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…



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.







So, we were driving through the Southwest and marveling at its natural beauty when we stopped before a road sign telling us about some type of crater tourist spot. Other cars were headed there and so we started to follow them up a dirt side road. Midway on the road, we suddenly mutually decided not to go. There was actually no reason for going or not going, just a feeling. We ‘thought’ we were tired, too many people might be there, we should probably drive to our rental place before it got dark in case we don’t find it.  All real and logical reasons, so we turned around.

As soon as we drove along a well-traveled road it began to rain and then it started to hail. I mean hail! Golf-ball size hail stones pelted our windshield without stopping. They were so forceful we thought the windshield might crack or break.  We stepped on the gas and fighting to see, drove toward our destination.

We finally safely arrived at our place to stay for the night, ate some food, and went to sleep feeling relieved.

The next day was calm and sunny so we got back in the car and drove through beautiful rock formations for several hours. Around noon we stopped at a small store to buy some snacks and a newspaper. Sitting at a picnic bench in the sun to take a breather, it seemed the hail storm was far behind us. Until we read the headline of the local paper. It seemed a tornado touched down exactly at the sight at the exact time when we decided not to see it. Luckily there were no fatalities, but had we not turned around when we did, we would have been in the middle of the tornado.  Seems like giving up seeing a crater in exchange for a few hail stones was a wise decision.









 Many years ago three friends – myself included – shared dinner in downtown Manhattan. While eating we playfully to each make a wish for the coming year.  Each were long-time dreams.

J wished to open his own hair cutting business. He was working in someone else’s hair salon.

The other J wished to start his private therapy practice. He was working three different jobs just to make ends meet.

I wished to publish a book. Having wanted to be a writer since I was six.

That was it.

We laughed and finished our dinner and vowed to return to have dinner again same time next year to check results and/or make new wishes.

Within that year this is what happened:

J was given the opportunity to open his hair salon, which he ran for many years.

The other J started his practice with only two clients, was finally was able to have his own office, and is still very busy and successful today.

And I sold my first book and went on to sell another book, a story for national TV and hired to write a film.

Not bad for a spontaneous meal!    Happy New Year! May all your wishes come true!





Online shopping late Thursday night I hunted for a forest green cropped chenille sweater, something I’ve been thinking about buying for months – too specific? A navy cropped sweater? Not the right size. Long, expensive chenille green sweaters? No. Would I be able to find something this exact? Should I compromise?

The following Saturday, after going to a dollar store to buy needed items for our non-profit org. – the word Macy’s crept into my mind. Macy’s in the nearby mall on a Saturday? Macy’s? I couldn’t recall any past year I shopped in Macy’s. The mall?  I hadn’t been there in months except for some last-minute office supplies. But…I decide to let myself be guided. Just for fun.

I felt if I was ‘guided’ to a spot in a totally crowded mall parking lot on a mid-Saturday afternoon I would continue my quest. As I drove into the huge lot I turned down the first lane near Macy’s thinking this is impossible, and stopped. A car was literally pulling out of a choice spot in front of me – Guided!

So, I entered the mall through the closest door, Lord and Taylor. Stay with me. I’m just getting started…And, according to all the sale signs throughout the store I soon discovered that Lord and Taylor was going out of business. I figured I’d search for a chenille forest green cropped sweater on sale. Nothing even close to that as far as I could see. As I was leaving the store to enter the mall, I stopped in the shoe dept. Did I mention the only other item I was looking for online Thursday night was a pair of black leather winter sneakers? Also too specific? A pair of black sneakers, not leather, caught my eye. I tried them on – but they weren’t quite right. So, I headed toward the shoe Mecca – DSW in the mall. Surely, I’d find leather sneakers there. Guided?

Before I entered DSW, I stopped. Without prompting I entered a discount shoe store that I didn’t even know existed nearby. Guided? In the very first aisle I quickly found a pair of black leather sneakers I liked. They fit AND they were on sale. Bought them. Definitely Guided. StilI, I decided to check out every DSW sneaker aisle just to compare. Doubtful? So many sneakers. So much wasted time. Nothing.

I headed onward toward Macy’s – the major test, right? Already on the third floor I figured I could take the escalator to the first floor and leave anyway. As soon as I entered Macy’s to my right was a small two shelf display with – you guessed it- chenille cropped sweaters in colors I never saw before. But the price tags for each were over $50. Was I willing to spend that much? But wait. The sign above the shelves read: Sale Only Today $20. Really? I scanned the shelves. No forest green…hold on. Yes. Right in the corner of the bottom shelf was a folded pile of forest green cropped chenille sweaters. And… there was my size! Guided! I took a few of the other sweaters into the fitting room with it to try them all on. They fit! Perfect!

The line at the cash registers was so long. But I found the sweater! Was it really on sale? I’d have to wait to find out. Suddenly two new cashiers arrived making the line move quickly. Plus, the price was right. So, I bought a second chenille sweater of a different color – both for less than the regular price of one sweater. So Guided.  Happily I left the mall, got into my car- leaving a primo parking place for some ‘guided’ customer, and drove home.







So, this is the first incarnation, well actually the second incarnation of my FIRST book. The first publisher, Prentice Hall printed a limited number of hard copies, 6000 to be exact. Being a new writer, I decided to take things into my own hands and innocently write to the publisher telling them there should be more printed copies and more PR done for my important book.  I was ready to put that in writing when a Manhattan friend called and wanted to meet.

