Day Eighty-Six (86): Tuesday, May 25th, 2010
Psychics and shamans have traditionally been people who claim to sense the unseen, see into the future (divination), work with the supernatural in lower or higher realms of existence, or have the ability to influence unseen energies or spirits through spells, incantations, magic dream work, music, ecstatic trances, and sacred dance. Ancient peoples called psychics and shamans by other names, medicine man/woman, priest/priestess, or sorcerer/sorceress, necromancer, and magician, for example, depending upon their particular cultures. Often shamans occupied places of high position within a village or culture.
Many people have asked me how my psychic/intuitive gifts work? Where do they come from? Are they inherited? Briefly here, I will attempt to explain for those who want to know.
First, let me say, I honestly believe 98% of the population have psychic gifts. Perhaps it is 100%, nevertheless, I’ve met a couple who — whether it be lack of education, socially or tradition, or other factors — seem devoid of any inner guidance system at all; thus, I say 98%.
Psychic gifts manifest is various ways and by many different names. For example, knowing who is calling on the telephone before it rings, or without looking at the caller ID. Or much more major intuitive messages such as the dozens or hundreds of stories of September 11th, 2001 — when many people decided to not go to work at the World Trade Center, or travel to New York. In fact, that’s my story!
From May 2000 through May 2004, I lived in Los Angeles, California. At the beginning of September 2001, my live-in boyfriend, Fredy Adolfo Gonzalez De Leon, had received his workers compensation after a two or so year battle. It was approximately $35,000.00.
We were living in a motel and had, with the money, finally planned to move to our own apartment. Fredy was tired of hearing me talk about New York and how much I loved it. He also was interested in seeing New York and Washington DC. Particularly the Pentagon and in New York, The World Trade Center.
September 9th, 2001 Fredy and I were sitting in our hotel room and contemplating our move . . . and having a little fun on some of the money. We had a rough year together, financially. Fredy and I had been together from September 9, 2000. So, he told me that anniversary morning that he wanted us to go to New York the next day. He would buy us the tickets that day, the 9th, and we could leave for New York on September 10th.
I missed New York terribly and really had been talking, for months about the money and going back “home” for a visit. So, yes, I was interested in this spur of the moment plan. Yet, I had gained a lot of weight since my departure from NYC in 1997 and two weeks before, in Burbank, CA, I had just joined Weight Watchers. I thought about the amazing offer for a couple of hours, felt queasy (actually) and then, I told Fredy.
“Not now, I’m too fat and don’t want my friends to see me fat. We’ll do it later in the year.”
Fredy said fine and reminded me he had made the offer.
On the morning of September 11th, I awoke to the newscast of the first tower being hit. Fredy was watching it. I asked him why he was watching such an awful movie . . . and he pointed out it was LIVE!!! I was crying and was saying, this is planned, someone is going to hit the other tower. As I said it to Fredy, the 2nd plane flew into the 2nd tower!
Another strange note about that . . . I lived in New York from 1984 to 1989 and again from 1992-1997. I had recurrent dreams, nightmares, really, for all those years of being in an upper floor of the WTC, and seeing fire and I would be holding onto the carpet as the building swayed uncontrollably toward the water and the other buildings.
Since 9/11/2001, those dreams have ceased.
My mother tells stories, one in particular, about her father, Norman Collins, reading the stars.
My mother was very young, obviously and was standing outside in her home of Ashland, Kentucky with her father. He was reading the stars to her.
He said to Mom, “In six weeks the President will die in the White House.”
Six weeks later, President Roosevelt died in the White House.
My mother, of course, calls her gifts “intuitive” and they have always made me insane. Why? Well, as a child, my mother would always share her feelings, out loud, to my friends, family and strangers! I found it embarrassing and sometimes just plain cruel. Mind you, my mother is about honesty. And she doesn’t mince her words! Nor does she have any tact. What pissed me off the most . . . she was usually right on the money!!!
I’d bring a friend home, on occasion (if I was too embarrassed) and my mother would take one look at him or her and say, out loud, “That girl is not your friend.”
I’d be insulted and my friend would be, too. More often than not, I would try to defy my mother’s prediction and continue to hang out with the friend. And lo and behold, a month or more later, the friend would betray me in some way. Mom was always right on the money.
Of course, Mom gave me positive statements, too with “I like him, he’s a good guy.” She adored my high school boyfriend, Vincent Townsend. He and I were together for three years.
Mom is now 78-years-old and still says embarrassing things. There are stories that would make most of you freak out, blush or run and hide in some rural commune. Although, if you have met my mother or you do . . . trust me, everyone, in the long run, loves her! I guess a Southern accent makes the insults seem funny or less biting. Still, my mother does, after a long dose, tend to get on peoples’ nerves. You think I talk a lot?! Meet Verna, or as her nieces and nephews call her “Aunt Dolly”!
I come from a long line of drunks, talkers and nut cases. Don’t say a thing to me about that! You cannot be crazy if you know you are, right? I know I am . . .
How does my gift(s) work? I would say, basically, I see pictures and movies in my head. They tend to be accurate and right on the money. Perhaps, as my mother’s instincts tell her. Although, generally, I am more tactful (I hope!).
I am also clairaudient and clairvoyant. I hear words in my head . . .they are like my own thoughts, yet different. Thus, I can distinguish from my own words and those from a higher place. And yes, I see dead people and spirits . . . all the time, walking around like everyone else. [I borrowed that from SIXTH SENSE]. I would say, though, as I got older, it’s more like I sense them in a mental vision.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes, I see them, too. Nevertheless, not exactly like GHOST WHISPERER clear. They would be more faded looking . . . somewhat see-through.
For now, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. More later . . .