Shamans and Second Sight

I take a lot of walks with my high school pal, Hannah. I feel so good after our strenuous exercise, and it’s great that we help solve each other’s problems, but the best part is that we commune with nature. Doing so helps us use that experience to guide others to a new state of healing. For her, it’s massage. For me, it’s both my music and psychic work.

When my body is tired, I am more likely to float into my intuitive brain thinking, rather than having to tell myself to make that shift. The antenna in my brain goes up all by itself. Maybe the exercise lessens my anxiety and helps me to move there.

I read that wildlife helps us with healing. The wasps on my back porch and the bird on her nest on my front porch both remind me of the season change. I can’t let myself get stuck, and I can’t give up. One of the hard parts about aging is not the increase in doctor visits to help with what I call my old car, but to keep going when a problem occurs. The other morning my computer wasn’t working and my hair dryer died. At first, I wanted to crawl back under my covers for the rest of the day, but I soldiered on and had all good luck for the rest of the day.

I read about psychic ability in other cultures. I loved visiting Scotland, the most mystical country I’ve visited. In Scotland it is common for a child to inherit his or her father’s gift for “second sight”. I read about how in Native American and Indigenous traditions, shamanism is embraced openly. Shamans connect with the spirit world via a trancelike state. That is what I do when I give a reading. No wonder it feels like I can’t hear when I immerse myself in another dimension.

I have lots of autistic tendencies, with many autistic relatives on my mother’s side. Brain scans of autistic and schizophrenic people had slight differences from the average person in their caudate-putamens. This suggested that their seat of intuition was somewhat altered, for better or worse. It is most likely possible for them to have gifts that allow them to perceive or interpret information that is normally filtered out.

Gotta dash. My favorite local park, Coleman Park, is having an Earth Day walk. Happy Earth Day! Let’s try to appreciate nature.

Live for Today, Don't Get Stuck

My trip to Europe this year had some gorgeous sites. In London, the River Thames cruise at night, the Tower of London sanctuary for the Crown Jewels and its prison, and St. Paul’s Cathedral. Wales was castles and cathedrals, with warm people in small, old towns.

My contact with other people is worth mentioning. I’ll always remember two times when I went into a bar to rest and recharge. The first barkeep taught me a long forgotten way to treat myself to the ritualization leaf tea. Another bartender in a rundown bar in the middle of Wales, listened to my complaints about my blister the size of Greenland, and said, “What you need is a proper cup of tea.” He made it and I did need it.

One lady a year younger than I am was on our tour. She stared at me a lot and then launched in. “How can you travel ALL ALONE?” she asked, two days in a row. She had helmet hair, which she must have had “done” in the fifties style the day before the tour, and now she attacked with hair spray to keep it going. “Do you wash your hair EVERY DAY?” she asked me, then the next day, “is your hair naturally curly?” Her questions seemed so odd, but she had a connection so I like to exploit any connection. When she asked me again, “How can you do it? How can you travel alone?” I was a bit snide. “One foot starts, the other foot follows. Out of my house, into the car, into the airport, onto the plane right foot first. Into the car, then the hotel, in the morning onto the bus, off it to see Stonehedge and that’s it.”

Stonehedge was the most spiritual of all my jaunts. The wind was present, and the sun. The air crisp, the crowds light. The burial mounds in the distance moved me as much as the huge stones. I could easily see why people buried their loved ones in that peaceful spot in the countryside.

Travel sends me to other worlds. It makes me think in new ways. Due to the Helmet Head Lady, I came home feeling even braver, which is perfect for old age. The bartenders made me feel loved, and Stonehedge made me accept the passage of time, thousands of years of people before and after me. Life is profound. We just have to live it and try not to get stuck.

Ouija Boards

A Ouija board became my first introduction to anything paranormal. I had an older sister, so I asked her friend Pammy to explain it to me. I heard about it from horror movies and stories of seances. 

She told me I was too young to use it, and she showed me what she called one of her family parlor games. She didn’t tell me that the small, heart-shaped device on canasters was called a planchette, or that the name derives from the French and German words for “yes” (oui and ja). 

