Resolutions: What We Want and What We Get

Until I was 40, I wanted to be mysterious, petite, and blond. Finally, with my shocking psychic predictions, I’m mysterious, even to myself. With age, I’m thinner and shorter, so now I look at my skinny bones and think, I’m petite. My black hair has gone gray, so I pretend it’s close to blond.

Every Christmas, I used to ask Santa for a horse. I bought one as an adult, then sold it so I could afford my son. He’s way more fun.

With the Covid isolation, I looked back at old goals and made new ones. When regrets surfaced, I forgave myself because I wasn’t the woman I am now. When I looked at my bank account, I fantasized about five trips to Europe. Unable to travel, I threw money at the steep hills in my yard to make rolling ones and the new long driveway that now reaches my door.

Last month, as the excavator moved earth for six solid hours, I watched him sweat and jump in and out of big boy equipment. When I invited him in to get his money, he made a detour to his truck for some cologne. As a single woman, I just wanted a whiff of a sweaty man. What I got was a perfume factory. He sure did try though.

After a decade of house and property renovations, I have a different New Year’s resolution.  I’ll pursue adventures and discover firsts instead of repeats. I’ll make plans for what I want but try to enjoy what gets dumped on my lap. I’ll work on contentment in 2022.

Now, please excuse me. I have to go run my car up and down that new driveway.

Knowing About Death

Today I was thinking about a man I met in Rome in 1974. He was chivalrous, troubled from the Vietnam war, and wealthy. I haven’t seen him since then, but today I saw him clearly, and then in my mind’s eye, I saw his life slip away.

I think we all know when we’re going to die. Some people don’t want to think about it, and others, like me, ponder and embrace the reality of it.

As my nurse mother stood by my 76-year-old father’s hospital bed, he asked her, why is everything shutting down? He probably never thought he’d be cognizant of the physical process of slipping away.

My mom spoke openly of death, and in that context, she often lamented losing her high school classmates. Class of ’42 is dwindling fast, she’d say. But she was an optimist, so then she’d say, just one more year, that’s all. Many times, she said she needed one more year to welcome a first great grandchild. Another time it was a trip she wanted to take, and other years it was just an age number. She made it to 87, and the last year of her life I didn’t hear a word about wanting more time.

As a shy child, I used to reward myself when I did a brave thing. I’d ride my bike two exploratory blocks further than usual, then sneak an extra cookie. If I raised my hand in class and spoke out loud, then at recess, I’d run as fast as I could around the perimeter of the playground. Oh, did I love to run.

I thought being a child meant being the bravest. So many new things, so many obstacles, so many people bossing me. Now I know, the oldest people have to be the bravest. They are the keepers of faith, the calm, the knowledgeable, and the wonderful. 

What I Discovered About Ghosts

I’m in the midst of a job as a tour guide for history/ghost tours in Lebanon, PA. As patrons asked me questions, here is what surprised me. I’ve never seen a ghost under eleven years old, nor have I seen an old person ghost. Maybe that’s because those ages are the least troubled, and they move on to another dimension and don’t hang around.

I only see the top two thirds of a spirit with no lower half, and they float. From my ghost research, that’s common for other ghost spotters. Some spirits wear diaphanous gowns and some wear clothes from the period when they lived.

Ghosts are not scary to me, but disgruntled ones make me uncomfortable. I’ve read they are wandering souls so it’s possible they aren’t comfortable either.

The first time I experienced ghosts was with my Great Aunt Naomi when I was about five. As we climbed the stairs of the Farmers Trust building to her tiny apartment, she stopped to rest. I flattened my body against the wall and said I was afraid of the ghosts. She told me they’re harmless and that I should leave them alone.

Spirits talk to me but I don’t think they listen. This is how they present themselves to me. I see them, hear them, smell them, or get goosebumps.

Thirty years ago, a good psychic told me, you talk to dead people. Horrified, I tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but I knew it was. Since I’m a medium, I guess that’s my specialty. Can’t say I’m especially fond of them though.  

Mental Pliancy for the Hassles of Life

People ask if I meditate and I do, but I rarely explain how, because I find it odd that I use cards. About age eight, I started playing solitaire to calm myself from a brother who bugged me and a dad who yelled. The game lulled me into a non-state of relaxation. In the 1980s, I started using tarot cards for the same effect. I continue to use both when I feel agitated or anxious.

One of my piano students has just become enamored of meditation. He told me the thrill he felt when he came home from a hard day at school and listened to two, ten minute meditation tapes. I never saw his smile so wide.

