Conscious Choice: A Gift of Psychic Powers

July 2004

A Gift of Psychic Powers

From unhappy cats and dying tigers to suffering human patients, her healing touch helps ease troubled souls

by Jeff Kelly Lowenstein

Lawrie Hollingsworth considered herself open to New Age philosophies, but didn’t believe in pet psychics until she met Noreen McCluskey. A distraught Hollingsworth called McCluskey about her cats, who were urinating throughout her house, on the oriental carpet, wood flooring and personal items like clothing.

Within a few days, McCluskey called back, interacted with the cats using “distance (telepathic) communication” and conveyed to Hollingsworth why they were so out of sorts. Turns out a family member, who had been staying in her home, had been gravely ill and consequently died. This, according to McCluskey, left the family pets unhappy during the demanding transition. “If I may be so bold,” McCluskey said, “the cats were feeling pissed-off.”

Because of McCluskey’s phone intervention, Hollingsworth said her cats stopped the wayward urinating and became calm. “I never thought pet psychics were real,” Hollingsworth mused. “I very much changed my mind on that one.”

Hollingsworth also became convinced that McCluskey had talents for dealing with the human condition as well when she had sessions with the healer for massage and instruction in Reiki (a healing discipline that focuses on energy movement). She attributes her success in overcoming a lifelong struggle with insomnia to her work with McCluskey.

An Unusual Ability

Animated by a childhood love of animals and what she says is her ability to communicate with spirits, McCluskey has, since 1985, maintained a practice in Niles, Ill., where she helps animals as well as humans to heal through the use of massage. McCluskey grew up in River Forest, a middle child in an Irish Catholic family of eight kids. “In my earliest imaginings I was going to be a vet,” she said.

Beyond her affection for animals, McCluskey, as a child, discovered she also had an unusual ability to communicate with the souls of the dead. Although she deemed her abilities natural and normal, other people held a different view. She remembers breaking up a childhood sleepover by communicating with a friend’s dead mother, and telling the girl what her mother had said. “I know what I did was O.K., but I understand why they freaked out.”

After high school McCluskey attended (now-defunct) Mundelein College and Northern Illinois University, where she studied physical education and nutrition. But she became dissatisfied with those traditional academic offerings. In 1985, she heard a radio ad for the Chicago School of Massage Therapy and recalls walking through their door and saying to herself, “These are my people. I’m home.”

During her time as a student, which included training in Swedish massage, reflexology and shiatsu (a traditional hands-on Japanese healing therapy), she started The Butterfly Tree, her healing practice. She considered including a butterfly in her business name because of the transformation she hoped to bring about in her clients through her work with them. The insect’s wings reminded her of an ear and of the heart’s chambers. While contemplating her decision, a monarch butterfly landed on her forearm, making her choice clear. She’s been practicing ever since.

For McCluskey, massage is more than a tactile experience. “The body never forgets,” she said, adding that her goal is to help clients arrive at their “truth, the Universal Truth.” While working on her clients’ bodies, she said she often receives images, “an ongoing movie, streaming video from the patient’s life that she is unsure about sharing. “I am moved to say, ‘Is this something this person needs to know?’” She often prays to be guided to the right answer and emphasizes long-term relationships with her clients.

Her answers have worked for Joe Zefran, who’s been coming to see her for at least 15 years. “I’m addicted,” said Zefran. “I’m just able to get so relaxed; my body gets so in balance.” He explained that McCluskey noticed during several massages that his colon area did not appear healthy. He subsequently went to a doctor, discovered that he had cancer and eventually had surgery. After the operation, McCluskey’s massages helped him regain his strength, he said.

Zefran added that McCluskey’s contribution to his health goes beyond massage. “She may hit spots I hadn’t recognized were tense. That’s a good lesson in terms of recognizing what’s going on with my life.” Following a massage, he and McCluskey occasionally discuss the images she picks up while working on his body. “I also like the fact that not only does she do traditional massage, but she also brings in Reiki and uses different scents in the oil; she adds aromatherapy to different parts of the body,” Zefran said. “I come away not only feeling good, but smelling good.”

The Healer Heals Herself

McCluskey operates her business on a sliding fee scale, varying her charges depending on the client’s financial situation and the number of people or animals she is treating. She has treated dogs, cows, horses and even a whale since she opened The Butterfly Tree. In 1999, McCluskey worked on Kieshia, a Siberian tiger that was dying at Valley of the Kings Sanctuary in Sharon, Wis. McCluskey said she communicated with the tiger before she met her, and acknowledged to the cat that she was scared when she entered the cage. “It’s all about ministering to the dying,” said McCluskey, who did reflexology work on the tiger’s feet to ease her pain. “It’s where you, as the practitioner, commit to being as serene as possible so that you’re available to the soul that’s dying. Kieshia was very gracious.”

McCluskey kept busy with house visits and caring for animals, but in 2001 she suffered an incapacitating condition. “I was bald, bleeding and couldn’t think,” she said. “I was fainting on the street.” McCluskey believes her sickness was caused in part by exposure to tetrachloroethylene, also known as “perc,” a toxic chemical emitted from a dry cleaning plant near her apartment.

Her convalescence took a full year, during which time she applied to herself the healing tools she had acquired over the previous two decades. She also focused on writing short stories, which feature characters from her experiences. She also credits her work with animals for helping her recover. “One of the reasons why I survived was because of the kind, open and nonjudgmental way that animals accepted me when we worked together.”

Now teaching students and healing animals and people, while writing as much as she can, McCluskey marvels at the different experiences available to those people who open themselves to the possibilities. “We’re all connected,” she says. “There’s so much. It’s like a banquet.”

Jeff Kelly Lowenstein is an Evanston-based writer whose talks with animals are limited to “good dog!”

Get More Info
Noreen McCluskey, The Butterfly Tree, P.O. Box 48652, Niles, Ill. 60714, 847-612-4677

Hooved Animal Rescue & Protection Society, www.harpsonline.org.

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