Telepathic Animal Communication Specialist Sharon Loy

What if you could know what your animal friends are thinking and feeling? Telepathic communication for animals. Finding solutions and embracing clarity.

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Jun 22 2020

The Sad Horse in the Sierra Nevada Mountains

The Sad Horse

People sometimes ask me, “Do animals know that you can do this, and do they come up to you out of the blue wanting to talk?”

Yes, they know. They recognize an awakened quality in me. An openness to them, and a receptivity.

Whether it is a black lab passing me on a hiking trail with his person trailing behind, a horse at a barn, or a koala bear at a zoo, they often give me a knowing look, or feel comfortable coming closer to me for a friendly hello.

They sense a light in my heart, and an availability not only to care, but to fully understand what they are experiencing and what they are consciously, purposefully telling me.

But they generally don’t accost me with requests to translate for them and their person.

Or come up to me and start pouring out their hearts to me.

But there have been a few exceptions.

One of these exceptions happened when I was on a road trip a few years ago, passing through the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. I came upon a very sad, upset horse. Or I guess she came upon me.

I was driving from Northern California back home to Arizona, on my way back from a meditation retreat. I always find a way to drive down Highway 395. Mono Lake and the Inyo National Forest are sacred territory to me. I feel so alive weaving my way through mountain passes with the windows down, the road curving along the edge of post-card-picturesque rocky streams, and then into stretches of open, arid, hilly land. And then back again into the tall pine forests. So beautiful.

But it’s a total food desert. There are no decent places to eat along the way, only gas stations and sometimes-open diners in tiny, empty towns.

So I pack a lunch from a grocery store in Reno, Nevada, and plan to pull over on the side of the road somewhere interesting and sit there in my red pickup truck and eat.

On one of these trips, I chose to have my lunch along a lovely stretch of highway where there were gorgeous mountains on one side, and fields with cows and a few horses on both sides of the road.

Sierra Nevada

As I was sitting in the driver’s seat, taking the first bites of my vegetarian sushi, I felt that eerie feeling we all know. Someone was staring at me.

It was a horse, from way over there! Across the two-lane highway and across a huge field. She was a tiny dot in my line of sight from where I was on the side of the road.

I turned my attention back to my sushi. Maybe I was just imagining this.

But within one or two minutes, she was up at the edge of the fence, her gaze fixed on me.

Obviously she wanted to talk.

“Really?” I wondered.

A few seconds later I thought to myself, “I can’t ignore this horse. She clearly has something to say.”

So I set my sushi on the passenger seat and got out of my truck, walked across the highway, fumbled through the tall-weed-covered ditch on the opposite side of the road, and walked up to the fence where she was still waiting. Still staring.

I touched her nose, gently petting her. She let me.

By this time, all kinds of cows were gathering around, and another horse, a gelding who had a sweet disposition but was not quite as sharp as this mare, came closer as well.

My mind was still surprised, and I didn’t know what to expect. But in my heart, I could feel this horse had a story she needed to tell.

So I opened my heart and listened, made myself ready to receive her experience.

Right away, she showed me an image of a dark black steer lying on the ground on his side. Obviously sick.

“He takes care of things here. He was my friend. He was a leader and the others looked up to him.”

She showed me an image of a gun, and a man using it to kill the suffering cow.

“I don’t understand this. My cow friend could have gotten better. The man did not understand. He could have gotten better. He was my friend and we all depended on him, he was the smartest and wisest and most noble of the cows.

“I am so mad at our person, he doesn’t appreciate his cows, what they do for him. He thinks they don’t understand anything but they do. They know what they provide for him. They give to him. I want him to respect the cows. Appreciate them for what they give him. They know why they are here.

“And I want my friend back. We were friends, looking out for the herd together. He was sick but he could have healed. Our person did not understand this, and he didn’t give him time to heal. Now he is gone and I am sick with grief.”

I stood there with her, just listening. There was nothing I could do to solve her problem. I couldn’t make her friend come back alive. I couldn’t go and talk to her person. And she wasn’t asking me to talk to her person.

And I can’t imagine that scenario anyway. Not only would it be unethical and incredibly rude, but they might think I am a lunatic and have me arrested for trespassing.

Even communicating with his horse without his permission was questionable in the ethics department, in my opinion.

But there was a higher good needing to happen here. This intelligent and compassionate mare was very upset, and needed someone to listen.

So I continued to listen.

In the next minutes there, standing in the grass up next to the fence, my new horse friend didn’t say much more that was different. I could feel the same feelings and thoughts rumbling around inside her heart and mind.

