Embracing My Psychic Journey: From Dance Floors to Divine Guidance
By Katya Faris, MA, MA
For much of my life, I resisted calling myself a psychic. The word carried weight—skepticism from some, judgment from others, and an unspoken pressure to “prove” abilities that, for me, had always been as natural as breathing. Yet here I am today, not just accepting the title but embracing it fully. This is the story of how I stepped into my power, why it took me so long, and what I’ve learned along the way.
The Early Years: Dreams, Kabbalah, and Wicca
My journey began long before I ever read a Tarot card or cast a chart. As far back as I can remember, my dreams were vivid, intense, and often prophetic. I’d wake with a knowing—sometimes about small, personal events, other times about shifts in the lives of those around me. At first, I dismissed them as coincidence. But when the same symbols, faces, and messages reappeared with uncanny accuracy, I realized something deeper was at work.
In 1988, while studying as an undergrad at Butler University in Indianapolis, I enrolled in the Builders of the Adytum’s correspondence course—a modern mystery school rooted in Kabbalah. The structured, esoteric teachings gave me a framework to understand the unseen, while the meditative and ritual practices honed my sensitivity to energy. Around the same time, I discovered Wicca, devouring Starhawk’s The Spiral Dance, which became my gateway to intuitive development. The book’s exercises—grounding, energy work, and guided visualizations—awakened abilities I hadn’t fully acknowledged.
It was also during this period that I taught myself astral travel. At night, I’d practice leaving my body, exploring realms beyond the physical. These experiences confirmed what I’d always sensed: that consciousness extends far beyond the limits of the material world. Still, despite the evidence, I hesitated. Was I really a psychic? Or just someone with an overactive imagination?
A Detour Through Academia: Ethnomusicology and the Call of Spirit
Life has a funny way of guiding us toward our true path—even when we think we’re headed somewhere else. In 2012, I graduated from Indiana University Bloomington with a master’s degree in ethnomusicology, specializing in Arab music and dance. For years, I immersed myself in the rhythms of the darbuka, the poetry of oud melodies, and the vibrant storytelling of Middle Eastern dance. It was a world of artistry and cultural depth, and I loved it.
Yet, as much as I cherished the academic and performative aspects, I never felt called to make a career in ethnomusicology. Dance had been a passion, and I will always dance and play music, but by 2019, I knew it was time to retire from the stage. The universe was nudging me elsewhere—back to the mystical work that had always simmered beneath the surface of my life.
The Healing Path: Reiki and the Power of Sound
In 2014, I earned my Master-level Reiki certification, a milestone that deepened my understanding of energy as a tangible, transformative force. Through Reiki, I learned to channel healing intentionally, but it also clarified something profound: my lifelong draw to music wasn’t just artistic—it was vibrational. I began to see sound as a sacred tool, a way to harmonize the body and spirit.
This revelation led me to incorporate tuning forks into my practice. Their precise frequencies became another language of healing, one that clients responded to viscerally. Whether easing physical tension, clearing energetic blockages, or aligning chakras, the forks amplified the work in ways I hadn’t anticipated. It was a reminder that healing isn’t confined to one modality—it’s a symphony of energy, intuition, and resonance.
Professional Beginnings: Tarot and the Reluctance to Claim the Title
Long before my academic detour, in 1996, I’d taken my first step into professional intuitive work by reading Tarot at a metaphysical shop. The cards became a bridge—a way to translate the impressions I received into something tangible for others. Clients would sit across from me, their energy mingling with mine, and the messages would flow with startling clarity. Yet even as my reputation grew, I shied away from the word psychic.
Part of it was the stigma. The term often conjured images of carnival fortune-tellers or TV charlatans, and I didn’t want to be lumped in with those who exploited people’s hopes. But deeper down, there was also self-doubt. Was I really helping people, or was I just guessing? It wasn’t until years of consistent, validated readings—and countless clients returning to say, “You told me this would happen, and it did”—that I began to trust my gifts fully.
The Turning Point: Vedic Astrology and Bridging Two Worlds
In 2018, I answered the call to deepen my spiritual practice by earning a second master’s degree—this time in Jyotish (Vedic Astrology) from the University of Vedic Astrology in Dallas, Texas, through their online correspondence course. This ancient system, with its intricate dashas and planetary cycles, felt like coming home. Astrology provided a cosmic blueprint, revealing karmic patterns and life cycles with breathtaking precision.
Interestingly, my two years of Arabic study at IU helped me absorb Sanskrit more easily—I even noticed linguistic bridges between the two languages. But I soon realized something fascinating: while the charts outlined the structure of a person’s path, Tarot, mediumship, and sound healing filled in the gaps—the emotional nuances, the whispers of spirit guides, the unresolved energies that numbers and planets couldn’t capture.
This realization was transformative. Instead of seeing astrology, psychic work, and energy healing as separate, I began weaving them together. A client’s chart might show a challenging Saturn transit, but through Tarot, I could sense how it was affecting them emotionally—or use tuning forks to release stagnant energy tied to the issue. The synthesis of these tools didn’t just deepen my readings; it shattered an unspoken divide in the spiritual community.
