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March Card Reading, Tryna's interpretationTryna Gower
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A Healing Gift From Louise Hay Reveals Itself

Updated: Nov 18, 2019

In psychic mediumship, you learn to accept the fact that the Universe has its own concept of time.

As an Indigenous medium, I draw upon my dreams for direction and insight from my ancestors, but sometimes that “direction” and “insight” isn’t unveiled right away. I can think of no better example of this than my 2014 Louise Hay dream—which just recently came to fruition in a fascinating way, shedding more light on my path as an author, speaker, and psychic medium in British Columbia.

When I dreamed this dream a few years back, there was no particular reason Louise Hay should have been on my mind. Sure, I was aware of this spiritual teacher and author. I’d checked out Hay House, her self help publishing company, a few times, and listened to her radio station, but she was by no means a prominent figure in my life.

In the dream, a group of about seven or eight of my female business acquaintances and I were having a dinner meeting at Mr. Mike’s Steak House in, Dawson Creek, British Columbia, Canada, where I live. By the evening darkness and snowflakes falling outside the window, I knew it was wintertime. I was sitting at the best seat, at the end of the table that faces east.

For no apparent reason, our waitress presented me with an 8 x 8 box wrapped in brown wrapping paper with a giant gold T. The T was written by hand in a sparkly gold glue-like marker. It was a homey, unpretentious touch. Surprised by the interruption but pleased that somebody was thinking of me, I asked the server, “Who is this from and where did this come from?” The waitress replied, “Over there,” and pointed to a woman—Louise Hay—who was sitting with two of her girlfriends on the other side of the table. I could see the dark snowy winter lights of the main street outside the window she sat beside. At no time did she look at me. She was rather engaged with her friends, enjoying a heartfelt visit.

I said out loud to my table of guests, “That’s Louise Hay!” The faces of my business associates were stone neutral, as if they all had no idea who she was and why her gift might be notable. As I glanced around the table, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why these particular people were there or why they looked so blank.