Leaving So Soon?

Downtown Omaha near the Missouri River (goodtimetravel.net)

Downtown Omaha near the Missouri River (goodtimetravel.net)

Here’s your hat… what’s your hurry?

MY RECENT, LONG-ANTICIPATED visit to Omaha was curtailed by a stunning display of bad behavior on the part of my daughter and son-in-law, “Magyar” and “Porter.” Ten days into what was to have been a twenty-day stay in their home — just before the house- and cat-sitting portion of the program was to begin — I was asked to leave in a manner that was certainly bewildering. To call it ungracious would be kind.

Late on a Sunday afternoon, Porter summoned me… I stepped into his steely presence… and he made the following peremptory announcement: “Arrangements have been made for you to stay with ‘Clotilde’ and ‘Arbutus’ for the next day-and-a-half (starting right now)”… at the end of which my plane would be waiting…. I simply “couldn’t be trusted.”

Dorothy and Ozma; illustration by John R. Neill from DOROTHY AND THE WIZARD IN OZ, by L. Frank Baum, 1908. Magyar and I were both aficionados of the original Oz series

Dorothy and Ozma; illustration by John R. Neill from DOROTHY AND THE WIZARD IN OZ, by L. Frank Baum, 1908. Magyar and I were both aficionados of the original Oz series

There are no words to describe the fury, humiliation, grief, and, um… crummy feelings I experienced. A half-hour of meditation at Clotilde’s did a great deal to dispel the most intense of these, but the anger and sadness creep up on me still from time to time, and I take refuge in my journal so as not to be poisoned by toxic emotions held within and having no other means of expression.

I’ve stopped ruminating about my alleged untrustworthiness. It was a bogus excuse for a shabby deed… and a mystifying one, given that until a few years ago this accomplished woman, lovely inside and out, the daughter of my heart, was my most cherished and trusted friend… my funny, endearing “rag dolly,” my confidante as I was hers.

Return to eBay

I had been planning to market my most recent book, Annagrammatica’s Little Book of Positive Affirmations, extensively on eBay, when my longtime pal Mary L. suggested we work together to sell some of her antiques online. Photos of some of her pieces will appear in this blog as soon as I shake off my lethargy and ADD-aggravated procrastination.

My psychic journey

Psychic journey might be a bit fancified an appellation for what is more a psychic sputtering-along. Following the advice of Sandra Anne Taylor and her identical twin, Sharon Anne Klingler, I check in regularly with “Spirit,” their term for the gaggle of angels, ascended masters, loved ones on the Other Side, ancestors, one’s own Higher Self, and who knows who-all… our guides who are with us much of the time and who come when we call.

I have been a true believer, if not an energetic one, since I had the slightly psychic experience described HERE. For a few minutes in this management class, most of us were indeed accidental psychics. Among the scores of students in the class, I’d be surprised if more than a few followed up on our remarkable intuitive accomplishments.

Given the freedom to “feel like you’re making it up,” however, I’ve had numerous small “manifestations,” mostly in the form of surprising answers to prayers I’ve forgotten about, as well as the “appearance” of surprising people making their presence known among my groupies when I do roll-call. I’ll have to take a few minutes and go through my journal for specifics.

Lily Dale, New York... said to be the world's oldest and largest spiritualist community

Lily Dale, New York… said to be the world’s oldest and largest spiritualist community

The most startling event, however, lasted only seconds: I was napping one afternoon and awakened briefly to see a young woman sitting in a chair along the wall beside my bed. Her appearance and manner were suggestive of a job applicant. She smiled when she saw that my eyes were open.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly, but she only smiled a little more brightly.

“Angel?” I asked. She made a small movement like a shaking of the head to indicate “no.” When I asked her name, she mouthed “Linda.”

I closed my eyes and slept for ten or fifteen minutes. When I woke up, she was gone, as was the chair she’d been sitting in. Perhaps you’re thinking dream. It’s possible, I guess, though I don’t see that it makes much difference; but it didn’t feel at all like a dream. It didn’t feel odd or otherworldly. It just felt like an everyday occurrence… no soft, misty edges to her; nothing at all spooky. An ordinary Arizona afternoon….

Later, fully awake and recalling the incident, I came to the conclusion that it was a “foreknowing”… that she is someone I’ll encounter again.

Now that I’m actively seeking contact with Spirit, I hope I’ll have more to report and that it will be more interesting.

Meanwhile, wishing  you and yours many bright blessings every single day….


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