I want to begin by talking about something I offer called an Intuitive Consult.
You’ll notice I don’t call it a “psychic reading.” I never will. I don’t like the title and I don’t resonate with what that phrase has come to mean in the world. But here is what I do allow: I allow my intuition, and whatever connections I have with realms and energies beyond my ordinary thinking, to make themselves known to me. And if it feels appropriate, I share what arrives.
That doesn’t mean I’m sitting there acting like an oracle on a mountaintop. Far from it. What I do is have a conversation with a real human being.
Some people come to an Intuitive Consult expecting to sit silently on Zoom while I “read” them the way a medium might. That’s not how I work. I need rapport. I need to hear your voice, your story, the texture of your life. Very often the information doesn’t come until we’re talking—until there’s an actual meeting of energies. Sometimes it comes from your guides or the energies around you. Sometimes it comes from mine. Often it feels like a blend. And sometimes, honestly, it doesn’t come at all.
And here’s the big point I want to make: anyone who says they understand exactly how all this works? I just want to laugh until I pee my pants. I don’t care who they are, what system they studied, what beings they think they’ve contacted—nobody knows for sure.
What I have learned is to trust certain currents of this energy because they’ve proved their value again and again. At the same time, I let my conscious mind—my human wisdom, my experience—evaluate everything that comes through me. I think that balance is what makes my approach different.
An Intuitive Consult is not a performance. It’s a relationship for an hour. Sometimes the first half is ordinary conversation. Sometimes the information rushes in only near the end. More often than not, it does come—and very often it arrives in the last fifteen minutes like a sudden summer storm.
That’s exactly what happened yesterday.
When Dolores Walks Into the Room
The client was a new BQH practitioner, just beginning their path. We talked about background, struggles, hopes—normal human things. I could feel we were circling toward something, but nothing dramatic was happening.
Then, with about fifteen minutes left, the images began.
This is how I often receive information—like tiny GIFs dropped into my awareness. Visual metaphors that say more in a second than paragraphs of explanation. What was unusual this time was that Dolores inserted herself directly into the images.
Let me pause here.
I have always been careful about how I talk about my connection with Dolores Cannon. She famously said she was not a channeler and didn’t have the best opinion of channeling at all—yet many of her closest friends absolutely were channels. She said she wasn’t psychic either. Years ago I even wrote an article called “ You are Not Channeling Dolores Cannon,” which was a tongue-in-cheek way of saying: I’m just listening. And isn’t that what channeling is anyway—listening?
I give most channeled material a healthy side-eye, no matter who it’s from. I take it at face value and keep my discernment firmly switched on. And yet… I cannot deny what I experience.
Over the years I’ve come to accept that Dolores is part of what I would call my “ wisdom team.” Sometimes her presence is strong and unmistakable. Sometimes it’s absent. Sometimes she blends with other energies. And sometimes—my favorite times—she shows up with that dry humor and personality I loved so much about her when she was alive.
My love for her, and my respect, I believe, keeps the door of communication open.
I remember it was about 2012 – arriving at one of her weeklong classes. She was standing in the hotel lobby and when I saw her I just lost it. I rushed up and hugged her without invitation—something nobody did to Dolores. While I squeezed her she said in my ear, completely deadpan, “You’re squishing me.” I backed off, embarrassed and laughing. I never did that before and I never did that again. But God, I loved that woman and for a moment, I really just forgot my manners.
That love matters to this story.
The Roundabout
The first image I began to speak about to the client was a traffic roundabout.
I saw the client as a car moving quickly around the circle—busy, energetic, full of motion, yet never taking any of the five exits. Round and round, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect clarity. Inside the grassy center were other cars—parked, stuck, not moving at all. The message was clear: you are not stuck. Movement is already happening. But it’s time to choose a pathway out.
Then Dolores showed herself in the very same roundabout image… in her little red car, admitting she too had circled at times before finally choosing a direction, but she spent very little time turning herself into circles. Her wisdom was simple: action creates information. Even the “wrong” exit teaches you something and brings momentum for the next choice.
The client felt it immediately. I felt it too.
The Table
But this second image was the one that shook me, and actually in terms of timing, it presented to my mind’s eye first.
Dolores placed us at a plain folding table. Not across from each other—side by side. She was on my left, where I usually hear her voice. The client was energetically on the other side. I was talking, doing my normal mentoring, and she was just sitting there listening with her hands clasped.
Then she kicked me under the table.
I am not exaggerating. In the image she literally nudged me with her foot at the exact moment the roundabout GIF dropped into my head—as if to say, Tell him this now.
I laughed out loud during the session. The timing and the humor was pure Dolores.
Along with the delivering of information and context came a flash of her old bedroom office—piles of papers, tapes, boxes manuscripts everywhere stacked on all the furniture. Piled on the floors. She showed me how she didn’t let that chaos stop her. She would leave the mess, go upstairs to her recliner, put on Matlock, and write anyway. As I’m recalling this she’s practically whispering, Why do you think I loved those shows? Solving mysteries—that was my whole life. And besides, she added just now, I thought Andy Griffith was cute.
The client left glowing. And I was left in tears. Both from laughing and the great big unmistakable compliment offered by my beloved teacher.
What This Means—and What It Doesn’t
I will never call myself a channeler. I will never claim special authority. And I would never say publicly that Dolores sat beside me like a peer—even though that’s exactly how it felt—because reverence matters to me.
What I will say is this:
The more you do this work, the more you open, the more you talk with people who don’t laugh at these kinds of experiences, the more available this world becomes. Not just for me—for anyone willing to listen. An Intuitive Consult is not fortune-telling. It’s a conversation with a door slightly ajar. Sometimes nothing walks through. Sometimes the whole room fills with light at the last minute. And yesterday, Dolores walked in, kicked me under the table, and reminded both me and my client to not circle forever.
If you feel called to this kind of work, don’t wait until you understand everything. Don’t wait for perfection. Choose a path. Movement is the magic.
Thank you Dolores.
