Spirit Stories
The one with the Spelling Error
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The one with the Spelling Error 〰️
A few months ago, I was in meditation — not the serene, float-away kind, but the focused, scribbling-down-intentions kind. I’d just drafted a sort of document for myself and my spirit team: goals, promises, intentions… When I finished, I asked the air around me, “Okay, what do I do now?”
“Hand it to me,” someone replied. Clear as day.
Of course. Because what else do you do with metaphysical paperwork?
I closed my eyes again and pictured his face — one of my guides whose presence has always reminded me of a mix between ancient vampire and CEO of a very well-run underworld enterprise. The image of him settled quickly: sitting behind a massive oak desk in a towering wingback chair, backlit by cathedral-style windows that didn’t seem to open onto anything earthly.
It was giving corporate afterlife. Gothic boardroom chic. I chuckled… to myself? To the room? Who knows? I just found it amusing as hell.
The I saw him staring at me, waiting and suddenly there I was, standing like a deer in headlights, holding this single sheet of paper like I’d just walked into an office without an appointment.
He didn’t speak — just looked up, extended a hand, and waited. I stepped forward and passed him the page.
He turned it around to read, studied it for a beat, then raised an eyebrow.
> “This is misspelled…”
Excuse me?!
I snapped my eyes open and looked at the literal piece of paper in front of me — the one I’d just written on. Nothing was misspelled. I double-checked. I triple-checked. Dyslexia may haunt me like an uninvited poltergeist, but dammit, I’d been careful!
That’s when I heard the chuckle. His.
I glanced back at the very top of the page and sighed — yep. There it was. An “ei” where there should’ve been an “ie.”
Cue cackling. Mine, this time.
With an exaggerated shake of my head due to complete disbelief I erased it, corrected the word, and (with great ceremony) handed the page over again in my mind. He took it, gave a nod, and said:
> “Perfect. Let’s get started.”
This might sound ridiculous or flat out wildly absurd. Or this might sound exactly like something that would happen when you take your spirit work a little too seriously and the universe decides to balance it with a punchline. But it’s also one of those moments that snaps me back into remembering: this is real.
Whenever I have an experience like this, I write it down. Not to prove it happened, but to anchor myself when I inevitably doubt everything. Because when I add up all the “wait, did that really just happen?” moments, all the wild synchronicities, all the snarky psychic banter with guides who love me enough to roast me — the only truly unbelievable thing is pretending that I didn’t just experience it for myself.
Stay A’Mused