Around that time, I started to notice the hearts of the other beings who had gathered, the cows and the other horse, together with hers and mine.

They created a little gathering of warmth and curiosity. I could feel each of them having their own experience of the situation.

“Why is this human caring about us?”

“How did our smart horse friend know that this lady could talk to us?”

“What will this lady do? We are sad and we miss our friend.”

I continued to be present with the horse from across the fence. Feeling her grief with her. Just being there. Occasionally petting her nose.

After a few more minutes of this, it was clear I had done all I could do. And by this time the chestnut mare seemed a bit relieved. Someone understood. A human being understood.

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Beautiful Mare. I am sorry this happened. You are a special being.” I sent these feeling-thoughts to her, and then told her it was time for me to leave, showing her an image of me getting back in my red truck.

Then I turned around and slowly walked back across the ditch and then onto the street and got into my truck.

As I turned on the ignition and headed on down Highway 395, I saw the cows and two horses watch me leave and each slowly start to wander back out into their field.

My grandmother had a saying, “A problem shared is a problem halved.”

We humans think we have to fix everything for another being when they are in pain. It is great if we can, but sometimes deeply-present listening is a precious gift all on its own. It is a kind of grace.

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Written by Sharon Loy · Categorized: Inspiring Stories

May 16 2020

The Gift of the Present

It is a strange and beautiful time right now.

There are all these tragic things happening, people getting sick and losing their jobs.

And while it’s only a percentage of us who are directly affected, all of us are rearranging our lives. The usual commitments in our calendars – travel plans, work commitments, social engagements, haircuts (haha) – are no longer there, holding the narrative of our lives in place, reflecting back to us our sense of ourselves.

What’s more, the ways we insulate ourselves with familiar routines have been stripped away, and there’s this empty space and time. And just underneath, a silence. And stillness.

Even for people whose work continues, things feel different. In the background of our lives, there is this eerie, and somewhat awakening feeling of calm, mixed in with all of the change and uncertainty.

Can you feel it? I notice it just driving around, fewer cars on the road, and also when talking to friends, sharing about how our lives are different, how our routines have been affected. [Read more…]

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Written by Sharon Loy · Categorized: Inspiring Stories

Nov 21 2017

Telepathy is Compassion Cultivated

Telepathy, “feeling across a distance,” is really a form of compassion, “feeling with or suffering with another being.”

Telepathy is compassion that is exercised, cultivated, refined, sharpened, made specific.  

In telepathic communication you start by using your heart, your body, your mind, your whole being, to be deeply present to another being’s experience.  

When an animal feels you connecting with them compassionately, they open up to you.  In this open flow of connection between two beings, you can then each consciously send and receive images, feelings, thoughts, and sensory perceptions back and forth to each other.

And by the way it works with humans as well, as we are animals too :-).

This process is nothing short of magic, and profoundly healing.

This is because telepathic connection with another being is a way into the experience of Universal Love—a force that is woven into the very fabric of Life itself.

 

Universal Love Unites Us All

I feel this thread of Universal Love in all the work I do with people and animals, but it is especially strong with my international clients. 

In the first minutes on Skype with an international client, I can right away get a sense of the cultural layer in each of us.

Recently with a client in Japan, and her interpreter, I noticed the polite and reserved qualities of the Japanese way of being, and then in contrast I noticed my more animated and enthusiastic way, that is so very American.

But as soon as the interpreter began translating what I was sharing on behalf of my lovely client’s two dogs, the animals’ voices, and the experience of their love was the biggest presence in the space.  

And the cultural differences dropped away.

The dogs each shared about their unique personalities (very different) and favorite activities around the house.

Raizo, a handsome Burmese Mountain dog, shared about what a strong and confident protector he is, and how he loves when people on walks admire his especially shiny fur (very true his person said).  Getting older now, he also shared specific things about his health issues and answered my client’s questions about what was hurting him where, and how she could better support him in his old age.  He shared his feelings about his eventual passing, his sadness and his desire to still be present in Spirit for his person after he leaves his body.

Biwa, a beautiful little Beagle dog, shared how she LOVES being a show dog and it made her so proud to serve her family in this way.  She said she doesn’t mind spending time with the trainer at all.  It is fun!  She also confided that, while she is not ready yet, she looks forward to someday retiring and having a closer connection with her people day-to-day.  She said she will be more mature then.

With openness, innocence, devotion, and sincerity, they each shared how they love their people and their lives with them.

As I translated for these dogs, I remember feeling very connected to my client and to the interpreter, in contrast to the sense of separateness from cultural differences at the beginning of the call.  There were no divisions there; we were all basking in the individual cuteness and unique beauty of each dog’s presence.

