around that time, were all awake and staring at the same corner of the room. I swear, if you ever want a reality check on the unseen, watch your dogs. They’re more in tune with the shit we choose to ignore.

Anthony was sound asleep next to me, snoring away, completely oblivious. I didn't want to wake him up; he works too damn hard and deserves his rest. But there was this coldness in the room that I couldn’t shake. Now, I’m used to spirits—hell, they’re practically my roommates at this point—but this felt different. Heavier. Darker.

I got up, grabbed some sage from the altar, and started smudging the room. As the smoke curled up, I could feel the presence start to lift, but it wasn’t going without a fight. The dogs calmed down, and I could see their eyes start to droop back into that cozy sleep state, but my adrenaline was in full swing. Sleep? Yeah, right.

I decided to stay up and do a bit of meditative work. When you’re dealing with this kind of energy, the best thing you can do is face it head-on. I lit some candles, put on some binaural beats, and went into that deep zone. It didn’t take long before I got the image of a woman—late 20s, early 30s, dark hair, sad eyes. She wasn’t malevolent, just lost. She wanted to be heard, and trust me, when spirits want to be heard, they’ll fuck with your life until you listen.

Turns out, she had died in a car accident not far from my house about 15 years ago. She had unfinished business, as they always do. Her fiancé had moved on and started a new family, and she was stuck in that limbo of not being able to let go. I spent the next hour guiding her towards peace, towards the light, and when she finally crossed over, that heaviness in the room evaporated. The dogs relaxed completely, and I could feel the normal energy of the house return.

By the time I was done, it was nearly 6 AM. I could hear Anthony starting to stir, so I went to the kitchen to make us some coffee. We sat on the back porch, watching the sun come up, talking about everything and nothing. I didn’t mention the night’s events to him—no need to burden him with that. He’s seen me do this kind of work enough to know when it’s been a rough night.

Later in the day, I had a few client readings. One of them was a new client, a woman who was struggling with the recent loss of her mother. During the session, her mother came through loud and clear, and the love that poured through was so intense that it brought both of us to tears. Moments like that remind me why I do what I do. It’s not about the spooky shit or the dark energies—it’s about connection. It’s about helping people find peace, closure, and sometimes just a little bit of hope.

After the readings, I spent the afternoon working on some music. I’ve got a new track that’s been brewing in my head for days, and it felt good to finally lay down some beats. Music is like therapy for me, a way to channel all the energy that flows through my life into something creative, something tangible.

Anthony and I ended the day with a long walk with the dogs. It was one of those perfect summer evenings where the sky is painted in shades of pink and orange, and the air is just cool enough to be comfortable. We didn’t talk much, just enjoyed the silence, the presence of each other, and the simple joy of watching our pack of dogs run around like maniacs.

So, what’s the moral of today’s story? Listen. Whether it’s the whispers of a spirit, the unspoken words of your partner, or the quiet hum of the universe, just fucking listen. There’s a lot going on in the shadows, and if you’re not paying attention, you’ll miss the messages meant for you.

Until next time, stay weird, stay wild, and keep your eyes open. The universe is always talking.

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