The Mirror Effect: An Intuitive Guide to Life, Love and Beyond

By Karina Lewis

The quiet of a perfect summer day in Montana is shattered by the sound of a bullet exploding from a gun. Suddenly, a random act of violence sends a shockwave of change into a quiet community, changing Karina's life forever. One that leaves a legacy. Shot in the head and left for dead, the author enters a state of universal consciousness where she is shown the secrets to life. She is sent back to Earth to share these insights. Born naturally psychic, the accident leaves her infinitely and cosmically connected, capable of knowing the exact words one needs to hear to improve one's relationships, connect to your higher self, and more. In her quest to listen to the guides she met on the "other side," she is able to aid success, increase abundance, and create emotional and financial freedom. But there's just one catch. She needs horses to do it. In this riveting and unique biography, join the thousands who have had Karina and horses connect them to their truths and lead them to a better understanding of self, miracles, and more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781643006918

Book preview

Chapter 1

You don’t go through a deep personal transformation without some kind of dark night of the soul.

—Sam Keen

Looking up, I could see the clear, vast blue sky canvassing the horizon in only the way that perfect weather can. It was clear and limitless, the omen of a perfect day. I sucked in the cool fall air and went back to mending the fence. Then blinking, I heard the click, click, click of a revolver being cocked. Turning, I saw, standing not ten feet in front of me, a disheveled man, his eyes wide and wild; and in his trembling outstretched arm, he held a pistol aimed at my head. The end of the barrel from my vantage point loomed large and ominous, and looking down the barrel, I imagined that this is what death must look like—black and dark and violent. In a split second, I knew I was going to die. In my head, I heard a warning to run, but my body wouldn’t respond. My legs felt like concrete, and I could hear my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

Bitch! I heard the man say, and then a string of other words followed, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying above the thump, thump, thumping of my heart. His shouted profanity sounded like gibberish, and even if he had not been holding a gun to my head, I would have known something was not right with him. His eyes burned wild and bright, lit by a crazed imagination. I had no idea where he had come from.

There was no time for me to react. This was all happening so fast! I did not want to, but I stood riveted, paralyzed by fear. I noticed his knuckles turn white as his grip tightened around the gun and waited for the gun to explode. Suddenly, my body began to tremble uncontrollably, and the movement frightened me. I wanted to be still. Still like a rabbit hunched motionless in a thicket.

Then the gun barked flames, and the bullet exploded from the barrel.

In that split second, I wanted to scream, but no sound would come. I wanted to run, but my feet would not move. I had never seen this man before. He had appeared, seemingly, from nowhere.

The force of the bullet slicing past my right temple sent a whoosh of air raising the hair on the side of my head, the clap of the gun’s report crashing into my eardrum. Another explosion, and in a split second, the day turned to night, sparklers of light bursting before my eyes. Then it was over. A senseless act of violence that would change my life forever. At the last moment, I remember the smell of the earth coming up to meet me as my body fell, its scent fresh and autumn-sweet from the decomposition of the cottonwood leaves and pine needles.

In the darkness that followed was a sense that I had been born a thousand years ago, and I had lived a thousand years. With that sensation came a rapid stream of hyperlucid thoughts and an awareness that I was meant for something purposeful.

I was not conscious when this reality struck, yet I had an intense awareness of all that I am and was to become. With this came a vision. I saw horses, dozens of them. Horses I had worked with throughout my life. The images moved through my consciousness like ghosts in the night—startling, vivid, and haunting.

Whiskey, a big curly haired sorrel gelding, snuffled softly as if to say thank you when, at last, he didn’t need to feel fear any longer.

Flame, a talented Arabian mare showing perfectly as an English hunter/jumper despite being labeled unmanageable, a throwaway just weeks before.

Mia, screaming for her missing foal Tesoro, her eyes fearful, the skin wrinkling above them in velvet-like folds. Her shrill screams echoed as if someone had taken her very soul from her. 

