Pulling the Thread: What happens if I activate my psychic abilities and take them into Australia's most haunted places?

I'm bored.

And if there is anything in life that couldn't be more dangerous for me, it's boredom.

I think what I really need in my life is a little mischief. Something unpredictable. Something that makes me curious. Something that gives me a story to tell afterwards.

Historically, I haven't always been particularly discerning about where I source my mischief. These days, however, I have responsibilities.

The times when I've self-destructed in the name of mischief? Too many to count.

And I am so grateful to be pregnant. I really, truly am. But getting here has been... a lot.

All the energy, time and emotion invested into IVF. That rollercoaster has stopped, and I'm now on the next ride. The gentle, nourishing, incubating-a-new-life phase. Kinda like a merry-go-round, where every day I’m in awe of this little person growing inside me and I get to ride the candy-striped unicorn, but also: this ride goes for a whole nine months.

Of no sashimi. No whisky. No tipsy, deep-and-meaningful whispers over a bar table. No extreme adventures. No holidays to Zika-ridden tropical islands.

But self-destruction isn't an option anymore. I have two little girls to think about. Slowly withering away into a despondent state similar to canines at the RSPCA isn't an option for me either.

I have time. An unusual amount of flexible time.

So I think it might be time to hit the road in our Subaru with my toddler Lark in tow.

And do what?

There's a thread that's recently piqued my interest like a traffic spike on Google Analytics. And I want to pull it.

You may recall, at a conference, I sat next to a podcast host who interviews psychic mediums. Curious, after listening to an episode, I booked a session with a psychic so I could chat to my grandma, who I've long believed is watching over me as a guardian angel. (I also think my best friend Dora is a guardian angel sent to Earth to care for me, but that's a whole other story.)

That session was revealing in so many ways, but one offer has stayed in the back of my mind: the psychic offered to teach me how to open up my own psychic ability.

Three hours. How to protect myself. How to meet my spirit guide and guardian angels. How to deliberately see, feel and hear.

So what did I do yesterday?

Pulled on the thread. I have a session with him on Tuesday.

Let's see if the jumper falls apart. Or if it reveals a fabulous secondary outfit underneath.

Because I have a question.

What happens if I learn how to use psychic abilities and then take them into some of Australia's most haunted places?

I genuinely don't know.

But I've had enough unusual experiences to be curious. I've lived in a haunted cottage, roamed the haunted halls of Tulloch Castle in Scotland, and been scolded by a ghost at a coachman's cottage.

At the very least, I'll get to meander around some old buildings with Lark and inject a little harmless mischief back into my life.

But you never know what might happen when you pull on a thread.

Let's find out.

More real life stories for the Boo Crew