Wait, What Was the Question Again?

Why Specific Questions Matter in Readings (and When Asking for a Sign)

You know how people say “there’s no such thing as a stupid question”?

Okay sure… but in tarot readings or when you’re asking the Universe for a sign — vague questions will get you vague answers.

I’ve seen this so many times!

Clients come in and say:

“I wanna know about my relationship.”

And I’m like, okay… but what about your relationship? Are you wondering if it’s the right one? If they’re cheating? If it’s time to move on?

Because the more specific your question, the more specific the answer. That’s how this works.

Same with the Universe. If you ask for “a sign,” but you don’t say what sign or what decision it’s tied to… don’t be surprised if everything suddenly feels like a “maybe.” It’s not that Spirit is playing games. It’s that you haven’t drawn the map.

So What Happens When You’re Vague?

In my experience?

Your reading becomes general advice instead of the clarity you were hoping for.

Don’t get me wrong — you’ll still get messages. But instead of zooming in on what’s really on your heart, the reading stays on the surface. It’s like Spirit is gently trying to say, “We can help you, but we need you to meet us halfway.”

Let me give you an example:

Compare this:

“Will I get married?”

With:

“What’s blocking me from building a committed relationship?”

The first question gives you a yes or no — which, let’s be honest, is not always useful on its own. The second question?

It actually opens up a conversation. It looks at what’s getting in the way. It helps you take action.

If You Don’t Know How to Ask — It’s Okay

Some clients feel nervous or don’t know what to ask. That’s totally fine!

If you come to me with just a feeling — like something’s off, or heavy, or confusing — I’ll help you find the question. We’ll shape it together.

Because the truth is, asking the right question is already half the healing. It’s you finally being honest with yourself. It’s you saying, “Okay, I’m ready to look at this.”

Let’s Talk Signs — and When They Get Mixed Up

Asking for signs from the Universe works the same way.

You’ve got to be specific. Crystal clear.

One time, I was in a full-on “I NEED ANSWERS” meltdown moment, and I said to my guides:

“Okay. If this is the right path for me, make my Grab car tomorrow red. And let it be an Axia.”

Now, that’s specific.

I didn’t check the app obsessively. I didn’t look for red cars all day.

I just waited.

The next day? The Grab car was the reddest Axia you could imagine. I was spooked. I said thank you, shook a little, and moved on.

That’s how signs work.

You ask clearly.

You wait.

You don’t go looking for signs everywhere hoping to force an answer. That’s just anxiety wearing a spiritual hat.

A Funny (and Very Real) Lesson on Asking Right

Okay, here’s one I’ll never forget:

I was at a funfair. I really wanted a big, fluffy octopus plushie — like the size of my torso kind of big.

So I told my guides,

“Please let me win the blue octopus plushie.”

And guess what?

I won it.

But… it was only slightly bigger than my palm.

Not quite the giant cuddle buddy I had in mind. I burst out laughing.

I was grateful — a win is still a win — but I also realised: I wasn’t specific enough.

Did I say I wanted the big blue octopus plushie? Nope.

I just said blue octopus. And Spirit delivered.

Lesson learned.

This altar is yours too!

Proof I wasn’t kidding 😂 This was the exact blue octopus I got — slightly bigger than my palm. Just divine humour (and excellent aim, apparently)

The Weirdest Things That Have Ever Happened During a Reading.

Real stories from behind the veil at Phoenix Medusa

There are sessions that are soft, gentle, and quietly affirming.

And then… there are the ones that make me (and my clients) sit up and say, “Wait — what just happened?”

People sometimes assume readings are just cards and guesses. But if you’ve ever had a proper session — where energy is honored and spirit is present — you’ll know the moments I’m about to talk about aren’t accidents.

They’re revelations.

Let me take you behind the scenes — not for drama, but to show you the invisible threads Spirit sometimes weaves right before our eyes.

The Accident That Wasn’t

This one didn’t even happen during a reading — it was just a moment. A gut feeling. My friend was about to leave my house after hanging out. Nothing unusual. But the moment the door closed behind them, I had this awful, sinking feeling. The kind that doesn’t go away.

Before I could even text them, there was a knock on the door again — they had forgotten their car keys. I told them to sit down for a bit before leaving again. “Just wait, I don’t feel good about this.” They looked at me and said, “You know what? I feel the same.”

Five minutes passed. They left. I said a quiet prayer.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzed. A string of messages. The first few were full of gibberish — I thought my friend was having a stroke. But then a clearer message came through: they had almost gotten into a fatal accident. The other driver didn’t make it. If they hadn’t left their keys — if they had left just a few minutes earlier — they would’ve been in that exact spot.

