I really need a break! Gravel spat out in a long rooster tail from under the fat, rear wheel of the Harley Davidson chopper. It peppered the horse float parked next to the small farmhouse, and bounced onto the hat of the tall, bearded man standing next to it. He opened his mouth to speak and quickly shut it as a cloud of dust settled on him. Shaking his head sadly he turned and walked towards the three children standing on the shady veranda. The arguments were nothing new, or their mother’s increasing frustration with life, them and her husband. Karl stopped and turned when he heard the gearbox on his prized bike clunk as his wife, Maggie missed third gear. The canary yellow bike fish tailed as it disappeared from view up the tree-lined road. For Karl, it was just as well he couldn’t see any further.
Dressed in sandals, a sarong and with an open face helmet on her head Maggie regained control of the chopper. The right hand turn that would take her towards the highway loomed up ahead. She didn’t see the small, white delivery truck approaching the intersection. Tears of anger and frustration stung her eyes, that and the wind blowing into them. Leaning the bike to take the bend she slammed into the front bumper bar of the truck.
Opening my eyes I sat back from the table and took another look at my sitter, Maggie. Tall, attractive, slender and dressed like an extra from the musical Hair, she appeared to be the epitome of cool as she stared back at me. We’d been through the whole check the aura, look at the birth number routine and I thought how well she camouflaged her feelings. One of the very few questions I ask is, ‘What do you want from this reading?’ Her reply, ‘I want a break, that’s all I want, a break in life. It’s not too much to ask is it?’ No it isn’t but when a person wants something so badly the universe quite often gives it to them. I told her about the, quite clear, lucid vision I experienced, ‘Yeah, Karl has a yellow Harley. I ride it now and then.’ – ‘Well don’t ride it and you’ll be okay.’ She had a chuckle at that and asked, ‘So, what about my kids?’
I laid out the tarot cards and commenced to read them. For a start I stare at the overall layout to get a feel for it, then look for cards of the same suite and number. I only read the cards one way up and look for how they fall in relation to their neighbours. This gives a general overview, I talk about what I see with the layout then pick each card up individually. Holding the card I stare at it for a few moments, entering into a slightly altered state of consciousness. The imagery and symbols of the Rider Waite deck are universal, staring at them opens up the mind and triggers something in it. This then goes deeper and I believe links the reader to the universal mind. I’ve been accused of mind reading while doing a reading. It amazes me that people who don’t believe in psychic events are eager to jump in and say, ‘You’re reading my mind!’ This never fails to astound me, They don’t believe you are in touch with something incredible. Yet they make a statement like that, which is just as incredible, it can be done though.
I gave her a run down on what would be happening to her family in the coming months, the children and Karl would be okay, and her life would be turned upside down if she rode the bike. Flash forward a year and I’m in town shopping, who do I see? You guessed it, Maggie… on crutches with her left leg in a steel cage. I invited her to the food court for a coffee and she regaled me with her tale. Yes she argued with Karl, hopped on his chopper and rode off up the road. Yes she turned in front of a truck and mashed her left ankle against the bumper. I looked at the scarring and wastage on her ankle, shook my head and said, ‘Well?’ – ‘It looks like I finally got my break eh? I should have listened, now I have nothing. Karl has the kids because I can’t look after them, and he has the house. I’m living with Mum and the doctors are talking about taking my foot off.’
What can you say? People have free will when it comes to these life decisions, I could only pass on what I saw and hope that Maggie would take some notice. I took a quick look at her future while chatting and gave her some hope that at the very least she would keep her foot. There were too many variables down the line for her, to give any detailed review. Even keeping her foot she would be crippled for another year. The children had grown away from her and Karl had someone else. Be extremely careful with what you ask for. You may get it!
How many times do you have to prove yourself, about every second day in this game actually? People turn up with wedding rings on when they aren’t married and none when they are. They dress down when they’re well off and dress up when they aren’t. They try the old leaning forward when you’re telling them something, so you think it’s important. Then lean away when you say something else, hoping to lead you up the garden path and make blunders. That’s why I read the person with my eyes closed, and keep my head down when I read the cards. On a bad day the sitter would waste half of their reading playing silly games. One lady who rubbed me the wrong way from the minute she sat down argued the whole way through. It comes down to communication, or even better, listening. The common usage of words on my side didn’t seem to gel with her. I described her home, family etc then gave some time to talking about her husband, who I described quite well I might add. I said, ‘Now, your husband.’ – ‘He’s not my husband.’ – ‘You’ve been together 20 years as man and wife.’ – ‘Yes but he’s my partner.’ – ‘You’re being pedantic, he’s still classed as your common law husband.’ – ‘Well, I call him my partner.’ You can’t win.
Some sitters were downright disruptive and negated everything I said, even when I knew it to be correct, so let’s call this lady Molly. She turned up all prim and proper and played the games. Everything I said received the same reply, ‘That could be for anybody, you’re guessing, you’re blah, blah, blah.’ I turned over a card and began talking about her husband, her reply, ‘Oh, that could be any man.’ I’d had enough, she’d been referred to me by a happy customer, yet all she wanted to do was bust my balls. Because I never saw obstacles with my work many things became possible, one thing I could do was see the human body, naked and sometimes inside. Believe it or not. Sitting back I relaxed and cleared my mind. The life-size image of a man appeared in my mind’s eye. He stood there naked as the day he was born, every blemish, scar, and freckle all there for me to comment on – thank you. I turned my back to her and started, ‘Your husband is five feet ten inches tall, he has salt and pepper hair, blue eyes, clean-shaven, a broken nose, sparse body hair, freckles on his face, well muscled, strong legs,’ I paused for effect, ‘Which you love kissing, he’s circumcised and has a long, quite thick penis. There’s a three-inch scar on his left knee, he broke his right ankle as a boy and…’ I turned around. Her mouth hung open then snapped shut, she muttered, ‘Okay, okay.’ I gave myself a pat on the back and said, ‘Right, now can we get on with the reading?’ Thankfully the good far outweighed the bad players otherwise I would have given up.
