Sunday, November 13, 2005

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The Spirits Dance

Dancers...2005 There's a lot to be done but I don't feel like doing it. No dancing, painting, or singing. Or reading. Nothing appeals to me right now. Today's been a relaxing day with no visitors and no visits. I needed that. Daughter Honey studies non-stop; this weekend it was Buddhism. She's almost at the point where she'll take refuge which means she'll officially be Buddhist. Our son is officially an atheist, but we have faith he'll become spiritual sometime in his life. The dangers of religious training come home to roost. We pushed them both, Honey to religious Day School, and Brian to after school programs. Luckily, I don't believe in religion, just spirit and all that comes with that. Not religion per Se.
For a while I was psychic which had a relationship with my medications and frontal lobe problems. I still feel a strong connection to the 'other side' with an electric light in this room that comes on and/or blinks on its own usually when something is going to happen in the family. Once I saw a spirit so clearly--it was Aunt Millie, my neighbor's aunt--that I'll never forget her. That was a very special experience. Other times I've seen spirits or other things but not yet like Aunt Millie. Lately, I felt someone grasp my hand, but usually my family visits me in my dreams. I was born into a large family most of whom had been born in the Victorian and Edwardian Age. They taught me how to use silverware, speak, and dress correctly and my values are directly from them. Often the light comes on when I'm going to paint and I guess that's because they've always been my enthusiastic supporters.
One day about a year ago, when I could still see spirits, son Brian was here stating he didn't believe in any of it. He's a good speaker with a keen mind so I shut up and didn't argue with him. But I saw my grandmother and the rest of my family standing to his side beaming. They didn't care what he was saying, just that he was so smart and such a nice young man, and their grandchild.
Other times I've seen my great grandmother and a host of that generation from the 1870s with whom I feel familiar. They're fascinated with our 'new-fangled' machines and pleased to be remembered. My father especially gifted me with stories of his youth and our family's adventures. My aunt and uncle who'd died from the Spanish Flu and WWI were people I knew because of him. My grandfather, who died when I was four, has never left me, and I still remember him clearly. Psychics tell me he collects copies of my paintings. My dad visited me last night and every time he comes, I'm glad.
I don't know what lays ahead when we die; I believe we continue in another dimension with our family and friends who've gone before us. But my son would laugh, and my doctors, when I've told them this stuff, have taken notes attributing it to my brain damage. I'm sorry I've stopped seeing spirits but I was boring everybody in my family, seeing them everywhere, and eventually, it just wasn't interesting anymore to anyone but me.

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