Psychic uses names to learn about customers

What’s in a name?

For professional psychic Rebecca Bartlett, the name is just the beginning.

When her clients cross the threshold of her quaint upstairs office in Nashville, Ind., she asks them to slide out of their shoes and get comfortable. An afghan quilt is draped over the cream-colored sofa that beckons curious visitors to take a seat. The decorative pillows add an extra layer of comfort.

Bartlett grabs two waters from a small hutch tucked away in the corner of her office, a simple room decorated with five modest paintings and a few side tables and chairs. She flips the switch on her globe-shaped CD player. A tranquil tune fills the room. The water is hydration for the soul, and the music is relaxation for the mind.

She eases into the deep brown wooden rocking chair positioned directly across from the cream couch, her painted pink toes tapping the carpet. Grabbing a clipboard from her side table, she pulls out a pen and asks her first question.

“Can you say your name out loud for me?” she said.

She writes it down on the small sheet of wide-ruled lined paper on her clipboard and lightly traces the letters with the tips of her fingers. The process begins.

“I just get a name and start describing,” she said.

Bartlett has been working for five years as a professional psychic, but she has been making predictions since she was 16. Now in her early 40s, Bartlett has learned to harness her abilities for what she hopes is the greater good.

She has an office in Nashville and returned to Bloomington this February after a brief leave of absence. She contemplated returning to her home state of California, but changed her mind. She wanted to make travel more convenient for Bloomington residents, who make up about half of her clientele. Her new office is in the Fountain Square Mall, where she said she always keeps a vase of fresh roses.

Her sessions cost between $100 and $300 per hour.

“I don’t want your money until I’m done,” she said. “Everything I get comes through me, not from me.”

Visitors won’t find any tarot cards lying around Bartlett’s office, and she doesn’t wear a headscarf or rub a crystal ball. Her goal is not to entertain her clients. She wants to help them.

“There is a life saving benefit to this,” she said. “This is not entertainment. It goes way beyond that.”

During her sessions she conducts a body scan, in which she asks the client to completely relax and close his or her eyes. She snaps her fingers and waves her hands in space around the client’s body, listing possible medical conditions or abnormalities she senses. But she doesn’t diagnose or heal — she just describes symptoms and leaves the rest to science and medicine.

“It is more scientific for me, but the results that are achieved are absolutely
spiritual,” she said.

For the past three years, Bartlett has been writing a book about her personal journey, explaining how she has battled the negative stereotypes that taint her profession and the critics that mock her gift.

“I have no choice in the matter. I was born this way,” she said. “For me, it’s more of a mission to aid humanity and solve the world’s mysteries than end up on Montel. I don’t tell people what I do when I meet them. Usually I just say I am a counselor or life coach.”

She said when she first gained awareness of her abilities, she would have bouts of déjà vu and dream about natural and man-made disasters that would come true, usually within three days. They were in places she had never heard of involving people she did not know.

She couldn’t ignore them, and even though she tried to obtain a degree at IU and occupy other jobs in the work force, she could never shake the urge to share her predictions. So she decided to turn her ability into her occupation.

“With the proper training, receptivity and concentration, everybody can learn to pay more attention to their own self purposes,” she said. “Some people have said this is a gift. For me, it is both a gift and an ability.”

But she said it can be a burden, too — one that takes a great toll on her both mentally and physically.

“It’s an intense mental exertion,” she said. “It’s like studying for a final exam in a subject you don’t enjoy.”

Because of this, she averages about one and a half clients per day. She makes a modest living, but she said she is OK with that. She isn’t in it for the money.

“I still stick to myself,” she said. “There is a certain justice that underlies this occupation. You can think of me as a witness to unveiling key events.”