woo-woo pride
Sometimes the things I'm thinking about just aren't what I feel comfortable blabbing about. But sometimes I blab anyway. Maybe this is one of those times.
I exchanged the books my dad bought for us at Christmas for some things I'll actually read. (G got the whole mall gift card for a video game he reeeeally wanted, so I get all the book money. Fine with me.) I picked up two new copies of "God Calling," one for some friends and one to replace the copy I beat to death over the past year by reading and contemplating it in the tub. (I LOVE that book. So helpful.) I picked up Anne Lamott's "Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith," because I have a feeling I will want to own the book that contains this amazingly tender and insightful, hilarious author's thoughts on God. I picked up a weekly planner, which I will actually be using as a diary of the brief-and-to-the-point variety. (Helpful for tracking reproductive cycles and guaging general productivity.) And I bought a book called "Phenomenon" by a psychic called Sylvia Browne. :: sigh :: It's an alphabetical guide to the paranormal. There are sections on fairies, devas, angels, covens... phrenology. She's got great one-sentence, God-centered summaries of the Major Arcana of the Tarot, but the dear also believes that Atlantis will rise back into existence in this century. Wacky, no? And yet...
Some of this stuff just hits me so hard. And I admit: I feel conflicted about it all. Seriously. The section on telepathy made me have to put the book down and weep--like, screaming (no one else home)--for several minutes. This is me, I thought. This is what happens to me. Here it is. Yet even just having the cashier at the book store ring me up felt like potentially subjecting myself to condemnation, albeit silent: Yep, I'm one of them. I read this stuff. God and psychic phenomenon: I believe it. Yep.
Okay, so I'm what is called psychic. (I just know things, especially about people but sometimes about... other things.) Okay, so there's a Voice in my head. I'm pretty open about this stuff. I'm more than happy to do intuitive readings for others; I do this professionally, though on a somewhat intermittent basis as I do not advertise. But I also hang out with hyper-smart, hyper-educated people, and I can sometimes feel self-conscious about all of this.
It's not because I think my smartypants friends themselves will judge me. They're my friends, and this is a rather prominent and salient aspect of who I am. In close relationships, it all makes sense and I'm comfortable. Besides, my friends are mostly either very spiritual, religious, or woo-woo friendly themselves. (Thanks, Ms. Browne, for the charming new self-deprecating term woo-woo people.) Still, with the inner conflict.
Basically, I do not run around with a crowd of woo-woos like me. I worked in a natural foods market throughout the New Age nineties, and though I happily cherry-picked ideas that worked for me, I saw the whole thing done to death, and I distanced myself from the scene. In fact, I don't think I know very many people now who would buy, let alone read, let alone cry over a book like Ms. Browne's. And come to think of it, some religious friends seem a bit iffy on the phenomenon, and some of the woo-woo leaning are not so sure about God. So I'm surrounded by reminders that who I am is, well, weird. Different and slightly suspect, anyway.
And I just want it all to make sense to everyone! I wish every heart resonated with joyful recognition when reading about how sometimes whole chunks of knowledge or the fully articulated sense of an experience one didn't have will be just deposited in one's head from time to time, or how beings connected on the level of spirit do not need to speak in order to have a conversation. I want every religious person to understand and accept with an open heart that what I hear comes from God, in the same way all our other gifts do. And I do what I do for God! There is absolutely nothing evil about any of this, in my experience. And how 'bout it, rigid intellectuals: Are you ready to stop resisting the obvious and at least accept that intelligent people are often also fully faithful to a Higher Power? That we are not all crazy and/or stupid?
But why do I care at all, even in an abstact way, about what others may think about what resonates for me? Yes, I think we'd all be happier if we were all listening to our Voices. But I know this conflicted feeling boils down to me not yet being fully comfortable with who I am in the world.
Well, I'm very grateful to Ms. Browne for reminding me of these very real aspects of myself, and of their worth. I don't agree with her about Atlantis, but, hey, we'll both be gone by the time her prediction comes true or doesn't, so there's no need to quibble. I bought her book because when I picked it up I felt a surge of energy that said, yes. The telepathy section alone was worth the full retail price. I got the yes feeling when reading her take on angels, too, even though I'm not so sure about her literal take on the details. I'll keep reading. I need more yes. We all do. I'll take it wherever I find it. And I'll leave the rest.
