People always ask me,

“What’s it like being a Psychic?”… “Why don’t you just play lotto?…”Because I ‘know’ I won’t win?”… “What am I thinking?“…”Why would I want to !?@## know that?”…“Who will I marry?”… “Wouldn’t a better question be – When will I divorce?” A real answer for “What’s it like being a Psychic” is …“It depends”.

Since I know no other way, being a Psychic seems normal to me. To most people it seems exotic, odd, uncanny, crazy, fill in as many blanks as you wish. Being called Psychic is like having a scarlet “P” around your neck at all times…



I was living with my boyfriend in abject poverty. We had barely enough money to get by. BTW? There is no romance in poverty. 

One evening when we were grocery shopping in a supermarket on our limited budget I pushed our cart down an aisle and spotted something folded and green in front of me on the floor. I couldn’t miss it. I picked it up, thinking it might be a dollar bill. It turned out it was a fifty-dollar bill!

I knew it was fruitless to go around asking strangers if they lost a fifty-dollar bill. Undoubtedly everyone would say yes. I cruised by the cashiers in the front of the store to notice anyone frantically checking their wallets or pockets in search of their lost money. I kept doing this for quite a while, but no one seemed disturbed.

So, we decided it is ‘a gift’ and used some of it for groceries and saved a little bit of our good fortune to split between us and buy something fun.

Years later having moved far away and no longer with that boyfriend I was talking to a friend in a local bar, telling him about this strange experience. As soon as I finished talking I glanced under his bar stool to find a folded fifty- dollar bill. Again.

Now, many years later I was sitting on my back porch relating the two funny fifty-dollar stories to a friend while she fed a stray cat. A few days later while fixing a somewhat flat tire on my car in the driveway, I sat in the driver’s seat and found between the seats, a folded… You guessed it…fifty-dollar bill!

I guess I’ll keep mentioning these stories in the future… maybe play Lotto the next time?


Years ago, alone in my apartment, I was sick with strep throat and a high fever. Not a great way to be, when my father called. I lifted the phone to my ear and we talked for a short while and then he told me something that pushed my childhood buttons. It made me instantly upset. Feeling so physically vulnerable didn’t help.

As he kept talking I began to feel something inside me that I never felt before. A voice in my head started to say, “Don’t resent. Just love.”  I wasn’t buying it. I wasn’t feeling so forgiving in the moment. “Don’t resent. Just love.” The voice kept repeating during the conversation. My head was spinning. Was I supposed to just ‘get’ this lesson while I’m sick and my father didn’t have a clue that he was hurting me?

“Don’t resent. Just love.” As the words repeated in my head I began to feel them. I mean physically feel them. “Don’t resent.” Feelings of resentment rose inside me. “Just love.” Then they were replaced by a surge of loving feelings. This continued for another few minutes. The opposing feelings rising and falling with the simple words.

I got off the phone and went to bed. Lesson definitely learned.



I don’t know about you, but I’m not a big fan of bats. Something about them is probably intriguing, but not to me, not in my house- you get my drift?

Anyway, I’m not sure how it got inside, but while I was sitting on the couch one night, I finally noticed something that looked like a frog on my rug. What was a frog doing in my place and on my living room rug? Of course, my ferocious felines in the room didn’t even notice it… until…it spread its wings and took flight. It was a bat! A black winged bat, and it was flying around all the rooms like a low flying drone. Terrified!

I managed to get the cats in a bedroom and closed the door, not knowing if the bat was rabid. Then I realized I was alone with a bat that could be rabid. Not a smart move. It continued to frantically fly around. I didn’t know what to do.  The cats were crying and so was I. If I left that wouldn’t solve my problem. It was late at night so I couldn’t call anyone. I wasn’t about to sit at my computer and Google ‘how to get rid of a bat in your house’. I kept watching where it was so I wouldn’t be too close.

Finally, I did what any terrified resourceful psychic would do. I tried to telepathically communicate with it. I know you’re thinking, bats in my ‘brain’, but here’s how the rest of the evening went: I opened the back door onto the porch and waited until it flew into the living room where I was standing. My heart, of course was in my throat and my backup plan was to run out the door, first.

So I started sending it a message- ‘Go to the door.’ I kept repeating the words as if my life depended on it. Actually, in that moment I thought it did. I envisioned bat teeth piercing my skin and then rabies shots or whatever. I kept sending the message.

Within minutes the bat flew to the corner living room window right next to the open door and settled there. Great. How was I supposed to know that bats are literal? I took a breath, glad to still be breathing and telepathically sent a new message – ‘Go OUT the door’. I kept repeating the message in my mind, hoping the bat would get it. It did get the first one?  Nothing. We were at a standoff. At least it wasn’t flying toward me. Small victories.

I waited. Then the bat opened its wings, left the window and flew once around the living room. I of course ducked into the kitchen, but not before I saw it fly out the open door. I ran to the door and locked it. Like the bat was going to open an unlocked door.  I didn’t want to know if it was flying around the porch in the dark. I let the cats out of the bedroom- they obviously didn’t understand bat language and had no clue why they were in lockdown, but I was too tired to even try to communicate, so I kept all the lights on and went to sleep, knowing there was a very psychic bat out there that was just as happy to be free.



Years ago, I went on a vacation with my boyfriend. It was my first time visiting a Caribbean Island… and I fell in love… with the ocean. So clear, so warm, so gentle.

