Friday, March 21, 2008

Psychic, Whats in a Word?


This word leaves some people cold. What images get conjured up in people minds? Some strange short woman with an accent you can’t identify, bangled ears, head wrapped in a turban, beckoning you from a dimly lit door way? A con artist store front where you are told you have been cursed by a witch and you have to pay $5000 to get rid of it?
Before you shell out a dirty 20, check references.


There are crooks in every business one must be careful not to let your need for help drive you into a place of desperation.

Terrifying…I guess that is why some of us call ourselves clairvoyant. Now that sounds special, sounds smarter, sounds less cheap, sounds a bit stuffy to me. Intuitive? Ok…let’s call a spade a spade.

Look we are psychics, the North American Encarta dictionary says “a person able to perceive that which is beyond the range of human senses, relating to the human mind, outside the sphere of scientific knowledge extraordinary sensitivity to non physical or supernatural forces”

I will tell you how the psychic part works for me.
If I sit with you and you tell me you are having a house problem. I will allow myself to see in my mind your house. Sometimes it is the exact color, and I allow the vision to unfold…I can see the house then I might see the drive way, and it seems to be sinking in, cracking, and now I know why you are having problems,…I can “see” that the structure is compromised and then I might hear “ you can fix it, and you must go the route of the law…there is something wrong with the agreement between the seller of the house or the contractor , and they both may be liable"

I have provided the information that on some level you needed …and we move on…working “outside the scientific knowledge, with extraordinary sensitivities”.
In a week or two, or sometimes even a year, you might tell me it was true.

The Presence of Pinky



Can you see what I see?

It hides in rooms where fear is the smell of the air, where no one can see it because of the buzzing highway of words, or where a distraction of hands are swatting irritating details of grand old stories bringing the past back to life.

More distraction like food, scuttled around for moving lips with heavy drink tossed down each throat to dim the eyes from seeing IT.


"IT", the F******g big ass pink pachyderm presence who has set up camp in the room.


I have been to homes where no one addressed the grandeur of this "being" taking up so much space in hearts and minds. So big that everyone does anything to avoid it.


Cousins Ruth's weight, the sexual tension between uncle Bob and sister Irene, the money John owes Jim, Diane's cancer, Daves affair, the fart that Fred sounded, daddy's drinking, the seething hate of a jealous woman.


The energy it takes to feed this beast is the energy of holding the space for it to be ignored. That's why it stays around.
Ignoring it feeds it, and it is happy to sit there waiting. Waiting for someone to acknowledge it and set it free.

Are we the animals in our own zoo? Caged by our abhorrent behavior, acting out with falsehoods, numbing pain with denial? Why are we holding our tongues, not setting free the truth? Name what it is and lets send Pinky packing.