What The Psychic Knew

Her first memory was of something about to happen.  Too young to put it all together, these knowings were all she knew.  Just normal everyday occurrings.

Back in the days when she was a child, children were not honored with being a sensitive or an intuitive.  The same was true of a psychic. It has only been in contemporary times, that people will even discuss this publicly.  Imagine the confusion growing up with knowings but unable to share the visions. It is like growing up expressing only a portion of yourself. 

So she didn't share her abilities.  With anyone. As she grew into adulthood, once in a while they would slip out with her husband.  He was always fascinated by what she knew.  But it was never discussed. Then she had a premonition about the World Trade Center. She knew when it was happening and that it wasn't isolated to just one locale.
. 
 That is the difficult thing about tapping into energy.  Difficult in the sense that few understand or even believe what you are talking about.  People have been so brain washed by indoctrinized education in the public school system and colleges, they merely know what they are told to know. 

It is interesting that fewer and fewer will go to college now or in the future. People are slowly beginning to examine the cost of a so-called 'higher education.' They are equally slow to realize they have been given more scripts to learn.  Few have any bearing on the lives we lead, the jobs we have.

Does it really matter how a historian interprets things in the second millenium? Perhaps we will develop our intuitive side instead?

Psychics and intuitives are highly sentient beings. The information comes to them differently than one would expect.  It is a whole being experience, not limited to the brain. They feel highs and lows distinctly.  They clue into patterns quickly.  They cut through the chaff, want to get to the point and move things along.  Unfortunately, that is not the pace of most humans.  Often they see things played out in their friends and family. Few are strong enough to hear what they have to say.

Often psychics/intuitives do not see their own experiences played out.  They can be slow on the self-uptake.  That is why psychics and intuitives need close, evolved friends with whom they can trust for this information. It is hard to be objective about oneself. It is also hard to ferret out your own energy in the field.

The psychic, like the wise physician, does not self treat.  That, is what the psychic knew.  

Stand Your Ground

Over 361 million turkeys were sacrificed for Thanksgiving. Since the turkey didn't find peace or thanks, we definitely should. We are told after all, that it is a day of peace and thanks.  But does it really achieve that?

When several people share their individual and separate Thanksgiving experiences with you, and they are not pleasant ones, you take notice.  It seems downright good manners are limited these days.  Some families pitch in and everyone is involved in the food preparation.  Some have things done ahead of time and allow for a happy hour. Some are helter skelter, loud and the children run rampant. Often you wonder, 'how DID these people marry?"

My holidays include a happy hour when I do them.  A time for the hostess, family and friends to talk.  One on one time.  Often the family and friends would pitch in as the meal was ready to serve.  The meal would be an orderly change of food.  Some families serve food one direction ensuring that everyone have an opportunity to share in the bounty.  Some just take it for themselves and say heck with the rest of the bunch.  Some are sad because the year did not include any togetherness.  It is a photo op time.  You know it.  You dread it. 

Whatever your situation, make it a holiday you enjoy.  Start your own group if your day isn't a great one.  Set the ground rules. 

Stand your ground. 

Thanksgiving Through The Years

Thanksgiving is always my favorite holiday.  For one, it is in my favorite season, fall.  It requires no gifts, just family and friends.  A bountiful meal.  A cornucopia of colors.                                           
                                                                 



  As a child, I loved going to my Nana's apartment.  A few years later, my Mom did Thanksgiving.  There were no cousins living nearby; so it was just a small gathering.

I was more than happy to take it over when I was about thirty.  It continued that way for years. There were a few years in North Carolina when my children were not around.  They were sowing their oats and doing what twenty-somethings do. That has changed as they are married and have families of their own.

Now that I have moved closer to them I am with half of them, enjoying the day with them.  It is an easy holiday, no preparation, no cooking.  I admit to missing all of that.

I love that my family has grown. More adults, more children.  Friends. 

