The Psychic Super-Hotline

I know there are many who would say they don't believe in any kind of psychic connection between people but these connections manifest themselves regularly in my life.

I've mentioned that recently I've been on a de-cluttering mission. Last week I worked on our office/library, weeding through books and papers and filling boxes for donation to Goodwill. I came across things that reminded me of people I hadn't heard from in quite awhile. I thought about them and the memories connected with the books and items they'd given me.

There was a jade amulet, a gift from my friend and co-worker Brooke who I haven't heard from in almost two years. She taught me important lessons about loving and letting go, allowing people to grow without stifling them. She's an old soul in a not-so-old body.

Tucked on the bottom bookshelf was a book from an old online buddy. It was a book about one woman's battle with Lupus and Marda had sent it to me shortly after I was diagnosed 12 years ago. I hadn't heard from her in over a year.

One book had a piece of white paper sticking out from the pages. It was one of my favorite sentences (yes, I have favorite sentences), written by Jesse White Crow.


In a minute the coyote is over by the dry creek bed singing it's painful woes to a night that makes all of creation wish they'd mastered fire.


I'd followed his online journal for years as he walked across America and posted from public libraries. In all those years we'd only had one communication between us. I'd written him a letter and he'd sent me a postcard from the road.

I spent time thinking about each of these people and how they'd impacted my life. And for those of you who don't believe in the Psychic Super-Hotline....... within one week I heard from each one of those people!

Jesse's postcard was in the mail today and it was the most amazing connection of all, not only because we'd only communicated once and that was several years, but because of what happened today and how important it was for me to find his precious words in my mailbox.

Today I kept a doctor's appointment where they attached leads to my hands and legs and shot electric pulses through my nerves!! Yikes. I returned home and spent several hours laying porcelain tile. The Other Mother then announced that she was in a great deal of pain in her elbow, radiating down to her hand. Off to her doctor we flew and it was determined that she'll need an x-ray tomorrow.

We walked in the door to the news that the Farmer's cousin's wife had suffered an aneurysm and will not survive. She just turned 61 and was looking forward to retirement.

And that is why all those people contacted me out of the blue. Every time a rough patch is approaching people appear in advance to give me their positive energy to help me through. That's exactly what has happened in this case.

I will take the initiative to share with you something from Jesse White Crow's journey. It was written on the road and I am trusting that he would want me to share with you.

FINDERS KEEPERS
In the beginning of this walk I believed that I was always finding just what I needed on the side of the road. When I lost my titanum mug I found a plastic cup the same day which carried me over until my cup was found and flown to me a month later. In New England's winter, when I needed cover from snow and sleeting rain on my hands that held my walking sticks, I found disguarded rain pants I quickly cut the legs from to hood my frozen fingers. This is still the truth of the walk: what I need will come. The difference now is that I am unsure if I am passing a diamond or a stone. I want to save everything. Of course this is ridiculas when everything that I glean has to be attached to my shoulders. Something inside has readjusted. Now when I see homeless people I understand the shopping cart of seemingly useless trash piled high. They too are afraid--or is it concern, that the twine we pass today may very well be the belt we wear tomorrow? Knowing this tendency is stooped over in me to gather the next treasure, I talk myself on past articles that beg to wander these miles with me. They know that once I get home...wherever home will one day be, I will be less inclined to adopt all that I see by the roadside. Everything that I have gathered is just about impossible for me to part with once we have miles of history together. We become related, friends, parts of each other, still hoping to make sense, to fit in, to be needed.
My ex-wife had the same feelings for stuffed animals and dolls. I used to laugh in gentle cruelity as she struggled past a doll at the bottom of a box left over from someone's tag sale. I knew the soiled painted face would find it's way home to our china cabinet at the bottom of the stairs where it would sit with the other foster dolls and animals that seemed to smile out over empty wine glasses with foggy eyes full of hope.
Life gives us practice when we are not surrounded by the ones we love, or will love, we are given just enough to care for so the heart stays familiar with the feeling of being wanted....and showing others we want them.


I am stunned by his talent. Please visit White Crow Walking and read for yourself.