And T.J., her jaws dripping blood and her sides heaving, sweat and dirty white foam covering her once beautiful hide. She had been ridden to exhaustion, a spade bit turned upside down in the bridle to get her attention. The trauma had cut her mouth badly and permanently damaged her soft palate. She lost more than two hundred pounds before she could eat properly again.

Rapidly, the horses came. Many of them, each significant in their presence to deepen my well of knowledge about horses, myself, and humans. I stood in awe of their majesty and nobility as teachers to humans. The experience was profound as I realized how synergistic and parallel our worlds are.

With each flip of the mind’s eye movie, these horses somehow allowed me to recognize myself. Startlingly, I realized horses have the ability to help anyone recognize themselves! Together, they brought with them a message, a central theme that I could not ignore. The thought was impressed so strongly that one is to accept themselves and find life in contentment. Life was not to be lived in fear.

The traumatized horses I had worked with showed themselves to me in their purest forms, happy as horses, confused as mounts, yet comfortable in their own being, even when unaccepted by humans. With them, they brought their most intimate and intense emotions and enveloped me with them, encouraging me to forever banish fear and embrace their freedom of soul. As ethereal beings, they warmly embraced me and allowed me to breathe intoxicatingly of their grace. Their love was palpable, enviable.

In a moment, I realized how perfect they are and how dysfunctional humans are. That the power to reason is somehow not necessarily superior. Humans rarely choose unconditional acceptance. Instead, our species exercises calculated control and manipulations, even though we instinctively know that love can, in all things, conquer.

This visit, by these horses, impressed upon me that there is a divine appointment overseeing our lives and that, to be anything and everything, all you need is to do is believe in yourself. That the essence of being is a power that is encompassing and that, somehow, everything in the universe is connected. 

A buzzing accompanied this visit and in it was the knowledge that, somehow, there is an energy field that carries our communication to love and heal as well as to wound and harm. And a knowing that the latter is not the objective of why we are here on this earth.

After the shooting, I was impressed by the sincere fact that part of why we are here on this Earth is to, first, find our passion and, second, to master it. It is then up to our collective soul to decide if we should spread our gift to others.

As children, we are in touch with this magic force. We express our desires openly and plainly. For some, those passions are ignited and nurtured. For others, they are dampened.

It doesn’t matter where you are in life, whether you’ve found your passion or are just beginning to search for it, or even unaware that you have a passion. Our job is to discover a self-worth so deep that we become connected to this Higher Power.

This vision impressed me with the understanding there are layers to our enlightenment and that every human has a soul that is growing, learning, and evolving.

I was shown that this Higher Power connects us all and that this energy serves as a guide on our journey through life. It is the one thing besides death that each and every one of us has in common.

Unconsciously, my subconscious was building a bridge between my natural-born gifts and building a new profound awareness that my helping problematic horses was deeply connected to helping humans.

Working with problematic horses is my specialty. It was before the shooting and remains more strongly so after the shooting.

From a young age, I had a knack for communicating uncommonly well with horses. Horses that have been traumatized are particularly interesting to me. It doesn’t matter what problem they exhibit. I possess an unearthly ability to gain their trust and cooperation. It had always been this way.

As horse after horse passed through my mind in this extraordinary vision, I felt a kinship with their fear. And suddenly, I had the realization that it was this fear that was holding me back from fulfilling my life’s higher purpose. The infinite depth of this energy and its peaceful existence of just being created in me a sense of acceptance that was wholesome and all-knowing without judgment. It was peaceful and yet…

During this vision, I was asked whether or not I was satisfied. In the face of death, I answered there was so much more to accomplish, and no, I was not satisfied. A great sadness came and went, and for an instant, it was possible to see what was possible and what would remain if I did not choose to seize these gifts of knowledge being brought forth.

