What Does Colour Feel Like? Reading Colour With Your Psychic Senses
What Does Colour Feel Like? with Trance Medium, Donna King.
Listen to the full episode above, then read on for what I found when I went digging into colour afterwards.
I had a fridge declutter the other week. The door had got so weighed down with bits of paper it was starting to look like that bridge in Paris with all the love locks on it. In among my "sit in the power every day" reminders and my cheque to the universe, I found a page of notes from a colour workshop I took at the very start of my mediumship journey.
Red means this. Yellow means that. Green means the other.
I read it back and thought: what a load of old tosh.
Not because the teacher was wrong. They were a well-respected medium who was passionate about colour. It was because in that whole hour, scribbling away like a good student, I never once felt anything. I was learning colour with my head. And colour, I've since realised, is one of the simplest ways there is to get out of your head.
That's what Donna King and I got into in part three of The Mediumship Sessions, and you can listen to the whole conversation above. I didn't want to just repeat it here. So I went away and looked at what colour actually is, what the research says it does to us, and how you can use it to start waking up your own psychic senses.
Because I think you can teach colour in one question. How does it make you feel?
Colour really is vibration, and it also happens inside you
When Donna says every colour holds its own vibration, that isn't only spiritual language. It's physics. Visible light is a wave, and the only thing separating red from violet is how fast that wave vibrates. Red sits at the slow end, at roughly 430 trillion cycles a second. Violet is nearly double that. Every colour you have ever seen lives in a narrow band of light between about 380 and 750 nanometres.
Here's the part I love, though. Colour isn't only "out there". Your eye has three types of colour receptor, and your brain builds every shade you see from how strongly each one is firing. Which means some colours don't exist in light at all.
Magenta is one of them. There is no magenta in a rainbow and no single wavelength that makes it. When your eye picks up red and violet together, the two opposite ends of the spectrum, your brain invents a colour to join them up. Brown is the same. It has no wavelength of its own.
Now, in the episode Donna tuned into me and felt magenta. I pulled a card for her and landed on a deep brown-gold. It was only afterwards, reading up for this post, that I realised we'd each been given a colour that light alone can't supply. A colour the mind has to make.
I'm not going to hang a grand theory on that. But I think it tells you something true about colour. It is frequency and it is perception. Something real arrives, and something in you turns it into an experience. If that isn't a decent description of psychic awareness, I don't know what is.
Do colours have fixed meanings? What the research actually says
I wanted to know whether my fridge notes had any science behind them. The honest answer is yes, a bit, and then it runs out exactly where things get interesting.
In 2020 a team led by Domicele Jonauskaite at the University of Lausanne asked 4,598 people in 30 countries which emotions they attach to which colours. The overlap was striking. Black went with sadness and fear. Red went with love and anger, both at once. Yellow with joy. Grey with sadness and disappointment.
So something is shared. In the episode I called it the morphic field of a colour. Enough of us have linked red with danger for long enough that it carries. A marketing department certainly knows it, which is why I agonised over a red logo for my recruitment business years ago, chose it, and never changed it.
Look closer, though, and the shared meanings start to fray.
In China, white carries sadness as well as relief, because white is worn to funerals. In Greece, purple does.
Yellow feels more joyful to people in colder, rainier countries. As someone based in Bristol, I can only say: of course it does.
The Manchester Colour Wheel study found that different shades of the same colour carried completely different feelings. Which vindicates me. My partner at the time, who worked in marketing, once looked at three logo reds I couldn't choose between and told me they were all exactly the same. They were not.
Then there's the finding that matters most for psychic work. Two Berkeley researchers, Stephen Palmer and Karen Schloss, showed that we like the colours of things we have loved and dislike the colours of things we haven't. Later work from the same lab found those preferences move as our experiences do. Your feelings about a colour are built out of your life.
That is exactly why Donna can sit with black and feel expansion, oneness, everything, while the 30-country average says sadness. It's why I can look at a black card and feel an ending, then look again and feel a rebirth. Neither of us is wrong.
A colour dictionary gives you the average. A reading is never about the average. It's about this person, today.
