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.