A few years ago, I met a client who was one of those people that make me work extra hard. I used to be curious as to why non-believers came to see me for readings. Why bother? What are they looking to prove? It's really hard to read for non-believers because their negative energy throws up all sorts of road blocks. So she came into my office, sat down across from me and crossed her arms, giving me that, "Yeah? So what now?" expression. Uh-oh.
Everything I asked her was no.
"Do you work with kids?"
"Oh, I keep seeing you helping kids."
"I'm not a teacher."
"Okay, hmm, that's odd. I just keep seeing you and kids, you helping kids."
"Well, I guess I got that wrong. What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a pediatric nurse."
God help me.
"So, doesn't that mean you help kids?"
She shrugged again.
That's how the whole hour went. By the time she left, I was so drained, I felt like canceling the rest of my appointments. I remember calling my sister on the drive home and ranting away into her ear. "People like that make me want to quit!"
Six months later, she scheduled another appointment. She was a bit better, but not much. Over the next several months, she bought gift certificates for her mom, dad, and brothers plus two friends. Then this week, she came in to see me for a reading. She was much more relaxed this time, and reading for her was a pleasure, a breeze. On her way out the door, she paused and said, "Thank you for helping me to believe."
I walked over and hugged her. I said, "Thank you too." I'm sure she wondered why I said thank you, but I wanted to thank her for reminding me that I should never judge someone too quickly or too harshly or at all for that matter. I shouldn't have taken her tough exterior personally but rather as a reminder that my job is to simply deliver the messages. What the client does or doesn't do with that information is not about me nor is it any of my business.
When you do this work, you're simply the mailman. I never know what happens to people after they leave my office or hang up the phone. I don't get the end of the story. But this week I did, and I was humbled.