Psychic or psychopath.

I generalise, but in my experience most psychologists and psychiatrists view any claims of psychic ability as an indication of mental illness.  (I have been lucky enough to meet a broad-minded psychologist who embraces what I do, but she is definitely in the minority.)  
The diagnosis is often tied up with schizophrenia, in other words hearing voices, seeing visions and having experiences that may seem supernatural.  Someone who doesn't know me commented on Facebook when I offered to help someone else using my ability, "Psychics and psychopaths. . . psychopathology. . . such a fine line."  I encounter these views relatively often so of course being a thinking person, I do wonder if in fact mental illness contributes to what I am able to do.  I contracted bacterial meningitis when I was seven years old and am fortunate to have survived it.  Maybe that had something to do with opening the channels due to possible brain damage?  I seem to have been able to get this far in life without being institutionalised or medicated.  It also does not explain the accuracy of what I experience when concentrating on a problem someone needs answers about.  I do not know where the visions or smells or words or feelings come from, but I know that what I "get" is correct.  It is an absolute knowing.  Perhaps it should be turned around, those people who do apparently suffer from mental illness are in fact very sensitive and experience all layers of life so acutely that they cannot cope.  Could it be that they are the true psychics of the world?  Diagnosed and dulled by medication?  Told that what they feel is but a figment of their imaginations?  I am simply posing a question, I do hope I am not seen as insensitive because that is not my intention.

To serve and protect?

The elections are over and the promises are a thing of the past.  All reverts to the usual rich get richer and the poor remain just that, poor.  We live in hope, without much hope, but still hope.  South Africa is a country apparently striving for an international status.  A huge amount of our income is earned through tourism.  Tourists arrive in South Africa with enthusiasm and quite often leave enraptured by the magic of the country as long as their holiday is crime free.  They struggle to believe that crime is as prevalent as we say it is.  Crime is to South Africa as tea is to England.  It is often horribly violent, violating and motiveless.  One has to be streetwise in this country. One has to have an eye open at all times.  It is the way we live.  If a crime is committed one can only hope that the police arrive and if they do, do their job properly.  The police are underpaid and under-staffed, their vehicles old and their stress levels indescribable due to being subjected to huge case loads and psychological trauma on a daily basis.  People working in this type of environment are disenchanted, demotivated and lack pride in their profession.  I am sure there are police men and women who take pride in their jobs, but I have yet to meet one.  In my town, it is a known fact that the police often simply do not arrive and if they do, unacceptably late.  An incident occurred about five hundred metres away from the police station in which a lady was stabbed repeatedly in the hand and arm and her bag stolen.  The ambulance was called and arrived five minutes later from a few kilometres away, but the police, who were five hundred metres away, took forty-five minutes.  Why? The excuse given at the time was a shift change, forty five minutes before it was actually supposed to change. When I approached the station commander to bring this to his attention, I was subjected to bureaucratic babble. I walked away furious and I suddenly realised that because our crime rate is so high, apathy has set in and the people who should serve and protect simply don't care or can't care. Can't care because they have burnt out and have seen too much. Corruption is rife because salaries do not cover basic expenses, the suicide rate unacceptable. What do we do as citizens of this country if our police force can't help us? I dread to think about an eventuality where I may need help because the bottom line and the track record unfortunately proves that I may not get it.

People reading, love it!

One of my favourite pastimes is people watching.  I am content to sit quietly in coffee shops and simply take in my surroundings.  Sometimes I strike up conversations and sometimes I don't.  I like to work out the dynamics between people and covertly observe. I find a certain knowledge of body language helps and this I have gleaned from books and working on the ambulances.  Watching a patient for unspoken signs of distress, discomfort or fear is crucial to a good stretcherside manner so I learnt quickly to identify these.   The part of my teaching work I enjoy the most, is meeting my students, especially groups of diverse personalities who have not met me or each other before.  It is akin to putting a cat (me) among the pigeons (them) . . .   I make it my silent, personal mission to work out as quickly as I can, who will be the class clown, the quiet one, the know-it-all, the disinterested one and the I-will-challenge-you-at-every-opportunity one.  It is part personal skill testing and part self-preservation!  As soon as I know who I have, I can tailor my class accordingly.  No two classes are ever the same, but the personality types are.  People are not usually forthcoming during the first meeting, or even the second, but with subtle questioning I can see beneath their protective shells quite easily.  Most of the time I leave them to be what they want me and others to see, but on occasion I may gently confront someone, particularly the challengers, on discrepancies I have picked up.  Social situations, ones in which I don't have to be Mrs-nice-person, I am a little more interrogative.   Everyone has a persona they wear that they think the world will like. I like to work out how real people are. I use a combination of instinct, good listening skills and basic psychology skills. I either like someone or not. That is my starting point, using instinct. I am rarely wrong on this and I wish more people would listen to their guts. When your gut says "Hmm, not sure, something is not quite right." Listen!    If this is the case, leave it well alone. If not, I may engage in light conversation to see how interested the other person is in me, not in a sexual way, a I want to know about you, way. A disinterested person is often a selfish person, not on my list of possible friends. Other traits I find annoying are interrupters, people who launch into exactly how much they paid for their Ferrari, pet, boots, (pet and boots maybe, Ferrari, probably not) hypochondriacs (being a paramedic, I hear about all manner of ailments) and people who do not pick up on social cues that I am bored stiff with their monologue on child-rearing complete with countless photographs. That said, I find interacting with people very interesting and I learn so much about my self and others by trying to understand why people are as they are. It is not a game for me, it is a quest for enrichment.

