MY PSYCHIC LIFE…

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…

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BIRTHDAY WISHES

So today is my birthday… the beginning of my birthday week. What did I want? Simple things today…t people sending good wishes and love. That warmed my heart. flowers and birthday cake, presents. All good.

But what did I really want?  To take a walk in beautiful sunshine. Although it rained and was cloudy yesterday, the sun came out in the morning and there was a slight breeze as I walked parallel to the river, greeted by people I knew, enjoying the day and then as I thought I’d like a sign, a natural sign just for me for the day….and stopped. There,  right where I was walking was a beautiful doe. We stared at each other and she moved closer. I thought, thanks, have some food on me…. and so she did.

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THE CAT CAME BACK…

Lily and Boo

So, these are my cats. I won’t post a photo of the cat I’m about to describe because that cat was merely visiting and not mine at all.

It was early spring. The leaves weren’t on the trees just yet. I live near a water gully with lots of trees. It’s very private there except for wandering deer, possums, raccoons, etc. No people. So it was odd to see a woman and her teenage daughter traipsing around the trees there. I knew that sometimes kids played or took a shortcut home through the gully to neighboring streets, but that was rare. These people seemed to be looking for something.

Standing on my back porch, I watched until they ventured within hearing range toward me. The woman told me she was looking for her lost cat. Her daughter was crying. It seemed the cat escaped its carrier at the vet’s office down the road and now her cat was missing.  No one had seen it in the neighborhood, including me. I told her I would be on the lookout for her cat. What does your cat look like?  She didn’t answer as her daughter was already in her car, so she offered to drop off a flyer- she ran out of them while posting around the area. I told her to just knock on my door and I’d be glad to have a flyer and be on the lookout for her cat. Too upset to talk anymore they left. Not knowing even what color fur her cat had, I reconciled that I’d know the details soon enough.

She never came back. Stray cats came and went in the gully, most of them feral like the striped tomcat most people in the neighborhood fed, and I soon forgot about the lost cat.

Spring turned into summer and the days became hot while I tended my backyard garden. Cats and maybe a passing deer and squirrels were not uncommon in the gully especially at night.

Until one afternoon.

It was probably close to the end of the day when seemingly out of nowhere a cat ambled across my porch while I was sitting there admiring my flowers. This is that woman’s cat, just popped into my brain. The thought was fleeting. I didn’t even remember what the woman looked like, let alone how to contact her. And had no idea about her cat. What if it wasn’t her cat? Maybe the cat was just new in the neighborhood. People were always moving in and out of places. No. this was her cat.

I softly called the cat to me, not wanting to scare it. It was scrawny, but friendly. I quickly fed it and gave it water. It was famished. While it ate a second helping, I took one of our cat carriers and put the food and the cat inside it, not wanting it to run away.

I knew a person that used to work at the vet’s office down the road. Was she still working there? I called and she answered. She worked there part-time now and was just leaving. I asked her if she remembered the missing cat last spring. Was it ever found? She wasn’t sure. Was the cat orange? She wasn’t sure.  She thought the cat was orange. It was big and fat, she remembered. This cat definitely wasn’t big or fat. Was I caging someone else’s cat?  Maybe someone was missing this cat now?

Still going by my strong feeling, I drove the cat to the vet’s office. She thought it might be the cat, but still wasn’t sure, but offered to call the woman.  I told her I’d leave the cat with her only for a few hours, feeling guilty about keeping a cat that might already be missed by some other family.

The woman called me after she left the vet’s office with her two children. Although the cat was thin, they knew it was their cat. It even answered to her name. Having given up hope after such a long time she was so grateful, she offered me a reward. The fact that her cat was finally home was reward enough.

 

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SIGNS

It was around eight o’clock in the evening so many years ago, yet I remember it as vividly as if it just happened.  Just out of college I drove to a guy’s apartment to spend some  time with him. Driving down country roads in my VW bug, I noticed so many dead animals – nothing uncommon unfortunately for that time of year. It was spring and animal mating season and cars did not mix, but it seemed like many to catch my attention.

I hung out with the guy, and left around two a.m. as I had to get up early the next morning. Already sleepy, I got into my car and instead of driving back to the main country road, I turned up his street and kept driving knowing I took a wrong turn.  What? Frustrated and cranky over wasting so much  time I slowly turned around, and finally headed on my way home to my warm bed.

As I started down the main road again – about a mile along the way I saw a light swaying waist high in the in the distance. Odd. There were no streetlights, just this wavering light in the middle of the road. As I approached I could see a man, holding his shoulder and the light as if to stop me. I pulled alongside him and to my right were two cars, a lot bigger than mine crushed into each other. I couldn’t tell if there were others inside the cars in the dark.

He told me there had just been an accident and to please go for help.  Before I could utter a word or park my car to help him, a police car, with siren wailing followed by an ambulance arrived. The policeman waved me on and, shaken by the experience I left.

As I drove the remaining dark roads traveled earlier, I realized had I not turned the wrong way and continued driving for those five or ten minutes I would probably have arrived at the approximate time the accident occurred.  Shaken awake, I began to notice not one dead animal on the roads where there were so many, hours ago as I safely made my way home.

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The Mysterious Hunt for Japanese Salad Dressing

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I admit I was restless. It was a Sunday afternoon and it seemed everyone wanted to stay home, read the paper or a book, or binge watch TV. It was too cold to really be outside, but I had a bad case of cabin fever so I decided to take a ride. And for some reason all that morning I felt compelled to see about this marketplace in another town.