 

Reawakening Our Telepathic Ability is a Global Phenomenon

I now have clients on all 7 continents (yes, Antarctica too!).

All over the world, the sense of separateness among different beings is falling away, and people are acknowledging the depth and beauty of their friendships with beings of other species. 

And, by doing this, they are opening more and more to this greater principle of Universal Love, a principle that unites all living things.

While animals are not enlightened beings (they have pain too, and are subject to jealousy and cruelty just like human animals), the relative clarity of their minds and purity of their hearts make it easier for them to shine their light, and in this way, shine these principles of Universal Love and the Inherent Beauty of All Life.

We humans can do this too, we have just forgotten! These essential truths are so clear in us when we are children, but they get buried under complicated belief systems and emotional complexities as we age.

Now more than ever, we humans need to connect back to this pure light inside ourselves—the part of us that knows how to open our hearts to love and appreciates the simple and profound joy of being alive.  

Isn’t it so surprising, we can find access to our deepest, truest selves through the presence reflected in the eyes of creatures of other species.

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Written by Sharon Loy · Categorized: Inspiring Stories

Nov 15 2017

Jericho Knows That His Species Is Going Extinct

In one of my Beginner Program courses, I take a group of students to a local wildlife park so they can practice their newly reclaimed telepathic ability with the animals there.

Beautiful things happen.

Pilgrim the Giraffe

In a recent class, a giraffe named Pilgrim licked two of my students on the face—big kisses of gratitude for their open-hearted listening and compassion.

We had been standing at the side of his enclosure for about 30 minutes, just being present and listening to him share about his life. His heart was heavy about a variety of things (it’s not easy being a giraffe in captivity, even though this place is top notch).

Then after a while he turned around and walked back into the distance when he felt the conversation was complete. We weren’t sure why, but it felt important to stay there and let him know we were still there if he wanted to share more.

We waited about 5 or 10 minutes, and then he peeked his head over the trees, and said, “You’re still here?!?”

It was as if our sticking around showed him that we really cared. So then he made his way back over to the fence, where he promptly reached down and gave a big wet messy giraffe kiss on the face to two of my students, Dianne and Connie. It was so clear that he was grateful to have some people there who could understand his experience deeply, and who showed him that they care.

Chipa the Hyena

On that same visit, a hyena named Chipa purposefully came out of her nap time to meet us. She knew that we could communicate with animals and she said she had a message she wanted to share.

Have you ever seen a hyena up close? Their jaws are huge and their predatory power and intensity are so palpable. The staff has told us that they are the only animals at the park who actually still bite the handlers there.

Chipa walked up to the fence, and looking straight at us, she sent the thought, “I am misjudged by humans. I have a heart too.”

Then she turned and walked back to her den to continue with her day.

Kibo the Giraffe

Another giraffe, Kibo, is quite out-going. He always comes over to the fence to say hi, right up to the edge so my students and I can touch his nose.

But last time, he did something really astonishing.

We were all standing there being present with him and listening to him share about his life, then he told me that he wanted to talk only to one of my students, Randi, a woman from Canada.

I told her this, and then he promptly turned toward her and looked her straight in the eyes, for about 3 or 4 minutes. Neither of them moved. We could all tell there was a profound connection happening, and something beautiful passed between them in the silence.

Then it got even more amazing.

He turned to another student, and did the same, for about 4 minutes or so.

Then he turned to ME, and I responded to him telepathically, “I am the teacher here, it’s ok, you can help my students instead.” But Kibo disagreed. And so he held eye contact with me, too. For several minutes I felt a warmth build in my heart—literally. It felt healing.

And one by one, he connected with each of my students in this way.

About the time he was with the last student, a bus from the park drove up in the area inside his enclosure. It was full of children, with a park guide on a bull-horn, and they had carrots dangling out of the window.

But Kibo didn’t move. He stayed with us for another couple of minutes, while the park employee was loudly calling him over, and puzzling over why he wasn’t coming.

At last, he said goodbye to our group, and dutifully turned and walked toward the bus with the man with the bull-horn and the children with carrots. We could all feel his fatigue, and his sadness to leave the connection with the people who were so fully present with him.

Jericho the Rhinoceros

Jericho is so lonely.  

Every time I take a group to the wildlife park, he shows every student how he longs for a family—a mate, little babies, brothers and sisters, friends of his own species.  He shows us a memory of being in the wild with others of his species.  Flashes of being a little baby rhinoceros in the wild, and he was all alone, knowing something had happened to his mother.  And then being sold into human captivity.

