A Mom's Five Eyes

In the 1950s, all of our mothers had “eyes in the back of their heads”. At first I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I decided it meant two eyes in the back, underneath their hair. When a boy at school stared obsessively at pictures of Hindu’s third eye, I believed him when he said it meant a higher consciousness. That added up to a total of five eyes.

All my friends’ moms watched us in different ways. D’s mom had gorgeous skin and talked to me in private, an unusual occurrence. She barely saw us as we played outside. My own family didn’t abide silliness or jokes, but K’s mom, whose life revolved around her invalid husband, let us pretend to be horses as we ate our dinner in bowls on the floor. L’s mom baked cakes and gazed sideways at me. My mother, Lorna, had some autistic tendencies, so I thought she didn’t notice me with any of her five eyes.

Yet when I told her I had an application for grad school that also paid a stipend, she bugged me until I sent it off. I think she knew I would get it. Her insights about strangers surprised me, and her desire for me to get a “real job” pushed me to develop my artistic talents into careers that paid well.

I used to get SO irritated with my mom. The worst was when I was about eleven. Suddenly I didn’t like her voice, her smell, her hair, and her demands. Right now, I’d give my slice of the moon to get any part of her back. But we gotta make room for the babies, so all of us die.

I just read that a child’s cells are in a mother’s body forever. No wonder a mother has extra eyes and senses to help others along their paths.

In this lovely day of May, let me shout out Happy Mother’s Day to your mother. Salute!

My Sixth Sense in Museums

In school, I disliked history because of the male bent of wars and conquering heroes. Too shy to ask questions of my teachers, I felt them swirl in my brain. I wanted to ask: What did women do during war? How did children cope? What about the men too old to fight? What was everyone feeling?

That lack of history knowledge led to my loving exploration of museums. Last weekend I visited my new favorite, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, Massachusetts. As my son and I soaked it in and marveled, a quiet wave of my sixth sense pervaded everything. In the Puritan room, I “saw” children playing and women cooking. In the Revival Jewelry area, I “glimpsed” creamy necks and beautiful faces. In the Musical Instruments room, I “heard” sweet music. On marble statues, I “saw” strong hands carving.

The older I get, the more I love history. I only wish I had studied and read more of it. There’s a Pennsylvania Dutch saying that fits. “Too soon old and too late smart.”

Business Decisions and Intuition

I work for myself, so when a business decision goes south and swirls down the drain, I can’t get mad at the boss. To combat my frustration, I pretend I’m playing the 1950s game of Kick the Can. That game must have started because few people had access to expensive balls. I know that when I played that game, I said ouch to my foot as I watched the can travel only a few feet.

Business decisions, like life decisions, can be put into mathematical formulas. Weigh one side against the other. Assess the costs and benefits. Even with all those formulas, your resolution comes down to intuition, or desire, or a combo platter of both.

Follow the Young People's Road

I have a new YouTube channel, Psychic Shortcuts-Everything Paranormal from A to Z (https://youtu.be/wj9w8wN-QLw). For a long time, I’ve talked about how psychics have dots of color in their iris as opposed to lines (E is for Eyes), tried to explain how to be more psychic (H), and been paid to help people get rid of ghosts (G).

At first, I thought I would videotape and post it myself. Disappointed, I accepted that I couldn’t, with the learning curve too high. I don’t know why I hit a wall, because I’ve had a computer since 1983, and I push myself with new technology. Like the Wizard of Oz’s yellow brick road, I wanted to follow the young people’s road.

Now I know that two heads are better than one. My videographer/producer, Savi You, has so much going for him. He knows the equipment side, boosts my morale, laughs with me, and has the patience to do three or four takes. Then he edits and posts my videos. As we tape, he tells me when he’s bored, or when I speak like I’m reading, yet he never hurts my feelings. Best of all, he asks intuitive questions, which fosters new ideas.

I thought this new gig would be left brained, but it turns out to be right brained, and I’m excited and nervous in between creative juices. As a teacher, I don’t know everything, but I like to share the things I’ve learned.

Please watch the first eight episodes, and subscribe and hit the like button. I think you will laugh, and I hope you will learn. I’ve seen YouTube music videos, but now I spend more entertainment time on that young people’s road. And by the way, I spelled it Utube for years HA.