I don’t say this to sound mystical. I say it because your gut knows things. And yes — sometimes the superstitions are real. Tripping before you leave the house. Forgetting something. The spirits talk. We just forget how to listen.

The Words I Shouldn’t Say (But Did)

Anyone who knows me knows this: mulut masin. My words manifest — so I’m extra careful. But sometimes, the words just slip out before I can stop them.

Once, I randomly asked someone I was close to, “Are you cheating on your husband?” I didn’t have proof. I wasn’t even doing a reading. It just came out. The person looked at me like I had slapped them. A few months later? It turned out to be true.

Another time, I told a client during a reading to post something oddly specific on Instagram — something I didn’t even understand. The next week, they found out the person they were trying to attract had just been to a training on that exact thing. Spirit knows what it’s doing, even when I don’t.

When Spirits Show Up Uninvited

Yes — spirits come through even when I don’t “call” them. Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s not.

For the low vibrational ones? I open the door and tell them to leave. If they linger, I cleanse like my life depends on it — because sometimes, it really does.

But the higher beings? Their presence feels… warm. Safe. Yesterday, a client’s guides showed up at my studio beforethe client arrived. I felt them before I even started setting up. My ear started ringing — that’s always the sign they’re ready to talk. “Oh Hi!” I said out loud. And they just waited there, patient and kind, until it was time.

I know how weird this sounds. But weird is my normal.

When the Client Comes Back Months Later… and Says “You Were Right”

This one hurts, because it involved heartbreak.

A client once got really upset when I mentioned that there might be someone else interfering in her relationship. She didn’t believe it — and I respected that. My job isn’t to force anyone to accept what they’re not ready for. So I let it go.

Months passed. Almost a year later, she came back — this time for an in-person session. “You were right,” she said, holding back tears. “He was planning a wedding with someone else.”

Sometimes, I wish the cards were wrong. But they rarely are.

When Even I Need to Pause

There are readings where the energy comes through so clearly, so loudly, that even I need to stop and breathe. It’s not always gentle. Spirit doesn’t always coddle us. I’ve had my own guides tell me, “What did you expect?” and then go silent when I ignored their messages. They love us, yes — but they don’t play.

Sometimes during sessions, if you see me stutter or go quiet? That’s not confusion. That’s me trying to translate a wave of insight that just came through too fast for my brain..

This work isn’t just about getting it right. It’s about building trust. Letting go. Learning to listen to your gut, your guides, and what’s unspoken.

What All This Taught Me

Guides, guardians, and ancestors… they don’t miss. They never miss.

If there’s one message I want to share through these stories, it’s this: don’t underestimate the relationship you have with your Spirit team. Whether you know it or not, they are protecting you, guiding you, warning you. Pushing you gently (or not so gently) when it’s time to act.

And your ancestors? They are fierce protectors especially if you honor them. They chose you for a reason. You are the continuation of their work.

You don’t need to book a reading to access this wisdom. Learn to trust your gut. Pay attention to the dreams. Light the candle. Ask for a sign.

But if you ever need clarity, you know where to find me.

This altar — Phoenix Medusa — is open. And if you’ve made it here, this altar is yours too.

Before the Fire: How I Became Phoenix Medusa

Trigger Warning: Mentions of depression, spiritual crisis, and suicide attempt.

I won’t sugarcoat it — before Phoenix Medusa, I was miserable.

It’s not a chapter I’m proud of, but it’s part of my story. Every “villain origin” has one, right? Just look at Medusa. I had just left my job as a flight attendant during COVID, and everything felt like it was falling apart. I had energy, talent, and drive — but no direction. The job market was dead, and I was slipping deeper into sadness and self-doubt.

Out of desperation, I reached out to my old manager — the one I left behind when I took the flight attendant job. I basically begged her to take me back as a part-timer in retail as a makeup artist. I’ll never forget the pity in people’s eyes when they heard I used to be a flight attendant. That look haunted me. It stung in places I didn’t know were still raw. I even used my last RM20 to attend a job interview and guess what ? I got rejected. Some moments in life just stick with you.

Eventually, I got the part-time job. I worked my ass off (obviously), and they offered me a full-time position. All the while, quietly and slowly, I was building Phoenix Medusa behind the scenes — though back then, it wasn’t called that yet. It started as Chandelles Soy Wax Candles. A name I hid behind: Chandelles Soy Wax Candles. Because I was embarrassed. I didn’t want people to know I had… abilities. That I could feel things, see things. That I wasn’t “normal.”

And apparently when you’re depressed, you attract a lot of things. Including spirits.

Not exactly the ideal combo when you’re already struggling with your identity.

