My Story

When I was a girl, I would never have believed that a person could speak to the dead, see into the past, present and future or view an individual's past, present and future illnesses or see their aura. However, something happened to me when I was 26 years old that completely changed my view of life and the world around me. 

In Spring 2003, during my first ever attempt at meditation, I had a visit from my deceased father.  His presence both shocked and amazed me and I was overcome with grief, joy and guilt all at the same time. I knew that he came to forgive me, to reassure me that no harm was done.  I listened to his words, crying tears of relief mixed with sorrow, longing to wrap my arms around him.  I felt his love and saw a glimpse of his face, unchanged even after six years.  The glory of that moment will forever remain in my heart as one of the most amazing gifts of my lifetime.

The surrealism of the experience awakened something within me, however, and I suddenly became aware that my life was just beginning.  My father had come not only to express his love and forgiveness, but to send me off on a journey; a journey that would lead me to my life’s purpose. I had no idea at the time what that journey was or what it would bring.  I am glad I was unaware of the road ahead; else I may not have traveled it.

The next few weeks were both amazing and scary.  After the initial shock of meeting my deceased father in meditation, I began my search for why it happened and what it meant.  I spent hours in contemplative meditation, searching for a repetition of that fateful meeting with my father. Instead, I got other forms of communication; silent whispers, noises and voices that I couldn't quite make out no matter how hard I tried.  It frustrated me to no end.  I decided to try automatic writing and other forms of other world communication so that I could single out the voices and understand their messages.

Through a very unlikely medium, the Ouija board, I was finally able to separate the voices into one main voice. The negative ideas that stem from using a Ouija board were very familiar to me. Not only had I seen movies suggesting Ouija boards were a gateway for evil spirits, but I had heard that using a board alone opened up a person to spirit possession.  I was afraid, but felt drawn to using the board anyway. I quickly lost my fear of the board when I realized what it could offer me.

At first I used the board with a friend.  I always asked for my spirit guide.  The board worked, but very slowly and the answers were hard to decipher. The voices in my head were still there, like static on a radio station for which I could never quite get reception. I would hear an answer before it spelled out on the board, but something about the energy was not right.  It felt blocked or interrupted.

I became frustrated and told my partner to take his hands off the board. Something told me that it was his energy that was creating the blockage I was feeling. I kept my hands on the board while he watched.  It was at that point that I heard one quiet voice in my head and as my hand was directed across the board to spell out a message, I heard the words before they were completely spelled.  The voice in my head was hard to hear, and I did not quite recognize it as a voice at that time. Instead, it felt like a quiet thought of my own, not much louder than a whisper. I dismissed it, instead focusing on the message slowly spelling out in front of me.

The message said this, “You are D-A-N-A”.

That was absurd. “No, I'm not,” I stated defiantly. 

The board spelled it out again, “You are D-A-N-A”.

My friend laughed and I got irritated. I asked for clarification.

The letters appeared once again, slowly but surely spelling D-A-N-A.

Since it was obvious that this communication was not going to go my way, I asked for more clarification about the spirit who was speaking to me.

“Are you my spirit guide?”

The board went to the letter 'Y' rather than the yes. Yes, the spirit I was speaking to was my spirit guide. This reassured me and I began to relax with a thought still in my mind: Why was my spirit guide calling me Dana?

At that moment, I felt a huge amount of energy shoot through my body.  My legs got numb and my head felt tingly.  My heart began to beat so fast I could hear it beating in my ears.  My hands started tingling and I was filled with what I can only describe as foreign energy.  I quickly took my hands off the board, expecting the feeling to stop, but it didn't.  It got more intense and I got very, very scared. I felt dizzy, as if I was going to faint.  I yelled out, “Please stop!”

After what seemed like an eternity, the feeling slowly began to fade. The tingling sensations and numbness eventually disappeared, as if they had never been there.  My friend was staring at me, wide-eyed and worried.  I didn't know what to do. We both thought I was being possessed.  We put the board away and I left, feeling overwhelmed and afraid.  But I was still curious. In the back of my mind I was asking myself, "What was that?" and "Why did that happen?"

I swore not to touch a board again, convinced now that the rumors I had heard about Ouija boards were correct. Yet, as I thought about the experience and how the energy felt as it swept through my body, I wondered what had really happened. Was what I felt really the result of being possessed by spirit? I felt the answer to that question was no.  There was something more to it, but what?

