Meet Lewis Mabee

How I Discovered My Gifts as a Psychic Medium

It all started when I was about three or four years old.

I remember waking up one night with the feeling that someone was in my room. When I opened my eyes, I saw a woman standing in front of me. I didn't know who she was, but I wasn't scared. She smiled and sat on the edge of my bed, then started talking about my future — telling me I would see, hear, and feel things that other people wouldn't, and that one day I would be helping people make important decisions in their lives.

If you're expecting me to tell you I immediately understood the importance of that moment, I didn't. I was three or four years old. I was far more interested in the fact that I could put my hand right through her.

Looking back, I know that woman was my primary spirit guide, Sylvia. She's still very much a part of my life today — and still keeps me on track. I jokingly call her the whip-cracker, because if I start ignoring something I'm supposed to be doing, I get an energetic reminder pretty quickly.

After that experience, I got on with life. Then things just started happening. I'd walk by the phone and tell my mom that Grandpa was going to call, and a few minutes later, it would ring. Sometimes I'd tell her to set an extra place at the dinner table, and before long there'd be a knock at the door. At the time, those things felt completely normal to me. They were simply part of life.

By the time I was eight or nine, things were happening more often. One night, playing kick-the-can with friends, I suddenly stopped and called my friend David over — I could hear people talking, loud and clear. David listened for a few seconds, told me I was weird, and ran off to continue the game. I can't really blame him.

Around that same time, I was watching television with my mom. There was a man on a variety show answering questions from the audience. I remember thinking how amazing it would be to do something like that. Without missing a beat, my mom looked at me and said, "You're doing it." I didn't think much about it. I just carried on being a kid.

Even then, another pattern was showing up that I wouldn't recognize until much later. People trusted me. Even in public school, kids would tell me things they weren't sharing with anyone else — what was happening at home, what they were worried about, what they were struggling with. I didn't have to ask. They just seemed comfortable talking to me. Looking back, connection and trust have always been there.

When I was sixteen or seventeen, I went through what I now call my chrysalis stage. For almost a month, I was exhausted, barely eating, with very little energy. Doctors ran tests, found nothing wrong, and had no explanation. Then one day it was gone, just like that. I've since worked with many people developing their own psychic and spiritual abilities who go through something similar — a period where something shifts physically or energetically before things become clearer. I call it the chrysalis stage because it's exactly that: a caterpillar preparing to become a butterfly.

One of the first experiences that really caught my attention as a developing psychic medium happened in my early twenties. I worked with a woman named Jean who always wore her hair in a way that covered her ears. One day, I casually asked why she was embarrassed about the scar behind her ear. She immediately reached up to check her hair and asked how I knew it was there. I told her the only way I could explain it — I could see it. I also described a procedure she'd had shortly after birth to relieve pressure around her brain. Jean stared at me, then told me nobody knew about that except her parents. After that conversation, she told me I should be doing this professionally. I laughed and moved on with my day. Becoming a psychic medium wasn't exactly part of my career plan.

A few years later, life had another idea.

After moving to Kitchener, I asked a friend where he got his haircut and booked an appointment with a stylist named Aaron. Within the first minute, Aaron looked at me and said, "So you're a psychic. Tell me something."

I was absolutely mortified.

Very few people knew about my abilities, and I certainly wasn't introducing myself that way. After I shared a few things with him that I couldn't have known, Aaron was blown away. Then he made a suggestion that would end up changing my life — he invited me to come into the salon on Saturdays and offer short psychic readings to clients.

That's how my professional career as a psychic medium started. Not through a business plan. Not through advertising. It started because I went for a haircut.

From there, word of mouth took over. Clients told friends. Friends told family. Because Kitchener-Waterloo has a large university population, students started booking psychic readings and telling people back home — and before long, I was delivering readings for people far beyond my local area. Eventually, I realized I was making more money doing readings than I was at my regular job. I'm a practical person, so once that happened, the decision wasn't difficult. If this work was supporting me better than my nine-to-five, this was clearly where I was supposed to be.

More than 34 years later, I'm still doing what I love.

My guides still challenge me, still surprise me, and still put me on the spot. Sometimes they'll draw my attention to something that makes no sense to me — a glass of water, a random object, a strange symbol — and it's almost like they're saying, "Okay, Lewis, talk about that." Something comes out of my mouth that means nothing to me but everything to the person sitting across from me.

Spirit has a great sense of humour. At least they think they're funny.

After all these years, I'm still learning, still growing, and still grateful for every person who trusts me enough to share part of their journey with me.