Consequences of spraying a fly.

I have always loved the natural world.  As a child I collected all manner of creatures to study in the fish tank in my room (which kept my terrified mother from entering) and once I had drawn them and documented their behaviour, I released them.  From snails to crickets, moths to mice, they all fascinated me.  I found some locusts one day at school and promptly unpacked my desk to house them, complete with the foliage I found them on.  Sister Thomas demanded that I reveal my reasoning for this and on seeing the locusts, sentenced me to hours in the corner.  I spent a lot of my junior years in the corner!  The locusts, however were left untouched and went home in my lunch box to be returned to their natural habitat when I had deemed them sufficiently observed.  This childhood passion has led me to be unafraid of any creature because I learnt then, that if left undisturbed, creatures will not disturb us.  All animals are on our planet for a reason and the chain of life should never have been messed with.  Many humans needing a "clean, bug-free" environment have caused havoc with their need to indiscriminately kill anything that looks vaguely menacing.  I cannot kill an ant and make toilet paper ladders for spiders to climb out of the bath on.  I certainly am aware the enormous harm that pesticides are causing our world and so never use them.  I make up natural remedies to cause bugs to avoid my cabbages rather than decimate them.  There are always alternative ways to rid homes and gardens of so-called pests rather than the knee-jerk response, kill.  The information is all out there on the net.  It is not just the creatures that are commonly seen that are at risk, like bees, our rising pollution levels mean that species from the tiniest microbe to elephants are under threat. Why elephants? Simple, the flora they eat will eventually contain enough poisonous substances to cause harm to them, although that may already be happening. We humans, through ignorance, greed and carelessness, have done untold damage to earth. It may well be too late now, but maybe, just maybe if we all started thinking before we sprayed insecticide, fungicide or any other -cide, dumped responsibly, recycled and started using truly natural products where we can, we could turn things around just enough to right the balance.

Remembering the tomboy.

I have a wonderful, diverse group of female friends.  We meet for coffee when we can at our local spot to catch up on news, share information, laugh, encourage and console.  We all aspire to be positive as a rule.  Granted life can get us down from time to time, but we generally bounce back quickly because we have each other.  Some of us are naturally serious, some boisterous, some quiet, some have problems to deal with behind the scenes, but still manage to see the silver lining on their personal clouds.  For me, this is a breakthrough because for years I used to be intimidated by women, possibly due to an overbearing mother, and this resulted in me being a bit of a tomboy.  I was more drawn to male pursuits.  In those days I was the only female surfer sitting out in the waves on my board.  I drove fast, could change a tyre and tinker in the engine if I needed to.  I played league pool and revelled in winning.  I chose a then, male dominated job as a paramedic.  I suppose I made sure I was self reliant.  It is a trait I have carried with me through my life and I am glad I have it.  Never would I have entertained the idea of sharing any woe I may have had with anyone, let alone a female.  I scoffed at the notion of painted nails,  girlie get-togethers and pink.  It was a bit of a lonely existence I realise now, but then it suited me perfectly.  My fear of nasty women made it so.  I am not sure exactly what happened to change this, age possibly?  Being comfortable in my skin? Meeting women who are genuinely non-judgemental and kind hearted?  Whatever it was, it took half my life.  It feels so good to be free of the fear. Much of the credit must go to my female friends. They have taught me what I should have known a long time ago.  Being part of a group of women is empowering, fun and, I feel now, a necessary part of womanhood.

The odd need to fabricate.