Now I do a big Christmas Eve dinner in my apartment on the seacoast. When my house in North Carolina sells, I can consider other housing options.  But until that time, we are just as snug as a bug.

Happy Thanksgiving!

So Long, Pat

I met Pat in 2001. I'd made the mistake of leaving the table at a restaurant during a Newcomer's Meeting.  My second.  Upon my return, I learned that I was the President for the next year. 

It was during that time, that I met Pat. She was one of those people you instantly liked. Pat had wonderful wit. She was beautifully dressed.  Always.  Loved her garden, her friends, her husband.  Her daughter and family lived in another state.

Pat was always content with things as they were.  A stiff upper lip is how I thought of her.  And of course, that ever present wit.  She was fast.

So long, Pat.  You left too early.

Is It Really Just Angry White Men?

In reading Michael Kimmel's review of the book, Angry White Men, I think we all suffer from a 'failure to adjust.' (See NYT Book Review link below) 

Kimmel says white men are angry.  They have been essentially the only contender for jobs for years.  Enter women, other ethnicities, blacks, hispanics,older folks, etc.  I am not so sure we need to be concerned about 'adjusting' to the mess we are in.  I do believe we need to set things up differently.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/24/books/review/angry-white-men-by-michael-kimmel.html?_r=0

It has been said that postpartum depression is similarly a 'failure to adjust.'  Historically, the family was around to help out.  Now women are more and more isolated with more and more for them to do including working outside the home. We know men have always been isolated.  Socialization is the cause for both of these maladies. 

This writer believes it is time to set things up differently. Yes, we are in a mess.  One of our creation - active or passive.  That means we buy less, toss less into landfills.  We don't put one another down.  We get our egos in check.  We realize we are all in this together.  Our workplace becomes supportive of families. 

Maybe we can all give up our hope of a 'sense of entitlement and accept a gentler, fairer notion of what it means' to be human.  Roles are always in flux and this is nothing new. 

Get over yourself and give others a chance.

Thanks For All Of Us

It's that time of year. Holidays begin. Our thoughts turn to family, the past year.  Blessings. Our friends.   Norman Rockwell painted the perfect family.

Maybe those folks got it.  Maybe it wasn't about painting a landscape like the way we wanted things to be. Maybe those folks were downright happy within and glad to see everyone.

What would happen if we released expectations and let things be as they are? Peaceful within.What if we don't focus on things outside, but truly enjoy our own good company?  Imagine.

More On The Cross Country Expedition...on a horse

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  Alex Jesse McNeil hugs his horse , a Tennesse Walker mare named Pepper, at Hampton Beach Saturday afternoon after crossing the country, starting at the Pacific Ocean in Brookings, Ore., in mid-March.
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  Alex Jesse McNeil leads his horse, a Tennesse Walker mare named Pepper, into the water at Hampton Beach Saturday afternoon after crossing the country, starting at the Pacific Ocean in Brookings, Ore., in mid-March.

Man completes cross-country trek in Hampton atop his horse

By Suzanne Laurent

news@seacoastonline.com

November 23, 2013 - 6:41 PM

 

HAMPTON — Alex Jesse McNeil trotted along the boardwalk at Hampton Beach Saturday afternoon, looking like he'd just spent the afternoon out for a ride on his Tennessee Walker mare, Pepper.

But, McNeil, 37, had just completed a 3,800-mile trek across the country, and about 40 friends, family and assorted curious people let out a cheer. After hugging his mother, Sara McNeil of Warner, he rode Pepper onto the sand in the late afternoon sunlight.

McNeil had to dismount and coax Pepper into the Atlantic Ocean and the mare kind of just stood at the edge while a tiny wave lapped over her front hooves.

The pair have been clopping their way across the country for about eight months, from Brookings, Ore., where they touched off in the Pacific Ocean. During the journey, McNeil relied on the kindness of strangers and learned how to find spots to camp out for the night.