In rehabilitating horses, I communed with their spirits to reassure them that trusting me would not be detrimental. I loved them, and in return, they loved me back. This love in the relationship became the barometer. A dance between giving support and getting it. I became a leader when necessary, a follower when it wasn’t, to create a tangible balance between myself and the horse. I had always walked between these worlds. But, though I was impervious to doubt about my ability to provide a voice for the silent horse, I was not entirely comfortable about the task of educating humans. The ghost-horse messages were not that I had missed my calling, but that I was not resonating to my highest potential. I was missing the motivation to involve myself more with my life.

Somewhere in this message was an unbelievable knowledge that a true harmony exists. That the exchange of energy between the worlds is not only possible but so powerful that the depths of it have not yet been revealed.

In a swift moment, I realized that, as I treated the horses, so did I wish to be treated. That any pain I had suffered before was only a means for learning. I knew, in a split second, that my holding on to pain only inhibited me.

I felt free in my unconscious state, but this feeling did not last. I was aware I could not stay. A force was pushing me back into reality and I felt a strong sense of disappointment because, here, it was so perfect and peaceful. Time on the other side is limitless. This contrasted with knowing that time here is hard. But interestingly, I also had the sense that what we do with our time here has a bearing on how we spend our time there. The weight of that realization brought an urgency. A sense of complete and total change.

This was not an easy concept to embrace. Exhilarating were the thoughts of the possibility of what was to come but so was the knot of emotion in my throat as I realized I must lay down all that I knew and was familiar with.

I can’t recall just one thought that made me realize that what I’d been given was a privileged communication. It was the whole experience that resonated with my soul. An unending knowledge that I was not alone in this universe but, instead, connected to every living organism! The Earth was not as black and white as I thought. No. There was much, much more to it and I had not yet even begun to know its secrets! This was bigger than scientific explanation. There was a power, an energy that, while invisible, connected everything.

It was an earth-shattering moment for me. Especially since these thoughts and images were paralleled by the foreboding knowledge that, at the time, I knew I was dead.

Then, as quickly, an awakening, both for the soul and body. A jolting back to reality that was like breaking the surface of water after diving into its cold and murky depths. It was as if I was breaking from the deepest of sleep into an awareness of the most crisp of days.

Opening my eyes to the canopy of the August Montana forest was the most refreshing and exciting moment of my entire life. I do not know how long the experience lasted. It did not matter. I gasped for air and knew that what mattered most was what I decided to do with the rest of my life. I’d been given a second chance.

Chapter 2

For those who seek to understand it, death is a highly creative force.

—Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

Near-death experiences are well documented phenomenon. In a word, they are experiences that revolve around the realization that life is all at once precious and short and that death, in its transition, is somehow permanent, yet unrestricted. People who have experienced near-death experiences report that they become more altruistic, less materialistic, and more loving. With these experiences come the points of realization that affect people’s perceptions of life for the rest of their lives. Alcoholics may become less inclined, if not totally opposed, to imbibe, atheists give credence that there is a divine deity, and religious zealots give way to humanistic mannerisms. It is the suddenly severe and committed alteration of past behaviors that create the central theme for near-death experiences.

Dr. P.M.H. Atwater, who survived a near-death experience, has made NDEs (near-death experiences) a life study and concludes, after the study of three thousand two-hundred reported incidents, that there are common aspects that accompany near-death experiences. The most prevalent of these is an overwhelming feeling of love and experiencing a life review.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross wrote that For those who seek to understand it, death is a highly creative force.

As my experience turned from dreamlike to reality, I felt woozy and wonderful, all at the same time, like, somehow, I’d been privileged to experience this higher form of enlightenment. I was ecstatic while, at the same time, terrified, knowing that my chest was heaving high with each breath I was sucking in. Ecstatic and grateful for waking to see the clear blue sky of the most perfect day in the world and terrified that the man who shot me would still be there to finish me off.

Above me, the pine trees waved in the wind and I could see birds overhead. The sun was low, but soft and warm. And the pine needles beneath me were sweet and pungent, tinged by the ripe, fall air.

