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It was a day like any other... I was meeting Margaret for lunch. She had published her book Gods of the Word and I guess I felt proud to be sharing time with her. “If I wrote a book, I would call it The Happy Medium”, I offered. And Margaret replied, 'Well, if the universe has given a name, that means it already exists out there in the ether somewhere, and if you want, I'll write it for you.' 'Don't question. Just go with it,' insisted the voice. And Margaret prompted me to start talking... so I did. Thank you, my spiritual friend.
I'd like to express further appreciation to my grandfather Tom and all of my friends and relatives on the other side... to my parents Robert and Gladys Bland... thank you. And to my sister Bonnie Dorman for her belief and persistent support of me, a big thank you, too. I extend my deepest gratitude also to you John Curtis,
G. G. Swanson, and my Clients... I've learned so much about myself through your life experiences.
To my beautiful son, Kristofor Swanson, no matter what was happening in my life, I could always smile at the thought of you. And lastly, thanks to my husband Billy, for exhibiting such patience, caring and compassion... for having the knowledge to make this project with Margaret possible.
Always,
Janice L. Tarver, ‘The Happy Medium’
www.janicetarver.com
Janice and I have discussed the creation of a book at infrequent times over the past few years, recognizing, of course, that the task would probably neither be attempted nor be completed.
This text is the product of the love that exists between friends. Margaret Magnus was compelled to provide Janice with a labor of love: that is, to write a book about Janice... using transcripts of their interviews and Janice's experiences as her material sources.
After reading Margaret's original text, Janice felt that the interviews had provided neither sufficient detail nor a completely competent chronology of events. Hence, Janice became motivated (at last) to deliver her story in long hand. At this time, we also concluded that soliciting commentary from her clients might not be such a bad idea either.
It became my task to word process Janice's text and integrate it with Margaret's transcript, the result of which is here.
Enjoy the mystery!
Billy Tarver
It is important to play with your comfort zone in life, to feel into it. That has been a big issue for me in choosing the profession of a psychic. I'm learning to not apologize for what I do well. We all have our own unique and natural gifts. I encourage my clients to explore theirs, whether to have patience, or a desire to help others, or a teaching ability or even an artistic endeavor... whatever.
But it is not always so easy to find your place in the world. Many people don't believe in their gifts. They'll say, 'Yes, I'm good at that, but I cannot earn a living doing it.' And with that, the first obstacle to developing their skills has already been put in place. Through my business, I've met many people who were miserable with their professions, but who did their jobs because of family demands. I've met others who chose their walk of life because of an abusive past... who used it as a safe haven from the troubles of world. We all have our reasons for what we do, and we all need a place where we're comfortable. Sometimes it takes great courage to put yourself where you really belong.
It took me a very long time to find my niche in the world. And when I first started to follow my natural path, I was afraid to tell people what I did for a living. People can give you the strangest looks and ask the strangest questions. As it turns out, many people are not comfortable with what I do for a living, but then, they are not me. I've learned to be okay with that, because now finally, I am comfortable with myself and with what I do. For me it's like breathing... Now at long last, I know the joy of doing something that requires no effort and that is genuinely helpful to others.
My greatest fear since childhood has always been that other people would judge me... I cannot help laughing now when I look at what a ballpark I've manifested to play in—Wow! I'm a medium... A HAPPY MEDIUM. Hopefully this little book will help you find your happy medium too.
Light and love,
Janice
In late March 1993, I was invited to what for me was an unusual party. My hostess, Gill, had a reading with a clairvoyant woman, Janice Curtis (now Janice Tarver), and had been so impressed by it, that she'd invited Janice to her home to give 15 minute readings for her friends. I finally accepted the invitation, but only after being reassured that this Janice would not come dressed like a gypsy, that she was just an ordinary citizen who happened to be clairvoyant. I found it curious that Gill was so prepared to place her reputation on the line as to invite me -her employer -to this gathering.
I was then married, running a small computer business, very much immersed in the workaday world. My background coming into this was that of a scientist, though I was not what they call a scientific materialist. I felt also then that there must be a great deal more to this world than meets the eye. At the time I met Janice, I believed that I was open-minded about clairvoyance. It seemed to me 'unscientific' to dismiss something just because you personally hadn't experienced it. If that's how we thought, I reasoned, what could a molecule in the middle of a block of granite think about what was possible? On the other hand, I'd never had a Tarot reading or an astrological chart done. I'd never had my palm read. I'd never tried the I Ching.