So, one early evening as we were walking along the beach before going out to dinner, he walked onto one of several stone and sand jetty’s leading out to the ocean. Reaching the end of the jetty he called for me to join him. Something told me not to go. He kept calling me, insisting not to be afraid. It was perfectly safe. But it still didn’t feel right. “Nothing’s going to happen!” He called. “It doesn’t feel right!” I called back. “Don’t be a baby! You won’t get wet!”  He replied.

Just then a huge wave in a normally tranquil bay surged behind him and crashed against him. Needless to say, he was rather quiet when we finally had dinner.



So, I’m standing in line to check out at the grocery store, which is fairly busy. When are they not?  And there’s a year- old girl wailing in her shopping cart seat ahead of me in the long check-out line. Wailing. Her frantic mother tries to bargain with her as if she’s a lawyer at the Hague. Embarrassed, she continues talking to this loud, cranky child who can’t speak and is getting more frustrated by the minute. The young cashiers and surrounding customers are rolling their eyes. Time to step in as the ‘baby whisperer’. I finally catch the attention of the child while her mother is intoning the various mantras she usually uses to calm her down. The child stops wailing for a second and stares back at me with a look that tells me – ‘What is she trying to say? I just want to get out of this cart and run around.” I send the child a telepathic message, knowing just how she feels.  “You’ll get out soon. Have some juice. Tell her you want juice. In the bag. Juice in the bag.” The child immediately quiets and points to the bottle of juice in her mother’s ‘baby bag.’ The grateful mother hands the child the bottle of juice as the cashier continues ringing up customer items.  Any port in the storm.



It was snowing. It was cold. It was pre-Covid. We were parked in a mall parking lot and it was late and on a weekend. Hurrying to the car to get home and get warm, I pressed the battery alarm attached to my key to open the doors. Nothing. Did I mention it was dark?  And no one else was around? I pressed it again and again. And again. Nothing. The battery was dead. At the time we didn’t know after you put the key in the lock and open the door there was a way to turn the obnoxious sounding alarm off.  The nightmare of driving a car in the snow with a loud alarm blaring didn’t seem like great option. But neither did freezing in some mall parking lot as the snow was creeping up to our ankles.

So I did what any normal psychic would do. Rather unconventional. But as they any port in a storm…I took the car door battery in both hands and focused on sending healing energy through my hands to the battery to help open the doors. The other passengers were laughing, mocking, but also hoping this wacky thing would work. I had no idea if it would, since I never tried it before. I kept focusing. They kept freezing and laughing and saying they would chance riding with the alarm blaring. It was getting late. No one had a phone. It was one of those days.

Now was the moment of truth. Well actually not that dramatic. Just a desperate psychic act in a snowstorm. I help my frozen breath and pressed the button to open the door. It worked! We scampered into the car and started the engine. No alarms. All systems go. Including my healing hands system. Maybe I should add it to my resume.



So I Read for a pregnant woman and told her many things, but I also told her about her unborn child. We knew it was a boy and described his personality and how she can nurture him as he grew up.  The Reading finished and I never saw her again.

One afternoon three years later I was in a shop that sold jewelry and clothing on another street far from my office.  While inside, a little boy about two or three entered alone and stopped right in front of me as if he knew me. I looked around the shop and at the open front door thinking his parent would soon follow him.

Minutes passed. There was no sign of any parent at all. I tried to find out his name and where a parent might be to no avail. Finally, I took his hand and led him out the door, hoping to see someone that might be looking for him.

As we walked outside, a woman came rushing down the street toward us, obviously relieved to find him. His mother looked vaguely familiar and became even more familiar when she told me she was that pregnant woman and her son was just as independent and stubborn as I told her he would be. He smiled up at me, still holding my hand as if to remind me we met before.





You can live in the NOW, but if you do not learn from the PAST… the Now will become the FUTURE….

People are frightened, anxious, depressed, angry over everything happening this year. Understandably so. But what if we look back to other times and generations. Did they not go through life feeling the same over what they had to face?  This is not a Kumbaya moment. It is a call for action.

Let’s not compare, but learn. Let’s not be frightened, but seize upon this global moment and grow and change so that we can walk into a future they never dreamed could be. For them. For us. For generations of the Future.


Let me tell a joke

to men who burn crosses with lily white fingers

wearing African gold. 

To bow tie dark faces

That leave capable women

to mother their sons. 

Let me tell a joke

to mothers and fathers who raise raw hand voices

that smother childhood’s dreams;

Lovers who slice bleeding hearts

into pulp meat silence. 

Let me tell a joke

to rich corporate raiders with

movie star contracts

politicians who face the cracked mirrors

of the homeless and poor

that wait by the river. 

The punch line is simple:

What if we’ve lived through past lives

Beyond eyeball movement

traveling the earth 

Were they you? 

We emerge and leave

Equal and whole.




I was asked what the Corona Virus means spiritually.

Regardless of what or how you worship or view more than this physical world…My sense spiritually: This is a time of beginning of purpose – something I’ve been predicting (not the pandemic specifically )a huge global wake up call for us on all levels…physically, spiritually, environmentally, emotionally…For the past few years especially we have seen the upheaval in societies, people’s personal lives, and the blue planet well before this pandemic- and it has been building. By ignoring what is in front of us, this pandemic is a way to stop the mental noise, find nature’s balance, and pay attention- what other way than to have all people do this at once to learn what is important and to have a chance to hit the pause button to take stock of themselves, their lives and where they are going…It is the ‘universal way’ for everyone to Get Woke. Like Spring, it is a time of renewal and growth.