Riled to accomplish my goal I immediately told him and his friend about my quest. It seemed that his friend just worked on a video with an editor at Simon & Schuster and gave me his contact information. I excitedly called a video producer friend, as I wanted to make my book into a video in the future, and we got an appointment to see him.

The minute we started talking about the book, the editor told me he was leaving on a sabbatical in a month. Not a good sign. I was ready to leave when he asked the number of copies the publisher printed and the press on the book. Neither were worthy of his attention.

He flipped through the book without reading a word and said this book should be a mass market paperback- first printing 25,000 copies and offered to take it to the VP of Simon & Schuster and the head of Pocket Books, one of their imprints. I thanked him and thought nothing of it.

The book was accepted, and bought and over the years Pocket Books sold over 300, 000 copies. The video of the book was made a few years later and did I mention that when that book went out of print…Barnes & Noble Publishers bought it? But that’s another psychic story for another day.






One day as I pulled into my driveway, I saw a woman and her daughter walking among the trees in a gully alongside where I live. No one really walked there except a passing deer or night animals. Having never seen these people before, I called out to them to see find out what they were doing there.

“Our cat,” the woman called back before she joined me. “We lost our family cat. He was at the Vet’s office down the street and he got out. Now we can’t find him,” Her daughter was crying. Our street was a busy one with cars and traffic, there were lots of houses around us, and we were already blocks from the Vet’s office. Didn’t look promising.

Knowing what it’s like to lose a pet, I tried to help them look for their cat but there was no sign of any animal in or near the gully or our home – cat, dog, or bird.

She said she put flyers around town and offered to give me one in case I saw her cat in the near future. But when she went to her car, she realized she already posted the last one. I suggested when she makes more, to drop one off to me. She never did. I neglected to ask the name of the car or its color before she left either. As time went on, I never saw a posted flyer and honestly forgot about their lost cat.

Months later while watering my back garden, I noticed a cat saunter across the backyard. It wasn’t odd. Lots of cats pass through my backyard on any given day. It’s like a cat short cut, getting them somewhere to places where humans don’t necessarily hang out.

The instant I saw this cat something inside me told me this was that woman’s cat from months ago. I didn’t know her name or have her number or thought about that lost cat until now.

I gently called to the cat. It came right to me. So, it wasn’t feral. It looked hungry. So I fed it. I felt sure it was her cat. Not because it devoured the cat food – all hungry cats love food.

I instantly grabbed a cat carrier, put the cat in it, and drove it to the Vet’s office. I asked if the cat that escaped months ago was ever found it? No one knew. They contacted the family.

Within hours the runaway orange cat was safely home and happy.







 I’m not really a Tree Hugger, but I have been caught hugging a tree from time to time. Everything living has a soul, so why not connect?

Anyway, that’s not what my landlord felt. Sure, trees help keep a healthy planet, shelter wildlife, and sometimes fall on houses. But who was there first? The tree or the house? But that’s another blog.

So when I came home for lunch one day, I found hired tree surgeons cutting down what seemed to be healthy trees for hypothetical safety reasons that could/might/never happen. The trees were large and very alive. Of course I asked, “Why are you cutting down these beautiful trees?” while he supervised the job,

Well, I guess that didn’t ‘cut it’ with him, because he began to rail against me about only being a tenant, having no say about what he does on his property, and they were after all  his trees. Sadly I bid the trees farewell and wished them a more productive next life.

Emotionally upset by how he treated me, not to mention the trees, I couldn’t stay around to watch and left – hoping that when I returned I wouldn’t see his angry face again.

Hours later I returned and was relieved to find both he and the tree surgeons gone. I sat down at my desk to try to write while facing three beautiful windows and a cluster of trees.

Seemingly out of nowhere he stuck his whole face in one window, at ground level I might add. My heart jumped. Was this more confrontation? I wasn’t in the mood nor did I want say what I really felt and possibly get evicted.

“Did you see what happened?” he asked.

Biting my tongue I said nothing.

“Did you see?” He countered.

“What?” I finally asked, trying to remain in the neutral zone. Ah, the benefits of psychic experience.

He lifted his glasses to show me a gash above his eye.

“I had to go to the hospital. Three stitches!”

“How?”  I innocently asked. He surely couldn’t blame me.

“A tree branch. Out of nowhere. Just missed my eye.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I offered, but I inwardly knowing, ‘Hmmm Tree Karma.’










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I went to this restaurant for lunch because they offer a really diverse salad bar. Remember those? Anyway, I was in the middle of researching information about the NSA, that’s right, the National Security Agency for background on a screenplay I was writing. I actually needed answers to my questions from someone that knew the agency – not basic online information. And, those people don’t usually cross my path or anyone’s path, if you catch my drift.

So, I took a needed diversion and ate lunch. I had no idea what my next step would be or how I could ever find out specific information for my story. While chatting with the waiter, who I met several times before and because this research was on my mind, I laughingly asked him if he knew anyone who worked at the NSA and why. Way too out of my wheelhouse.

He smiled and said, “Me.”

A joke? He was a waiter I knew from a restaurant. I soon discovered that he not only served in the military, but had friends in the NSA he might be able to give my questions to if they weren’t security minded. Which they weren’t BTW. The chances of what happened that day? Well you figure it out.