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Purple Reign


I was doing laundry when the phone rang. Janet’s voice came across the line.


“I have something to tell you,” she began, as I transferred sheets from the washer to the dryer.


“Prince is sitting on my bathtub,” she revealed, as if talking about the weather.


I stood up straight.


“Prince? As in, the recently deceased musician, formerly known as Prince?”


“Yes, of course,” she sounded irritated in response to my tone of disbelief. “I was putting on make-up in the mirror and suddenly noticed him sitting there on the edge.”


“So, what was he wearing?” I decided to challenge her.


As a psychic-medium, I knew she could speak to the dead, but for some reason I doubted the spirit of a famous celebrity was making an appearance in a New Jersey bathroom belonging to a woman who probably couldn’t even name one song the artist wrote.


I didn’t doubt her the first time I sat at her dark corner table in the downtown café decorated with tarot cards and candlesticks when she helped me connect to my grandmother who had passed over.


Granny had a lovely dog on her farm in Ireland, a collie she named Duke who brought the cattle up from the fields each night. He resembled Lassie and was a magnet for affection. I was always afraid of dogs growing up in New York City because neighbors often owned guard dogs like Pit Bulls, Dobermans, and Rottweilers. They barked ferociously as I walked to school with only a five-foot metal fence between my skin and their teeth. But I never feared Duke.


When Granny called to her chickens alerting them of feeding time, “Juke, juke, juke…,” the dog came running instead. And when she called for the dog, “Duke! Duke?” the hungry chickens were at her feet. So she eventually gave the dog a name change, and a promotion – Prince.


Prince (the collie formerly known as Duke) never wore a dog collar on the Donegal farm, but the songwriter of the same name definitely had a particular style. So when I asked Janet what the spirit of the artist formerly known as Prince was wearing, she answered nonchalantly.


“Well,” she paused in her recollection, “he had black eyeliner, a tank top, sweatpants, and flip flops. Darling boy,” she added at the end of the description, revealing the years she had over him.


“And why did he visit you?” I was still in disbelief.


“That’s exactly what I asked him,” her enthusiasm was growing. “How can I be of service, I said. And he replied, I need you to connect me with my closest friends. And I said, well how do you expect me to do that? And he replied, ask Tara.”


“Wait, what?” I stopped sorting my socks. “Prince asked you to ask me?”


Now I was in major disbelief. Although I admired the man’s work when he was alive, I did not own one single record of his music. I once had a poster of Michael Jackson on my wall when I was a member of the PYT Club in junior high school – Pretty Young Things – but I never owned a raspberry beret.


I told Janet I had to get back to my laundry.


The next morning while scrolling online, an article caught my attention. An acquaintance who writes the entertainment news for a major media company published a story that day about her interview with Prince’s closest friends.


I put my coffee mug down and immediately typed my journalist friend a message. I gave her Janet’s phone number and explained the unbelievable story. I then texted Janet to inform her of my participation in the interconnectedness of all there is.


She responded simply, “This is how the universe works.”


There are seven colorful energy centers aligned within our bodies. The crown chakra in our heads is connected to our higher consciousness and helps with awareness beyond our limited thoughts and beliefs. Its color is purple. When we tune in to the vibration of this chakra, we have access to divine consciousness. In layman’s terms, if the artist formerly known as Prince wants to communicate from the beyond, he can easily find the radio frequency that is available for his vibe. Janet, as a psychic medium, is currently on that channel. But we all have VIP access to the stars and their energy in this galaxy and beyond. When we discover that divinity resides within each of us and we learn how to unblock our crown chakras, we become more open to new ideas, learn to trust our intuition, and begin to receive universal wisdom in the form of purple reign.


Prince now comes to me in my dreams, and so does Lady Day, a.k.a. Billie Holiday, the artist formerly known as Eleanora Fagan. I’m thinking it’s high time we collaborate on an album together because they remind me through the whispers of their soul songs that we are all kings, queens, princes, and dukes, no matter how many times we change our names.




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