Listen to the Voice Inside Your Head

I pulled into the parking lot of abc27 in Harrisburg, PA for my live broadcast on Author Spotlight. The voice in my head said, “You’ve been here many times.” I put on my silk blouse and dress shoes, and saw it as a good omen.

The associate producer of the TV show Good Day PA herded three women and me into a conference room with a television. With almost an hour until on-air, I knew we had to talk or become paralyzed by fear, so I coaxed stories out of them. A sweet gal worked for the Red Cross and was there to talk about how the blood supply had dropped. An author sat quietly next to a library director. In time, the women asked me questions, but I could see that only the Red Cross gal felt comfortable with my psychic profession.

“How did you know you heard the women from your book talking to you? Are you sure it wasn’t your own voice and thoughts?” said one of the two non-believers.

“It definitely wasn’t my voice, and it wasn’t one of three voices I normally hear. Most often, I hear an older man’s voice, sometimes a younger man’s voice, and once in a while, one woman,” I said.

The director leaned forward, obviously provoked. “It’s God talking to you, right?”

“Do you think it’s God?” I asked. She gave a slight nod, but acted even more unsettled as I continued. “How am I to know? I’m not in charge of that, but I doubt God has time to tell me all the things I hear. I think the three voices are messengers, and since angels are messengers, they might be angels,” I said, even though I never know what to say when people ask where my abilities originate. It’s not my call. I just don’t know.

Back home after the show, a dormant memory rushed forth, and I made sense of the voice that told me I had been at that station many times. In 1982 when I had bigger hair, I did an internship there for my master’s degree. Now renovated, only the parking lot remained the same.

Yoga Calms My Soul

Intuitive vibes come from yoga, which frees and opens my mind. In the 1950s my sister, brother, and I were taught to do yoga poses by my grandfather, Homer. After he explained the proper way to do them, he called out poses and commended our skill. It took me fifty years to realize that not everyone did yoga as a child back then.

In the late 1920s, Homer jumped trains to get a free ride. One day he missed, and the train ran over his legs. After his amputations below his knees, he wore heavy wooden prostheses

Fast forward to my new yoga instructor.

“How long have you done yoga?” she asked.

“My whole life,” I said.  

Her puzzled face made me wonder how my grandfather knew yoga. After some research, I found out that during WWI in Europe, wounded American men were taught yoga to improve strength and focus. Homer probably learned it at the local Veteran’s Hospital after he lost his legs.

Being psychic makes me anxious and yoga helps. I do yoga stretches before I get out of bed, and later, when perils appear, I calm myself with the lotus position.

Thanks Papa. Long dead, you will be remembered for the healing power of yoga.

As Dad used to say, “It’s good for what ails you.”