As I considered the events of that night, an idea came to me. Just ask it said.  I felt calm and reassured that I would get an answer. So I took out my board even though I had sworn not to use it again. 

I was told it was my own energy that swept through me.  As I mentally absorbed the message, I felt a warm chill run up my body.  It was as if someone was telling me, “I love you. Do not be afraid”.  I trusted the feeling and continued using the board for several weeks after that.

Eventually, the communication via the board stopped and was replaced by the voice of a bubbly, female voice who called herself "Leslie". The vision she gave me of herself was of a cheerleader with long, red hair, a big smile and strangely enough, pom-poms. Along with her voice was another one, a quieter, male voice that I was less comfortable with, mostly because it was a male voice. The voice of Leslie became so distinct in my mind that I no longer needed the reassurance of the letters on the board to hear what was being said. The voice of Leslie and the other male voice were with me all the time. The voices were those of my spirit guides. They warned me of changes that were coming; visions, voices, sensations, total life change.  I was afraid but they reassured me that they would be with me every step of the way.

Soon after this communication, my perception of reality, my beliefs and my conception of self crumbled down around me. All I was left with were pieces of the puzzle of my life and questions about my purpose. I spent the next four years searching for something I cannot describe, constantly probing the unknown for answers to the puzzle that was my life.  The challenges were far more difficult than I expected. 

At first, I was unaware of the changes occurring within me. Instead I was attracted to the unknown and the magical nature of mysticism.  I read books by known psychics and mediums, practiced automatic writing and divination, and spent hours in focused meditation.  It was in meditation that I met my guides; it was meditation that opened my consciousness to realms of Spirit. 

Within a month of encountering my deceased father in meditation I was giving psychic and mediumship readings.  Not only was I capable of communicating with spirit, but it was as if I had been doing readings for years. Somehow I knew how to give a reading without ever having practiced! I was amazed by my ability and spent the majority of my free time in front of the computer in psychic chat rooms practicing my new-found skills.  My interest in the regular world slowly faded, my full-time teaching job becoming less and less important to me.

When summer approached, I quit my job, deciding that I wanted to pursue a career as a psychic and medium.  The events of the previous months were powerfully persuasive and I wanted to continue exploring my new identity. So I moved north, hoping to find an environment receptive to my spiritual abilities.  I also hoped to find others who had similar spiritual gifts and experiences to my own. 

Interesting enough, when I embraced my new identity, I also created a new name for myself. I felt that my old name no longer suited me and so I searched for a name that matched how I felt inside – reborn, curious, and awake. 

Initially I thought it would be easy to find a new name, but, after weeks of searching, I still could not find a name that resonated with me. In frustration I asked God to please show me what name I should use. Minutes later, I turned on the local news and saw the name of the reporter in bold letters at the bottom of the screen: D-A-Y-N-A. Dayna! The memory of the first conversation I ever had with my spirit guide flooded my mind. I felt a rush of chills and goose bumps, a feeling I now knew as a confirmation from my guide that what I was feeling and thinking was truth.  I cried as I sat there staring at the reporter on the screen. I sent a silent thank you to my guides.

I quickly found a fitting last name for the new name I had chosen. I picked a name that felt strong. I chose a family name as well, one that died long ago with a grandmother I hardly knew.  The name was Stone and it had been my grandmother’s maiden name.

Within a month of quitting my job and moving to new location, the always quiet voice of my male spirit guide became louder and Leslie's voice seemingly disappeared. When I couldn't find her, I panicked, but the male voice reassured me and told me her time with me was over; that it was his time with me. I resisted him at first and told him to go away. However, one evening, after he showed himself to me in meditation and told me his name and his story, I accepted him. He gave me a name I could not completely understand. It started with an "S" and I asked him to give me a simple name. The name Steven came to mind and Steven has been what I have called him ever since.

Over the next two years, I learned some very difficult lessons. I learned the importance of friendship and the destructiveness of stubbornness. I learned how to let go, and let God, after months of living in fear of never having enough.  I looked myself in the eye and saw things I did not like. I confronted each of those things, whether I wanted to or not. My spirit guide, Steven, was with me the entire time. He would not give me the answers I wanted but he did offer his support. I spent hours discussing with him the events of my life and he would help me see the lessons in them, even if I did not want to see them. He guided me through past life memories that haunted me, talking me through the emotional experience of reliving them.  Through it all, he was there, a silent voice that was strong and loving and never gave up on me.

