So I had an unpleasant thing happen to me recently. In short, I was manipulated and taken advantage of by someone who left me in a really bad position. I won't say too much about the situation here, in case there is a chance that it can be ameliorated. Unfortunately, at this juncture, I think it far more likely that it will keep getting bigger.
Anyway—I mention it here because sometimes, when things like this happen, people ask: Well, how did that happen? You're psychic, right? Didn't you know?
Yes, I am psychic. I have worked to develop this ability on several levels. Here are some examples:
I've worked to understand what my signals mean. A lot of the time, I hear information via a spoken voice, or see a message as a written statement. These things are normally pretty clear—but not every message says exactly what it means. Sometimes, I get symbols or images that I have to interpret. These are frequently unique to each individual. My clients hear me trying to work out the meanings to these puzzles. We laugh about it together, after I have solved them.
I've worked to learn how to work with my abilities in ways that are compassionate and meaningful. That's why I don't have the winning lottery numbers every week (although I'm looking forward to having those). My work here is to use my gifts to help other people. It would be an abuse of those gifts to spend my time just looking for ways to gain from it.
And (arguably) most functionally important:
I've worked to hold the ability separate from my everyday life. That means I've worked really hard to determine when it's okay for me to be available (when I have enough energy; when I have the attention to spare; when I can be compassionate and loving, etc.), and when I need to shut down the information coming from my third eye. I don't want to be bombarded with information just walking down the street, or standing behind somebody in the line at the grocery store. It's true that there are still days when I know painful, funny, or embarrassing things about total strangers, out of nowhere—but that happens far less frequently now than it used to.
There are more ways that I've learned to work with my psychic gifts, but I'm going to stop there for now. That's saying a lot.
Nowhere in those does it state anything about needing, or wanting, to be “on” all the time. That's because I don't.
Whether you are a casual moviegoer who has enjoyed the recent influx of fantasy-themed films, or a dedicated lover of the fantasy and science-fiction field, you likely recognize the old trope: access to a constant stream information can destroy a person's sanity. In one old Tom Baker-era Dr. Who, for example, a fellow entered a beam of light containing all knowledge, and essentially, his brains melted and leaked out his ears. That can be what it feels like, if I don't learn how to turn off my abilities.
Which leads me to a delicate point: I don't want to have people around me that I have to be worried about. People that I have to scan, or interpret, or wonder about, are too much. I don't want to have to be “on” all the time. That's too much work, on physical and emotional levels, both. I have to trust that the people around me are “safe” people. If I constantly have to consider their motives, then I don't need to be around them.
I am, indeed, psychic. And I do want to have positive things happen to me, of course; it would seem that I have a leg up on that happening. But, just as these abilities are not given to me to identify the winning horses, I'm not supposed to track down and avoid everything that looks like trouble. Does that mean I throw myself into bad situations? Of course not! It's just a misuse of my talent to try and live in a Mr. Rogers world.
There's another point that I should mention here, too. It's a little embarrassing, so I guess I'll just say it fast, with my eyes closed: Sometimes I'm just wrong about people. Sometimes their perfume/cologne, or their guileless eyes, or the corner of a crooked smile, reminds me of someone I used to know, or a character I read about—or one that I created—and I allow myself to hear what I want them to be saying, as opposed to what is actually falling out of their mouths. Or something.
I'm not immune to basic human desires. We all want to be liked, to be nurtured; to connect with other people. That is not any different for me just because I have this ability. I have a big singing voice, too. Neither one of these things changes the bottom line.
As a matter of fact—while I help reveal dearly-held secrets about perfect strangers every day, I am pretty uncertain about my own life. My pet theory about this is that I can rarely read for myself because I can't get objectivity. Being able to step away from emotional entanglement with the information is crucial to giving a quality reading—and of course I have no objectivity about my own life.
The more intimate time (watching television, sharing meals, and so on) I spend with friends and acquaintances, the less likely I am to be able to read for them in a comprehensive kind of way; the more likely it is that something will be skewed during the course of the reading. It's as though the wiring goes wonky, just like what happens to the watches that I used to try to wear. (I've given up on wearing them now. It never ends well.)
At the end of the day, I'm still just a girl with a gift. While I work to make the use of my gift an extension of my spirituality, I am not at a place where I see through the lens of compassion all of the time. I don't see through the lens of my third eye all the time, either. I don't think I would want to have all of people's foibles revealed.
I don't see bad things happening as a reason for me to use my abilities more comprehensively, or try to make everything in my life picture perfect. Sucky things happen sometimes.
Does it mean I don't get angry? Of course I get angry! I stomp around sometimes, both physically and verbally. Sometimes I am one large cloud of bad attitude, on my way to rain on somebody's parade. I'm still human, remember? I get to do that whole “range of human emotions” thing that Willow got so freaked out about in Season Six Buffy.
Okay, so I've been long-winded. I'm winding down. My point is, bad—well, unsavory—things happen to me, too. It's part of the experience, as long as we are on the Wheel. The best that I can do is to live through them with grace, and to take the lesson as a gift.
And if I have to do some stomping around and breaking things, I make sure I create a safe way to get the emotions out of my body and into the world, where they can dissipate into the earth. Otherwise...well, that's the subject of another post.