I’d received emails about it for months and passed it once when I took a wrong turn returning home, but really had no interest other than if someone was going there and I had nothing to do maybe I’d explore what it was about.

Today it was my mission for some random reason. So, wanting to take a ride I chose it as a first destination. Riding by the river was relaxing. Being away from people today was a gift. I just rode in silence, enjoying myself and now I had a destination. At first I passed it,  not realizing exactly where or what it was- it seemed so small.

I finally parked my car and went inside. It was quaint enough with homemade desserts and shelves with herbal teas. Seemed like different vendors  selling different foods in a quasi-European marketplace. As I wandered around, I thought I’d venture onto a natural food store about a half hour away and pick up some Japanese salad dressing someone I love was really wanting and never had time to buy it since the distance always seemed like an inconvenience. iToday, the sky was the limit. That spontaneously became my second destination after I left here.

I stepped into a second room filled with tables of food and stopped. There was the guy who sold the Japanese salad dressing standing behind a table. Now that dressing was only sold some days at the local farmer’s market if you were lucky  to find him or at that natural food market I was planning to visit.  It was touch and go as far as procuring this Japanese salad dressing. And there it was.

He was just as surprised to see me and quickly informed me that they were starting to close the market. I was just in time.  I quickly bought a few bottles of dressing and he threw in some edamame spread before leaving. Thrilled with being so directly guided I drove away, and with more free time I headed to the river contemplate my next adventure.

river    Oh yes, I took a picture of this tree across the street from the market, just because it was starkly beautiful.

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THE EAGLE HAS LANDED

 So, we’re kayaking on really large, quiet lake on a hot summer day.  Having been there so many times, taking photos of wildlife, this time I secretly wished I would finally see an eagle – since so many people have told me of sitings there for years.  Just once, I wished that day. I’d like to be close enough to a real eagle. I’ve taken photos of  blue herons, ospreys, crows, wrens… even a deer swimming across the lake, but never an eagle.

Paddling along the water under the hot sun, we came across a guy resting in his kayak in one of the few patches of shade.  As we passed and said hello, he started to talk about seeing eagles on the lake a few hours ago. So we pulled our kayak beside his and listened to his stories about all his eagle sightings over the years.

I didn’t want to appear jealous or frustrated, but I really wanted to see just one eagle myself. I heard they were huge and incredible. I’d even settle for one flying in the distance.

As we were talking, or he was still talking, my friend pointed a finger upward and signaled not to make another sound. There, balancing on a limb just a few feet overhead was a huge, magnificent eagle.

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He looked down at us as if to say, “Happy now?”  Indeed I was. He remained there for a long time so I could take lots of pictures to remind me that wishes can be heard and come true. Now if I could just have that trip around the world I’ve been wishing for….

 

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THE KITTEN DREAM

Every pet owner’s nightmare. Our eight-year-old cat died. She was alive one minute, and when I turned around she was dead at my feet. Unexpected. And sad. Months later I would visit a cat rescue place where a friend worked, looked at all the feral cats in cages, but couldn’t adopt, not yet.

Then one night, a few months later I had a dream. In my dream, I saw two black and white kittens, brother and sister. Not cats. Not cat! Kittens. I awoke and figured those were my cats. How to find them? The next day I unexpectedly ran into my friend and told her my dream. “It’s  early spring.  When kittens were born, ” she reminded me. She told me she would keep her eyes out at the rescue place for two black and white kittens. I wasn’t sure I was ready, even though my dream seemed so real.

The next day she called to say they were getting their first litter of kittens. I asked her to keep me informed. She called back later that day and told me the kittens arrived. They  were black and white.

Upon seeing them, I immediately adopted the little runt of the litter. Her brother was easy to spot. Twice her size, but a gentle giant. Lily and Boo are now happily ,over nine years old, finally home, making my dream come true.

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WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING…

In the First to Sixth Centuries Ogham was the Early Medieval alphabet used to write the Irish language according to Google. However, nothing remotely algorithmically happened the day I went on my quest to find an Ogham Stone in Western Ireland.

Traveling through rural counties I came upon a small store that sold basic goods and asked the clerk about the Ogham stones. An elderly Irishman standing nearby ushered me aside asking, “So you want to be seein’ the Ogham Stones do you?” as if I said the magic word to open a magical door. He then proceeded to take pen in hand and draw a map on a piece of paper with signpost lines of  fields and mountains and streams to lead me toward my destination.

Driving through the vast countryside I started to doubt where I was going until I came upon an old, small country churchyard cemetery filled with worn religious gravestones.

And… there it was. Among them. An ancient Ogham Stone carved in hieroglyphic language with a hole near the top- the Marriage Stone where two people soon to be betrothed could touch fingers through it on either side.

I was so excited to find it, I immediately whipped out my camera – long before digital, yet younger than the Ogham Stone. The sky quickly darkened, turning black as a storm blew over the graveyard. A blinding Irish rain fell hard and fast obscuring everything in sight. With my camera light meter not even registering a glimmer of hope, I decided to point the lens, now plastered with raindrops, at the Ogham Stone to humor myself for even finding this desolate place, and snapped one picture.

Upon returning home and developing the photos of my trip, this photo of the Oghan Stone was among them. No black sky, no sight of storm or blinding rain… simply the Marriage Ogham Stone as mystical and mysterious as Ireland.