After two years of struggling to hold onto an idea of who I thought I was, I gave up. I figured that my purpose in life was not to use my spiritual talents to help people. Had it been my purpose, I would not have struggled as I had. So, I sold all of my possessions and packed what little I had left into the trunk of my car. I had to move back home to live with my mother.  This was not where I thought I would be, but I had no alternative.

On the trip home, I felt that I needed to turn around and go back to my now empty house.  I saw no reason in returning, so I continued, pushing the feeling behind me.  Several times I felt the urge to turn around, but I resisted. I asked my guide for reassurance and it was offered, so I kept driving.

I hit rush hour traffic just outside of Fort Worth, Texas.  The last exit to take me home passed by as I gradually came to a stop in the long line of traffic.  Something told me to look in my rear view mirror. I looked up.  Barreling toward me was a huge, white semi truck.  It was not going to stop.  I braced myself for the impact and swerved my tiny Civic toward the white dotted line that separated the lanes.  When the truck hit me, my car was thrown into a nearby car. Before I knew it, I found myself sitting in my car, idling in the grass on the side of the highway, not a scratch on me.

 The events of that fateful day were no coincidence. I had been stubbornly resisting what I knew to be true for almost two years. I was not ready to venture forth with my spiritual gifts yet. I did not know enough about myself, I still needed to learn some important lessons. The accident was meant as a warning. If I did not stop resisting then I would be forced to learn the hard way. Once again, I did not listen.

A collision came again in the fall of 2005. This time, however, it was not a physical collision.  I was physically and mentally exhausted. My life was not turning out the way I wanted. My move home had left me with the idea that the spiritual path was not the one for me.  I decided to return to work, hoping to recapture the joy I lost when I left my lastjob. But my heart was not in it. I left the job after only six months. I did not know what to do next.  I was unemployed, living with my mother, with no hope for the future.

I entered into a deep depression, one that nearly destroyed me. I had been depressed in the past, in fact I cannot remember many moments in my life where I was not depressed, but this depression was not normal.

My thoughts were not right.  I could not control them and they repeated, over and over and over.  Sleeplessness haunted me and I would go for walks in the middle of the night, trying to deal with the feelings that haunted me: restlessness, pain, fear, loneliness, and hopelessness. I pleaded with God to end it all. I asked my guide for help, but heard only the same repetitive thoughts. He was there but unable to interfere. This was something I had to endure alone.

 Then one day, after weeks of despair and hopelessness, the thoughts suddenly stopped.  Instead of constant chatter, my mind was quiet.  I was emotionless, though. The experienced drained the very life out of me.  I felt pushed to keep going. I heard the quiet voice of my guide, Steven say, "Just one step at a time. Just one day at a time" and saw a vision of putting one foot in front of the other. I felt him more than heard him say, "One day everything will be better. One day". I held onto that feeling. It was my salvation.

My experience during those four years of my life has been given many names: spiritual emergency, spiritual crisis, holy madness, spiritual emergence and spiritual awakening. St. John of the Cross called the experience; “a dark night of the soul” which I believe is the most accurate description of the process.  The phrase has since been used by many who have embarked on the path to spiritual enlightenment. 

The dark night of the soul is described as a process of meditation, personal introspection, and spiritual growth with the ultimate destination being a reunion with the self through God. The journey is often long and lasts many years. Those who embark on the journey often do not know their final destination. They are lucky if they know where they will be from day to day. The experience takes them into the depths of their soul and back, making them doubt themselves only to find, in the end, that they were perfect all along.  In the end, their transformation leaves them with a greater understanding of themselves and God.

Despite the struggles I endured during my dark night, I somehow managed to find time to develop my spiritual gifts. Amidst the chaotic thoughts, I always found solace in Spirit. It was as if my inner being was reminding me that all was not in vain.  Somehow I managed to build my business as a psychic/medium and medical intuitive.  I traveled to spiritual expos and taught classes on spirit guides and psychic development while giving readings in my spare time.When I met my husband at a spiritual expo in the Spring of 2007, I began focusing on my family. I now give readings free of charge and work to help others on a similar path to my own.