Psychic Reading 1972

My last child was born in 1971, a Down Syndrome child with a terminal (at that time) mitral heart defect. Trying to make sense of this unexpected event which was traumatic to me (for years I couldn’t mention it publicly without crying), I sought out a psychic reading  in an attempt to make it fit into my experience of the world.  I just came across something I wrote about the reading, written three years later:

 

My aura is muddy with fear

the psychic said, three years ago,

as I sat hesitant before him,

searching out dim forces of my destiny.

A two-fold karmic mission

lies in wait for me, he said.

Mine to scale the heights of consciousness

and mine to loosen passive bonds.

Through action shall I free the captive

Soul of eons whose receptive mold has

fashioned the aura which I wear,

passive becoming active, opening up

my third eye and our third world

in a consciousness both higher and raised.

Today is Monday, June 30, 1975 AD.

Three years hence where shall I be?*

__________

The psychic reader was an official minister in his other role, and when my father subsequently died I asked if he would conduct the funeral service and include a “life reading” for him, so I could better understand why my father lived the life he had.

It was clear the psychic/minister was scandalized at the suggestion he bring his psychic activities into the church in a funeral.  I wondered how he put it all together in his head, or rather why he didn’t.

I reckon I’m going to have to work on freeing my captive soul the next time round.

(If nothing else works, a psychic reading can be briefly useful).

 

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
This entry was posted in A mixed bag, Down's Syndrome and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Psychic Reading 1972

  1. Sallie Carpentier says:

    Love the poem!

    Like

  2. I keep thinking about readings.

    Like

    • Nan Mykel says:

      What are your thoughts?

      Liked by 1 person

      • Should I get one. How do I find a reputable reader?

        Like

      • Nan Mykel says:

        If you are in extremist pain and need a balloon to hanq onto, yes. But now I think the minister just wanted to help traumatized individuals with his “readings.” If he really had put much stock in them himself he would hae welcomed them at a special funeral service, would he not? Well, maybe he was afraid of church politics, but it seems he could have provided some kind of quasi-memorial service at his own headquarters. But Ruth, if you’re really burning with curiosity, there’s no harm in it if you do it kinda for a lark. I don’t know your location, but most of us have a friend who is inclined in that way and has had a local experience. I guess I put more stock in my own unconscious now, which can be a good friend.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Nan Mykel says:

        My reply got sent while proofreading. Sorry.

        Liked by 1 person

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