I'd never been tempted. The main reason I didn't seek out the paranormal was that it seemed to me that what was most important in life was to be true to yourself, to seek understanding, to do justice, to love mercy and so on and so forth. In fact, naive though it may sound, that's still what I think. So already then, I'd invested a lot of energy into trying to understand things, given what I already had right in front of me.
Furthermore, I perceived several dangers in seeking out the paranormal. For one thing, it seemed to me that if clairvoyance could be readily verified, it would be common knowledge by now, seeing as if it exists at all, it has been around since the dawn of mankind. Despite my many painful personal collisions with the 'mainstream', I still found it very suspect that the paranormal lay outside of it. This was something that should be testable, and if it was testable, why didn't somebody just test it and declare it to be true? One could hardly say that it wasn't interesting or relevant enough to demand attention. What little I had seen in the form of Chinese fortune cookies and the like was either hopelessly vague or just plain wrong. I'm neither sociable nor entertaining, I've never had a full year of good luck in my entire life, and my business most certainly did not assume vast proportions...
A more serious danger seemed to me that the paranormal was seductive. We all probably subconsciously want something fantastical to be true. It's like sex. It adds spice to life, and there's nothing wrong with that in itself. But I'd seen quite some number of people whose entire lives had been devoted to sex and weird phenomena without thereby gaining much of anything beyond a lot of sex and weirdness... or so it seemed to me.
But despite all these concerns, I went to this party. If, as Gill had claimed, this woman really was clairvoyant, it would be a marvelous bit of data that I could stuff in my proverbial pipe and smoke.
***
Shortly after the reading, I wrote:
'It's worth actually thinking about why people (myself included) have such an unbalanced view toward such phenomena. Why can't we relate to it like anything else? Many people have never seen, for example, a black tulip. Still there are no great contingencies among the human race for and against black tulips. Clairvoyance is a different matter. What's the big deal? Obviously, clairvoyance is at odds with materialism, but then so is quantum electrodynamics.'
I'll go into some detail concerning my state of mind at the time, because in a way, that's the whole point. As I (and for that matter Janice) see it, the point of engaging a clairvoyant is not to help you decide whether to buy the blue car or the green one, nor is it to discover who Gerald is really sleeping with.
Its purpose is to promote understanding, to reaffirm the truth. And as with all things, you succeed to the extent that you are willing to be open and generous of spirit. I wrote at the time:
'There are other reasons I don't doubt the evidence. The primary reason is actually just the feeling I have about this woman. It would be absurdly paranoid, for example, to think that my uncle or my brother, whom I've known and loved well all my life, are plotting against me. They just have a certain openness and way about them. They never do that kind of thing. There was the same feeling about her.
She was normal and well adjusted and carries with her the predictable doubts and confusions, hopes and joys of a fully human life. She never pretended to know more than she knew or to be other than what she was.
When I arrived at this party, Janice was seated on the couch. She was very nicely dressed, though not extravagantly. My first impression of her turned out to be correct —she came from a middle class family, and had not particularly cared for school. She was very open toward me, and put me quickly at ease. But she asked me nothing about myself, and I of course didn't offer any information. She withdrew shortly thereafter to the bedroom, and started the readings.
What happened next is hard to describe, because it happened on so many levels. But let me begin with the easy part. I'll just paraphrase what she said based on the notes r took immediately after the reading.
'I see the name Margaret or Martha.'
Well, my name is Margaret, but that statement left
me unimpressed, because she probably was told who was coming to the party, or maybe I even introduced myself.
'Is this your mother's or your maternal grandmother's name?'
Yes, both, actually. My mother and grandmother are both Margaret... but she might have lamed this somehow.
'Your grandmother is no longer in this world, but you have the mark that she is watching over you. She learns from observing how you live your life. Did she care very much for you?'
Yes, in fact, I was one of the many apples of her eye, but even if I hadn't been, how was I supposed to verify that she was watching me, I wondered? And the fact that she was dead was a pretty safe bet... I was, after all, already in my mid-30s. And most granddaughters are the apples of their grandparents' eye, aren't they?
'Your grandmother was a very warm person, very easy to get along with, very caring.' This was actually true.
'Your father has passed away. He suffered a lengthy illness before he died. He comes from another country, a northern country. I see lots of water in and surrounding this country.'