But there are some factual problems with his story.

First of all, Jericho was born into captivity, so he has never known what it is like to live in the wild with his own kind, nor to be captured and sold into captivity.

Second, scientists tell us that rhinoceroses are not herd animals, they are solitary beings, and very territorial, especially the males.

So why would Jericho show my students the same longing for family, and the same story of torture and betrayal by humans, over and over again now, for over 4 years of visiting the wildlife park?

As an animal telepath, I don’t sit around and come up with theories.  When I want to know something, I ask an animal.  So I asked Jericho.

He said that he knows what is happening with his kind.  He knows that his species is going extinct.

How is this possible?  Jericho feels the truth of his species’ situation in his cells, in his DNA, from his connection to the rhinoceros collective unconscious, even from his own past life memories, and from his own capacity to telepathically perceive what is happening with other rhinos in other parts of the world (animals do this, it is not uncommon). 

And it is making him insane with grief.

The staff at the park confirmed that he came to them from Bush Gardens, in Florida, where he was causing problems because of destructive fits of rage.  The owners of his current wildlife park purchased him to try to give him a better life.

Jericho has told us that he likes this home better; the humans try to understand him more. And his environment is calmer, and he likes that.

But he is still deeply lonely for his family, for connection with other rhinos and a normal life in the wild.

The last time I visited Jericho with my group of students, he was sitting out in the open, within view of the fence, waiting for us.

We gathered up to the edge and extended our hearts to him, opening up to feel his experience.

He was so sad.

He shared again his longing, and his knowing that what he wants will never happen for him. We asked if having another rhinoceros here, at the wildlife park, would help. He said maybe.

He then showed us images of rhinoceroses in the wild. And a sense of pride in his species. Their beauty and strength, their devotedness to each other.

Several of us were tearing up at this point, and honestly, I am again as I write this.

Around that time, as if to add insult to injury, a park patron walked by behind us, saying to his son, “Look, that rhinoceros is really lazy. He’s just sitting there, not moving at all.”

At that point, I knew that something needed to shift.

I asked each of my students to speak out loud a message to Jericho. He needed to feel our support. He needed to hear that we understand and that we are concerned for him and for his species.

One student shared, “I am so sorry for the behavior of my species, Jericho. That they don’t see your beauty and their greed has caused this. I am so sorry.”

And another, “Jericho you are beautiful and your strength and love for your family should be seen and honored. I wish you could have the life you want, and I will pray for you and your species.”

And finally, I shared:  “I will fight for you Jericho. This is wrong and human beings need to wake up to their own cruelty and find ways to live from their compassion. I love you and you have touched my heart.”

And immediately after the last one of us shared, much to our surprise, Jericho got up.

He looked up at us. He seemed lighter. He walked around. He even took his horn and moved the giant tire-toy in his enclosure, that he had been lying next to. 

Feeling a tiny ray of hope again, he walked along into the brush. We followed along the edge of the enclosure for as long as we could see him, still sending him our love and our concern for him. His gratitude was so obvious; he seemed to have a spring in his step now. After a few minutes he disappeared into the foliage.

Kumba the Lioness

Not all of the animals at the park are sad. 

Yes, it is hard for them to live an artificial life in captivity, where many of their natural wants and needs must be put aside. Some of them have a harder time of this than others.

But they understand that they are sacrificing a life in the wild to entertain and educate humans.

Some of them have shared that they feel this is an important mission, and their sacrifice can help all animals on the planet.

Kumba is one such being. She is a lioness at the park, and last year in one of my courses, she came up to the edge of her enclosure and sat down to have a really long conversation with me. All the while my students just listened, and held the space as I translated what she shared.

 

Kumba said she oversees things here at the wildlife park, she is one of the animals who is in charge. She sends out news to all the other animals telepathically, and helps them understand why they are here, what their purpose is here.

Kumba showed me a deep understanding that this life in captivity is not easy for many animals. But they are cared for and have an important mission, and this is what matters.

She said she understands me, and what I am doing. She said she wants to help me understand about how to hold true power, and that I should consider her a lifelong friend. She said my “cubs” (read: my students) hold promise, and that there will be many more of them.

About this time, a child in the distance let out a big shriek.

Kumba sent me the thought, “I really can’t stand human children.” And then the lioness continued on, showing me ways that I can improve myself as a leader-being.

But then the child and her mother, seeing Kumba up so close to the fence, came right over to see her. After about 10 seconds, Kumba turned her head to the child and let out a roar/snarl/bark noise that made us all jump a little. The little girl said something like, “What does that mean, mommy?” And not wasting any time, the mother took her daughter’s hand and said, “This lioness doesn’t want us here,” and moved on.

