What actually happens when I sit down to do a reading

Hello folks.

I thought I would do something a bit different and give you a little glimpse of what actually happens when I work on a reading. It might not be quite what you expect. Or maybe it is.

The first thing I do when I am about to start a reading is procrastinate. Yes, not very sexy, not especially clever to admit, but it is the truth.

It is not that I do not want to start the reading. It is that even after working on thousands of them, I still worry that I will not be able to answer the questions in front of me.

This is less odd than it sounds. Almost none of the information I write down comes from me. It comes from elsewhere — helpers, ordinary dead people, the living people I am reading, and from reading the energy of a situation. None of those things are under my control, so before I put pen to paper I worry that there will be nothing there. Nothing for me to feel, nobody for me to contact.

Now, this has never actually happened. There has always been someone waiting for me, or an energy to start with. But because I am not in control of it, I still worry that nobody will turn up. Control freak, me?

Once I have got past that worry and stopped messing about, I usually write something like: Hello Simon, and thank you for booking a reading. I have read through your...

By the time I get that far I am already in the in-between place where I meet the spirit world and collect all the information I need.

I tell everyone that a reading takes around 90 minutes, but the truth is that it is far too easy to get lost in one, and it is not unusual for me to write for three hours. That is why some of the readings are not the single A4 page I advertise but could go a few rounds with Tolstoy's War and Peace. Do not tell Mrs Milton-Jones — she already thinks my time management needs work.

Anyway, once I am properly into a reading I find the information comes to me far faster than I can write it down, and it becomes necessary to filter out what is useful and what is not.

On top of that, if I am talking to somebody's dead friend or family member, they do not simply answer the questions my client has asked and then leave. They like to talk about all sorts of things, at length. I am a polite Englishman — that is a fact and is not up for discussion — and as such I do not find it easy to just cut them off. So although it might look like I am daydreaming or staring at a blank wall, I am usually deep in a discussion with someone.

To cut a long story short, I always finish a reading, even if it takes far longer than it should. Whatever questions are put in front of me, I always get pulled into the details and the stories behind them. People are fascinating. In fact, the stranger and more bizarre the questions, the more interesting they are.

A tip: if you ever book a reading, do not hold back when you ask your questions. I have seen, heard and felt most of it, and I am rarely surprised by what people ask.

If something is on your mind, ask me. If it worries you, tell me. If you think it is too indecent, think again. I have worked with murderers and sociopaths, people who want an affair and people who are being cheated on, farmers grieving the loss of an animal and children grieving the loss of a parent. The only stupid question is the one that never gets asked.

Well, you wonderful Facebook people, that turned into another long one. Sorry about that. But for those of you who made it this far, thank you for doing so.

The readings I work on feel personal and private, even to me, and that is how I treat them. I never share information. Never. But it is always up to you whether you do or not.

Your reading, your rules.