She did tell me that a person had to think of a question and it would answer yes or no. She wouldn’t let me borrow it to take it home. Never use the Ouija Board alone, she said. She told me a person had to be strong and not sick, and only special people could touch it. And that when finished, we had to say goodbye to let the spirits know we were finished talking to them.

I was bewitched and scared. To this day, I haven’t messed with one. I doubt I ever will. I get the creepy crawlers even thinking about it. Some people see it as harmless fun, but many others, especially those with religious perspectives, think it’s dangerous. I don’t see danger, I just feel a great big stay away.

How Did I Not Know?

In November, after a mammogram, I was diagnosed with a tiny, cancerous breast tumor. I’ve been so lucky in my life that I was shocked. Someone asked, as a psychic, how did you not know?

I had told my doctor for many months that something was really wrong with me, really wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He just stared at me.

With this bad health news, I try to be gracious and accepting but it’s not so easy. The biopsy hurt, and my surgery pain was rough, but way easier than labor or a bad tooth experience. I guess the worst thing is the worry. How will my radiation go? Will cancer come back in another form or mess with another body part?

I wish I had answers for all the other people who have a worst cancer case than I do. I want to change their sad stories. I’d like to change my own sad story, even though it’s been relatively easy, as the surrounding cells have clear margins. The other women have been so sweet to me, I call it the Cancer Club, but they call me a Pink Sister. When they ask my story and I hesitate because mine is easier, they tell me it’s hard for all of us.

No one can know everything, even the smartest of the smart. My worries seem to be receding as I learn more and move through the process. People have been so kind to me, checking in with me, sending love, listening to my woes.

We can all give love. We all have terrible things happen to us. I did what I could to lead a healthy life, and I will continue with that. When I wailed to the surgeon, I’ve been so careful with my eating and exercising habits, and so little alcohol, so why did this happen to me? She leaned in and said, “You’re old, just old. That’s why.” I couldn’t have done anything about that fact.

One Case That Haunts Me

I have received threats from murder perpetrator’s families, so I can’t give close details on a case that haunts me. I can say that the killer is in jail, seemingly without my help. I first reached out to the detective in the case, an old school man who had a lot of set opinions. He agreed that we should meet, and my intellect more than my psychic ability led him to listen to my ideas.

He insisted on taping the conversation. That made me uncomfortable, especially when I “saw” how the woman died, while I cried and grabbed a trash can since I felt sick. It was only my third case, and I hadn’t yet hardened my heart.

As I “saw” her murder, I was floating by the ceiling at the entrance of the living room. That in itself was odd, in that I hadn’t before realized that I could time travel in that way. I realized that he had known her for many years, and they had been connected and spoke on several occasions. I left the police station feeling terrible, more terrible than usual. A young woman, prime of her life, a teacher, friend, daughter. I sat in my car and said to myself, can’t you do more? Can’t you think of a name for the murderer, or exactly where he lived, when you know he lived close by?

That detective retired and either threw our tape away or took it home, then he died. The next detective on the case called me back in. I couldn’t remember much, and to start from the beginning was so hard for me. I felt worthless.

When I saw on television that he was captured I had a little party, alone at my little house on a hill. I had given him a nickname, but it wasn’t accurate. The report did say they knew each other, so that redeemed me.

I’m not a detective. I’m an add on. I’m not trained. I haven’t taken any classes in this area. I make mistakes. I’m sometimes a huge help, sometimes I’m not. I wish I were perfect but don’t we all? For a myriad of reasons, I have this ability. Some days I’d like it to swirl down the drain.

After fifteen years of murder work, at age 55, I did a little dance to the powers that gave me this gift, to take it away. I told the voice in my head, I’m tired, it’s time for someone else to take my place. The good news is that it’s gone. As Dusty Springfield sang, Wishin’ and Hopin’. I wished and hoped it away. 

