As it feels like the whole world is grieving, spiritualism is thriving. But can we really connect with those we have lost? Or is the industry preying on our vulnerability? Eight years on from losing her dad, Jessica Davis finds out…
It’s not until I approach the house that I wonder what the hell I’m doing. The street is suburban calm, the leafy green trees dancing in the breeze. Inside, my stomach twists and turns. I take a breath and open the iron gate, before ringing the doorbell. ‘Come in,’ he says, leading me to his front room. We’ve never met before, but he feels strangely comforting, with a soft buttery voice and a stillness that makes me forget about what could happen next. I study his face for a reason to recognise him, but I can’t find one. ‘You look so much like your father,’ he says, knowing how much those words will mean to me. But he has never met my father. Not really. And there are no photographs of my dad in this whitewashed room with creaky wooden f loorboards. This man knows nothing of my family, or my past. Yet he also seems to know everything. How?
Turning to a medium for answers, as I have, is becoming increasingly common. Spiritualism, the religion that is based on the belief that the spirits of the dead exist and want to communicate with us, is booming right now. There are more than 300 spiritualist churches in the UK, and the Spiritualists’ National Union has seen a surge of interest since the pandemic began – in the first month of 2020’s spring lockdown, applications for membership increased by 325%. On TikTok, @kendallthemedium does ‘collective readings’ for her 890k followers and counting, while @chrisrileypsychic posts tarot readings on his Instagram page (he counts various Love Islanders and reality TV stars as clients). I’ve long been interested in spiritualism as a practice and have found it – in the past – to be incredibly helpful in guiding me through tough times. I lost my dad at 18 and not a day goes by when I don’t think of him, and all the parts of my life he is missing. Spiritualism tells me he’s still here, in a way, and thinking of that has helped me through some of my toughest moments.
So I really do understand why spiritualism is appealing to so many right now – at the time of writing, more than six million people worldwide have died from Covid, on top of other more ‘usual’ causes of death. With so many of us mourning loved ones, it’s easy to see spiritualism’s appeal and its ability to provide a sense of comfort and control during one of the most uncontrollable times in history. But from the outset, spiritualism has had both sceptics and frauds who – some say – take advantage of those grieving when they’re at their very weakest. And, even if we can have access to our lost loved ones, is it healthy to keep visiting them through a medium? Or does it s
