I’m a medium, but I’m not only a medium.
By Karen Baldwin, Evidential Medium
There is a funny thing that happens when people learn that I am a psychic and medium.
For a moment, I can almost see the picture forming in their mind.
Perhaps they imagine that I live in a permanent haze of incense, waiting for the next mysterious sign. Perhaps they wonder whether I can hear their thoughts or receive messages while standing beside them in the cereal aisle.
Some people become curious. Some become cautious. Others look as though they are trying very hard not to think anything incriminating in my presence.
The truth is far less dramatic.
Yes, I am a psychic and evidential medium. I take that work seriously. I have trained extensively in Australia, Germany and the United Kingdom, and I care deeply about doing the work responsibly.
I also have a Bachelor of Economics, work in an ordinary office job and run this entire business by myself.
I answer the emails. I organise the venues. I write the event descriptions, manage the bookings, update the website and wrestle with technology that apparently exists solely to test my spiritual development.
Then there is Gavin, my West Highland White Terrier, whose priorities generally involve food, walks, neighbourhood surveillance and being the centre of attention.
Mediumship is an important part of my life.
But it is not the whole of me.
Key takeaways
I do not walk around permanently switched on or read people without their consent.
Mediumship is sacred to me, but I remain an ordinary person with an ordinary life.
My practical, analytical and humorous sides are not separate from my spiritual awareness.
Being grounded does not mean lacking personality, emotion or spiritual depth.
You do not need to adopt a spiritual identity or belief system to attend one of my events.
I’m not permanently switched on
One of the most common misconceptions about psychic and mediumistic work is that it must be happening all the time.
That is not how I understand or practise it.
A reading has a beginning and an end. An evening of mediumship has a clear purpose. When I work, I intentionally attune to the person or the spirit world and give the communication my full attention.
When the work finishes, I return to the rest of my life.
I do not sit across from someone at lunch and decide that their private life is available for inspection. I do not read strangers in the supermarket. I do not treat every thought, coincidence, feather or unexpected song as a message requiring urgent interpretation.
Ability does not cancel consent.
It also does not remove the need for rest, privacy or an identity beyond the work.
Sacred work can still have boundaries
Calling mediumship work does not make it less sacred to me.
A medium is an ambassador for the spirit world. We may be communicating with someone whose death has left an enormous space in another person’s life. What we say matters, as does the way we say it.
That responsibility deserves preparation, attention and appropriate boundaries.
It does not require me to remain in a mystical state every hour of the day.
In fact, constantly trying to be “on” would not make me a better medium. It would make me exhausted and probably unbearable to live with.
Research in ordinary workplaces supports the value of mentally disengaging from work. One large review, involving more than 38,000 employees, found that switching off was associated with lower exhaustion, better wellbeing and better sleep, although results varied across the studies. Research on detaching from work
Another review examined 159 studies into what helps or prevents people from switching off, while a separate analysis found that practical interventions can modestly improve this ability. Review of psychological detachment, Interventions for switching off from work
These researchers were not studying mediums. The principle is simply human: people need parts of their lives in which work is not occupying the whole room.
I am no exception.
The rest of my life keeps me grounded
Most days, my life looks remarkably ordinary.
I go to work. I come home. I think about dinner. I answer messages. I tell myself I will do the paperwork tomorrow and then become annoyed with the person who left it until tomorrow.
That person is me.
I spend time with friends. I travel. I write stories about Gavin’s ridiculous adventures. I worry about things, become excited about new ideas and occasionally stay up far too late trying to solve a problem that could probably have waited until morning.
None of this competes with my mediumship.
It gives the work somewhere solid to stand.
My economics degree did not prevent me from becoming spiritually aware. My spiritual awareness does not prevent me from thinking analytically or holding a serious professional role.
I can discuss the economy and the spirit world.
I can stand in front of an audience and surrender to the communication, then return home and take Gavin outside because his bladder does not care that I have just had a profound spiritual experience.
These things belong to the same person.
I don’t wear a spiritual overcoat
When I first entered this world, I thought I might have to look and sound more obviously spiritual.
People sent me links to kaftans. I tried some of the flowery language. I assumed there was a particular type of person I was supposed to become.
It never felt natural.
As I began training with experienced mediums, I discovered something wonderfully refreshing.
They were ordinary people.
They wore normal clothes. They had different personalities, professions and lives. When they demonstrated mediumship, they dressed appropriately for the occasion in much the same way anyone would when appearing at an event.
No costume required.
That helped me understand that I did not need to perform a spiritual identity. I needed to develop my ability, respect the work and become more comfortable being myself.
For me, grounded does not mean quiet, solemn or beige.
I am lively. I have a dry and sometimes dark sense of humour. I speak directly. I can bounce around a room during an event because I genuinely love working with an audience.
