The Kookaburra Who Needed a Translator: Geraint Seren on What Your Animals Are Really Doing For You

Somewhere in the countryside north of Melbourne there's an old oak tree, and in front of it, a man sitting in silence long enough that the local birdlife got curious. . .

The kookaburra came down first. He was chirping away, very insistent, very vocal and Geraint, who has been able to hear animals since he was a child, couldn't understand a word of it. So he asked for help. And out of nowhere a tiny bird landed, looked at him, looked at the kookaburra, and the two of them began talking to each other. The little one turned back to Geraint: he doesn't know what you're saying. You tell me, I'll tell him.

That went on for ten minutes. A translation service, provided free, by two birds, for a human sitting under a tree. What the kookaburra wanted him to know was that he was the guardian of that land — that he'd nested there for years, and he was curious why this human kept coming back to pay attention to it.

We could have talked to Geraint about animals for the whole two hours, honestly. Kebrasca and I were holding ourselves back the entire time.

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But the thing that stopped us both — the thing I haven't stopped thinking about since — was what he said about our pets. "Generally animals don't have health issues," he told us. "They take on ours." Our cat has been having sore stomachs. She's skittish, she guards her energy, and there are only three people in the world she truly trusts. We've been going back and forth about whether to take her to the vet, and quietly saying to each other: I bet she's just taken on our stuff again.

Geraint's answer was so simple it almost hurt. Acknowledge it. Literally say to them: thank you for taking this on board, I really appreciate your love and your care — and you don't need to carry it anymore, I've got this. That acknowledgement, he says, is a huge part of the healing itself. Then move the energy off them with some Reiki or hands-on work, and be ready, because what usually follows is a very big wee, a very big poo, or a purge. Ask us how we know.

There's a whole world of this. The dogs who wander over to him in cafés, turn their backs to him for a quick energy clearing and then trot back to owners who never even noticed they'd gone. The dog who jumped onto his client's lap mid-tarot-reading to tell on her — she's full of crap, she's not dealing with this, please tell her I know — while the woman sat there insisting none of it was true. The horse who was guardian of her paddock and couldn't settle because an angry neighbour was hacking down dead trees at the far fence line. And his own dog, who when asked whether she remembered a past life, said yes — she was a fish. Which is why she loves chasing them now and has no interest in catching them.

The second half of the conversation goes somewhere else entirely. Geraint clears houses, properties and land right across Australia, and he does it with permission — real permission, granted through Aboriginal cultural protocol after an elder appeared in his shamanic drum and told him he'd have to stop unless he went to Uluru to be seen, then came to Alice Springs. He went. He sat in the Todd River with the men. He was given a skin name. And he describes now being recognised anywhere on this land — an acknowledgement he once received from an elder walking with a group of teenage boys in northern WA, entirely without words, just eyes meeting across a slow-moving car.

What he does with that permission is heavy work. In Perth he was called to a family being terrified by a male presence, and what he found outside the house was a trench full of the bodies of hundreds of Aboriginal people, and the gravedigger still walking the property looking for more. In Camberwell he was called to a fast food shop where the staff were too frightened to work, and an Aboriginal woman came to him and showed him her husband and children being shot and her clan hunted down, and told him: we are angry, we are making it known, but we need to move on. He cleared the land. Within four days the staff were happy and their sales were up thirty percent. Not because the trauma was erased — because everyone, seen and unseen, was finally free to move.

And through all of it, Geraint stays remarkably unimpressed with himself. He was taught early that the shaman is the one in the room who doesn't announce themselves — the quiet one, observing everything. In an industry drifting toward look-at-me, that landed on both of us. He won't even let himself be called a tarot reader or a medium, because his guides told him labels would box his energy in. So when someone books him, he simply says: we'll start with the cards, but I do everything, so let's just go for a joint journey.

For anyone wanting to deepen their own intuition, his advice is disarmingly practical: spend a day in question and answer with spirit. Ask for something specific — the car park directly outside the shop, on the same side of the street, at twelve o'clock — and then watch. He tested it in Fremantle looking for a shirt between thirty and ninety dollars, went into all the expensive shops, found nothing, and was told: you've forgotten one shop. The op shop. The shirt was exactly what he wanted. Thirty dollars.

Kebrasca and I both read for Geraint at the end, and what came through was the same picture from two directions: this man is about to step out from behind the one-on-one work and into his own events, his own stage, his own people — and then out across the water. I saw spiritual sites in the UK, rock formations, the fairies moving around him. Kebrasca saw the pebble already thrown here in Australia and the next stone landing in another pond entirely. Giants and dragons, from the smallest fairy to the biggest footprint. And Geraint just sat there and said: I've got overseas travel booked for next year.

Of course he does.

Ngā mihi, Geraint. Thank you for sharing your world with ours.