Moments before, I’d heard the click-click-click of a revolver being cocked. Or at least, I thought it was but a moment. The warm blood trickling down my cheek had not clotted so I was not sure how long I’d been unconscious. The gun, the roar of the blast, and then darkness, but now, tender light soaked my eyelids and I became aware of the slightest things. I swear I could hear the crunch of the caterpillar as it wrapped its jaws around a juicy leaf. And as I opened my eyes, aware that I was indeed alive, I marveled at the dance of the autumn colors upon the leaves. A soft wind blew that bowed the branches down as if they were kneeling in homage to a power greater than their own.

I had read about such moments. One woman shared that, in her state of vision, she had been shown an incredible display of organisms, micro in size, which danced regularly in their joy of praising life. That their ritual was not uncommon but wholly missed by the eyes of busy humans too wrapped up in surviving to see the abundance that life has to offer.

I was aware that my heart was still beating. Its rhythm beating in my ear and I was happy. For the first time in many years, I felt the warmth of contentment.

I remembered the man, his hair disheveled, eyes wild and that, in his trembling, outstretched arm, he had held a pistol aimed at my head. I had imagined death to be black and dark and violent. But it wasn’t. Somehow, it was peaceful. Where, before, my brain had told me to run, it now screamed to stay exactly where I was. As if to freeze in time the perfect nature of this blissful experience.

It was odd to feel so terrified and peaceful at the same time. So fearful, but deliriously happy. Somehow, despite the peace, I felt energized to live. But not as I had been living. Somewhere, hidden in what I’d experienced, was permission to live energetically and synergistically with all that I’d been created to achieve. There was no room for excuses if I wanted to grasp even a portion of what I’d been shown. But while I was initially energized by this experience, I was equally terrified.

The research has been exhaustive with survivors of near-death experiences and the results have been inconclusive that near-death experiences affect everyone the same. For instance, anyone can experience an NDE. Even children. It isn’t regulated to the followers of the purely religious and the aftereffects aren’t always positive. Some people report repeated bouts with depression while others lose ambition.

I experienced both.

After losing my life, then getting it back again, I felt a tremendous burden to both encourage and accept mankind while redefining my mode of communication with the world. This was particularly hard when coping with the cold sweats that came in the middle of the night as a result of the nightmares I had from the trauma of the shooting.

I could no longer look at things in the same way as I did before the shooting. I recognized myself as mortal but with greater clarity. That life doesn’t really end. This life we know is but an extension of another place.

This reality threw me into a state of timelessness. A desire to flow with the natural shifts of life while catering to the thrusts of ambitiousness I felt prior to the shooting.

The shooting ripped from me the ability to remain unaware and, instead, forced me to recognize the essence of my soul.

I struggled with past ideals I’d been taught. These ideals had become my life perceptions, reinforced through the acceptance of others or by discipline.

I had adopted these perceptions as right, even righteous. My subconscious processed the ability to judge others because by being right I was somehow elevated on a conscious plane above another.

But the horses in my vision reinforced that my life ideals were not shared. Horses did not judge. Rather, they just acquiesced naturally to their being. This really challenged me. The values I’d been taught in my Christian upbringing conflicted with the expansive realizations I’d been given in my near-death experience.

Some people believe that an NDE actually confirms the existence of God. That would have been nice for me, since the basis of a Christian life were the values my parent’s worked to impart. This would have been a great ending if I would have been allowed to believe everything I’d been taught, but this was not my experience. Instead, I came away with knowing that we’re governed by a higher power and that this deity is interpreted and thus, embraced (or not) individually.

I had never before been this exposed to anyone who questioned the existence of God, but this vision suggested that I accept even those who questioned my understanding of God.

