I want to just show an example of how children can manifest mediumship.
I do think that mediumship often runs in families, and although I do not know yet if my own daughter will truly be a medium, she did seem to show a mediumistic tendency when she was about 11.
Celene is now 22. Since she was 9, she has been a Buddhist. We discovered a Burmese/Indian Theraveda monastery near us. It is gorgeous. Thirteen monks from Burma came to America and chose this site in Boulder Creek, California where they then built a huge, beautiful Burmese Buddhist temple on a hill (this is different than Tibetan Buddhism). It has white spirals that twist to the sky, and has gold-leaf decorating the spiral, the doorways, and other areas of the temple. There are other buildings there, and a huge meditation hall.
This meditation hall is large but humble. Unlike the typical American temples which seem to be very symmetrical and clean, this is kind of haphazard, and down-to-earth. There is a worn red rug, a wood-burning fireplace, and an odd assortment of various shapes, colors and sizes of pillows on which to sit while meditating. The altar is also humble — a large ceramic Buddha sits on its lotus on a table, bowls of offered fruit and incense rest in front of it. “Guarding” the Buddha are two “lions” on either side of the table, on the floor — but instead of ornate lion statues…the lions are stuffed animals! (A temple after my daughter’s heart!)
We discovered this temple by “accident,” (sychronicity?) . My best friend from Brooklyn, New York, had come to visit several years ago and I had just discovered this marvelous temple that seemed so out of place here. I took her there for a look at it to see it as I knew that she had studied Buddhism in India for quite a number of years.
While at the temple, she, Celene and I had a fun and enlightening conversation with the resident monk, Bhante, who was from Bangladesh. Coincidentally (??? — now, it probably WASN’T coincidence), my friend, Alexis, had studied under the very SAME teacher in India as BHANTE had studied with there! (Only at different times.) Alexis laughed that my daughter was only quiet while in the temple, as she usually chattered a lot around her.
After Alexis returned to New York, my daughter and I began to visit the temple. We went down once after Alexis left, and as we left the meditation hall, my daughter turned to me and said, “I want to come back, mom.” I asked her why she wanted to and she just simply said, “I don’t know — I just think that I should.” That was a 9 year-old speaking.
Thus, we began traveling to the temple a couple of times a month. Bhante taught Celene more about Buddhism. One of our favorite monks, Uttama, who was from Burma and is a retired Ambassador, and over 80 years old (!), took Celene aside and told her “You were one of us.” That was when she was only ten-years-old.
One evening during the 45-minute meditation, my daughter sat remarkably quiet. She sat with her left side to the wall, and I sat on her right side. At the end of the meditation she badgered me: “Why did you ‘tap’ me on the shoulder???” she demanded to know. I told her, “I didn’t tap you.” She insisted: “Yes you did.” I again told her, “No, I didn’t.” Finally, I asked her to explain how she “felt” the tap.
She said she was sitting in meditation when someone (she thought it was me) “tapped” her on the left shoulder — the shoulder facing the wall (not facing me). I again assured her that I would not interupt her meditation by playing games and tapping her. Finally it dawned on me — maybe she was being tapped by a spirit!
I asked Celene to look at the photos on the wall (of the deceased master teacher) and asked her if it was possible that any of them might have tapped her. She gazed at the row of photos, and then swiftly pointed to the deceased teacher: “HE DID IT!” she exclaimed.
With that, she seemed satisfied.
We will probably never really know. However, I do know that I am also “touched” at times by spirits — sometimes they lay clothing over my shoulder that I can even tell the fabric of, or they may “stroke” my face or hands, or in one case, which I will tell about later, they even “push” me, quite literally. So, I do know that I am prone to physical sensations when in touch with spirits. Why not my daughter? If my sister can do this, I can do it, and my grandmother did it, why not my daughter?
Time will tell. But I listen to my daughter — she is a teacher to me. After all, it wasn’t me the monks recognized, but my daughter, Celene, to whom they said, “You were one of us.”
And I guess she is.