Quite rational human beings have a way of suddenly becoming rather "all knowing" when it comes to passing on of the juicy "facts" of a matter.  I have noticed this on Facebook ad nauseum and while listening to conversation about, say, a missing person's case I am immersed in.  The gist of the story told is true, but the facts are twisted and parts of the story, fabricated. I never divulge any information until all is said and done because that is the way I am.  My paramedic training taught me to be covert with information about a patient as a matter of ethics so I tend to be like that as a matter of course.  I hear all manner of clearly made up facts about incidents I have attended to and I have to wonder why.  Is it the enjoyment of being "the one to know," the shocked look on the faces of others when particularly imaginative gruesome details are described?  People insist they know first hand because their brother's neighbour's best friend witnessed the event!  Is it boredom, glory seeking or the endless quest for likes on FB?  Is it the need to start a frenzy or incite panic so the perpetrator can sit back on the safe side of cyberspace and revel in their hollow victory?  I like to collect facts, but I make sure those facts are correct and in context.  Anyone can edit a picture to suit their needs these days as well as change the tone of an article with a slightly different use of words.  Putting a conspiracy spin on things is another way people turn something simple into something perhaps indelicate.  I like to look at all angles and I admit to being a bit of a conspiracy theorist, but carefully and with discretion.  How else would an amateur armchair detective such as I solve cases?  Think as a criminal would think and expect the unexpected, of course. I find it fascinating to put myself in the shoes of other minds! I am sure I will find the answer to my wonderings, but in the meantime, I encourage people to think for themselves, question, research and don't fabricate stories for effect. Someone out there knows the truth of the matter.

On hatred.

I wonder what has caused people to hate each other?  The life I live includes all people.  I may not get on with some people and I may disagree with the things others believe in, but I do not hate anyone.  That said, I will attempt to understand every point of view by listening, questioning and making up my mind about where to put that information in relation to my beliefs.  Let me get to the point.  What I am is pondering is racism.  Racism is a subject that people skirt around, especially here in South Africa.  Most people, sadly not all, have become hyper-aware of what they say and how they say it particularly when it comes to speaking about people of a different colour.  It is truely a "walking on eggs" issue.  If someone utters a possibly racist word or comment, there is usually an uncomfortable silence, nervous laughter and averted eyes.  The subject is either quickly changed, justified or challenged.  I challenge because I want people explain why they felt it necessary, in this day and age or ever, to say the hurtful things they do.  I cannot see how colour causes such division, cruelty and apathy.  To be constantly hateful of people unknown to you?  That is unfair.  If someone wrongs you, you have a reason perhaps, but just because someone is a different colour?  It is perplexing.  I have no idea when this began or why, but I feel that it is the product of ideologies passed down from generation to generation.  If parents hate the government, children will probably become anti-establishment.  One child may disagree and break away risking a life-long family feud.  The same is true with families who have always practiced racism.  Children learn to hate something or someone because they are expected to!  The worst part is the reasons people give for being racist.  They are too upsetting to write, so all I shall say is that they are unjustifiable and dehumanising.  Look to the person next to you, do they not fear, love and laugh, feel loss and worry about their children like you do?  You still hate them?  Now take off their skin, what do you see?

Death as I see it.

No matter what, death is inevitable at some stage. It is a feared conclusion to life for the young, less so for older people and sometimes welcomed by the elderly or the terminally ill.  It is those who are left behind who are affected.  People try to sidestep the grief of those bereaved as they fear grieving themselves. Death, dying and the aftermath is a lonely process for those involved because it is avoided by others and terribly misunderstood.  When people discover that I have worked on ambulances, they often comment on the fact that I must have witnessed death.  They ask with trepidation about how I cope.  I have an understanding because death is part of life. I have an understanding because I feel that death is simply stepping beyond the veil. I do not believe in heaven and hell.  It is part of the human condition to threaten with judgement.  Hell, in my understanding, is here on earth!  I feel that heaven is an ideal way of being, where all knowledge is, all beauty and everything is possible. When people are dying, I often see them standing next to their physical bodies.  I feel immensely privileged to be the one to silently tell them what has happened and to point them in the right direction.  The right direction is up to them, either back into their bodies or towards the light.  It is a truth that loved ones who have already died wait to welcome.  This has never been a frightening aspect of my life, it just is as it is.  Another comforting understanding is that dead loved ones are but a thought away.  So many people tell me that they wish they could speak to their loved ones and I say, but you can!  Just allow your mind to float and listen.  It may be your voice you hear, but the words will comfort.  Be open to signs.  A sign could be a song on the radio, it could be a beautiful bird in an unusual setting.  It will resonate.  Dreams are another common way communication takes place, especially shortly after the death.  Be open, don't doubt. Ask for advice, ask for comfort and you will receive it. People scoff at the notion that all this could be true. I ask, why shouldn't it be?

My place in the sun.