“I spent last night in someone's back yard in Methuen (Mass.),” he said. They set off Saturday morning to complete the last 27.5 miles ending near the Seashell Stage.

McNeil was living in Bozeman, Mont., which he says is “definitely horse country,” when he met Pepper, the 5½-old mare. “I never really knew anything about horses, or riding them,” he said. “I sort of read a few books.”

He then got the idea to take another adventure, said his childhood friend Tony Mento of Warner who was part of the welcoming committee along with his wife Julie Mento.

“He's crossed Canada in an airplane,” Julie Mento said. “He's also made cross-country trips by bicycle, motorcycle and a moped.”

Mento brought along a bottle of champagne for McNeil. She also had carrots and a five-gallon bucket of water for Pepper. She wasn't the only one who brought nourishment for the gray mare.
Bethany Price of Gardner, Mass., and her daughters, Sofi Plotkin, 9, and Lily Plotkin, 10, brought huge bundles of hay. McNeil had stayed at their home Wednesday night and they wanted to be there to greet him on the beach. They met up with a friend, Jenna Thaye Anzelmo of Kittery, Maine, and her daughter Ava, 6, who also brought hay.

His old college friend from New England College, Mike Lemieux, came up from Boston with Jenn MacDonald to welcome McNeil home.

Standing along the windy boardwalk, Sara McNeil waited eagerly for word that her son was in New Hampshire.

“He does these kind of 'goofball' things, but he is usually careful and on time,” she said as the sun began to set. McNeil expected to arrive in Hampton around 3 p.m. and at about 3:40, word came that he was crossing the bridge at Seabrook. He actually touched water at 4 p.m.

“He will tell me about things after they happened,” Sara McNeil said. “He'll say, 'Mom, remember that time I told you we were climbing,' and then he'll tell me a kind of hair-raising story.”

McNeil said she finally joined Facebook two weeks ago so she could comment on her son's page, “On The Hoof, Sea to Sea,” thanking people who helped him along his journey.

In all the commotion on the beach with Pepper getting a lot of attention from horse lovers who came by and people who read his blog on Facebook, McNeil said what he liked most about this journey was “the people.” He was also raising awareness for conservation and open space, traveling in parks and off major roads whenever he could.

McNeil said he may turn the Facebook blog into a book. In the meantime, he has to look for a home for Pepper. He'll be in Warner with his mom for about a week and has plans to repair her roof. Then he's back to Montana.

“I wanted to ride to Warner from the beach, but, even though I could do it, she's had enough,” McNeil said. A horse trailer was brought to Hampton to bring Pepper to Warner.”

He's hoping to find a good home for his road companion of eight months. “I will miss her,” he said.

http://m.seacoastonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20131123/NEWS/131129858/-1/WAP&template=wapart

From Sea To Shining Sea...On Horseback

Is there anything more romantic than riding a horse?  Especially for a cause.  Alex McNeil did just that.  3,500 miles from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean.  He rode Pepper, a 5 and a half year old Tennessee Walker.  They are known for a delightful four step gait.  It makes for quite a nice ride. 

Alex rode for an idea.  He rode to promote awareness of land conservation.  Nearly everywhere, land is being developed.  Soon, there will not be any recreation area if we keep the pace.  Even the national park land is being sold off.  Development rights.  Minerals.  The list for our ever-consuming need for more and more seems to have no end.

This enduring horse took this man from sea to shining sea. 

Between Oocytes And Numbers

For anyone who has undergone or knows someone who is trying to become pregnant, it is all in the numbers.  There are hormone levels, numbers of swimmers, eggs, cycles with which to contend.  One's life, one's family revolves around them. 
                                       Successful implantation of a blastocyte

Making a baby has become a challenge for more and more people.  Everyone knows our pace is faster and faster.  All about profit.  But some, just want to have a baby.  They didn't poison the air, land or sea.  The corporations did that.  This lifestyle clogs the bodymind.  Clogs do not allow things to pass.  Simple as that. 