I exchanged the books my dad bought for us at Christmas for some things I'll actually read. (G got the whole mall gift card for a video game he reeeeally wanted, so I get all the book money. Fine with me.) I picked up two new copies of "God Calling," one for some friends and one to replace the copy I beat to death over the past year by reading and contemplating it in the tub. (I LOVE that book. So helpful.) I picked up Anne Lamott's "Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith," because I have a feeling I will want to own the book that contains this amazingly tender and insightful, hilarious author's thoughts on God. I picked up a weekly planner, which I will actually be using as a diary of the brief-and-to-the-point variety. (Helpful for tracking reproductive cycles and guaging general productivity.) And I bought a book called "Phenomenon" by a psychic called Sylvia Browne. :: sigh :: It's an alphabetical guide to the paranormal. There are sections on fairies, devas, angels, covens... phrenology. She's got great one-sentence, God-centered summaries of the Major Arcana of the Tarot, but the dear also believes that Atlantis will rise back into existence in this century. Wacky, no? And yet...
Some of this stuff just hits me so hard. And I admit: I feel conflicted about it all. Seriously. The section on telepathy made me have to put the book down and weep--like, screaming (no one else home)--for several minutes. This is me, I thought. This is what happens to me. Here it is. Yet even just having the cashier at the book store ring me up felt like potentially subjecting myself to condemnation, albeit silent: Yep, I'm one of them. I read this stuff. God and psychic phenomenon: I believe it. Yep.
Okay, so I'm what is called psychic. (I just know things, especially about people but sometimes about... other things.) Okay, so there's a Voice in my head. I'm pretty open about this stuff. I'm more than happy to do intuitive readings for others; I do this professionally, though on a somewhat intermittent basis as I do not advertise. But I also hang out with hyper-smart, hyper-educated people, and I can sometimes feel self-conscious about all of this.
It's not because I think my smartypants friends themselves will judge me. They're my friends, and this is a rather prominent and salient aspect of who I am. In close relationships, it all makes sense and I'm comfortable. Besides, my friends are mostly either very spiritual, religious, or woo-woo friendly themselves. (Thanks, Ms. Browne, for the charming new self-deprecating term woo-woo people.) Still, with the inner conflict.
Basically, I do not run around with a crowd of woo-woos like me. I worked in a natural foods market throughout the New Age nineties, and though I happily cherry-picked ideas that worked for me, I saw the whole thing done to death, and I distanced myself from the scene. In fact, I don't think I know very many people now who would buy, let alone read, let alone cry over a book like Ms. Browne's. And come to think of it, some religious friends seem a bit iffy on the phenomenon, and some of the woo-woo leaning are not so sure about God. So I'm surrounded by reminders that who I am is, well, weird. Different and slightly suspect, anyway.
And I just want it all to make sense to everyone! I wish every heart resonated with joyful recognition when reading about how sometimes whole chunks of knowledge or the fully articulated sense of an experience one didn't have will be just deposited in one's head from time to time, or how beings connected on the level of spirit do not need to speak in order to have a conversation. I want every religious person to understand and accept with an open heart that what I hear comes from God, in the same way all our other gifts do. And I do what I do for God! There is absolutely nothing evil about any of this, in my experience. And how 'bout it, rigid intellectuals: Are you ready to stop resisting the obvious and at least accept that intelligent people are often also fully faithful to a Higher Power? That we are not all crazy and/or stupid?
But why do I care at all, even in an abstact way, about what others may think about what resonates for me? Yes, I think we'd all be happier if we were all listening to our Voices. But I know this conflicted feeling boils down to me not yet being fully comfortable with who I am in the world.
Well, I'm very grateful to Ms. Browne for reminding me of these very real aspects of myself, and of their worth. I don't agree with her about Atlantis, but, hey, we'll both be gone by the time her prediction comes true or doesn't, so there's no need to quibble. I bought her book because when I picked it up I felt a surge of energy that said, yes. The telepathy section alone was worth the full retail price. I got the yes feeling when reading her take on angels, too, even though I'm not so sure about her literal take on the details. I'll keep reading. I need more yes. We all do. I'll take it wherever I find it. And I'll leave the rest.
posted by eliza | 8:50 PM
2 Comments:
Sylvia used to be a friend of my mother's. ;) It still sometimes catches me off-guard that there are (probably lots of!) people who think anything metaphysical is EVIL and SCARY. And then it'll hit me--oh wait, that's what what I think of organized religion (after 8 years of Catholic school)...ha! Yes, it would be much, much nicer world if we were all just even a tiny bit more open and tolerant of each other's beliefs. As for what is or isn't 'true'...I think we can each only open ourselves to that which resonates and feels right for US.
i hear ya, i get embarrassed buying these kind of books at the book store too or checking them out at the library, but then i figure that they probably see stranger things than me every day. :-)
i think it's awesome that you have these talents, eliza! wow! have you read any sonia choquette, her diary of a psychic was a really great read. actually, i'm done with my copy if you'd like me to send it to you (if you haven't already read it!)
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