I hated it. I hated being sensitive. I hated hearing and knowing things I didn’t ask for. I just wanted to be like everyone else. But considering both my parents’ bloodlines are full of healers… I guess that wasn’t in the cards for me. (see what I did there? hehe)

The Turning Point

I met someone — I won’t name her — but she gave me the push I needed to pick up tarot cards. She taught me, and though we didn’t see eye to eye ethically, she served a purpose. I believe the universe placed her in my path just to redirect me. Once she did, it pulled her away.

From there, I started building my own relationship with the cards — in my own way. I took a break from readings and focused on candles. But something inside kept nudging me: Come back. Try again. This time, do it your way. I’m not kidding sometimes I would just stare at the cards for like 30 mins.

I’ve always had spiritual exposure — my late aunt was a healer, my great-grandmother too. My mom still tells stories of her grandmother helping hundreds. My sister is gifted, and so is my mom. But only the women seem to carry this fire. I used to think I was cursed by it. But now, I carry it like a torch.

Even now, it’s still a mystery to me why I chose tarot — or maybe the cards chose me. Out of all the spiritual tools, all the modalities, this one kept calling. And recently, while doing a reading for an ancient shamanic healer, she suddenly told me, ,

“Your hands are gifted. Be careful who you reach out to.”

It was a small moment, but something in me clicked. Like the universe just handed me a missing puzzle piece.

Becoming the High Priestess (Slowly)

I didn’t dive into rituals immediately. I knew better than to play with energies I didn’t fully understand. I read for friends, and eventually for myself. Some of the cards I didn’t even know the meaning of — yet the messages still came through. Intuitively. Clearly. I’ve always known things before they happened. It’s just been a part of me.

Still, confidence didn’t come easy. But something in me knew I had to put myself out there. I still had my full-time job and was building Phoenix Medusa at night. No social life, just work and readings.

I remember a colleague once told me,

“Your life sounds so boring.”

I laughed. But yeah — it stung.

Because from the outside, maybe it did look boring. I wasn’t posting flashy content, or out every weekend. I was just quietly breaking generational cycles, burning herbs at night, talking to spirits I didn’t fully understand, and trying to survive one day at a time.

It didn’t look glamorous. But it was real. And it was saving me.

Then, on February 19th, 2021, I officially renamed my business: Phoenix Medusa House of Crafts.

It felt like claiming something ancient. I started reading for people outside my circle — strangers. It was nerve-wracking, but freeing. That was the beginning of this path.

What Phoenix Medusa Means Now

Phoenix Medusa Houses of Crafts is a sanctuary. A place for the misfits, the heartbroken, the ones who feel like they don’t belong. I didn’t have anyone holding my hand through this path — no shade to my family — but I had to build this space myself. I built it for people like me.

Here, you won’t be judged. You can ask the real questions — the hard ones. Life is brutal sometimes, and this is a space where you can rest before rising again.

I’m strict with my terms and boundaries because this path is sacred. I’ve had friends who told me I’d fail. That no one would trust me. That it was “just a phase.” Some of those people were readers themselves. And now? They’re in the past — and I’m still here, still rising.

Not everyone who finds Phoenix Medusa is ready. Some come hoping I’ll say what they want to hear — and lash out when I don’t. Trust me, I don’t enjoy being the bearer of bad news. But I took an oath to speak the truth. To pass on what I see, what I hear. That’s why I’m tough on ethics. That’s why I cleanse like it’s nobody’s business.

And despite everything I’ve built, I’ve always kept learning. Over the years, I’ve taken short courses, studied different healing paths, and stayed curious. Recently, that curiosity led me to something deeper — I’ve officially stepped into the path of shamanism. I’m now apprenticing under a shaman, and this journey feels like another doorway that’s been waiting for me all along. I don’t know exactly where it’s leading, but it feels ancient, familiar, and right.

A Word to Those in the Dark

If I could go back to that version of myself — the girl who cried in the shower, who begged for a part-time job, who used her last RM20 to chase a job she didn’t get — I wouldn’t say anything.

I’d just hug her tightly. She deserved so. much more than what she had to deal with.

I’ve attempted suicide before. And I’m so, so grateful it was just an attempt.

Now, when I hold space for clients, I see fragments of myself in so many of you. You may not believe this, but I pray for my clients. I cry after sessions sometimes (yes, dramatic I know lol). But I truly, deeply want the best for you.

Not just success. Not just love.

But Inner peace.

That’s why this is called Phoenix Medusa: House of Crafts.

This is the house of rebirth. The house where you rewrite your story.

You don’t have to do it alone.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading this.

Whether you’re in the ashes or mid-rise, I see you.

This altar is yours too.

With love & fire,

Salini

Founder of Phoenix Medusa