Live into your highest Potential.

I was gifted an intuitive session with Beth by my friend Florence for my birthday. I had never had a reading with a psychic medium—or anything like it—but Florence knew I would be open to the experience and excited by such an unusual gift.

Early in the session, Beth said she sensed my father in spirit. She told me that he was singing lullabies to me. I replied that I had no memory of my father ever singing. Beth paused, then said she couldn't let it go because my father was being so insistent. She said he just kept singing "Daddy's Hands."

The moment she said those words, I immediately teared up.

It wasn't because my father had sung that song to me—he hadn't. It was because I knew, instantly, that Beth was somehow connecting with him. My hands are almost identical to my father's hands. For most of my life, I hated them. I wanted my mother's slender, graceful hands with long fingers, not my father's broad palms and short, stubby fingers. I distinctly remember crying about my hands when I was nine or ten years old.

That discomfort stayed with me for decades until one day I had an unexpected realization. Someday my father would be gone, but as long as I lived, I could look down at my own hands and still see his. What I had once considered a flaw had become a precious gift—a lifelong reminder of someone I loved.

When Beth said my father was there and kept singing "Daddy's Hands," something shifted profoundly inside me. For the first time in my life, I knew that consciousness continues after death. I knew—not just as an idea or a belief, but as something I had experienced—that our souls and our individual personalities survive the death of our bodies.

Years of Catholic upbringing, along with exploring other faith traditions and philosophies, had never given me the certainty that I received during that single session with Beth.

She could have ended the reading there, but instead she spoke about the importance of listening to my intuition. She said she sensed that I had intuitive gifts of my own and encouraged me to explore them. She recommended another spiritual teacher she thought I would resonate with and suggested I look into her work. She also told me about her work with the Monroe Institute and encouraged me to see whether any of her upcoming classes felt like a good fit.

That conversation took place a couple of years ago, yet I still hear Beth's gentle reminder to pay attention to that quiet inner voice.

Since then, I've taken many of Beth's classes, both through the Monroe Institute and of her own design. I'm deeply grateful for how much my understanding of consciousness has expanded because of her guidance.

Perhaps the greatest gift of all is that I have completely lost my lifelong fear of death. I no longer believe that death is an ending. I believe it is simply a transition—that consciousness continues, our essence remains, and we move into another state of being. That single hour with Beth changed the trajectory of my spiritual life in ways I could never have imagined.