Breaking the Binary: Why Multiple Modalities Matter
Over the past decade, I’ve noticed an odd tension in metaphysical circles. Some astrologers dismiss psychics as unserious, while some energy workers view astrology as overly rigid. But in my experience, all these tools are essential.
- Astrology is the map—the why behind our struggles and strengths.
- Psychic mediumship is the compass—the how to navigate them, often with guidance from spirits.
- Reiki and sound healing are the balm—the vibrational medicine that realigns the body and soul.
When combined, they create a holistic approach to healing and insight.
Stepping Fully Into My Role—and What I’ve Learned
Today, I no longer hesitate to call myself a psychic, a medium, an astrologer, and a healer. The past decade of psychic fairs, client sessions, and spiritual exploration has shown me that these gifts are not just real—they’re meant to be shared.
Some of the most profound moments in my work have been:
- Connecting clients with departed loved ones, watching their grief soften into recognition.
- Using tuning forks to “tune” a client’s energy like an instrument, witnessing their relief as dissonance dissolves.
- Blending Reiki with astrology, sending healing energy ahead of a difficult planetary transit.
This work isn’t about prediction or rigid systems. It’s about healing—helping people feel seen, guided, and supported on their journey.
Practical Exercises to Develop Your Psychic Abilities
If you’re reading this and feel drawn to develop your own intuitive gifts, know this: psychic abilities aren’t reserved for a special few. Like any skill, they grow stronger with practice. Here are some exercises that helped me—and continue to help my students—awaken and refine these natural capacities:
- Dream Journaling for Premonitions
What to do:Keep a notebook by your bed. Upon waking, immediately record everything you remember—images, emotions, colors, even fragments. Over time, look for patterns or “hits” that later manifest in waking life.
Why it works:This trains your subconscious to bring prophetic dreams into conscious awareness. My most accurate premonitions came through dreams I might have forgotten without recording.
- The “Psychic Ping” Meditation
What to do:Sit quietly with a friend’s photo (with their permission). Relax your mind, then notice the first impression that comes—a taste, temperature, emotion, or image. Later, check with your friend about its accuracy.
Why it works:This builds your clairsentience (clear feeling) and teaches you to trust those immediate “pings” of intuition.
- Tarot for Intuition (No Guidebooks!)
What to do:Pull one card daily. Before looking up meanings, describe what you see—the colors, body language, symbols—and how it relates to your day. Only then consult the guide.
Why it works:This method, which I used early on, develops your personal symbolic language beyond memorized meanings.
- The “Three Objects” Psychic Game
What to do:Have a friend place 3 unknown objects in a box. Hold your hands over it and describe the impressions you get—textures, purposes, even memories attached. Then check.
Why it works:This playful exercise, similar to how I trained at psychic fairs, sharpens clairvoyance and claircognizance (clear seeing/knowing).
- Moon Water for Intuitive Boosts
What to do:On the full moon, place water in a clear glass under moonlight. The next morning, drink it while setting an intention to open your psychic channels.
Why it works:In my Wiccan studies, I learned the moon amplifies intuition. This ritual creates a physical anchor for that energy.
- Automatic Writing for Spirit Communication
What to do:Light a candle, quiet your mind, and write whatever comes without editing—even if it seems nonsensical at first.
Why it works:This technique, which evolved into my mediumship practice, bypasses the critical mind to allow spirit messages through.
Remember: Progress is subtle at first. You might get a fleeting image that later proves true, or a “gut feeling” about someone’s unspoken emotion. That is psychic ability beginning to speak. The key is consistency—like my daily dance practices once were, these exercises build “muscle memory” for your intuition.
- The “Empty Chair” Technique for Beginner Mediumship
What to do:
- Set up a quiet space with two chairs facing each other. Light a white candle (for protection and clarity).
- In one chair, place a photo or personal item of a deceased loved one you knew well (start with familiar energies).
- Sit in the opposite chair, ground yourself (imagine roots growing from your feet into the earth), and say aloud: “I invite only [name] to communicate with love and truth.”
- Close your eyes and visualize them sitting across from you. Ask simple questions like: “What do you want me to know?” or “Do you have a message for someone?”
- Notice the first impressions that come—a warmth in your chest, a scent, words in your mind, or even a pressure in your hands. Don’t filter—just observe.
Why it works:
This method, which helped me transition from Tarot to mediumship, creates a “container” for spirit communication. The physical anchor (chair/item) focuses your energy, while the verbal invitation maintains boundaries.
Safety Tip: Always visualize a white light surrounding you before and after, and say “Our connection is now complete” aloud when finished. If you feel uneasy, extinguish the candle and wash your hands in saltwater.
My “Aha” Moment:
When I first tried this, my grandmothers’s perfume scent filled the room—something I hadn’t smelled in decades. That sensory confirmation taught me to trust subtle spirit signs.
A Message to Fellow Practitioners
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: the most powerful practitioners are those who refuse to limit themselves. Whether you’re just starting with these exercises or have years of experience, honor those flickers of intuition. They’re the seeds of gifts waiting to unfold.
As for me? I’ve danced under the spotlight, deciphered the stars, and channeled voices from beyond. This is who I am, this is what I do, and I’m honored to walk this path with all of you—especially those just beginning to discover their own extraordinary capacities.
