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Psychic Medium

My name is Marc, though my family and friends affectionately call me Marco, Marcus, Marky, or Jade—whatever suits their fancy, I'm cool with it. My parents, Danielle and Roger, are now retired and still reside in the house where I grew up in Embrun. My younger sister Chantal, who also possesses abilities but chooses not to use them, is a teacher and thoroughly enjoys it. I also have a nephew and niece, Owen and Makayla. We make it a point to gather at my parents' house for Sunday dinners, a cherished tradition that brings us all together. I deeply cherish my family.

Now, I'll be the first to admit, I'm no saint, but I do recognize the power of my voice, and I'm grateful for having learned how to wield it. If someone had told me as a child that one of my purposes in life was to use my abilities to help the world, I would have likely begged them not to put such a burden on me, fearing ridicule and mockery. Throughout most of my school years, I felt like the odd one out, the perennial outcast in any social circle. Above all, I felt like I belonged to a different era altogether. I struggled to find my place, unable to connect with my peers. However, put me at a table with a group of adults, and I was all ears, eager to engage and learn.

I used to be quite shy and nervous, always on edge and glancing over my shoulder. During road trips, I gained a reputation as the kid in the back seat who would insist my parents missed our turn, only to surprise them by being correct. There were also unsettling moments, like being roused from sleep with a sense of not being alone, only to find an old man peering down at me. I don't mean to alarm anyone, but on a few occasions, I woke up to find a group of people gathered around my bed, staring at me as if I were lying in a coffin.

My birthday falls on January 16, and like many, I thought my sweet sixteen would be a lucky year. Unfortunately, it turned out to be quite the opposite. Between sixteen and seventeen, I fell into a deep depression, and I made six attempts to end my life. The last time, I reached a point where I saw the light and felt ready to let go.

I've been told it was a brutal period, but I don't recall any of it.

I recall a particular moment vividly. I saw the light and walked toward it. It was a breathtaking sight—so serene and beautiful. There, I saw my late grandfather and my great grandmother patiently waiting in his old car, the one he used to own back in the day. He sat behind the wheel, and my great grandmother occupied the backseat. The front seat appeared empty, so naturally, I assumed it was meant for me, thinking they had come to pick me up.

However, amidst this surreal scene, my mother's voice echoed from the white light, urging me to wake up and return.


At that moment, my grandfather spoke to me with a sense of urgency, saying, "Go back, Marc. This is not your time; people need you." I found it hard to believe him and voiced my doubts, questioning why there was an empty seat if I was supposed to return.

In response, my grandfather paused before explaining, "It's for someone else, but we can't tell you who it is." This only heightened my curiosity, and I pressed further, asking if this person was currently alive but destined to pass soon.

With a grave expression, he replied, "Marc, we won't ask you to go back again. It's an order." My great grandmother remained silent in the backseat throughout this exchange.

Despite their warnings, my stubborn nature prevailed, and I reached for the passenger door handle. However, before I could open it, my grandfather's tone changed abruptly. He exclaimed, "Marc, THAT'S IT," clapping his hands together so loudly it felt like a balloon had popped. And in an instant, the scene shifted.

As I opened my eyes, I initially saw my grandfather's face hovering above mine, but it quickly transformed into my mother's. It took a moment to register that I had seen my grandfather through my mother—it made sense, as he was her father, after all.

A day or two later, as I lay in the hospital bed, I caught sight of my grandfather's spirit standing at the foot of my bed, giving me a thumbs-up and saying, "You may not see it now, but you're destined for great importance. Many people will need you." With that, he vanished, and I drifted back to sleep.

Remember the empty front seat in the car? Well, a couple of years later, the person they had reserved it for turned out to be my aunt Johanne, who sadly passed away from cancer. I find solace in knowing that she, along with the others, is now at peace.

As I matured, I discovered ways to explore and understand my abilities, gradually learning how to harness and control them. I recall reconnecting with my best friend Nat, who also possesses these gifts; together, we exchanged knowledge and honed our skills. Even now, we continue to support each other's growth. For me, the most effective approach to mastering these abilities was through consistent practice whenever possible. Over time, I developed my own unique style, recognizing that every gifted individual has their own distinct talents and ways of expression

I always understood these three things, I see, hear and feel and when the connection is correct, somehow each message is blurred out of my mouth – yet I won’t know what they all mean. My spiritual guides always need to remind me that I am a Messenger, not a translator.  

As a psychic, I read to people in this physical world, I read their soul and missions, I guide them with their life paths and teach them how to connect with themselves spiritually. I am also known to be very great at predicting newborns and when they will be conceived and enter this physical world. As a medium, it’s all regarding the spiritual world, connecting with them and delivering their messages to those that need them. I rarely remember readings after they are complete because none of them are filtered in my head, just like an extension cord, once I unplug both sides, the shop is closed.


My abilities have their controversy, I am certainly no fool. This spiritual stuff is not everyone’s cup of tea, and I completely respect that. It is why I choose to focus on the good that I do and the spiritual healing that I provide to those in need, it’s the only way.

Anytime I need a quick boost I remind myself of this quote “How a person thinks of me is none of my business.”  

Fast forward to 2024, it's incredible to think that I've already amassed over 20 years of experience sharing my abilities with the world.

Over the years, I've had the privilege of making numerous radio and television appearances, as well as participating in fifty Center Stage events at the National Women's Show in Ottawa, Toronto, Montreal, and Quebec since 2008. Throughout my journey, I've made it a priority to give back, with half of the proceeds from most of my own public events going to various charities.

It's surreal to think that the simple act of delivering 400 yellow flyers door to door on a rainy day in my hometown played a part in bringing me to where I am today. As long as I draw breath, I'm committed to continuing this fulfilling vocation.

To all those I've encountered along this journey, both in the physical world and beyond, I extend my heartfelt gratitude. Thank you.

Marc Jade

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