I had observed many times when a new horse was introduced into a herd. The new horse would be initially greeted and, depending on the interpretation of the other horses already established as a herd, the new horse would adopt a certain acceptance that it remain outside of the herd for a time. Alone, that horse would take time alone, then, after an appropriate passage of time, be sheltered and nurtured by one of the herd members until it was initiated into the herd as a member.

Might humans be subject to the same universal law?

My exuberance to continue living life as I had been was dampened and so, as a result, introspection took over and challenged my very existence. Simple rules I had been taught as a just subscription to life gave way to examining my values.

This was tough because I had believed and stubbornly clung to the concrete values I’d been taught. Values I had learned that, when practiced, either allowed me to be accepted or, if ignored, came with the stiff penalty of being ostracized.

If I chose to follow the lesson that the horses who came to me offered, I faced rejection, failure and humiliation.

I was not unfamiliar with rejection, but this rejection would be different. To change, I would face the rejection of those I held dear. A betrayal of self I did not think I could bear, yet the horses in my vision were asking me to accept all others, and… believe in myself.

Gone were the walls of a belief system that had given me acceptance. To be an individual, wholly accepting of myself and others, I was also choosing to question the ideals I had been raised with.

Today, it isn’t a stretch for me to believe that a belief in ourselves and how we pass that forward matters. Or that individuality and how we use it to embrace ourselves and others matters, but at the time of the shooting, it was clear to me I would be rejecting some of the hard and fast truths I had been taught and thus, while flying high on enlightenment, I would be banished from my comfort zone for not conforming to the values of what was then my social support community.

This moment of truth was both refreshing and terrifying. I didn’t yet know who I was individually, let alone accept all others as individuals.

Nonetheless, I unequivocally embraced this belief and caused a difficult contradiction as those around me struggled to understand the changed me.

For me, I was conditioned as a Christian and all measures of life were wrapped in biblical teaching. I still find these teachings relevant but look differently at them now than I did then.

As Christ taught others to love, my social interaction was that I was only accepted so long as I subscribed and verbalized my intent to be a Christian. This meant regurgitating scripture, attending church, and finding value for appearing sinless.

Yet my higher self had been awakened, and I knew that the vision of the horses was metaphorical. And powerful.

Who was I as an individual? There was so much to explore and understand and then I was to explore and accept others in kind? This revelation made my head spin.

As a child, I had suffered molestations, rape, and betrayal. As an adult, more of the same. It was a heady experience to wrap my mind around this concept of… forgiveness. Yet the experience was so powerful, so freeing, I could not fight within myself to deny the messages.

I longed to reach out with this newfound knowledge and be accepted for it, but those close to me continued on their paths of known truths, leaving me to struggle with why it was difficult for them to understand my new manner of being. I think they struggled with their own fear that, should they too shed their protective armor to be naked in the face of truth, they too would risk the powerlessness that comes from being raw and open to the processes of enlightenment. I understood none of this, the wound from the bullet too new and unfamiliar. Its damage was not physical. It was emotional.

I felt misunderstood, frustrated, and unable to articulate the powerful shift that bullet had forced to occur inside of me.

Scientist Dr. Raymond Moody outlines that people experiencing a near-death experience in such tragic ways often have difficulty expressing the emotions that surface and the shifts that can occur after a NDE.

After my own near-death experience, my family and loved ones struggled to understand the new me, especially as I found my work with horses increasing in its effectiveness due to a particularly welcome side effect—a heightened psychic awareness. It had always been there, but now, it was awakened, alive to lead and teach me. I had always had a tangible ability for perceiving things hidden from traditional senses and an uncommon gift for communicating with horses, but because of the NDE, I found it easier to do the same with a person. Because I loved horses so much, this heightened ability effectively worked as an intoxicant. I couldn’t get enough of working with horses and their owners, exploring each scenario like a spelunker loves hiking. Like an addict, I spent hours with them which, in turn, put significant stress on my relationships. The time I spent encouraging my power had an equally disenchanting effect of lessening the quality of my own relationships. I was in tune with my own awakening, powered by the surge I felt