My father was Norwegian born, and died after suffering from dystrophy for over a decade and lymphoma for several years. At this point my belly started feeling a little jelly-like, but Gill may well have known all this about my father, and I didn't really know how well she was acquainted with Janice.
'He didn't let go earlier, because there was one specific person he stayed alive for. In general, your father suffered a great deal also in his youth. Did he have a childhood illness?'
He was laid up in bed for three years from age 9 to age 12 with epilepsy. He was in the Norwegian underground in W.W.II, and barely missed being captured by the Nazis. His best friend was not so fortunate. His father died when he was 9 of cancer, and his elder brother died in an avalanche while skiing. His mother was unable to support the family thereafter. I couldn't remember ever saying any of this to any of my employees.? Maybe my husband did?
'Did he have a great love of nature?'
Yes, in fact, he was up hiking or cross-country skiing almost every week-end. He insisted on buying a cabin in the mountains, so we could spend as much time in the wild as possible, and he said he only regretted that you could drive up to the door. He wished it were accessible only on foot. He especially loved
Nordmarka, which is the forest surrounding the city of Oslo where he grew up. He said that the Colorado climate was a Little too dry for him.
'I feel he wants you to visit to his homeland to share with you something in the nature there that he never fully shared with you when he was alive. I see the name Joseph. Your father had a friend called Joseph, a sculptor? No?'
This was simply false. My father didn't know any artists or any Josephs in the States. I would have heard of them. And there are no people named Joseph in the old country. It's just not a Norwegian name. It's also not one of the Christian/Hebrew names that Norwegians tend to borrow. I told her as much.
'No... the name I see is Joseph... Your father has a namesake?'
My cousin who lived in Oslo at the lime. I saw or heard very little of him.
'He was recently divorced?'
True.
'You're a reader. There are a lot of books in your house?'
Well, that's no mystery. Anyone who looks at me for a few seconds senses I'm rather bookish. But by now I confess I was wondering what was going on.
'Your mother has had a dear friend since her youth named Martha? She still maintains contact with Martha?'
Why. yes. One of her best old friends is Martha. I doubt even my husband knew that.
'Is Martha unwell? I see an illness.'
As far as I know, Martha has been as healthy as a horse since the time of the reading.
'I see study. You are returning to the university to study? I see your study opening many doors for you. I see you have doubts about pursuing this? You should put aside your doubts.'
In the process of doing my work, I had just observed an interesting fact about language, and I was considering writing a second dissertation and approaching my former advisor with it. But the topic was not 'mainstream' and I was afraid I would just get laughed at and waste a lot of time to no end. In a manner of speaking, that's what happened. I wrote the dissertation, submitted it, and no one read it. I got no degrees and certainly landed no jobs thanks to that investment of time. But on another level, I do consider it a success, because it's my 'best thing'. It left me feeling I had not quite lived in vain. Just recently a book came out which I wrote about my research, and a different university has offered me a degree.
'And you've just taken on a lot of responsibility at work? You see this as conflicting with your studies?'
I'd just officially accepted the position of CEO of the business. It demanded a lot of time, and so I'd decided to put off the dissertation idea.
'Is your husband in the military?'
Certainly not.
'Is someone in your immediate family in the military?'
Certainly not.
'Then this symbol means that you feel terribly trapped in your current circumstance. Sometimes this happens in a marriage.'
It was true, but I was not at that time prepared to admit it, even to myself, so I denied it.
'You should write about your freedom and your imprisonment.'
I did indeed write several poems entitled 'My Freedom and my Imprisonment', and these served as a catalyst which led to many changes for me.
'Your husband is climbing the ladder of success and you are getting in his way with your fear.'
This was true.
'Your husband underestimates his good qualities, and this makes him feel insecure. You should be aware of this.'
This was true.
'Your husband will soon invite you on a trip... to New York perhaps.'
He had just invited me to NY the day before.
'I see a move. You'll not move far from where you live now. Do you plan to sell your house?'
This didn't make any sense to me whatsoever at the time. There were no such plans. I was intending to live in that house until I died. And if I ever did move, it would be to distant shores. But a few months thereafter, my husband very unexpectedly (to me) did ask for a divorce, and I did move... close by. I asked her if she saw more children. She hesitated. 'I see one more child... sort of.'
I'll probably never have more children, but my ex-husband did later have a daughter by another woman. I asked her what she saw in connection with several names:
Sasha -'Either a child or like a child. Always creating new projects -finding something new to do. Spontaneous.'