Where the colour charts came from, and what mediums did instead
So where did my fridge notes come from? They have a family tree, and it's a fascinating one.
In the 1860s a London medium called Georgiana Houghton was producing spirit drawings using an elaborate colour system of her own, each colour tied to a mood or a meaning. She exhibited 155 of them in London in 1871.
Then in 1901 two Theosophists, Annie Besant and Charles Leadbeater, published a book called Thought-Forms. At the front was a key to the meanings of 25 colours, running from light blue for high spirituality down to black for malice. Almost every "red means this" chart handed out in a workshop since is a descendant of that page. Mine included.
Spiritualism took colour somewhere more interesting. Harold Sharp spent over a quarter of a century at what is now the Spiritualist Association of Great Britain, and he pioneered the auragraph: a picture of a person's aura in colour and pattern, showing their past, present and potential. He worked at high speed, and the colours usually went down first. The drawing came after.
Gordon Higginson, Principal of the Arthur Findlay College from 1979 to 1993, taught spiritual assessment through colour and is said to have told his students that every medium should learn it. The idea is that colour lets you see the spiritual quality of a person, and the potential their soul is here to express. The College still teaches work with colour and auragraphs today.
Notice the difference between the chart and the practice. The chart says: look it up. Sharp put the colour down first and let the meaning follow. That's the part of the tradition I want to stand in.
How to read a colour, and why it takes the pressure off
So what does it actually mean to "read" a colour?
Donna put it simply. It's the same as using a tarot card. The colour isn't the message. It's a doorway into what you are already feeling about the person in front of you.
Here's what that looked like when we tried it live. I held up a dark red-orange card and asked Donna what it felt like. She felt an expansion in her heart: growth, movement, feet firmly on the floor. I looked at the same card and got elegance, calm, richness. Then, the longer I looked, a gold appeared in it that I hadn't seen at first, and with it a whole new layer about the depth of what she's done with her life.
Same card. Two readings. And the card kept changing as I sat with it.
A few things I've learned about working this way.
The colour is a deflection. When you're starting out, the biggest block is pressure. "I must get this right." The moment you think that, you're in your head and out of your feeling. Give yourself something to read into, a card, a colour, a flower, and the pressure moves off you and onto the object. I once saw someone give a full twenty-minute reading from a single rose.
Anything can be the doorway. To prove the point, I pulled a playing card for Donna mid-episode. Ten of clubs. I had never read a playing card in my life, and out came strong foundations, a house in order, and a forest so overgrown it was time to act. Donna knows a psychic in Brighton who reads from nothing else.
Meanings can get in the way. When I first learned tarot I'd sit with a book of card meanings, flicking between the Two of Swords and the Hierophant, getting nowhere. I'd been reading people my whole life and suddenly couldn't, because I'd swapped feeling for looking things up. Donna has played with tarot cards since she was five or six and never learned the textbook meanings. What she finds is that what you feel tends to line up with the card anyway.
A first feeling is not the same as a first thought. Ask me what colour you're thinking of and every part of me wants to blurt out the first one that arrives. Sometimes that's just a quick mind dishing something up. You learn the difference by doing it, a lot, and by being honest about which was which.
That last one matters. I test myself with colour cards regularly. My mum holds one where I can't see it and I feel for the shade. After a week away working in the power, I've named five in a row. A few days back in ordinary life, supermarket and all, I can't get near that.
Your sensitivity moves with your state. That isn't failure. It's information.
Colour, grief and the people we miss
I said in the episode that the black card felt sad to me. Death. An ending. And then, almost in the same breath, that the end of something is always the start of something else.
Colour and grief have always travelled together. The Victorians built a whole language out of it. A widow wore plain black for a year or more, and was then allowed to let colour back in by degrees: grey, then lilac, purple and mauve. They called it half-mourning.
It was rigid, and often more about what the neighbours thought than about the person grieving. But there's something true underneath it. Grief isn't one colour. It changes. And colour coming back doesn't mean the love has gone anywhere.
If you are grieving, try this. Bring to mind the person you're missing and ask what colour they are. Don't think about it. Just notice what arrives. It might be the blue of a cardigan, the green of a shed door, the particular orange of a kitchen forty years ago.
