Reluctant Psychic

My first post as a reluctant psychic.

There I said it. You know what bugs me? Here I go…

People that hide their true feelings behind being spiritual – and by the way this started WAY back with the phrase: Doctor, hear thyself.

Remember that?
The cobblers kids have bad shoes. Sigh, and my favorite… ever sit at a party and chat with a therapist or psychiatrist? I’m always trying to figure out if they’re trying to figure me out.

Most of the time, they’re nutty! But it’s the folks who volunteer for parking detail at psychic fairs that really make me laugh. Can you say, control issues? Wow, that’s the place to work them out.

And, sorry, the folks who are waiting for the spaceship to beam them up.

Sigh.

Then there are the “psychic” busters. My question is … Why bother?

Who cares? When I went to see my friends Marty and Michael after my father died, I was so relieved to hear from my father.

And then the time a young widow came to me, and I had no idea who she was or her circumstances. The message I got from her dead husband was, I was trying to get to you, that’s why I didn’t call. I thought I would survive.

She left my home at peace. Her husband had died in 9/11 and she always wondered why he never phoned her.

If therapy or making shoes for others or analyzing others floats your boat so be it.

My job is to support you in your journey. Gosh, isn’t that what we’re all doing?

There are days I don’t want to talk to dead people anymore than the locksmith wants to open one more door. But we’re all on our path.

Well, I’m going to go do a reading. Another door to unlock.

Peace out.