He's a master programmer, always building companies, very charming. He's also very childlike in a lot of ways... impulsive and creative, also stubborn and prone to tantrums at times.
John -'I see creative writing, stories, books.'
There are two Johns in my life, but the one I was thinking of was a rather Puritanical attorney. Her description didn't match at all. I've never known the other John in my life to write anything either, though he does like to read science fiction and fantasy. I recently asked him if he'd ever thought of writing, and he said he had in fact had been evolving a story in his mind for years and had long considered writing it down.
Thomas -'What a beautiful soul, a warm, good person. Very energetic and active.'
He's a very energetic, creative and competent pilot, programmer, guitarist, traveler, inventor who had been a true friend for a number of years.
Haj -'Merry-go-round. He's like a child also, very creative. In the process of juggling jobs. Not settled anywhere.'
Haj is a childlike, good-natured and brilliant linguist, who wears brightly colored clothes. He was literally a juggler and he was very much hanging in the air professionally.
Ethel -'Your aunt or someone's aunt, a teacher:
She's my mother's paternal aunt, She taught at a private girl's high school.
Julien -'Feel nothing:
I'd met him only briefly the day before and never met him again.
Arne -'A name associated with a lot of trouble, illness, a difficult life:
This is the name of my father, my first cousin (his namesake who died just last year at the age of 49 and had in many ways a difficult time of it) and my son (who they say has a learning disability, which several specialists have classified as autism, though I think labels are stupid).
Rachel -'Willful, generous, strong, intelligent about how things are in the world, sometimes unhappy when things don't go her way:
Rachel is a very strong, intense, energetic, hard-working, intelligent and spontaneous girl with a lot of common sense. She is also something of a perfectionist, and can get quite upset with herself when things she does don't come out as she hoped, or when she feels treated unfairly.
Well, despite the misses, it was all too specific and too accurate for me to dismiss. And in retrospect, I guess I hadn't really been open to the possibility of clairvoyance, because about 3 hours after that reading my mind just went blank. I felt like I had nothing left to hold onto..The wheels started spinning, and wouldn't slow down for some time.
I'm embarrassed to admit that the first thought that came to my mind as she finished up was, 'What does a person charge for irrevocably altering your world view?' It was one thing to read accounts in books, but this was my life, a life that I knew very intimately. I was at the time very heavy into the business world, licensing software to large corporations for price tags in the tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. And I vaguely sensed that what I had just received may be worth a good deal more than that... So how do you evaluate it? Ah ha; I thought, maybe she charges a large amount of money and just hires a private detective. I decided I wasn't going to pay her a cent over $500, because beyond that, she could just hire somebody to scope me out.
I finally asked her what she charged for this service. She said that if I felt so inclined, she would accept a donation of $15. 'Say what?' I asked. Though clairvoyant, she clearly wasn't a mind-reader, because in response to the shocked expression on my face, she hastened to add that was only if I cared to offer a donation, and only if I thought the reading really merited the full $15. If so, I could put the donation in a little pouch she had placed discretely... I made a donation, of course, but considered it still a karmic debt. Now through this book, the opportunity has finally arisen to return the favor in a way that makes sense.
For approximately two weeks after that reading, I drove in a 10 mile loop around and around my house. I didn't even bother to change my route to take in some new scenery. It was as if by driving in circles, I might be able to get my mind to stop whirling around in my head. I found myself again and again thinking through what I might have told Gill. I found myself asking my husband what he might have told Gill about my family. And I of course asked Gill what she had said to Janice. Gill naturally told me that she may have given her my name, but certainly nothing else. And though I still suspected at the time that wasn't quite true, in retrospect I now know, of course, that it was.
As I was driving in circles consumed by these doubts, in came the clincher. I had written to my Norwegian aunt and uncle—my father's brother and sister—about this momentous event in my life. I have always been very close with them and gladly shared with them whatever came my way. I told them about Janice... her hits as well as her misses, like this supposed friend of my father's named Joseph... I did not mention his alleged profession in the letters. But I did mention that just to make perfectly sure, I had asked my mother, and she had confirmed that there were no Josephs. About 3 weeks later, I received a letter from my aunt and then another from my uncle. It was true, they said, that there were very few Josephs in Norway, but strangely enough, my father had in fact known a Joseph prior to the war. Due to the various trials of wartime, they had broken contact. But Joseph had gone on to become quite a prominent sculptor in Oslo.