Please include us in a prayer circle.  Pray and visualize a healthy baby.  Encourage our team to grow, hormone levels to be where they need to be, for the beautiful process of procreation to become a reality.

Between oocytes and numbers, our team is praying and mothering these oocytes so that they become blastocytes and successfully implant. 

Can we count on your prayers?

Comcast

After twenty-five minutes on the phone early this morning with Comcast Phillipines, I am finally back online.  Now the time spent on the phone is more than ridiculous!  Blah, blah, blah with the people in a box which could have been managed in five minutes.

Earlier than expected, a competent technician was at my door and remedied the problem immediately.  As I suspected, the modem/cable box was not functioning.  This more than polite man, cared about making a connection.  That has been my experience with two technicians from this company since I moved to New England.

So my suggestion to Comcast is to get to the point on the phone and don't waste my time.  If you can't do this in a few minutes, you need to rethink your business plan.  Yes, the phone clerk is fine, safe and not in the typhoons way.  I ascertained this immediately.  I do care about people.  I care about efficiency and I care about my time.

Get it together, Comcast.   You are half way there!

Realtors And The Weather Report

Seriously now.  I'm sick and tired of realtors. Understand that I have not used a realtor since the end of the last millenium.  Enter the internet age.

Realtors don't sell houses.  They allow the internet to do that.  My most recent realtor calls weekly.  She leaves me a basic weather report on the town where my house is.  Please tell me why I need a weather report?

Then if that isn't bad enough, she sends me a report on how many people looked at my house with her lousy photos on the internet?  Why do I care about that?

I need her to work.  To sell my house.  She is in sales, isn't she?

A Tail Of Teeth Cleaning

It's too much!  Fortunately, I remember a time when you went to a health care provider, people or animal and you paid the bill.  There wasn't a charge for an office visit and procedure.  A blood drawing fee, or an administer the anesthesia fee.  The bill was considerably less as well.  One-quarter! 

See for yourself:

 
What is next?  A waiting room fee?

Kinder and Gentler

There is no doubt I want a kinder and gentler world.  I am particular about the kinds of services I hire.  Now on my fourth veterinarian in this high cost, rip off town, I decide to have my dogs teeth cleaned here as they are overdue for a cleaning.  Both dogs.  In the south I pay $100.  I don't do blood work on them anymore.  If I did, it would be about $200 per dog. 

Enter seacoast New Hampshire. The price per cleaning and all the filching fees comes to $500. Vet number four detects a Grade 3/6 mitral heart murmur in my younger dog.  I learned of this condition two and a half years ago which another vet diagnosed her as a Grade 1.She is the dog sleeping on the afghan above.

Today, this dog had to have a physical before her cleaning.  The vet said, after much consultation, that she needed an ultrasound before he was comfortable using anesthesia.  He suggested the fee was $350.  I have learned to call and get exact fees before I commit to a service.  Fraud does that to me.  Dang cheaters. While the estimates are often way off, it gives me some kind of a baseline.  The fee was $515 including a consultation.

The veterinarian that I like in this town, is an employee at the veterinary hospital.  His hands are tied regarding charges. The reason I have switched vets is because of their money grabbing mentality.  It is all about the numbers. 

When my little ones pass, I won't be getting another dog.  I won't contribute to this rip off.  I am ready for a kinder and gentler world. 

Birthday Card

At the heart

of every

great family

is a mother

whose words

speak a language

of love,

who actions

build

a lasting foundation,

who lessons

inspire

for a lifetime

My birthday card.  Wow.

Soon

There is a quietness now. Most of the leaves have dropped. Fall quickly melts into winter.  The seacoast wind, cold air and morning rain whispered:

"Soon."

After the last holiday of the year.

Having not lived near a coast before the wind thing is challenging.  Just fifteen minutes to the west slows it down.  Winter without wind might be more acceptable.  But I am not planning to try it out this year.  Nopers, I am heading south!