The calmness people experience at my events comes from the absence of pressure, drama and manufactured fear.
It does not come from me pretending I have the personality of a scented candle.
What will you experience at one of my events?
You will meet the same Karen you encounter here.
I am not going to emerge in a cloud of smoke and claim secret knowledge about everyone in the room. I will explain what I do, how the evening works and what you can expect.
Then I will get on with the job.
You are welcome to arrive curious, skeptical, experienced or completely new to mediumship. You do not have to adopt my beliefs. You do not have to participate, and you are not required to accept information that does not make sense to you.
You can observe the work and decide what the experience means for yourself.
There will also be laughter.
Mediumship can be deeply moving, but the people communicating from the spirit world had personalities. They were funny, stubborn, complicated, warm, direct and recognisably themselves.
An evening does not have to become heavy or theatrical simply because the work matters.
Afterwards, you may well find me in the bar having a drink and talking to people.
That is not me stepping out of character.
That is the character.
Why does the human inside the medium matter?
People need to know who they are dealing with.
Training matters. Experience matters. Boundaries matter. But the person carrying those things matters too.
You should be able to ask questions. You should feel free to say no. You should not be pressured to treat everything I say as unquestionable wisdom simply because I work as a medium.
I am not an all-knowing spiritual authority.
I do not make decisions for people, diagnose their health, predict their death or provide readings through unsolicited social-media messages.
Sometimes I establish a strong connection and the evidence flows beautifully.
Sometimes the work takes more patience.
Sometimes I have nothing, and I will tell you.
My humanity is not something I need to conceal behind a polished spiritual identity. It is what allows me to meet another person honestly.
You can be curious and sensible
People sometimes feel that they must choose between spiritual curiosity and common sense.
They worry that being open will make them gullible, or that being skeptical will somehow block the experience.
I do not accept that choice.
You can be curious and careful.
You can be moved and still ask questions.
You can experience something you cannot explain without immediately constructing an entire belief system around it.
That is the community I want to build: ordinary people having thoughtful conversations about unusual experiences.
Some people will come because they already believe in mediumship. Some will come because they are grieving. Some will attend because a friend bought the tickets and they thought, “Well, this should be interesting.”
All are welcome.
You do not need crystals, cards, a caftan or the correct spiritual vocabulary.
You only need to arrive as yourself.
Frequently asked questions
Can a medium read everyone they meet?
Working as a medium requires intention, focus and consent. I do not walk around reading strangers or examining the private lives of people I meet socially. Even if I become aware of something, that does not automatically give me permission to communicate it.
Will you know what I am thinking?
No. Mediumship is not mind reading, and I am not interested in inspecting people’s private thoughts. During psychic work, I intentionally attune to the person and their present circumstances. That happens within the agreed boundaries of a reading, not simply because someone happens to be nearby.
Do I need to believe in mediumship before attending an event?
No. You are welcome to attend with curiosity, belief or skepticism. You can observe what happens and decide what the experience means to you. You will not be required to participate, accept a communication or adopt my Spiritualist understanding of the work.
Do mediums receive messages constantly?
That is not my experience. I have clear working and non-working time. Mediumship is something I intentionally engage with during readings, demonstrations and development. I do not treat every ordinary thought or event as communication from the spirit world.
Why is an ordinary life important to your work?
Ordinary life keeps me connected to practical reality, other people and the full range of who I am. It reminds me that mediumship is one part of my identity. That makes it easier to approach the work with clear boundaries and without turning myself into a spiritual performance.
I’m a medium, but I’m still Karen
Mediumship has expanded my world.
It has introduced me to extraordinary people, taken me overseas and given me experiences I could never have imagined when I first walked into a development group.
It has also taught me that I do not need to become less ordinary to honour the work.
I can bring reverence to mediumship and still laugh.
I can hold someone’s grief carefully and still tell ridiculous stories about my dog.
I can have an analytical mind and spiritual awareness.
I can be completely serious about my responsibility without taking myself terribly seriously.
When people meet me at an event, in a private reading or through my writing, I want them to meet the same person.
Not a brand character. Not an all-knowing guru. Not a woman floating through life in a kaftan.
Karen.
A normal person doing unusual work.
Keep reading
My Story: How a sensitive and frightened child eventually became a professionally trained medium.
My Approach: The principles that guide my psychic and mediumistic work.
Does Every Unusual Experience Come From the Spirit World?: Why curiosity and common sense can comfortably coexist.
Boundaries and Expectations: What you can expect from me during a reading or event.
About Karen Baldwin
Karen Baldwin is a Canberra-based evidential medium with a Bachelor of Economics. She has trained extensively in Australia, Germany and the United Kingdom and offers private readings and public evenings of mediumship. Away from the work, much of her life is organised around Gavin, her West Highland White Terrier.