Food, Desire, and Intuition

Sometimes I see food like war. Since I’ve never been at war, I can only imagine what it’s like, but I notice similarities in my own life. Let me start with desire. I use my intuition with romantic desire, but I also use it in my desire for food. In a restaurant, it helps me decide what will make my stomach feel the best, and what seems the freshest.

Because I’m thin, some people assume I don’t have overwhelming food cravings. Let me tell you, my cheese drawer calls my name all day long. I don’t use ice because then I’ll see the chocolate and vanilla ice cream that I pretend isn’t in my freezer.

I make a lot of promises when it comes to desire. Later you can have it, I say to myself. Gluten free crackers holler for a homemade dip. Because gluten wreaks havoc on me, I eat it sparingly or I’ll get what my dad called heartburn. It’s like Pavlov’s dog, with the pup that salivates when the food bell rings. Pavlov even called the dogs' anticipatory salivation "psychic secretion.”

My dictionary says intuition is direct perception of truth. I know for a fact that I am at war with food. I want it, I fight for it, I shop for it, I slay it, I regret the emotions that get out of hand when I eat too much or too often.

It’s lucky for me that I love to read more than I love to eat. That’s another trick I play. I replace my overwhelming desire for lots of food with other things I like more, like a movie or conversation with a friend.

As in war, I feel a satisfaction when I win my battle with food, even though it’s a gratification that’s never fully realized. But anyway, I gotta go. Time for a root beer float.

Observers Use Intuition

I had a terrible cold for nine days, and when I spoke, I coughed. So I decided not to talk during the social events of the Christmas holidays. Instead, I observed.

One lunch involved a six month old baby, who like me, watched everything that was happening in the restaurant. Her intuition kicked in right before mine. She was the first of us to spot the person at the next table who acted like babies had no right to be there, and she reacted with a tightening of her entire body. When she spotted the man who looked like he wore clown clothes, she was the first to laugh.

All my life I’ve been an entertainer, so I often try to be funny at gatherings. With my cold, I had to listen and watch. The women at a small New Year’s Eve party accepted me as I laughed and nodded, and I observed close friendships and warmth.

Intuition is reception, which can formulate a deeper knowledge of other people. Gifts bubble below the surface of life, so take time to observe and explore the inner workings of the world.

Tarot Cards and the Evil Eye

In the past four months, I’ve worked most weekends at holistic expos and book fairs. My intuition soared, and my muscles strengthened as I carried signs, tablecloths, and books. I made friends, welcomed old clients and greeted new ones. What surprised me were the differences between holistic expos and book fairs.

At holistic expos, I’m thrown into the 60s hippie era. Vendors often arrive late and slowly set up colorful displays, with handmade signs and draped scarves. Patchouli and aromatic oils fill the air. Vendors wear loose shirts or long skirts, and talk about the paranormal, reiki, and healing. With ease, I lure people into my booth for readings, but it’s more difficult to sell my book. In that venue, I’m conservative.

Book fairs are different. Everyone enjoys words and loves to read. Vendors have plain booth displays, with little color and easy lettering, and it smells like a bookstore. When I arrive early to set up my booth, other vendors stand ready. Some look askance at my “buy a book, get a free psychic reading”, although most try to accept it. Instead of the paranormal, we discuss plot lines, sales, and our next work. In that venue, I’m one of the least conservative.

In November, I had a booth at a library book expo. Well organized, it featured genteel volunteers, many authors, and a mishmash of lovely things for sale. People stopped to talk about my book, and I sold a good amount. The only downside was a woman close to my age, who stared at me every half hour from her booth.

As she prepared to leave, she gave me the evil eye. When I was younger, I used to talk music in bars with band members, as their girlfriends perfected their dirty looks. But this was way worse, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead. I assume the book expo woman didn’t like the invasion of my psychic readings. In retrospect, I should have been intuitive enough to approach her, instead of minding my own business. It’s hard to know what to do, when my venue changes every weekend.

I like being a rover, so it’s been a wonderful autumn. Thank you to all who attended the holistic expos and book fairs.