Meditation increases connections between two brain networks. One controls unfocused thinking, like daydreaming, and the other, specific and demanding tasks. Tibetans call it mental pliancy, this switching between states, and they believe it helps with self-growth. Research shows that problems in this network have been linked to Alzheimer's disease.

On a day you get bombarded by hassle after hassle, try meditation. Do it any way you want. Maybe you can get into a meditative state when you knit or take walks. It's a good, easy fix that leads to pleasure.

Pronouns: Aren't We All a Combo?

One of my first email clients was a man. After many readings, I found out it was a woman. At first, I chastised myself, until I realized that I see a lot of people, including myself, as some parts man and some parts woman. It’s like the Virgo sign, where the women are more masculine in their approach and the men often work in previously female jobs.

I’m self-employed, which in my generation was predominantly male, and I’m good at collecting overdue money. I often travel alone and few things scare me. I never dress frilly, I like my hair short and I dislike spa treatments. On the other hand, I’m heterosexual, love having children born of me, enjoy a sexy dress once in a while, and I still have my 1957 dolly.

So, what’s my point? Embrace all parts of yourself. We are more than just one thing and we can do more than one thing. The confusion we feel about pronouns is all good, so don’t be frustrated. Just ask and accept.

It Takes All Kinds

My dad used to call some people odd ducks, but he would finish with, it takes all kinds. On that vein, one question I ask myself often is, how can people be satisfied with listening to music and not playing it themselves?

I used to listen to music often. The same song, over and over. I started with 45 RPM vinyl records in my parent’s basement and moved on to blaring new and innovative pop music from my dorm room in 1970. My next phase was headsets and albums on repeat as my young children slept. I so wanted to go hear live music but I stayed home with them.

I’ve played piano since I was seven, and the violin briefly and badly, but my true favorite is singing. I love it all so much, and I want to ask everyone I know, why don’t you play an instrument?

On my long drive back from Vermont last week, I realized the answer was that listening and playing put me into the exact same float zone of pleasure. They aren’t disparate. They’re like my psychic abilities, where I put myself into another dimension and my body is not important. My life becomes the song.

That question is now solved for me. Listening and playing music are about pleasure and the release of reality, to enter another realm that is just as real and often easier.

Quieting the Chatter in Your Brain

A friend asked for my advice for quieting chatter. She gets ideas psychically and sometimes they are too much and too many. In her morning meditations, she asks to remain open and receptive to new and creative insights, but laughs to think that maybe she should stop that.

I told her it used to be harder for me to quiet chatter, but I learned a bit. When I can see that a friend is sick or dying, I have to force myself to pretend it’s not true and continue as we have, unless I get clues otherwise. When I get bombarded with intuitive thoughts, I sometimes clap my hands and say, get to it, Jan. Meaning do something left-brained and practical like balancing my bank account. Other times, I do my yoga breathing and clear my mind of crowded thoughts.

My favorite is the morphing game. I noticed on Facebook, there’s a little game that goes, My Mom made the best….! But I couldn’t play because I only remember my dad and his corn fritters. Mom, nada. As a result, when my children were young, I baked every weekend. You see, as a child, I envied Libby’s mom, who made what her family called the cement mixer cake, commonly known as crumb cake, which they mixed in their mouth with milk. Since my mom only bought baked goods, I morphed into Libby’s mom as an adult.

Substitution thoughts can work for quieting chatter, especially at night as we try to sleep. At the dentist, I always go on my last vacation in my mind, and time passes quickly.

A Long Life? Wrist and Hand Lines

I was talking to my son about a will, since he just turned 30, when he interrupted me with a question. Age 102? Are you still sticking with that? Yes, I told him, that’s when I think I’ll die.

Maybe you are wondering for yourself, so let me tell you about my research on bracelet rings. Look at the inside of your wrist. Two rings are a normal life span and three means longevity. I have four, which is good luck. I also have three lines down from my baby finger, which is an instinct for business. What I don’t have, which represents being good at business, are firm tips on my fingers. Mine are raised pads of flesh, which is psychic and sensitive. 

I’ve mentioned before that there are three major lines, heart (emotions), head (reason), and life (health). Some people have what is called a simian line, because monkeys share the same trait. It’s one line instead of the top two, heart and head. It means your intense emotions and reason are intertwined. 

Now look for stars, squares, crosses and triangles on your palm. Stars are good fortune and success. A square means you can minimize harm. A cross is an obstacle or defeat. A triangle is mental brilliance. 

