I Don’t Need a Crystal Ball

I’ve done a bit of reading on psychic abilities in general of late, spurred after rereading Stephen King’s Carrie.

carrie nel paperback stephen king

According to the research I’ve done, everyone possesses psychic abilities, but not everyone hones the skills.  Probably not a bad thing, because if I had pyrokinetic abilities, I think a lot people I dislike would be sitting in hot-seats every day.

Wikipedia has a long list of notable psychic abilities which I am keen to learn more about, but for now, I want to discuss one in particular.

Precognition. Or as it’s more familiarly known, premonition.

premonition

I have this ability, but it is not well whetted. Honestly, I’m not sure if I want it to be sharpened given that every foreboding I’ve had has been a sign of something bad. Only one has signalled death, the others all related to something less fatal, like illness, job loss or car accidents.

In my case, I get feelings of dread and angst, and I know – soon I’m going to hear bad news about someone I care about. I don’t always know who, but sure as the sun that rises in the morning, these feelings are proved right, time after time.

I seldom talk about this specific intuition because I know many people perceive psychic capabilities to be evil, or even simply, a bunch of hooey.  Tina and I spoke about it a while ago though, because I had a feeling that something was amiss with her.  I didn’t know what it was, but I knew something was off.  Turns out her relationship was on the rocks, despite it being the perfect proverbial husband-two-point-five-kids-two-dogs-manicured-lawn-and-a-white-picket-fence-picture. She sobbed as she shared the trials of months gone by.  My heart went out to her and while there was nothing I could do to comfort her, I knew she was grateful to have me there, if only to listen.

Last week, again, I was in a bad space.  There was no definitive reason for me to feel down.  Sure, I’d had a bit of a disagreement with my boss, but it isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. I felt restless, and overwhelmingly sad, yet I didn’t cry.  I knew I would hear ill tidings at some stage in the future. I couldn’t weep (although the tears would have been cathartic), because I didn’t know what I’d be crying about.  I also had a panic attack, for the first time in almost ten months. This time though, on Thursday night, it was in my sleep. I woke up drenched in perspiration, my hair wet, as if I’d been swimming and tears streaming down my cheeks, with Jasmine ringing in my mind.  Shallow breaths racked my lungs and my pulse would have rivalled a racehorse at Ascot. After that, I slept like the dead, for six-, uninterrupted hours (which is a record for me!). I was happy for the rest, because when I woke on Friday morning, I felt better. The feeling of being caged in had lifted.  Had my premonition been a false alarm?

No. It hadn’t.

Yesterday I received word that Jasmine, a close friend who had surgery for cancer not too long ago, had been readmitted to hospital, this time with shortness of breath and chest pains.  We have known each other for twenty-five years, but our lives took different paths and while we stayed in touch, it is only recently that we really reconnected.  She’s been someone I have been able to confide in about certain things.  As soon as I heard what had happened, I found myself thinking that’s why you felt so awful.

I’ve spoke to her earlier.  She’s doing better and is taking it easy.  So, for now, my being is at peace.  There is calm, happiness and joy in my spirit, which is the way I prefer it.

Here’s to a new week! Let hope, gratitude, mercy, kindness, forgiveness and love abound.  Let’s drive the darkness out with positivity 😀

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gut Feelings…

A mere two weeks ago, I blogged about this very topic. If you want to read that post, it can be found here.

Premonitions.

Forebodings.

Warnings.

Omens.

Signs.

Call them what you like, they’re never good. There is always something dark attached to these feelings of impending dread.

This morning my mom phoned me on my direct office line, with a simple question: “Are you at work with your own car, or did you travel with Nikita.”

“Nikita, why?”

“It’s just a question.”

“No Bean, it’s not just a question. You wouldn’t be asking without some sort of reason.”

She proceeded to tell me that for the past two days she’s seen shadowy figures passing by her bedroom window, or door. I’ve seen one before too, shortly before Malcolm died, so I don’t merely want to dismiss her feelings, because I believe they hold some merit.

I’ve done a lot of reading about Shadow People, which as defined by Wikipedia are:

“A shadow person is the perception of a patch of shadow as a living, humanoid figure, particularly as interpreted by believers in the paranormal or supernatural as the presence of a spirit or other entity.”

shadow

They generally are associated with sleep paralysis. The night I saw mine, I woke up to see the figure at the foot of my bed. I was terrified, but it merely put a finger to its lips and I heard ssshhhh and it walked through the door. Gone. Disappeared into thin air. I knew something was wrong and mentioned it to my parents as I had a sick aunt at the time. It never crossed my mind that Malcolm might be coming to say goodbye.

The Bean sees them when she’s awake, and her sense of them extends beyond merely seeing them.
This morning, after her daily quiet time, she felt anxious about me and got a strong smell of my perfume.

“I’m so worried for me, Chickpea.”

“Don’t worry, Bean. I’m fine. My car is at home.”

“Okay, just tell Nikita to drive safely. Please. Promise me.”

The distress in her voice was tangible.

“I will. Promise.”

As much as I tried to downplay it and reassure her that everything is fine, because it is, it does have me wondering…

I told Nikita and the poor woman is now as high-strung as a faulty Jack-in-the-Box.

We’re taking it seriously though. I will let my mom know when I am home.