Thanks for reading. Namaste.
Want to schedule a reading? Your life makes more sense to me than mine.
Anyway—I mention it here because sometimes, when things like this happen, people ask: Well, how did that happen? You're psychic, right? Didn't you know?
Yes, I am psychic. I have worked to develop this ability on several levels. Here are some examples:
I've worked to understand what my signals mean. A lot of the time, I hear information via a spoken voice, or see a message as a written statement. These things are normally pretty clear—but not every message says exactly what it means. Sometimes, I get symbols or images that I have to interpret. These are frequently unique to each individual. My clients hear me trying to work out the meanings to these puzzles. We laugh about it together, after I have solved them.
I've worked to learn how to work with my abilities in ways that are compassionate and meaningful. That's why I don't have the winning lottery numbers every week (although I'm looking forward to having those). My work here is to use my gifts to help other people. It would be an abuse of those gifts to spend my time just looking for ways to gain from it.
And (arguably) most functionally important:
I've worked to hold the ability separate from my everyday life. That means I've worked really hard to determine when it's okay for me to be available (when I have enough energy; when I have the attention to spare; when I can be compassionate and loving, etc.), and when I need to shut down the information coming from my third eye. I don't want to be bombarded with information just walking down the street, or standing behind somebody in the line at the grocery store. It's true that there are still days when I know painful, funny, or embarrassing things about total strangers, out of nowhere—but that happens far less frequently now than it used to.
There are more ways that I've learned to work with my psychic gifts, but I'm going to stop there for now. That's saying a lot.
Nowhere in those does it state anything about needing, or wanting, to be “on” all the time. That's because I don't.
Whether you are a casual moviegoer who has enjoyed the recent influx of fantasy-themed films, or a dedicated lover of the fantasy and science-fiction field, you likely recognize the old trope: access to a constant stream information can destroy a person's sanity. In one old Tom Baker-era Dr. Who, for example, a fellow entered a beam of light containing all knowledge, and essentially, his brains melted and leaked out his ears. That can be what it feels like, if I don't learn how to turn off my abilities.
Which leads me to a delicate point: I don't want to have people around me that I have to be worried about. People that I have to scan, or interpret, or wonder about, are too much. I don't want to have to be “on” all the time. That's too much work, on physical and emotional levels, both. I have to trust that the people around me are “safe” people. If I constantly have to consider their motives, then I don't need to be around them.
I am, indeed, psychic. And I do want to have positive things happen to me, of course; it would seem that I have a leg up on that happening. But, just as these abilities are not given to me to identify the winning horses, I'm not supposed to track down and avoid everything that looks like trouble. Does that mean I throw myself into bad situations? Of course not! It's just a misuse of my talent to try and live in a Mr. Rogers world.
There's another point that I should mention here, too. It's a little embarrassing, so I guess I'll just say it fast, with my eyes closed: Sometimes I'm just wrong about people. Sometimes their perfume/cologne, or their guileless eyes, or the corner of a crooked smile, reminds me of someone I used to know, or a character I read about—or one that I created—and I allow myself to hear what I want them to be saying, as opposed to what is actually falling out of their mouths. Or something.
I'm not immune to basic human desires. We all want to be liked, to be nurtured; to connect with other people. That is not any different for me just because I have this ability. I have a big singing voice, too. Neither one of these things changes the bottom line.
As a matter of fact—while I help reveal dearly-held secrets about perfect strangers every day, I am pretty uncertain about my own life. My pet theory about this is that I can rarely read for myself because I can't get objectivity. Being able to step away from emotional entanglement with the information is crucial to giving a quality reading—and of course I have no objectivity about my own life.
The more intimate time (watching television, sharing meals, and so on) I spend with friends and acquaintances, the less likely I am to be able to read for them in a comprehensive kind of way; the more likely it is that something will be skewed during the course of the reading. It's as though the wiring goes wonky, just like what happens to the watches that I used to try to wear. (I've given up on wearing them now. It never ends well.)
At the end of the day, I'm still just a girl with a gift. While I work to make the use of my gift an extension of my spirituality, I am not at a place where I see through the lens of compassion all of the time. I don't see through the lens of my third eye all the time, either. I don't think I would want to have all of people's foibles revealed.
I don't see bad things happening as a reason for me to use my abilities more comprehensively, or try to make everything in my life picture perfect. Sucky things happen sometimes.
Does it mean I don't get angry? Of course I get angry! I stomp around sometimes, both physically and verbally. Sometimes I am one large cloud of bad attitude, on my way to rain on somebody's parade. I'm still human, remember? I get to do that whole “range of human emotions” thing that Willow got so freaked out about in Season Six Buffy.
Okay, so I've been long-winded. I'm winding down. My point is, bad—well, unsavory—things happen to me, too. It's part of the experience, as long as we are on the Wheel. The best that I can do is to live through them with grace, and to take the lesson as a gift.
And if I have to do some stomping around and breaking things, I make sure I create a safe way to get the emotions out of my body and into the world, where they can dissipate into the earth. Otherwise...well, that's the subject of another post.
Thanks for reading. Namaste.
Want to schedule a reading? Your life makes more sense to me than mine.
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