I adore writing about intuitive development, but I tend to perform that task in a rather random manner. I know I have not shared today’s gems with you, though. So, sit your crack down, and prepare to learn.
So there are many activities one can undertake to develop intuition/psychic ability/whatnot such as that. Practicing, journaling, blah, blah and blah are all helpful. One thing I think many folks don’t mention is that you need to keep your own energy moving in order to read and/or connect with energy. If your auric field is constipated, pour it a heaping dose of invisible Milk of Magnesia by moving your body. Continue reading “Intuitive Development: Yet More Good Stuff”→
Let us begin by defining what the sod a “good vibe” is. It is energy that causes happiness, glee, tomfoolery, etc. Most of us can determine with small effort that a dog, especially one as handsome as my nephew Benny, is a purveyor of good vibes. What are some other people, items, or actions that can envelope ourselves and others in stellar energy? Here are some of my faves:
My Great Pyrenees nephew, Benny
Sending others a silent blessing. The one I recite in my head most often is “May you be happy, may you be well, may you be peaceful and at ease.” As I hear myself thinking this, I surround the person in white light. I have zero scientific evidence that this does squat for the recipient, but so what? It certainly isn’t harmful, and my heart lifts when I engage in this practice.
This dismal, gray, saggy time of year sucks the laughter out of many. Add the political maelstrom the U.S. is currently experiencing, and the ability to laugh really heads to hell in a hand basket. If that isn’t chapping your ass, then something else probably is–a loved one diagnosed with cancer, your boss is an old bat (or bastard), etc, etc. If we allow it, life will drain us of our joy juice. Please don’t let that happen. Find some way to laugh. Even for a minute, if you can, or at least give it a shot.
When life is too frightening, too bewildering, the one thing we can always bank on is that laughter will make us feel better at least temporarily. It is like an IV of glee and glitter for your soul. Laughter is free. Snicker at some Three Stooges on Youtube, hang out with your bestie whose sense of humor is superb, listen to a laugh track…..whatever it takes! Can’t think of anything that could garner a guffaw right now? What used to make you laugh? How can you access that in the current moment?
Kinda wacky photo of me, isn’t it? It is several years old, but that strange expression pretty much describes how many of us are feeling in these few days left before Nov. 8. My election day plans incorporate work, friends, spirituality and wine–and HELL YEAH I’m voting too–so that I don’t waste my time fretting and foaming at the mouth about what life might be like if the Pumpkin Head is elected. But what about the days immediately following election day? Regardless of who wins, it isn’t likely to be a peaceful, serene time which will provide us with fond memories we will adore recalling when we are geezers. Nope. Not at all. So how to manage that best so that we don’t just survive that stress, but we surTHRIVE it? (surthirve is a word I created to express not only getting through a tough time, but thriving during it as well.)
Two or three weeks ago, I was going to write a blog thanking Donald Trump (who shall henceforth be known as DT). Was I going to thank him for being a gargantuan pustule upon the ass cheeks of America? No, I considered thanking him for the abundant opportunities for spiritual growth he and his supporters offer. Then his bevy of sexual assaults were revealed….and he bragged about them. I went.ape.shit. Screw thanking the F@#$^ Son of a @#$%! As one who has surthrived (one who not only survives an atrocity, but thrives in spite of it) being raped at gunpoint, I have an extra dose of venom for …ahem….humans (I use that term loosely in this situation) who commit violence upon innocent people.
DT was already at the top of my shit list when the tape of his confession was discovered, but at this point, I began to feel intense hatred toward him. Then the hatred spread to those who were STILL going to support him! Not only had he called vets with PTSD “not strong enough to handle it”, made fun of a disabled person to the man’s face, and on down the line of reprehensible actions and words, but this! Sexually assaulting women! Screw my spiritual growth; my heart and consciousness were shrinking with hatred. Sadness and befuddlement too, but a veritable boatload of hate. I was so rattled that I had to talk to my counselor because my peace of mind was blown to bits.
So you may have read how my delectable spousal unit and I met. What a heartwarming tale it is!
Meeting someone you are bananas about (and who reciprocates the affection) doesn’t happen every day, but it does occur. It is a bit more scarce for that affection to actually last. In our almost 17 years together, we have watched many of our friends’s marriages go belly up. We have had our share of scary times, but managed to weather them and be all the stronger–both individually and as a couple.
How the bloody sod have we accomplished this? It goes like this:
We agree to disagree. It is that simple. We pretty much agree on most things, but not on some. Whoopy de do0!
I have the most bitchin’, fantabulous hubby a chick could ever want! After years of dating both dreamboats and douche nozzles, how did I snag this delightful specimen when I was at the ripe old age of 32? Well, here are the 3 actions I took……
The very first action I took was no longer giving a shit if I was married. Before Jim, I was with the dude I thought would be my matrimonial mate–oh my goodness, he was divine, our relationship was sublime, and the wedding bells were ringing loudly in my ears-DING! DONG! DING! DONG! In reality, the only ding dong in this picture was me; our fire fizzled for reasons still unknown to me now (almost 20 years later), I ended it, and commenced on my path of Being A Bitter Bitch Toward All Those with a Penis. Matrimony, schmatrimony-I tossed that idea right into the crapper.
Most days, my life as a psychic medium is fairly standard. Read energy, spirit guides show up (or don’t), “dead” people talk (or don’t), and on down the line. There are mighty comical moments, heartbreaking conversations, maybe aliens show up as spirit guides, but the process itself remains the same. Nothing bizarre typically occurs with me, either, as I do this thing called life. Except yesterday. That 16 hour period of existence after rising and shining was unlike anything else I have witnessed.
Now what can be so damn strange to someone who routinely chats with animals? This. This is what was so damn strange: spontaneous moments of how I died in past lives just showing up out of the blue. Vividly.
As I pondered my inspiration for this blog, a phrase from my Nicheren Buddhist practice popped into my brain. “Changing poison into medicine.” Same concept as making lemonade when Life hands ya a large bag of lemons, but with a twist: Sometimes we don’t know what is poison, and what is medicine. My topic isn’t about merely making the best of a bad situation–it is about viewing those lemons in an entirely different light. “Oh joy,” you think, “I am tired of being an old bitch (or bastard) today. What might this brilliant author (snort!!!) have to teach me?”
There be a bevy of merde hitting the fan currently. I do not update myself regularly about the antics of the stars and moon and planets, but I do know they affect us. I am unsure if we can blame them (thank them?) for the situation at hand, or what the deal is precisely. All I am aware of is that many, many of us are leaving behind life as we knew it, releasing old gunk that has held us back, and are experiencing birthing pains of our new selves. Now I never popped an offspring, but I can’t say it looks like a walk in the park. And neither is this period of time.