Halloween Letdown

It is All Souls Day today, which means I have to wait 364 days until I get to wear a slightly stupid, homemade costume and be someone I am not.  This year for Halloween I was Carmen Miranda, a singer and dancer from the 1030’s.  You might remember her as the Chiquita banana girl.  Fake grapes and a real banana adorned my hair.  With my grandmother’s mink stole around my shoulders, I sang Chica Chica Boom Chica to my piano and voice students.  And I laughed.  And they laughed.  The only people who recognized me were all over 60.  Same with my Elvis costume a few years back.  I like to live in the past on Halloween.

 

Last weekend I read tarot at a party and an 11 year old voice student of mine asked to have her palm read.  After we finished, she expressed the typical preteen embarrassment that comes with having a dad. 

 

“He’s old,” she said.  “He likes old movies and old songs.” 

 

“That’s not old.  That’s called a throwback,” I told her. 

 

When she saw me in my costume on Thursday and I explained who I was, she hollered, “A throwback!”

 

Time travelling isn’t just for psychics.  You can do it at Christmas or any time of the year.  Grab a memory, play some old songs and throw yourself back. 

The Mouth of Babe

For over 30 years I have taught voice and piano lessons to children as young as 3 and adults older than I am.  I learn some of my most valuable lessons from the kids.  Last week 4 year old Erin asked me, “Why are you so LOUD?” 

“My family is loud and music is loud so that’s it,” I told her and tried not to laugh. 

We played the CDE Song and sang Six Little Ducks.  “What is your JOB?” she asked me as I banged away at the keys and threw my tired old arm behind me as we sang, “but the one little duck with the feather in his back…”

“Oh this is my job,” I told her puzzled face.

My two jobs, music teacher and psychic educator are similar.  I try to make people happy.  Music lowers blood pressure and spreads joy.  The murder case I worked on last month was sadder than sad but I might have held a clue to find the girl’s killer, and a reading I did this morning took away the frown on a young woman’s face. 

Back in the dinosaur era I taught speech communications at Harrisburg Area Community College.  Almost everyone hated giving speeches.  Almost everyone wished they could be somewhere else.  The fear was as palpable as severe turbulence when I was a flight attendant.  In those two jobs I learned how to deal with fear, which in turn helps me with crime. 

Last month, thunderstorms knocked out the power in my music studio and my room got dark as night.  Little Jenny cried and we ran for her mom.  Last week she bounced into my music studio with fire and energy.

“Do you want to come to my BIRTHDAY PARTY?  I will be FIVE.  You are so much FUN!”  she squealed. 

We all have insecurities.  I have tons.  But children remind us what we are doing right. 

Mom said, "Don't Wish Your Life Away"

I like the future more than the past.  I plan next season and next year.  It doesn’t matter if my plans change but the fantasy thrills me.  Sometimes I wonder if it is because of my psychic work.  In both murder cases and when helping people with their problems, I time travel to the past and soar to the future.  While the past seems fraught with angst, the future equals promise and potential. 

Now it’s summer, a season that reminds me of my mother.  She worked swing shift as a nurse so summer meant the two of us washed sheets and made beds.  I ironed my dad’s handkerchiefs and complained of boredom.

“I wish there were something to do,” I whined.

“Don’t wish your life away,” she barked.

She was right and wrong.  Right because I miss those slow hot days and her long sighs.  Wrong because the future does fill me with hope.  The present is fine but with it comes an assessment of what I have and what I do not.  Right now I have hives from who knows what, poison ivy in my yard and bees I am allergic to. 

The future holds all things.  A chance one of my children will give me a grandchild.  The possibility of another trip to Europe.  Maybe a boyfriend before I am 80. 

Wish what you want.  Wishing is good.  Wishing is rich and free. 

Am I Scared of Being Psychic?

I hear two questions over and over regarding my psychic abilities.  The first is….How Long Have You Known You Had This? The second is….Aren’t You Scared?  The first question is easy but I struggle with the second.  Do these people mean, am I scared of my own abilities?  Or do they mean, am I scared that a murderer I helped convict will get out of jail and hunt me down? 

There are many scary jobs.  The recent accident with circus acrobats falling to the floor is one.  What law enforcement personnel deal with every day is another.  I thought my mom’s job as a nurse seemed scary but she said it was not. 

My answer is no, I am not scared.  I have had this ability since my first memories.  Why be scared of what has always been with me?  If the person asking the question has committed questionable or negative acts, I say, it’s YOU who should be scared of ME.  They giggle nervously and move away.  And I’m glad. 

Fear gives me a stomach ache.  When I feel it, I banish it and replace it with a positive forward force.  At 63, I have today and maybe tomorrow.  I have people to love and places to see.  None of us should let fear hold us back from what we need to do. 

Some Ghosts Can Be Bullies

People hire me to chase away ghosts.  Go ahead and laugh, but fear is real and I try to do my part to mitigate it.  I don’t do it on my own.  I enlist the help of the person being bothered.  Some of these people seem to like having a ghost.  They talk about it to everyone and almost brag.  I tell them it sounds like they enjoy their cohabitate with the spirit so live in peace.

Other people are frightened.  They feel the a ghost is using its superior strength or power to influence or intimidate them, and maybe even forces them to do what that ghost wants.  Those people I try to help.  I think a ghost is often a disgruntled spirit.  Like a mad cat or a pesky neighbor, they come into a home and do not want to leave.  This is my advice.

Do what you would do with a caught bird.  Go into the room with the ghost and open the window.  Get a broom and move it out slowly.  Talk to it and tell it YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE in a firm voice.  Do not make a big deal.  Ghosts can get energy from you, just like bad or mad people.  Temper your voice and actions but make it clear YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.

That’s it.  No big fights.  No fear.  Try to understand that it is an entity out of your realm.  That doesn’t mean you have to put up with it in your home.  Be a ghostbuster!

Be An Angel

Some people have a guardian angel.  Others do not, but I wonder if they want one.  Is it something you can just go out and get?  I don’t know.  I do think guardian angels are like prayer and meditation, all yours and yours alone. 

You want a guardian angel?  Be one.  An angel can be defined as one who manifests goodness, purity and selflessness.  Break it down and you can do it. 

Six weeks ago my sister Judy and her husband Louis arrived from Vermont to remodel my kitchen. For 27 days they hammered and planned and sweated and cursed a little.   My 1940’s source (of embarrassment) kitchen gave way to the bare outside wall.  Next came a room to make Martha Stewart proud.  In the middle of the job my well pump broke.  We had no water or toilet for a long weekend but no complaints from Judy and Louis.  Of course, two sisters in close quarters caused the past to rear its ugly head, but that is a separate issue. 

They worked for free.  Selflessness and goodness.  The purity came from the clean lines, the drawers that close by themselves instead of ones that scraped sawdust, the smooth cork floor and the lights that help my old eyes to see. 

For 27 long days I felt inadequate, so I tried to come up with a few good deeds from my past.  It worked to make me feel better. 

Search your own past and find your own angelic deeds.  Then pat yourself on the back and soar.  Next week, be an angel again.  I will try too.