It’s kind of funny (as in funny weird not funny ha ha) that since I’ve begun writing down stuff about my own psychic experiences the vaults are swinging open to long lost memories I’ve swept to the sides, and for the most part let moss grow on. I’m not one to dwell in the corridors of the past, but it’s somewhat necessary to get out the flashlight and go down a tunnel or two if I’m going to be of any use to up and coming psychics, to illustrate the ‘practical’ side of our gift. To be able to recognize it and utilize it when it matters most, when we are in danger.
I’d like to share a story that was very scary for me (I was only 14 at the time), but it is a perfect example of why we need to sweep our logical mind aside sometimes and just go with our ‘knowingness’.
Raised on a farm in rural Ontario, spring was always my favorite time of year. I have a special love of lilacs spanning back to my earliest toddler moments. I loved being able to grab an armful of the sweet and joyful blooms cascading abundantly onto the front porch of my parent’s home, pulling them to me as I inhaled deeply. They say that smell can trigger some of our most vivid memories, and to this day I have a wonderful association with them.
One of the gifts that pressed me to be appreciative and in the moment is the fleeting nature of this flower, which only has a two week lifespan before it withers and dies. It has become my seasonal ritual to seek out and commune with the lilac every spring since I began walking, so there I was during the 14th year of being top side on the planet in search of my old friend.
My parents had a little hobby farm where I grew up with my half lab-all mutt dog Duke who was only too happy to accompany me on my foray a couple miles up the dirt road. It was the middle of the day, and I knew I was trespassing onto some strangers’ property, but the light purple posies I’d come to collect for my mother’s table bouquet was just beyond reach of the fence line, and there was no way I was going home without my prize. As I stood by the bush with a few clippings in hand I saw an old Ford truck bobbing with the rolling hills in the distance. It reminded me of a roller coaster ride disappearing and reappearing from my view, but I had eagle eye sight back then and I was pretty sure I’d seen them but they hadn’t seen me.
Call it guilt for sneaking around on someone’s land without permission, a bit of paranoia, or maybe the touch of fear that was beginning to make its way from my stomach up into my chest, but I had the extreme desire to HIDE! I ran across the road onto the adjoining property and made my way to the tree line to blend into the foliage as Duke bounded past me presumably after a squirrel. I crouched, waiting for the truck to pass thinking to myself, ‘Self. You are such a ‘nob’. What are you doing? Clipping a few lilacs is not an offense punishable by death so what are you so worried about?” Still the feeling would not let up as my heart crashed against my chest.
A minute or two passed and then the truck decreased its speed as it came over the last hill and rolled to a halt. “What the hell were they doing? Guess I’m in trouble now.” I thought as I prayed they wouldn’t see me. “That farmer must be plenty pissed if they were going to this trouble over a little trespassing.” I kept perfectly still hoping that the fear in my chest wouldn’t cause me to light up like a Christmas tree. It just didn’t make sense. My emotions were racing and completely disproportionate to the situation at hand, and I knew this. Why then was I so scared?
The door creaked as a middle aged man got out and walked in my general direction. “I can see you.” He said, “So you might as well come on out.”.
Sheepishly I gathered myself up. “Busted.” I thought as I emerged from the bush to an open clearing, but then I was compelled to stop, and waited for him to make the next move. To my horror the man slowly and silently started towards me bridging the gap, removing first his belt and then unzipping his pants, his intentions becoming clearer. I stood my ground, finally understanding why my ‘instincts’ had been buzzing since I first saw that truck in the distance, comprehending my vulnerable position out in the middle of no where, wishing I had told someone where I was going that day before I’d headed out.
I stood my ground, fists clenched at my side ready to give this guy the fight of his life as was my nature when out of no where Duke screeched to a halt between us growling, bearing his teeth and making his intention clear. I found my voice then, and steadied it for all I was worth. “You see that dog mister? There’s something you need to understand. He will fight until one of you is dead, and unless you want to see how that turns out, I suggest you zip up your pants, get back in that truck, and keep on going.”
To my utter relief the man paused only for a moment while considering his options, and then did just that. Guess between the girl with the rock in her hand and the dog from hell he’d decided this was more fight than he’d bargained for. I sank to my knees once the drone of the engine was well beyond my hearing and nearly lost my insides on the spot. Thank God for Duke! Thank God for being Empathic. Thank you Clairsentience. I was in danger and I knew it! I just knew it! Why the hell hadn’t I listened!?
I have had other unpleasant experiences where by the same knowingness has kicked in when I needed to know the score. I have since learned not to reject these gems when they come my way, but rather to embrace them and stand alerted. I am sharing stories here on my blog that in many cases my own family haven’t heard, and so if they come across this I hope they won’t be offended that this is so. I simply feel that sometimes the truth is the best example we can offer for our insights, and I really hope to get the message across especially to young people, to please listen to your instincts, your feelings, your clairsentience when they pop up for you. It may just be the thing that saves your life.