A few weeks ago a beautiful woman came for a reading
and kept crying. I felt helpless. I was tempted to ease her pain and tell her
what she wanted to hear, but I HAD to tell her what I knew to be true, which
was actually something better for her.
She just needed time and healing to experience the changes and make her
way towards a new kind of life.
It’s difficult to change a perception. I give speeches at colleges, clubs and
women’s expos, and after my last speech a woman told me emphatically, “Do not
say everyone can do it, because I can’t and they can’t.”
I do believe everyone is intuitive, but I think she
meant not everyone can help police on murder cases nor see the future clearly
for others. When I was young, I thought
my psychic ability was imagination, like other kids had pretend friends. I saw through walls into houses and lives and
thought it was hope. Back then I figured
I was imagining scenarios and conversations.
Any special powers I had were flights of fancy. Now I accept my abilities.
People often tell me they wish they had my
gift. If I had my druthers, instead I
would have wanted my baby son’s blond curls or my daughter’s good directional
sense, his quiet calm or her strength, his engineering mind or her analytical
brain. Yet I am content.
Fall brings winds of change. I wish everyone the best kind of autumn
changes followed by a winter of content.
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