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Mind reading activation seed to create the neurological hard wiring to read and redirect mind wave patterns directly into the clairvoyant systems to know peoples thoughts
Mind reading. It is a thing and some people have themselves dialed in. It is an ability which is akin to Claircognizance (AKA direct knowing). Since we as beings are a big antenna, the nervous system, if developed and proper neurological systems developed, can tap into and pick up specifically the 3.5-7.5Hz range of the minds operational frequency. Either being near that person or from afar. Those signals are read by your various systems of Clairs and then routed to the memory, and poof, you know or heard what someone thought about you. If you have this ability, along with some other Clairs, deception upon you is but a past time misfortune which will rarely pass you again. Each clair is picking up different data forms and passing them to you.
The Jedi Wizard uses 4 main methods for seed to mind reading function activation, along with a push/force “switch” .
The first is a metaphysical command, the second is done through atomic/scalar programming, the 3rd through virtual energetic embedded supplements and 4th is you getting 2 specific supplements to take. Results do depend from person to person. If you have “blocks”, they will be found and dealt with. The booking includes future timeline auto adjustments to re-do the 3 methods into the future to boost the programs for further propping up. In 90 days you will be entitled to a consult follow up call and 1 more manual session to “fine tune” the final touches. You will receive a projection to 90% abilities timetable. It could be 180 days, it could be 360+, however results will be increasing gradually.
NOTE: You will also be assessed beforehand if any of the other clairvoyance activation services will actually be a prerequisite in order to properly and fully develop this ability. It depends on what abilities you have now and if they are enough faculty to base and support mind reading functions. What order of development is needed for you will be checked and drawn up in sequence which is specific for you.
In the heart of the rolling hills of Hobbsshire, a small village nestled between ancient woodlands and the misty moors of northern Scotland, there lived a man of great wisdom. His name was Osric, a quiet and mysterious figure, who had walked the paths of Hobbsshire for many years, though none could rightly say how old he truly was. His beard was long and silver, and his eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, seemed to pierce through the very soul of any who dared meet his gaze.
Tales of Osric’s strange abilities had long filled the tavern halls of the village. Some whispered that he could know a man’s heart simply by looking at him, while others said he had once stopped a war between two great clans by speaking only a single word. But what the folk of Hobbsshire did not know, what they could scarcely imagine, was that Osric’s true gift lay in his mind—he possessed the ancient power of reading thoughts.
This power, known only to the great Wizards of the Old Soul, had been bestowed upon Osric in his youth by a mentor long forgotten to the mists of time. It was not a gift easily won, nor was it given lightly, for the secrets of the mind are a heavy burden to bear. The activation of such a power required more than mere skill; it demanded a heart unshaken by fear, a spirit bound to the ancient magic of the world, and a soul that had lived through many lifetimes.
One autumn eve, when the sun had dipped low beyond the hills, young Callum, a farmhand from the village, came to Osric’s cottage- which had a special name “Ormushire”. He had heard tales of the old man’s wisdom and sought guidance, for Callum was to be wed to a lass from the neighboring village, but doubts plagued his heart.
Osric welcomed the lad with a nod, gesturing for him to sit by the hearth. The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Callum sat in silence, unsure of how to speak his mind, but Osric’s eyes glimmered with understanding.
“Thou hast come with a troubled heart, young Callum,” said Osric in a voice as deep as the earth. “Thou seeketh answers that thy tongue cannot yet form.”
Callum blinked, startled. How could the old man know? He had not uttered a word. But before he could respond, Osric leaned closer, his piercing gaze fixing upon the lad. In that moment, something stirred in the air, a faint ripple, as if time itself paused for an instant.
Osric’s mind reached out, quiet and subtle, slipping into the thoughts of the young farmhand. He could hear the echoes of Callum’s worries—the fear that his betrothed did not truly love him, the uncertainty of his future, the whispers of doubt that haunted his every step. Osric sifted through these thoughts like a fisherman sorting his nets, gentle yet deliberate, seeking the root of the boy’s fear.
“Thou art not alone in thy doubts,” Osric said, his voice soft yet unwavering. “But know this, Callum—love is not free from fear, nor is it bound by certainty. Thy heart beats true, and so does hers.”
Callum gasped. He had not spoken a word of his inner turmoil, yet Osric had laid bare the very thoughts that gnawed at him in the quiet of the night. “How—how did ye know?” Callum stammered.
Osric leaned back, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “There are things in this world, young one, that cannot be spoken with words alone. I have lived long, and seen much. The thoughts of men are like the wind, if one knows how to listen.”
But Osric’s power was far more than merely sensing the thoughts of those who came to him for counsel. The old man could weave through the minds of an entire room, hearing each thought as if it were spoken aloud, and discerning truth from falsehood with ease. It was said that when the council of Hobbsshire gathered to make decisions of great importance, Osric could sway the minds of the most stubborn elders, not with words, but with the gentle nudge of a thought—a subtle suggestion, planted like a seed in their minds, which grew into conviction.
Osric’s mind-reading abilities were not without their dangers, however. Long ago, in his youth, when his powers first awakened, he had delved too deeply into the thoughts of another, a wicked man whose mind was twisted with hatred and malice. The darkness Osric had encountered nearly consumed him, and he had learned then that the minds of men were not all to be explored. Some thoughts were better left untouched.
Yet over the years, Osric had mastered this ancient craft, for it was not merely a skill, but a calling passed down by the great Wizards of Olden Soul—sages from the impenetrable domes who had lived many lives, their spirits intertwined with the very fabric of the world’s magic. They could unlock the mind’s secrets, not through force, but through the art of inner listening, of understanding the subtle currents of thought that flowed like rivers within every man and woman.
To activate such a gift required more than an ordinary mind. Osric had been chosen because his soul was old, ancient even, and his spirit had been tested in many lifetimes. His mentor, a Wizard of great renown, had guided him through the rituals, the chants whispered beneath the moon, does of tinctures of The Wise Wizards, the quiet meditations by the sacred groves of Hobbsshire. It was through these rites that Osric’s mind had been opened to the thoughts of others.
One night, as Osric sat by his hearth, a vision came to him—one of the great Wizards, robed in twilight, standing at the edge of the world. The time had come for Osric to pass his gift to another, as it had been passed to him so long ago. And so, in the quiet of that night, Osric smiled, knowing that somewhere, in the village or beyond, there was a young soul, an old soul in truth, waiting to be initiated.
And thus, the power of mind reading, bound to the great Wizards of the Old Soul, would continue, as it had since time immemorial, hidden in the mists and shadows of ancient lands like Hobbsshire.