Well whatever vestiges of my poor mind had remained sort of rooted in my old way of life were transformed to Jell-O by this unshakable and very specific fact that not even 1—not even my mother-had known about. And no, my relations confirmed, that no undercover agent that they were aware of had traveled to Norway on my $15 donation to determine the names of my father's lost childhood friends and acquaintances.
There was nothing to do for it but to reconcile myself to the existence of clairvoyance among the human race. This was not as easy for me as it may sound.
It didn't turn out to be like laming other facts. You know: the capital of Angora is Luanda, Newt Gingrich was born in 1943, Arthur Meighen was prime minister of Canada.... If I were to acknowledge and accept this fact truly, a whole lot of things around me would have to change. I was raised to be too rational to just leave one glaring anomaly hanging there without integrating it into my entire world view. 'Joshua fit the battle of Jericho...' And then the walls came tumbling down, as the saying goes. There was virtually nothing in my life that wasn't touched by this one little fact that I did indeed have to put in my pipe and smoke.
The question remained open regarding Martha, who's still healthy as a horse. I asked Janice back then about errors, and she said that she didn't doubt when she was reading. When she doubted, nothing came through. I got the impression that the essence of the process was freedom from doubt, and I can believe that easily enough. Error, she said, happened when she tried to interpret. I know for myself, it's not an easily skill just to learn to speak and not to interpret. She said that she just saw and felt things and had no idea what they meant concretely, but she would convey them, and the person receiving the reading would have to fill in the gaps.
In any case, I of course wanted another reading, that afternoon if possible, but she insisted I wait to come see her for at least another 6 months. And when I came the second lime, the reading perhaps didn't have the overwhelming effect of the first reading, but she did nevertheless tell me many useful things. She said, for example, that most of the people working for me were too creative to stay put anyone place for long, and that they would leave, which turned out to be true. She repeated that I would be moving shortly, which still seemed out of the question. And this lime I brought a photo in a manila envelope of someone that I'd had a very upsetting encounter with.
I expected her to open the envelope and tell me about this person, but she left the envelope closed, held it in her hands and told me a great deal about him. I found it very comforting that she could describe him so precisely without in any way judging him or me. I came out with the healing feeling that I wasn't nuts after all, and that everything had worked out for the best.
When I saw her a third time another 6 months later, relatively little was coming through. It seemed to me that she could read much more compellingly and precisely for people who really needed to be there. It also seemed that if I didn't ask her questions, but just let her talk to me. then the reading had much more power and relevance. She told me to keep my money, and said that she really felt that she had shared with me what she had for me... that perhaps I needed to see someone else, or more likely, I needed to pursue the abilities on my own.
She suggested rather that we meet for lunch in a couple of weeks, which we did. In that way, I got to know her personally. And when she married wild Mr. Billy Tarver, I got to know him a little too.
***
I keep asking myself: Why did I find the verification of this particular phenomenon so upsetting? And why was there such a huge difference for me between leaving the possibility for clairvoyance open and actually having it verified? I was far from being an atheist or even an agnostic when I came to see her. So what was the big deal? I guess the answer to that is that it brought the reality of something right up close and in my face.
Prior to that I had been able to dismiss a great many things... I didn't have to figure on them day to day. Now I had to figure on the fact that I was being watched over all the time, and my thoughts were being read. I didn't feel I'd lived a particularly nasty life, but nevertheless, I wasn't sure I wanted my grandmother and whoever else to be reading all my thoughts, to have them aware of all my most intimate feelings. I mentioned this to her, and she said that people on the other side were enlightened in a certain way... they weren't judgmental of my conduct. When they watched, it was only to lend support or to learn.
And I came to terms with the fact that I would have some kind of existence after death. It seemed likely that I would be held responsible for every little iota. I wasn't scared of that so much... I'd been doing my best. I think everybody does ultimately. And though I certainly had made a lot of mistakes, I felt they had been mistakes, and were not intended to harm. But it nonetheless raised the stakes on my conduct. I was somehow now responsible on a different level. So perhaps it affected me most, in that I found myself questioning all the aspects of my life... my involvement in the business, my marriage, my relationship to my children. I was looking at it all in new light.
As the months passed, I became much more preoccupied with the metaphysical in general. I found myself withdrawing from the world for several years to pause and read and reconsider everything. And now as I work on this little book, I feel myself a much different person than when it all began 6 years ago... I'm more solitary, more willing to take risks and to face fear, more insistent that my activities have meaning, more clear about what I want, more at peace with myself.