See Like a Psychic

Many times, I’m asked about seeing through walls. It seems almost impossible to me that other people can’t. What I have trouble seeing sometimes, is the positive side of life. For sure, I’m an optimist, but life’s quicksand can get to each of us. The death of a family member or a friend feels like a pit of putridity.

 

I’ll bet there are times that you can see (better than I do) what will happen, what can happen, and who will be affected. You know how to garner your intuitive abilities, which we all have in some form, and you know what to do when a friend needs help.

 

Oh, I don’t need help right now, because just sharing my words with you today has projected me into a better mood. Now, this minute, I’ll join you and see what’s good. The sound of birds in my yard and the new babies shared on Facebook. The ocean’s roar at a favorite beach and the delight of a vegetable or flower garden.

 

A student older than I am arrived for her lesson and showed me the nickel sized cancer on her leg. “If I come in next time with a peg leg, you’ll know they got it all, " she said.

 

Through our laughter, I asked how she could joke. She answered with positive words and a wry smile. “What else can I do?”

Words and Perception

As you might know, my book Carriers of Genius has a release date of June 14, 2016. Joanna is one of my early readers, so she bought a copy in advance. When she held up my book, she said, “These are ALL your words.” I felt such a thrill that I almost spun around in circles like the head of the gal in the Exorcist movie.

Joanna is a mother and a good one. She talks to her son and blocks the rest of us out. Her comment reminded me of my favorite new mother line: use your words. But words are art, and interpretation fluctuates. Norman Rockwell’s mother, Nancy, told him to be noble and valiant. In his illustrations, he might have portrayed the opposite, with his mischievous characters and everyday heroes. Or maybe that’s how he understood her words.  

With regards to work, my dad advised me to do what I love, while my mom wanted me to get a job with good benefits. I followed Dad’s advice, and I think I followed Mom’s. She meant retirement and health benefits, while I pretended she meant my lowered blood pressure from twenty hours of piano and singing each week.

With my book, I am most happy that after fifteen years, it’s done. Now, with Joanna’s input, I can switch to the joy of the words I share. Sharing is caring. But don’t ask to borrow my sheet music.