Saturday, January 03, 2004

The Reluctant Psychic

Usually referred to as a gift, being psychic can seem like anything but a gift. A friend of mine recently said, "Most psychics I know never wanted to be psychic." This is so true! She pointed out that she knew me for a year before I let her know. (Now, she hands out my cards every chance that she gets and is a regular customer of mine, refusing to allow me to give her a reading free-of-charge.)

As a teenager, I had access to reams of information that frightened me and caused me stress. Moreover, there is the sense of alenation that teenagers normally experience coupled with just one more thing preventing me from "fitting in." I never spoke of it.

Even as a young adult, only close family and friends knew about the so-called "gift." Still, prescient dreams caused me stress as I helplessly watched them play out second-by-second in real life. They protected me, buffering between my self and harsh events, by giving me foreknowledge. The events still hurt but at least I could see them coming. Also, I often foresaw even minor air crashes and world events.

Now, I mostly consider it to be a gift. The dreams don't plague me and I am happy if I can help someone. As mentioned before, my dreams now feature ghosts who want to reach out to people I know or come into contact with and offer details that I could not have possibly known:

"My name is Joe. Tell Lily I saw her and I understand why she didn't come into the hospital room. Tell her it's ok."

"Ok," I reply. I wonder, who is Lily?

The next day, I have a client named Jane come to see me. I have never seen her before and I know nothing about her. She hasn't said anything but I somehow know that she has lost her father recently.

"Was your father's name Joe?"


"Is your mother's name Lily?"

"Oh, my god. Yes!"

"Your father asked me to tell your mother that he saw her in the hospital and he understands why she wouldn't go into his room at the end. She needs to know that it is ok."

That is often how things go. In fact, it happens with such regularity, that I now know when not to expect to see people: no ghosts came the night before!

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