34 Years, 18,000 Readings: Lessons I've Learned Along the Way
I didn't set out to become a psychic medium. I went for a haircut.
That's not a joke or a hook I'm using to pull you in. It's genuinely how this started. Thirty-four years, more than 18,000 readings, and over 5,000 healing sessions later, I still think about that Saturday in a Kitchener salon chair more than almost anything else in my career, because it reminds me that none of this was planned. It just kept happening, one honest conversation at a time.
How It Actually Started
I moved to Kitchener and needed a haircut. A friend pointed me toward a stylist named Aaron. Within the first minute of sitting down, Aaron looked at me and said, "So you're a psychic. Tell me something." I was mortified. Almost nobody knew about my abilities at that point, and I certainly wasn't walking around introducing myself that way. But I shared a few things with him that I had no way of knowing, and he was floored. Then he made a suggestion that changed the direction of my life: come into the salon on Saturdays and offer short readings to clients.
That's how my professional career began. Not a business plan. Not an ad campaign. A haircut.
From there, word of mouth took over completely. Clients told friends. Friends told family. Kitchener-Waterloo has a large university population, and students who came in for readings went home and told people in other cities. Before long I was doing more readings than I could fit around my regular job, and the math made the decision for me. I've always been practical. If this work was supporting me better than my nine-to-five, that was clearly where I was supposed to be.
There's something I still find worth saying out loud: the thing that built this career wasn't marketing. It was people trusting me enough to tell someone else.
The People's Psychic
People ask me fairly often what it means to be called The People's Psychic, and the honest answer is simpler than they expect. I've never believed guidance should feel intimidating, mysterious, or reserved for people with a certain amount of money or status. Over three decades and thousands of psychic readings and healing sessions, I've sat across from students, single parents, CEOs, first responders, retirees, and yes, some famous faces. What I learned early is that none of that changes what someone is actually looking for once we start talking.
I don't talk about the celebrities I've worked with, and I'm not going to start now. Not because there's anything scandalous to protect, but because the moment I start naming names, I've turned someone's private, often vulnerable conversation into content. That's not what this work is for. What I will say is that some of my most memorable moments professionally have happened in unexpected places, sitting with clients on the Warner Bros. and Universal Studios lots in Los Angeles, and more than a few of you have spotted me in the audience of The Ellen DeGeneres Show over the years. I always got a kick out of the messages afterward: "Lewis, is that you?" Those still make me smile. But whether someone is a household name or someone I met through a friend of a friend, the conversation in the room is treated exactly the same way. That consistency is the whole point of the name.
Same Questions, Different Decade
Here's something that hasn't changed in 34 years, and honestly, I doubt it ever will. Strip away the circumstances, the job titles, the zip codes, and almost everyone who sits down with me wants the same handful of things. They want to know they're loved. They want to feel secure. They want reassurance that the decision in front of them isn't going to blow up their life. They want to know they're not as stuck as they feel.
What's changed is the noise around those questions. Thirty years ago there was no social media pulling people's attention in fifteen directions before they even had a chance to hear their own thoughts. People today are drowning in other people's opinions before they've had a moment to figure out their own. That's the real shift I've watched. Not what people need, but how much harder it's become for them to hear themselves long enough to know what they need.
Watching Families Grow Up
One of the most humbling parts of this career has been watching relationships stretch across generations. I've worked with families across Canada, the United States, and now clients in more than 30 countries, long enough to watch parents continue their own journey with me while their kids grew into adults and started booking their own psychic medium readings. I'm not just meeting new people at that point. I'm watching chapters unfold in families I've known for years.
There's a version of this that happens more often than you'd think: someone books their first session in their twenties, a little skeptical, a little curious, and mentions offhand that their mom or dad has been seeing me since before they were born. That kind of trust doesn't come from advertising. It comes from a parent who felt heard enough, years earlier, to want that same experience for their own child when the time came.
What Longevity Actually Teaches You
When I started, I was in my twenties, and a lot of my clients had more life experience than I did. Back then I could point someone toward a challenge or nudge them in a direction. These days I go deeper. I don't just help someone see where they want to go, I help them understand the steps to actually get there. Experience gave me perspective, and perspective made me a better guide.
I've also had to learn patience with myself, which might surprise people who assume a psychic medium has that part figured out. I don't. What I've gotten better at is slowing down long enough to ask what I actually need before I try to show up for everyone else. When my own cup is full, I do better work. That's not a spiritual concept. That's just true for most people in most professions.
If there's one line from this entire career I'd want someone to walk away with, it's this: this work was never really about predictions. It's always been about people.
Still Showing Up, After All This Time
After more than three decades, new clients still find me every week, from Woodstock, Ontario, all the way to countries I've never set foot in. To me, that's the real measurement of whether any of this has meant something. Not the number of readings, though 18,000 is a number I don't take lightly. It's the fact that people keep finding their way here, often because someone they trust sent them.
Where I Land On All of It
When I think back on that Saturday in Aaron's chair, I don't recognize the version of myself who had no idea what he was starting. I didn't know then that a haircut would turn into a career spanning more than 30 countries, or that I'd spend decades watching kids I once heard about secondhand grow up and sit across from me themselves. What I know now, that I didn't know then, is that none of the numbers are really the point. Eighteen thousand readings is a lot of Saturdays, a lot of Zoom calls, a lot of people who trusted me with something they hadn't said out loud to anyone else yet. If I've learned one thing after all this time, it's that longevity in this work isn't about being right more often. It's about caring enough, every single time, that people can tell the difference.
If you're curious what a conversation like that actually feels like, whether you're brand new to this or you've been considering it for a while, I'd genuinely love to talk with you. You can book a session with me here.