Not sure what the south will have in store.  Lots of memories.  A house to clean. Quilts, blankets, linens to wash right away.

After eighteen months away, I'll be getting to know it again. And quiet.  Pure quiet. Ahhh.

Today is 11, 12, 13

Today is 11, 12, 13 as a clever school classmate pointed out.  A friend married on 10/10/10.  Kinda neat don't you think?

Numbers are fun.  Interesting.  Uncanny sometimes.  I like the number '4.'  Always have.  I've been seeing a lot of the number '4' lately.  4 a.m. that is.  Clearly, my numbers are off.  Or they are telling me something to which I need pay attention. In numerology, the number '4' is about stability inviting the grounded nature of all things.  I think a lot about being grounded.  It is the door to possibilities. 

Lately, there has been a strong vibration in the earth.  Do you feel it?  It was particularly strong yesterday and the day before. No doubt some of this has to do with yesterday's earthquake off the coast of Russia at 6.6 on the Richter scale. 

Wonder what the next uncanny numbers will be?

Veterans

On Veteran's Day, I pause to remember.  I do not like these holidays.  I don't like anything associated with discord of any sort.  Never did. 

My heart always goes out to anyone associated with war.  Everyone suffers in it.  Because of it.  It is always the result of unevolved people.  Always the so-called not-so-leader-leadership.  Real leaders find peace.  To do otherwise is complete failure.  And that makes me sad.

My parents were in the army. My grandfather signed up before the United States entered WW1 with the Royal Canadian Mounties.  Lost his arm in the war.  My stepdad was a Lt. Colonel in the Marines.  Pearl Harbor.  My uncle was a paratrooper in WW2. 

I can somewhat understand the first and second WW's, and Korea - but not Vietnam or any of the ones that came after it. They are all about money.  The Middle Eastern ones are about resources.   We wasted ours and want theirs.

But this note isn't meant to be political.  To all who served, to those who were in the war, my heart goes out to you this and every day.  There is a better way.  Let's find it. Now!

Welcome!

There is nothing like being welcomed in someone's home.  Knowing they have prepared a clean and hospitable place for your visit.  There are groceries in the refrigerator. Smiling faces to greet your arrival.

I enjoy having company.  Always have.  And I put a lot of effort out to ensure my friends and family are thought about.  It is harder now that I am in an apartment, a roomy one at that.  Short on closet space.  Definitely not my mountain home.  It has other benefits and I am more than grateful for them.  One of them is being closer to family.

Sometimes the universe smacks you in the face over and over until you get it.  Listen.  Do it.  Well that has been happening to me more and more lately.  I see, know that it is time for me to live my better than best life. Better than the one I am. The clock is ticking. As my grandchild reminded me, "you are an old lady."  I had to laugh.  Then I queried him.

"What makes a person old? I asked.

"Junk food" he said.

"But I don't eat junk food,"

"You are an old lady," he offered.

He was finished talking and quick to sleep.  Asleep when I left yesterday morning.

On the plane ride home, I thought about this.  Thought about all the women who color their hair.  More than ever these days.  No one, it seems, wants to look old.  They believe hair color will do the job nicely.  $140 a month is the going rate for this I am told.  My mouth is wide open. Gads.

When men start coloring their hair to look more 'appealing' to the opposite sex, maybe I shall do it.  On second thought.  Nope. I am comfortable at 65. Get over it if you aren't.

My apartment will be clean, hospitable and full of groceries when he visits.  My hair will be silver-grey.  I'll be his version of an old lady.  Even when I am on the floor playing with Bruder trucks, teaching him yoga or laughing at his knock-knock jokes.  Or in his classroom waiting for him to spot me and yell my name as he runs and leaps into my arms.

I'm more than proud to be a Nana.  Two syllables with a pattern as he reminds me.  Na...nah!
And yes, little one, you are welcome.  I love adding more generations to my family.