Sometimes I want to throw this culture right on its ear!

I picked up the dictionary this morning to check the spelling of clairaudience and read: The SUPPOSED ability to perceive and understand sounds from a distance without actually hearing them.

I continued.

Clairvoyance: The SUPPOSED ability to perceive things that are not in sight or that can not be seen. Keen perception and insight.

I looked up mathematician, which is defined as an expert or specialist in mathematics.  Why doesn’t it say a SUPPOSED expert or specialist in the field of mathematics? What a rip!

Thirteen years ago I wrote a memoir. My therapist asked me to do it. Go ahead, she said, write it all down. It will be good for you, give you insight.

And so I did. I took a year and wrote the whole thing out. And you know what she said when she read it? This is excellent. I’d like you to write my memoir when I am ready. Your book could really help people, and would sell if you’d just take the spiritual parts out.

It has taken most of my life to share who I am with people. I have just listed a few of the reasons why.

The fricken dictionary that informs the whole English speaking culture is giving me a bad rap. This is so exhausting. I read a book about a psychic that grew up in a family that supported and encouraged her skills. What a concept.

In March of 1993, my mother’s husband Joe was dying. I was leaving to teach a morning class when I was stopped by the feeling of a spirit voice trying to talk with me. His photo on the mantel was radiating light, so I sat down, closed my eyes and began to listen. I knew he was in the hospital with cancer and taking morphine to endure. I figured he was in too much pain to stay in his body, so he’d come for a visit. Sure enough, when I closed my eyes his face loomed before me. I’m going to die before my birthday he said. I need you to prepare your mother. We visited and I agreed but felt uneasy with the task. As far as my family was concerned, I had never been employed because my healing work did not show up for them; they had no frame of reference for it. This was going to be tricky. I was also a little angry because Joe himself had often said, I don’t believe any of that stuff. It’s not real, none of it! Now he was asking for a favor. The rejection of my core essence has always hurt, but in all fairness, if I was not living with one foot in the spirit world, I would probably not believe it either.

Joe had two weeks before his birthday. I called my mom to see how she was doing , not sure how to bring the subject up. We were talking about Joe’s condition and his unrelenting pain, when she surprised me. Do you get anything about that, she asked? I wondered what she meant. You know, psychically.  I couldn’t believe my ears. As a matter of fact, I have a lot to say about it, because his spirit came to visit and asked me to prepare you for his passing. He is going to go before his birthday but needs you to release him.  You need to tell him it’s okay to move into the light and that you are ready to let him go. He needs to hear that from you. He also wants you to give something he loved and valued away, to move it out of the house. You can decide what that is.

She listened and when we rang off, I felt a sense of personal healing at being allowed a conversation that would have been otherwise impossible. Joe’s birthday was on the 8^th and he died on the 3^rd. I returned home as requested and stayed close to my mother to comfort her. As usual she did things right, with no detail overlooked. Always stately in her approach to life, the gathering reminded me more of a coronation ceremony for a queen, than a funeral. People greeted her, handed her roses and bowed their respects and regrets, friends were in abundant supply.

That’s the story of Joe, but if old Mr. Webster comes calling, I’m going to make him look up the definition of Eating Crow, (to undergo the humiliation of having to retract a statement, admit an error). I’ll require a few revisions in his reference books.