Find Geraint on Instagram, Facebook and TikTok — his website is on its way, and we'll share it here when it lands. He'll be reading at Mind Body Spirit Festival in Sydney this October. Book a reading with Amber at glowbyamber.com or explore Kebrasca's healing work at kebrascaking.com. #creativetalk is live every Thursday at 5PM AEST — where consciousness meets commerce.

Lightly edited for readability. #creativetalk with Amber & Kebrasca King, featuring Geraint Seren.

[01:57] What we've been up to A big couple of weeks — media and PR for Open Summit, one of Australia's biggest AI and robotics events at Sydney Town Hall. Sunrise on Channel 7 with Lumi the kung fu robot, Sky News, radio, and a whole lot of conversation about where AI is heading. Plus Mind Body Spirit Festival is back in Sydney in October, at ICC Darling Harbour.

[06:32] The cat knows She came in the moment we started talking about animal communication, as if she'd read the run sheet. Which, as it turns out, she pretty much had.

[10:34] It started with the animals Geraint could hear animals as a child — telepathically, both ways. Dogs in a London park who played a game of tag with him where they'd think about which direction they were running before they ran, and then couldn't work out how he always knew.

[12:32] The kookaburra who needed a translator Sitting in front of an oak tree north of Melbourne, unable to understand a very insistent kookaburra, until a tiny bird arrived and translated between them for ten minutes. The kookaburra was the guardian of that land, and simply curious why a human kept coming back.

[17:19] Why your animal takes on your stuff The heart of the episode. Animals are sentient beings who dumb themselves down around humans who treat them as pets — and who take on our energy when they're our companions. Generally, Geraint says, animals don't have health issues; they take on ours. What to say to release them, and what tends to happen next.

[29:06] The dog who told on his owner Mid-reading, a small dog leapt onto his client's lap and let rip: she's full of crap, she's not dealing with it, she's unhappy and I want her to be happy — please tell her I know. She denied every word. She came back a fortnight later just to say hello.

[37:17] Animals and past lives Yes, they cross over — including the blue heeler who told Geraint they'd been brothers in a human life and had come back to remind him how to relate to his own brother. And his own dog, who remembers being a fish.

[46:00] Land clearing across Australia How house clearing deepened into land work, the spider in the corner who held all the information, and what actually disturbs a property — usually renovations, sometimes portals, often entities that drain the household, especially the children.

[49:32] Permission, and being seen An elder appeared in Geraint's shamanic drum and told him he needed full permission to go deeper: go to Uluru and be seen, then come to Alice Springs. He went. Sat in the Todd River with the men, spent weeks working with spirit on the land, and was given permission and a skin name. He describes being recognised anywhere on this country since — including a wordless acknowledgement from an elder in northern WA.

[54:12] Perth, and the trench Called in by a family disturbed by a male presence, he found a mass grave outside and the gravedigger still walking the property. He cleared it. The children sleep now. And a two-year-old helped him place the crystals.

[57:33] Camberwell A fast food shop where staff were too frightened to work. An Aboriginal woman showed him her family being killed and her clan hunted. "We're angry, and we're making it known — but we need to move on." He cleared the land. Four days later the staff were happy and sales were up thirty percent.

[1:13:37] What being a shamanic practitioner actually means Remembrance rather than training. Initiation into a portion of Australian Indigenous shamanic understanding — only a portion, respectfully. Remembering a life as an Aboriginal man on the east coast in the 1700s. And the shamanic path as constant conversation: know nothing, to be able to receive everything.

[1:19:02] The quiet one in the room The shaman doesn't announce themselves. In an industry drifting toward spectacle and ego, Geraint's teacher's advice stands out: you don't say it, you just are it.

[1:36:14] Be specific with spirit The car park test, the shirt in Fremantle, and why manifesting works better when you can already feel yourself in the shop.

[1:43:06] What's coming up Weekly Zoom energy clearings — half an hour, themed, $50 or $180 for four weeks, and the clearing reaches you even if you can't attend live. Plus a monthly ANIMAL clearing where you can bring your pet onto the call or simply hold up a photo. We're signing up for that one.

[1:46:39] What our cat wanted us to know She's been imitating Kebrasca's son's little victory dance. She finds it joyful, and it's a great leg stretch. We had no idea.

[1:51:14] A reading for Geraint Both of us read for him: his own events, his own stage, his own people then out across the water to spiritual sites in the UK, with the fairies, the giants and the dragons alongside him. He then told us he has overseas travel booked for next year.

Watch or listen to our full conversation with Geraint Seren on #creativetalk  on YouTube, Spotify and all podcast platforms.

This episode discusses colonial massacres and their ongoing impact on Country. We share it with respect for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of the lands on which this work takes place.

Tags: #animalcommunication #petpsychic #shamanic #landclearing #mediumship #Melbourne #Sydney #energyhealing