Saturday, June 27, 2009

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Central Nervous System Lupus and Psychic Awareness

I haven't written here for a long time. I've written only a little on Facebook and one article on Lupus for SCOOP,USA. I go in and out of things. For a long time, I was giving psychic readings on spark people. I did well, if you're not looking for Sylvia Browne. I can still get information, which hopefully, I interpret correctly. I ask "Bubba". Initially, I thought I was asking my husband's very beloved grandmother. I realize though, the spirit answering could be my mother's mom, also my Bubba. Any of us can direct questions to the spirits who love us. Then, just sit tight, focusing on something like breathing, and the answer will come.
I developed my slight psychic ability through Lupus. My flares were ones that hit my central nervous system. One day I didn't know anything, and the next day, I could sense spirits. Lupus. I was never sure,and still can't be, that anybody was sending me anything. Then I saw Aunt Millie. During another lupus flare, I awoke to see Aunt Millie, my neighbor's aunt who'd passed away a few years before, standing by my bedside. She was filmy and not looking at me. When I talked to her too much, she started fading, so I asked her to please, please stay, and she did. We didn't have any communication; I figured she either meant to go next door or she wanted me to give her niece by marriage a message. They hadn't parted on friendly terms so I assumed the message was a kind of apology and I told her niece.
When my very beloved cousin passed away, I grieved terribly. I don't think I'll ever get over his death. Not more than a year after he died, one night he started to communicate. First, his photo flew off the mantle (by itself, with no other photos moving), to the floor, landing face up, without breaking. One sneaker did the same. My keyboard put itself back with my staring at it. MY shade took itself up two inches. A couple Christmases ago, Harry and I were driving home and our car filled with cigarette smoke. It happened again a couple of nights later. (Jerry was a heavy smoker.) One morning, someone touched my cheek; I thought it was Harry, but he turned out to be in the shower. I think I heard Jerry's voice another time, but I don't remember clearly.
I had one creepy psychic visitation from a spirit I apparently brought home from a night's stay in the hospital. That was awful. In the hospital itself, spirits visited all night patting me on the knee, reassuring me.
I'm sixty-one, hopefully not close to dying; but having someone you love suddenly sicken and die really gives you perspective. Most of my problems are arthritis or joint problems. I'm out of shape and overweight; that's a terrible combination. Occasionally, I use a cane. I've started to hand-paint them for other people in addition to painting at my easel. It's lovely sitting in my studio, overlooking our backyard. Right now, the trees are in leaf, the lillies and hostas are blooming. The birds are always at Harry's birdfeeder, chirping away. It's lovely.
Life isn't easy for anyone. It's all relative. I have been very lucky with Lupus though. I can walk and talk, think, and paint, plus communicate a little with spirits. That isn't always the case with lupus survivors. People don't always survive. I look at my life and I'm kind of amazed.

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