South Africa is a vast, diverse, complicated country.  From the sea to the mountains, the desert and savannah, the driest and most humid, the incredible wealth and appalling poverty.  From fun in the sun to crime-ridden.  From the stunningly beautiful vistas to the ghetto-like informal settlements.  South Africa is my home.  I grew up during the apartheid era, hardly realising there was a crisis for our people, because where I grew up was liberal and everyone played together.  When I grew old enough to realise what was going on, I took a stand in my own way and ended up in trouble more than once.  I am not a sit-on-the-fence type of person.  Something is either right or wrong and when human beings are denied their rights, it is wrong.  Our liberation in 1994 was a time when it felt as if people who had been imprisoned in the dark, slowly and with wonderment, walked out into the light hardly daring to breathe!  We could go to pubs and clubs with our friends, all our friends, without reprisal.  Some had a hard time adjusting and some have sadly, never adjusted.  I have had the priviledge of working with every echelon of society during my time on the ambulances.  I have met people living in this country with views about every topic imaginable.  I have been shocked and saddened, elated and empowered.  Still there is hope.  South Africans, no matter who they are, are a breed of people who, despite our torrid history, have a disposition that is unlike any other I have come across in any other country.  We "make a plan."  We come together in time of need and do what we have to do. Now on the eve of an important election, I sit in hope that South Africans make the informed decision to keep our country growing instead of allowing the insidious creep of greed and corruption to take hold more firmly than it has. This trend will ultimately destroy us by plundering our resources until there is nothing left for anyone. We have come so far, let us not backslide now.

Being a psychic human continued. . .

It seems to be believed that the practice of meditation is integral to ease of access to "the other side."  Meditation is essentially the stilling of the mind.  The common comment on this is "I can't keep my mind from wandering off."  I say, "let your mind wander off wherever it wants to go! "  That feeling of having lost time when engrossed in an activity you enjoy IS meditation.  Harnessing "blankness" is all part of being able to quiet a wakeful, active mind.  Once this is understood, it becomes easier to allow yourself to sink into the stillness and while in that state simply let thought, images and feelings happen. For me stillness is not often required to "see" psychically.  If someone is missing, for example, I simply look into my mind to see what is there. I experience feelings like fear or confusion, I see images of places and things, I have glimpses and flashes of things that may be a combination of all of the above.  Sometimes it is like watching a movie and sometimes as clear as a pool of mud!  When it is one massive vortex of confusion, applying one's own logic is not advised.  Just allow it to be and it eventually morphs into a coherent pattern. This is where I may employ the stillness to help.  I remember the first time I stood in front of an audience to perform clairvoyance.  There was an elderly couple in the back row and I had a message for them, but it seemed so silly, I didn't relay it to them.  I had seen a line of baby penguins, holding flippers, doing a dance!   It bothered me so much that a few weeks later I told them what I had seen. They turned to each other and smiled.  It transpired that their only son, who had died, had been a baby penguin keeper.  That illustrated to me that I must trust what I am given and give what I get without bias or logic.  Putting your own spin on what comes into your mind can irrevocably change the message and as a consequence not be understood by those it is meant for.  Keep it simple, allow what comes to float by with no analysis and you are well on your way to being a psychic human.

Healing hands.

As with intuitive ability being part of every human being, so I believe, is the ability to harness healing power. The concept of healing hands is not new, but it is looked upon with some contempt in our modern society. Quick cures doled out by medical practitioners are seen as the way to go, not mumbo-jumbo.  Everything has a place and a balanced combination of orthodox and alternative medicine makes good sense to me. Yet, a mother will naturally hold her hurt child and touch the spot to make it better.  If the intention is to heal so it will be.  In the practice of Reiki, universal energy is harnessed to heal for the patient's greatest good. Hands are placed either on or above the patient's body.  Often a feeling of comfortable warmth is commented on by the person.  There are no instant results and people are sceptical that any healing has taken place.  After a while people report not only healing, but also a shift in consciousness towards a more peaceful way of being.  Healing can be sent to whomever may require it, across the globe if need be using thought alone.  Humans need to try and understand that we are capable of great things if we just allow ourselves to do them.  And by the way, no title is going to make natural healing ability more powerful.  Intention is the vehicle, that is all.

Resonance.

Resonance is the quality in a sound, and spoken words are sound. True words spoken resonate in a different way to words that are untrue. This is why it is easy to uncover lies if you listen to the music of speech.  Physiologically the stress that underpins lying causes vocal pitch to rise a little. Human beings are more inclined to tell the truth so the mental stress of lying causes unnatural body language and speech patterns to name but a few indicators.  Listening is so important and few have mastered the skill.  Most are formulating their next imput instead of concentrating on the conversation. Conversation is incredibly complex. Not only are there words, but it matters what type of words are used. Pitch and tone of how the words are said, body movement or lack thereof, eye contact and reading between the lines all play a role.  For a person trained in interrogation, sniffing out deception is usually very easy. For us mere mortals, a little more difficult, although we are aware that something does not feel right. Even if we don't know what to look for, our subconscious mind has picked up on a lack of resonance.  I wonder if one of the reasons why the world is such a difficult place to live in is because the "nails on a chalk board" sound of lies has overtaken the beautiful melody of truth and resonates around us causing disharmony in the ether.