My favorite line is the fate line. It starts by the wrist. Mine starts higher because I didn’t get serious about my career until my thirties. If your fate line is unbroken, it’s stability. With a strong line, you are motivated. No fate line? You don’t like routine. If it’s weak, you yield to circumstance. Mine ends at my third finger, which means I have had success and I’m dedicated. It also means I will work past retirement age. I plan to work until I’m 90 or 100.  

Knowing People's Health Problems

In psychic readings, I often start with a client’s health issues. It works in two ways. Sometimes my eyes are drawn to a part of their body, but more often I feel actual heat or pain there. I’ve been told I’m helpful, but I feel helpless if I realize they’ll continue with unhealthy habits. Instead of harping about ruin, I send out love. I can only fix myself. I can’t fix another person.

I love being psychic. I hate being psychic. I love that I help solve murders. I hate when I can’t save people. One time, I begged a client to leave town because of danger, she didn’t, and her death occurred. Another time, I knew a cop would die on a highway but couldn’t be more specific, and he was killed as he helped a stranded motorist change a flat tire on a snowy day.

I’ve done many years of therapy to excise my demons and save myself from destruction. Seeing the dark side is never easy, but life is a day-to-day task. Positive thoughts and actions are what you can control. No one needs my help for that.

Essex wrote a pop song in 1963, Easier Said than Done. That’s all I can give you.

Becoming One with Another

A close connection with another person or animal is the fruit of life. It takes intuition, emotions, and the ability to let yourself go, to fuse two into one. I think it’s the reason I enjoy my grown children one at a time. Of course, the three of us together is a wonderful party, but with one, I get the full effect of our relationship and who we are together.

A gal pal calls her horse her son. She cares for him, pays for his boarding, and their souls are tied together. I so enjoy Leon, the dog next door, and I know he loves me when he looks into my eyes.

Pay attention to the link your soul has with other people. As we come out of a long hibernating year, it’s time to be close. The parts of yourself that you lose when you become one are not yours to begin with, ashes and ashes, dust to dust and all. Soon we will feel this closeness in a physical sense, with hugs and pats on the shoulder. So sweet, like fruit, and good for you.

Am I a Medium? Are You One?

I keep wondering, am I really a medium? The word makes me feel I should be doing seances in dark rooms with exotic people. I still do hear dead people, but I heard way more of them when I was immersed in helping solve murder cases.

A study at Durham University says that people who become deeply immersed in mental tasks and activities are more likely to claim they can communicate with the decreased, with only 44% hearing voices on a daily basis. Clairaudient, they are called, and most heard voices in early life. I certainly did, and it’s why I was a fearful child who rarely spoke. With no outlet or support, I figured my practical nurse mom would call them imaginings and my engineer dad would say, nonsense.

Many mediums hear voices inside their heads, and others experienced voices coming from both inside and outside their head. Mine come both ways, sometimes with various voices, but more often one strong, male voice. I seldom talk about it when it happens. It was private for just too many years.

Dominic Albanese, a poet pal, says he hears his dead mom and friend’s voices in the wind and in the shower. He claims it’s rare that he talks back, but sometimes he does. I seldom talk to dead people, but in my career, I pass on their advice and secrets to loved ones.

Here’s the good news about the study. The team found no significant link between belief in the paranormal and proneness to hallucinations. Whew.

Quick Guide to Palms: Heart, Head, & Life Lines

On your palm, there are three main lines going horizontally. The top one is the Heart Line. Curved means you’re sensitive, straight is direct. Darker is emotional and impulsive, while pale means you need reassurance. Any chains you see represent a broken heart.

If that line is close to your fingers, you have spiritual love. If it’s low, your emotions are tempered by reason. I have a narrow space between this heart line and the next one down, which is the head line. Narrow means introverted. If you have a wide space, you’re extroverted.

The middle line is the Head Line. Strong means a powerful mentality, while a thin line represents daydreaming and difficulty with decisions. Mine is long, meaning I have lots of interests. A short line represents specialists. My Head Line is curved, which signifies a creative communicator. A straight line is someone analytical with good concentration. At the end of that line, two lines fork off, which means I’m a writer.

The bottom of those three lines is the Life Line, a line of health and energy. If it’s prominent, then physical activities are more important to you than intellectual. If you have a broken line, your constitution is delicate or you had an accident. A wide semi-circle is a zest for life.

Branches up from your Life Line are successes, children, or relationships. A fork at the end of your life line means lots of travelling, or that your life can alter dramatically. A double, parallel line represents protection against illnesses or a long-term mate.