My students and I were amazed, taking in this whole experience. Not only had this lioness shared some powerful messages for me, but she just then demonstrated for us all the very thing she had communicated telepathically just moments ago.

Since that communication, I always check in now telepathically with Kumba before I take students to the park. I ask her how we can be of most service to the animals there, and which animals can really benefit from our communication with them. And she always gives us a list, and these animals are always expecting us when we arrive. It is so amazing and beautiful.

The Bigger Picture

We share this planet with other nations of beings—not just whales and lions and zebras, but Pitt Bulls and feral cats and factory farm pigs. They are all unique living beings, with their own perspectives, and deserve to be understood.

Animals are going extinct on our planet now at a faster rate than any time in history since the dinosaurs. Now more than ever, communicating with animals is important work. But we humans have forgotten how to speak the universal language of telepathy that unites us all.

We have so much to learn from animals. We need to understand their experience, we need to extend our compassion to them, and we need to allow them to heal us.

And more than anything, we need to help our fellow humans value other animals’ right to exist on this beautiful planet, as much as we value our own right to be here.

Please join me in this movement, and learn how to reawaken your own telepathic ability, so that you can be one of the humans who understands animals’ perspectives and translates for the rest of humanity, just what is at stake.

This work can heal us all, as it will open us up into the larger fabric of love that connects all living things.  

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Written by Matt Schaefer · Categorized: Inspiring Stories, Learn Telepathy, The Big Picture

Jul 13 2017

Why animals know some things and not others

A client named Melissa emailed to ask this question recently after her dog, Banjo, died.

When she came home from the vet, and did not return with Banjo, she told her other two dogs Molly and Big Joe, that Banjo was now in the spirit world.

Melissa said Molly just looked at her, with a direct and loving stare. “It was as if she already knew. How did she know? And how much about his passing did she understand?”

 

How do animals know?

It can be confusing. Our animal friends seem to understand certain things, like now we are going to the park, or it’s time for the people to go on vacation. But then other things, wow, how do they miss that? Like, how utterly disruptive to your life it is when they wake you up before dawn or how life-threatening it is to be off-leash.

Rupert Sheldrake, a British scientist who has devoted his entire professional life to studying telepathy, wrote a book entitled, “Dogs who know when their owners are coming home.” He set up video cameras, and found that dogs uncannily knew when their people were on their way home, even when their schedule was random.

Like Molly, animals understand so much about our lives—our schedules, our plans, our deepest feelings and desires.

So how is this possible? What is the substance of telepathic communication? And why do they get some things and not others?

I am not a scientist, so I would sound a little ridiculous offering big theories of quantum physics and all that.

But as a professional telepathic translator for more than a decade, I do know something about this. I know that it has to do with love.

 

Love connects us to others.

When we love someone, when we care, we know things about them. Unexplainably.

Where there is love, there is opening, connection, feeling, caring, and deeper understanding.

And as the saying goes, “Where there is love, there is God.”

When we love another being, we get out of our minds, and we experience life from the bigger parts of ourselves—our hearts, our bodies, our whole being—the parts of us that connect into the beauty and divinity of all of Life.

And from this pure place inside, on any ordinary day, we can know things about others in the world around us that we can’t explain.

Anyone who has loved another being deeply can attest to this.

Molly saw her friend’s health was failing. She saw how her person’s heart was breaking over yet ANOTHER death in a string of losses over the past few years. She saw how this pain was affecting the whole family.

Through her love and caring for her family, Molly naturally understood all of these things. And it was obvious in her loving stare, when Melissa shared the news of Banjo’s passing.

 

But what about when certain details get missed?

Often, animals in a family will know when one of their friends haven’t understood something and will have telepathic conversations among themselves. In a communication with Melissa’s dogs, Banjo showed me that he had been preparing his friends, Big Joe and Molly, for his passing.

He had been sending images, sensations from his body, and knowings to his dog friends that his time was close. And he had been asking his friends to take over his jobs, especially to be present for Grant, Melissa’s husband, who was especially close with Banjo.

He was such a noble, strong and sincere fellow, that Banjo.

The world of telepathic communication is mysterious and beautiful and so simple, all at once. Maybe the best part of it all is that when you learn animal telepathy, when you reconnect to this world of knowing inside yourself, you come to appreciate the beings you love on a whole new level.

I hope to see you soon in a Basic 1 course in Sedona.

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Written by Sharon Loy · Categorized: Inspiring Stories

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