I'd be surprised if nothing came. I wrote recently about going through my dad's things and how much memory a single object can hold. Colour holds it too.
This is also where mediumship comes in. Donna said something in passing that I've been turning over ever since. She has never used colour as a way into a mediumship reading, but sitting there she could feel that it might work.
I think she's right, and here's why. Every mediumship reading begins in the psychic. Your own awareness expands first, and the blending with the spirit world happens from there. If colour reliably moves you out of your head and into feeling, it is preparing exactly the ground a medium needs. So I don't see working psychically with colour as a detour from mediumship. It's the foundation. You learn the language of your own awareness first, so that when someone in the spirit world does step forward, you can tell what is yours and what is theirs.
And if you're here because you'd simply love to hear from someone you miss, rather than develop anything yourself, that is what a mediumship reading is for.
Five ways to start working with colour this week
You don't need a class, a gift or a qualification for any of this. You need some colours and a bit of honesty.
Get some colours in your hands. A colour deck is lovely and a colour wheel works. A handful of paint sample cards from a DIY shop will do the job too. You don't need a deck as ridiculous as mine.
Sit with one colour. Pick one and give it a couple of minutes. Notice it. Feel it. Then watch what it brings up: a mood, a memory, a person, a part of your life. Don't interpret yet. Just collect.
Build your own palette. Do that with a different colour each day and write down what came. After a few weeks you'll have something no book can give you, which is your own colour language. I call it your palette because it's about you tuning into your power, not borrowing mine.
Try the envelope experiment. Put twenty or so colour cards into plain envelopes, shuffle them, and feel for the colour before you open each one. Treat it as an experiment, never an exam. Note the state you were in as well as how you did.
Read a colour for someone. Ask a friend to choose a card, then say what you feel about them through it. Start with "this makes me feel" and keep going.
Whatever you do, write it down. My journal comes everywhere with me. Some weeks it's a workbook, other weeks it's a mirror. And I've noticed that when life goes wonky, I stop writing in it, which tells me something in itself.
Write down how each colour feels now and watch how that changes. Think about what you wore at nineteen compared with what you reach for today. Donna told me she wore bright colours as a child, stopped through the years she was trying to fit in, and wears them again now. Colours evolve in us because we evolve.
One last thing. Be gentle with the committee in your head. If you're doing a long commute, a demanding job and a family, then opening up your sensitivity on top of all that takes time, and it may stir things up as it goes. Ask yourself whether your inner committee is on your side, or whether it's a panel of food critics.
This is a journey of healing as much as development. It always comes back to the same place: trusting what you feel.
Explore this with Donna and me
Reading about colour is one thing. Sitting with a group of people and discovering that the same card speaks to each of you differently is another. That's why Donna and I are opening two live online classes this autumn.
Psychic Development: The Power of You starts Sunday 25 October 2026, and runs Sundays 6–8pm UK time on Zoom. If you're new to all of this, start here. It's about getting to know your own energy and the way information comes to you, and yes, we'll be working with colour.
Mediumship Development: Moving in the Intelligence of Spirit starts Monday 26 October 2026, and runs Mondays 7–9pm UK time on Zoom. The evening slot is there to make it workable for our friends in the USA.
You can book a single class or a pass, there's no experience needed, and getting things wrong is positively encouraged.
About Donna King
Donna King is a trance medium and teacher, and my co-host for The Mediumship Sessions. She has been living with her sensitivity since childhood, and she teaches the way she works: by feeling first.
Listen to the full conversation
This post takes one thread from the episode and runs with it. The full conversation goes much further, into living as a sensitive person, why dating apps are the Wild West, and a shamanic sound healing session that had my walls vibrating. Listen above, on the Soul Sync podcast page, or search "Soul Sync with Jason Paul" wherever you get your podcasts.
New to the series? Start with Part 1 on spirit guides and sitting in circle and Part 2 on trusting what you feel.
And if something in this has stirred a question about your own life, or about someone you're missing, you're very welcome to book a reading with me, online from wherever you are.