The reason I’m writing this long winded post is — the past week or so I’ve had some weird experiences. I was watching the Junos, and even though I only recognized a few names of the artists, I predicted nearly all the wins correctly. I’ve predicted how conversations are going to go online. I’ve even predicted correct dates and times of appointments – like a visit with my dad scheduled on the same day I have to be at an appointment I can’t miss.
When I was younger, I used to play this game that I’d call “prediction”. It started off as harmless. Like if the phone rang – I could tell who was calling without looking at the phone. It only worked with a few people that I was connected to – like my mom, or boyfriend, or close friends.
As time went on and I opened myself up to more things, I started experimenting with this – I don’t even know what to call it. Or what it even is – I’m not even sure I believe in psychic abilities.
Even at work, I had the “elevator game” – we had four elevators to choose from. And I would stand in front of the elevator door I thought was going to open next – and most of the time – I was right.
Unless I was stressed out or extremely tired. On these days – that’s when electrical equipment just failed on me. Elevator glitches. Computer glitches. Power failures. Copier jams. You name it – it would break down.
I used to take the bus home from work from downtown when I lived on the southside. It was a good forty minute ride, sometimes an hour. I had plenty of time to kill and get lost in my head. I’d start people watching and try and predict their life stories.
The Prediction Games
“She works in an office, and is going home to her husband and two kids,” I’d say to myself.
“He is single, a life long bachelor, maybe works in the trades,” I said to myself about a man wearing coveralls carrying a lunch pail.
I remember one night, I was heading out to an event and I was thinking about who on the bus was going to the same event. I was much younger and more adventurous – I was dressed up in all black with a collar on. If you can imagine that. It wasn’t an in your face collar, it was a piece of jewelry and I quite liked it.
As I looked around the bus picking people to focus on – a young couple behind me started talking.
“I guess my uncle is going to some event tonight. He’s all dressed in leather and is selling stuff at one of the tables. He goes to these events on a regular basis. I don’t even know what the event is, but I can kind of guess,” he said.
I chuckled quietly to myself and listened for other conversations on the bus. I watched people as they talked. I could guess where people were going simply based on what outfits they had on.
Reading people has always been a gift. I’ve always been a bit of an empath and can pick up easily on energy and feelings.
I had a co-worker I was good friends with while working in a music store. When he dropped off his resume, I knew right away I liked him. He was friendly, intelligent, and cute too. And as I walked out of the store, I whispered to a female colleague, “too bad all the cute ones are gay,” and we laughed.
I gave his resume to the boss at the time and said, “I like him. You should hire him for the sales job.”
And sure enough – he was hired almost on the day of the interview. Imagine my shock when I learned he had a girlfriend – who he eventually got engaged to. I didn’t care – she was nice, he was a nice guy and we became fast friends.
Fast forward a couple of years later – he broke things off with his fiance and came out as gay.
Is it possible, my intuition picked up on his “gay vibes” before he knew? Or maybe I could pick up easily on his own insecurities and confusion? I don’t know. But I still chuckle about it today. He was just such a great guy, it didn’t matter. Sadly, we lost touch after I left that job.
I still have this “gift” today – very few people surprise me.
I believe that everyone has the gift of intuition but not everyone knows how to listen to what their “gut” is telling them. Some people think that intuition is like having a sixth sense. I’m not sure what intuition really is – but I know for me – there are just things that I know. It’s like I’ve received the knowledge from some unseen guide – I just know in my head that it’s true.
When it comes to reading people, it’s a gift and a curse. I often doubt myself and this leads me to trouble with people or in relationships. If I just listened to that first “vibe” – almost like a stab in the gut feeling – I know I could save myself a lot of heartache.
At work, I knew something was off and I ignored it longer than I should have. People started avoiding me. I was left out of meetings. Friends stopped chatting with me. I could hear whispered conversations when I walked by. I knew that either someone was spreading false information about me around the office – or they were just not happy with me for whatever reason. I think a lot of is – they thought I was making it up – being sick so much and was just trying to get out of work.
I ignored my gut instinct and this led to me being where I am today. Sometimes I’m just too trusting with people I think are my friends and I get burned in the end.
Same goes for my ex-boyfriends. I knew James was a lying scumbag, but yet, I gave him so many years, and more chances than anyone ever got. Ever. I was a sucker when it came to him.
Intuition only works when you trust it and listen to it.
Dreams are a doorway to between the two worlds – the physical world and the spirit world. It is a place for our ancestors to connect with us and send us messages from beyond.
In the world of Shamanism, important messages are often delivered to the Shaman in dream form or while they are in that altered state of consciousness. My mother has been a regular guest star in my dreams lately. And my ex, Trigger. I had a doozy of a dream about him last night.
Mom appeared to me in the dream the other night, “I was only dead for a minute. You have to believe me. I was only dead for a minute, and I moved on,” she said to me.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what happens when we die and whether we will see our family or loved ones again. I like to think that we do. My intuition is telling me that this is more than a dream. Somehow, my mother, has found a way to communicate with me.
Messages from beyond
It was my mother who told me I should write again. Back in 2017, I had a dream about her – that’s when I wrote my book “When I get to heaven” – I actually forgot about the dream until I re-read the book last month. (I’m still tweaking the book before I publish it again.)
In the dream, we had a conversation about writing. She had wanted to write a book about her life but didn’t know how and didn’t have the energy to finish it. She left notes everywhere for us to find – we are still finding them tucked into books and in her journals.
“I’ve missed you so much, I have so much to tell you!” she said to me in the dream.
I balked, took a step back. I had been having a lot of dreams about my mother, after she died – but they weren’t really my mother in the dreams. They were something… else. Something darker at the house – pretending to be my mother. I’m still convinced that whatever was reaching out to me in these dreams – is still at the house. I still have those type of dreams occasionally.
But this dream was different. It was lighter. Even the house was lighter. It was full of sunshine and she was in the kitchen doing her favorite thing – baking.
“I have so many plans. And I’ve been thinking of you. I’ve been working. I’ve been watching people. Watching over you and the family – like I wanted to,” she had a huge smile on her face and spoke faster – with excitement.
“I have all these notes, and things – I need to share them with you. I want to write – I need to get to work,” she said to me.
She showed me binders of notes that she had taken. There were BINDERS full of all her notes and memories of her life. There were names on the pieces of paper taped to the binders but I couldn’t read them.
“I’ve missed you so much, but I can’t wait to start working again…” she said.
She looked at me, took my hand and I felt warmth – not cold – warmth – and I felt loved.
“You need to write, my daughter, you need to write,” she said.
It was the last thing she said to me before I woke up from the dream.
And that’s when I started. I started blogging again. Not long after I finished the book, I started this blog. And I haven’t stopped.
Maybe it was just a dream. But it felt real. There are some things I just know – and I feel it in my heart like I had a real conversation with my mother that night. She had found her way to me and still does in her dreams.
Dreams are a magical doorway between the spirit world and the physical world – according to Shamanistic practices. There are legends and myths in every culture around the world and this is an ancient practice that has been around for nearly 100,000 years.
Am I a psychic? Is this intuition? Or does my mother really find her way to me while deep in slumberland? I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. But my gut, tells me to just – believe.