Some things that really irritated me: Psychic shoppers. These are people who are looking for answers and are never happy with what they receive. They waltz in, flop down and their whole demeanour yells: entertain me, enthrall me, tell me what I want to hear. Therein lies the problem, what they want, not what they need. They leave a trail of shattered readers in their wake, abused and feeling inadequate. Nothing dampens a reading like negativity and aggression, from the sitter that is. You deal out the cards and it goes like this, ‘Oh, that’s not how Sue does it. Why are the cards all the same way, shouldn’t they be upside down as well? I’ve been reading the instructions with my deck and this card means this, not what you said.’ Sometimes I couldn’t help myself, “So, why are you seeing me if Sue does it, better still, why aren’t you doing your own reading?’ – ‘I can’t do it and the others told me nothing but they read the cards differently.’ I wouldn’t go into bagging another psychic, instead I would explain that people see and do things differently. One lady turned up, didn’t want it recorded and wrote everything down. Fine by me. The reading went well and she left. Six months later she rang and said, ‘Nothing has happened, all those things you told me were bulldust.’ – ‘That is strange, everything seemed quite definite if I remember. Did you take the steps we spoke about?’ – ‘No, I did the exact opposite.’ I hung up.
Relatives who stick their beaks in. I never charged for healings, only five dollars to cover my fuel costs if I visited, which I thought to be fair. If they came to me, no worries. An elderly lady named Eileen rang me one morning to make an appointment to visit her that afternoon. After lunch I took a nap and immediately found myself viewing a man in his thirties and his children. The feeling came that they were connected to the woman. I arrived at her unit, clutching my massage table. She ushered me inside and I spoke with her as I set up, telling her about what I’d seen. ‘Oh, that’s my son and his children.’ Helping her onto the table I covered her from the waist down with a sheet. A sense of being watched came to me and I noticed the spirit of a man laying back on a lounge chair. He appeared as a young man, dressed in long, khaki shorts and army boots. I received a few images of North Africa in WW2 and mentioned to Eileen that her husband was here, she said, ‘Oh yes, he served in the army.’ – ‘I’d say he was at the siege of Tobruk.’ – ‘Oh, you are clever.’ He sat there fading in and out giving me a malevolent stare. Ignoring him I concentrated on Eileen.
The aura tends to clog up when a person is sick and if they are quite unwell there are black blobs everywhere. I spoke with her about her open heart surgery and ‘women’s troubles’ as if we were old chums. What a lovely lady. Working my hands through the aura I cleared out the blocked energy. Eileen’s face lit up as I worked and she looked fresher and relaxed. When I finished she put the kettle on while I packed up. We had afternoon tea and a good chat. Then she asked, ‘How much do I owe you?’ I thought about afternoon tea and the enjoyment of talking with her and said, ‘Don’t worry about it, it’s a gift.’ – ‘What do you charge?’ – ‘Five dollars for fuel.’ – ‘Humph,’ she pulled a fifty out of her apron and shoved it in my shirt pocket, ‘Take it, what you did is worth every cent. Now don’t insult me by refusing.’ – ‘Okay but I can come back a few times for follow-up healings, until the fifty is gone’ – ‘Wonderful, I’ll ring you.’ I gave her my card and returned home. She rang that night, sounding glum and quite despondent, ‘I told my son about today and he said I’m not allowed to see you. He said you’re ripping me off by charging fifty dollars and that you’re not to come back.’
My feelings on this were, the son came to visit later that day and saw his mother looking cheery and vibrant. How dare the old dear be well? Eileen’s husband, although a prick had left quite a nest egg. God forbid that mum would live a little longer. I might sound harsh about this but I’d seen an old woman blossom. She’d gone from sad, sick and lonely to someone with zest. I only channel the healing, I don’t take credit for it. You would think the son would be delighted that his mum felt better.
Next week: So, you’re dying, what’s happening? I return to a murder scene.
STOP THE PRESSES! Anomalies in photograph.
I took this picture on Saturday afternoon May 10th, 2014. Location, Twin Bridges on the Brisbane River, at Fernvale. I put the 600D up on the tripod, set the timer for 2 seconds, hit the button and stood back. After 2 seconds the camera went off. I took a quick look and realised that I’m going to need a dark filter if I want to slow the water in such bright conditions. I continued taking more pics, only checking them when I returned home. Imagine my delight when I saw the long, misty image on the right of the picture. (along with the other three) I have cropped that image and placed it below this one. I’ve done nothing to the pic except crop it and reduce it to a kb size easier for uploading. I cleaned the lens before going out, the sun would have been to the right and the air temperature would have been around 24 deg Celsius. Twin Bridges has seen several drowning’s over the years. So, is this the spirit of a victim or a play of light on a lens?