Betsy Robinson, author of funny literary stories about flawed people, is a perpetual seeker of truth.

From books to music to theater and fine art, from online TV to DVDs, this blog takes a look at current culture through a spiritual perspective — with a touch of humor.

Materials under the "review" tag are a mix of free review copies (books, DVDs, etc.) in exchange for a review, to library copies, to materials and tickets I've paid for.

A Really Bad Hair Day (Feb. 13 blog)

The Art of Collapsing (Feb. 6 blog)

Life is only temporary says Evan Handler (Jan. 28 blog)

The New World of Finance (Jan. 28 blog)

All about growing up in a cult (April 16 blog)

Fierce Giving (Jan. 8 blog)











(Copyright © 2008-2014 Betsy Robinson. All rights reserved)

Notes from a Crusty Seeker

Psychic Messages?

January 16, 2009

Tags: fun

Sometimes the messages I receive are really straightforward — like my dog vaulting out of bed at 4 a.m. this morning and demanding we go for an emergency poop.

Sometimes they’re questionable — in the form of sudden information that fills my cranium about something I have no way of knowing.

Sometimes they’re nothing spooky at all. Really just the product of observation — like the character Patrick Jane explains in the TV series, The Mentalist. I love that show. In this New Age carnival we’re in, it seems like everybody wants to declare their extra-sensory perceptions, and most of the time I think there’s nothing psychic about knowing stuff. It’s just a matter of watching and listening.

But this morning, post-emergency poop, lounging in my chair at 5 a.m. drinking coffee, in the middle of feeling extremely cozy and mellow, I suddenly “heard” some disruptive news. To tell you the truth, if this stuff is real, it really pisses me off since there is not a damn thing I can do about it, and I know from past experience that most people don’t want to hear warnings about psychically-known disruptions. (Myself included. How many times have I ignored that stuff in order to do it “my way”?)

Unlike my professional psychic mogul/astrologer/author friend Stacey Wolf, I cannot know things at will. When they come, they come unbidden, sometimes unwelcome, sometimes waking me up.

But I was already wide awake when my dog announced her emergency this morning. (Perhaps because I slept backwards. Stacey had informed me the feng shui of my bed was wrong, and although I’m not sure I believe in feng shui, I thought it might be fun to reverse my head position after 30+ years of sleeping in one direction.) In any event, when my dog leapt over me, I was so grounded I bounded right after her, almost happy for the adventure of going to Central Park in the frigid dark and scooping up invisible diarrhea with a plastic bag as a police car lingered, no doubt wondering if I was nuts.

And when I returned home, I was still grounded and happy. And perhaps that’s why I am appreciating the message that followed the disruptive one. It goes something like this:



In case you can’t read that, it’s Thomas Moore’s book Care of the Soul. The title was lit up as if from an inner luminescence. Yes, I know it’s because it’s designed in gold leaf which picked up the light from my little end table lamp. But the point is, it picked up the light. Something made me turn my head and notice that it was picking up the light.

“Take care of your soul,” it was saying.

And I thought you might like receiving that message too.











Comments

  1. January 17, 2009 8:14 AM EST
    Betsy - I'm very familiar with those middle of the night dog awakenings. What a good dog mama you are! Taking care of my soul may be the best advice anyone can give me right now - Even better than taking care of my fingers and toes in this insane cold! Thanks.
    - Victoria Cummings

Selected Works

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Big Moose Prize-winning novel
a funny, sometimes sad, story of negotiating life without a clue

New on Kindle--a funny book for foodies who are committed to self-change through self-awareness
an epistolary memoir ... sort of
A funny and moving little book for anyone who's had a mother or struggled with being human.
anthology of stories and plays
includes Darleen Dances and stories below

play
1-act play

short story
the problem with worrying about the future

true story
Why I don't believe in death.

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