First Family Reunion

A few months ago, my daughter, Layla, said, let’s have a family reunion in Vermont! I’ll get an AirBnB. She wanted her six-year-old son to enjoy some of the things she liked when I took her and my son, Gavin, to summer in Montpelier and stay with my sister and her family.

Back then, vacation with family was what I could afford, and my sister and her husband were generous beyond belief, with both their time and money. The kids searched the rivers, swam, went down mountain slides, saw movies, ate ice cream and lobster, took mountain hikes, and put on plays with their cousins. 

I wonder what we will do this time, since we are grown, and Mercer’s cousins are teenagers. What fun will they have with a six year old? Although when I was a kid, I loved going to Alabama and discovering a new cousin had been born, or one I had known all my life had turned into a different person. Sometimes they were short, then the next year, tall. One year they were friendly, the next, aloof.

Family connections have a strong pull on us. This trip, I will miss the people who have passed on. What a blast if I could conjure my grandparents, so they could meet their great grandkids. This year I will see my brother, which is unusual, and he is moving to Florida so it could be a last time. Of all my family, I think he looks most like me, so seeing him means an analysis. How much grey or black is left in his hair? Did his teeth revert to more crooked than mine? Does he sound the same? Of course, voices are one part of us that often doesn’t age. The timbre lowers, but the tone is recognizable.

This will be great fun, and I’m happy to be invited. To have my kids and grandson all in one house together is a true joy. I’m taking a keyboard so we can sing happy birthday for the three birthdays I missed in August.

I’ll look at all of their physical selves, and try to be intuitive, but it’s harder to read my family than it is strangers. Or maybe I just care more and want to do better. I sure am aware of the moments that I bug them though, so I’ll take some books so I can hide.  

Fear and Confidence

I walk daily with an old friend who feels like a new friend because I wasn’t close to her sixty years ago. She is fearful of some things, and that seems so odd to me. When I got the job as a flight attendant fifty years ago, I decided that in order to have the most possible fun with new experiences, I would conquer my fears.

I think our mothers plant our fears. I guess it could be our fathers, but I know more fearful women than I do fearful men. My mom wasn’t afraid of many things, and she used to tell me I could be the president if I wanted that job. But as a child, I was afraid of goblins, ghosts, and strange men who seemed to have a bad streak.

I do believe that my foresight helps me avoid many problems. I can sense whether people are bad or good. I like to play that game when I’m bored while waiting for a bus or plane. Which one of these people are the bad people? The only problem with that is, they stay on my mind as they board the plane, while I hope they won’t be seated next to me. 

On my last bus trip to New York City, I saw a man board with his wife. She seems nice, he seems sort of skeezy. An hour after we left Bethlehem, he moved to sit next to me. I looked at him oddly, and he said, my wife is too big. This seat gives me more room. Ok then, a penalty for my not having ice cream every time I want it. I thought about walking back to ask her what she thought about his comment, but decided not to stir the pot.

Next thing, he started to rub his phone on his crotch while stealing looks at me. Oh why had a worn a pretty dress on that bus instead of my usual travel clothes? Although that’s a bad idea, to think that anything I wore made a difference. He got up to go check on her, or to use the bathroom. I told the woman across the aisle that he was being inappropriate and that if he returned, I would move to sit with her. She warned me not to tell the bus driver, since he was driving, so I just sat. He returned, and I moved. He acted horrified and asked why. When I told him he had acted inappropriately, he yelled, you’re crazy. Yeah, crazy for not telling the bus driver.

None of this generated fear, just caution. Port Authority has more security officers than anywhere I’ve seen, so when I got off the bus, I told a circle of them what had happened, and that I would stand with them to be sure he wasn’t following me. I forgot about his wife tagging along. They made me feel safe again, and off I went into the crowds of New York City.

Fear cripples us. To me, it’s poison. I try to avoid it. That man had been sitting in the back of the bus before he moved next to me. No way I could have avoided him entirely. Bad things and bad people are everywhere. Keep your wits about you, follow your instincts, and report to the bus drivers and officers of the law.