Yes, I have a crystal ball.
Ever wanted to know if someone could predict your future? There’s nothing more fascinating to us than the future: planning for it, saving for it, thinking about it and yes, even predicting it. Some people, including me, are fascinated by people who claim they can see the future.
If this is where I lose you, I understand. Not everyone thinks this is possible and some even think it’s demonic. I do think it’s possible and have had numerous experiences to back my belief up. Since a few of you have asked, I’m going to talk a little about them.
The underpinning of my belief is that we’re a primitive society and there’s much we don’t know about the way things work.
What?! You might protest. We’re technologically advanced! We have Google! Ipads!
Yeah, that’s what we all thought when we saw the first calculator. Looking back, we can see how far we’ve come. But we’re always going to be moving forward on that same path and it would be misguided to think we know how anything really works. Including time and space. Just ask Albert Einstein.
Because I believe we have a lot to learn, my mind is open to things that can not be explained today. So that’s my base line belief, the one that allows me to embrace possibility.
When I was a little girl I could read adults’ minds most of the time. This was very disturbing, not because of what I learned, but because I thought everyone could do this. And that meant adults could read MY mind, too. Oh, that was upsetting! I remember this distinctly.
Here’s where the story really begins
In time those thoughts dissipated, but I remained super-intuitive about people and am still able to read moods and feelings pretty easily. I’ve got a huge BS detector and usually tell when someone is lying. Yes, people I know in real life, you can run, but you can not hide: I do this with you all the time!
In the mid-1980s I was freelancing for a local business publication. My second marriage was failing and I’d left my husband, but we were still seeing each other. I had a full-time PR job, but freelance writing was my passion at the time. One day my editor asked me to visit a well-known local gypsy psychic and ask her how the local elections would pan out.
I made an appointment under my writing name, which my employer insisted upon my using to freelance, since I was also a company spokesperson. I was wearing my wedding rings, even though my husband and I were living apart.
She ushered me into a room full of religious icons that looked Catholic to me. We sat at a small table and I began to ask questions.
“I don’t predict political events,” she told me. “But let me read your cards.”
I demurred—I’d never had a tarot reading, never even thought about it. But she insisted and I thought, “Oh, what the hell. I’m here.”
She laid out a tarot pattern and then said:
“You’re separated from your husband.”
That got my attention. I was wearing my wedding rings. The name under which I booked the appointment was my writing name, not my real name and even my real name was not my husband’s, as I retained my birth name. It was unlikely she knew anything about my life.
“Are you renting or did you buy a place?”
I was tempted to say, You’re the psychic, you tell me. But I didn’t.
I had rented a condo but until our separation I had been living in a house we’d built.
“Renting.” That’s all I said.
“Well,” she said. “don’t buy a place. You’re leaving town. Moving.”
No, I wasn’t. I had no plans to move. Where would I go? I had two jobs and a life built over 12 years in my city. I was becoming a big fish in a small pond, actually.
“Oh, but you are. You are moving. You’re going on a trip in a few weeks, right?”
I was. A business trip.
“On that trip you will meet someone who will be the catalyst for your move.” She then described him.
I thanked her for the free reading and left. I never got my story, but my girlfriends and I got a good laugh.
Two weeks later I left for West Palm Beach. It was a business conference. In the exhibition hall I met a man who looked like the description I’d been given. He put the full court press on me to come to California to talk with him about partnering in a business.
A few weeks later I saw California for the first time. Two months later I had moved. The business deal with him went south quickly, but the gypsy had been right: the man I met had been the catalyst for my move.
All of my girlfriend called for readings.
Now, you could say that the reading predisposed me to move across country. But the fact is that making a cross-country move alone is no small thing. Leaving a man I thought I loved was no easy matter. I don’t look too closely at all the “rational” explanations because there was no rational reason for me to move 3,000 miles away to a place where I knew no one.
That was my first experience with a psychic. But not my last.
My acclimation to California was difficult. As the business deal went south, I found it nearly impossible to get a job in high tech. Tech experience was necessary to get a job but without a job I couldn’t get the experience. I went back to my old city for a visit and called on the gypsy.
“I’m thinking about coming back,” I told her.
“No,” she said. “There is nothing for you here. Nothing.”
And she was right. I remained in California.
Like Columbus, I sought a new world
As years passed I wasn’t exactly a psychic groupie, but slowly, I began to explore that world. Very slowly, with an open mind but a show me attitude. I sought definitive proof. I found scam artists and I also found people who were accurate. I wasn’t exactly a pushover in this arena and I’m still not. By nature I’m an observer and I watch closely. There are times when I have my reservations and then there are times when there is no rational explanation for how something is known.
I’ve seen a lot of John Edward, the medium who had a couple of TV shows. I’ve seen him in groups as large as 2,000 and as small as 11. Except for my very first time, I am always read. Always. The most obscure things come up, too. Accurate.
John’s the real deal.
A couple years ago sister-in-love and I went to NY for an 11-person reading in John’s town. In the months before the reading, an unbidden thought came into my mind.
“What if this reading is mostly for her? What if I go all this way at all this expense and it’s not for me?” I couldn’t shake the thought. I have to be okay with it, came into my head. Over and over.
In fact, the reading was mostly for her, but it was primarily about my family’s weirdness – far too personal to blog about— and it was uncannily accurate. She and I still talk about it. For example, who would know her father had only one eye? He’d been gone for decades.
Looking back, it was clear that I was being told that this reading would be mostly for her and that I should not resent it. Sure, you can say that it was my worry and that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. It’s possible. I think it was a message meant to prepare me. The reason? Because from time to time I’m given messages and always, always, the reason comes out later.
For years I never talked about any of this, really. But as I’ve grown older I’ve also grown in confidence about my beliefs and my faith. Even my husband—formerly an atheist—has shifted on the continuum to “agnostic.”
“Either there’s something to this, or you’re someone who has an awful lot of coincidences in her life,” he says now. Because he’s seen much of this happen. First hand.
Like the day last year when we dropped in on a card reader in Capitola and she predicted something that happened that afternoon.
More on that tomorrow. I am in Portland, OR for the Fourth Annual Afterlife Conference I’ll be here through Sunday and will share my experiences when I return.