You’re More Psychic Than You Think

March 15th 2024

I sat with my legs crossed in the big orange chair in our living room.

Eyes closed.

Breathing deeply in and out of my nose with my phone resting in my lap.

“Now I’m going to send you five different words one after the other,” the shamanic practitioner’s voice buzzed through the speakerphone, “And you just tell me what you’re experiencing, and then after we’ve gone through all of them I’ll let you know what the words were.”

“Ok sounds good, let’s do it!”

“Ok here’s the first one.”

My energy shifted quickly. A stern expression slid down my forehead and ironed the smile from my face.

My back straightened and my chin lifted as if confronting a snake.

I glared dead ahead of me.

I see you. I know who you are. You’re not foolin’ anybody.

“What are you feeling?” he asked.

I cowered in embarrassment. I didn’t want to sound mean. I rolled my words into a softer version of what I actually felt.

“Uhh stern? I’m sitting up straight. I feel solid.”

“Ok,” he said, “here comes the next one.”

My lips pursed and my chest started to heave as tears ran down my cheeks.

A cloud of red dust billowed from my body with every shaking sob.

“It’s alright,” he said hearing my sniffles through the phone, “You’re doing great. Let’s give you a minute and we’ll move on to the next one.”

I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my sweater and took a few deep breaths.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

“Ok here’s the next one!”

This one was drastically different from the last.

There were no physical or emotional sensations at all. I felt … sterile.

I became frustrated, not able to pick up on anything as if the line had been disconnected.

Then rows and rows of ticking numbers encircled my head as if I were inside a mad calculator. They moved so fast it felt like they were creating a vortex of confusion, and my head started rocking in a circular motion like a spinning dreidel.

The cats jumped up from their beds, onto my chair, and started chasing each other.

“What are you getting?” he asked.

“Uhh…it’s weird. Both the cats got up and started running circles around me. I’m having a hard time concentrating because numbers are swirling around my head like I’m being distracted so I can’t see or hear anything.

“Huh. Ok, let’s go to the next one.”

This time I felt such joy and lightness run through my body that I wanted to get up from the chair and lay on my back and kick my arms and legs in the air like a happy squealing baby.

“What about this one?” he asked.

“I feel such childlike joy. Complete play mode! I wanna kick my legs like a court jester!”

“Ok, last one.”

My spine straightened and I lifted my chin again, but this time not with a feeling of confrontation, but warmth and strength. I felt a beam of light shine down through my body, reminding me of who I am. To hold my head up, I am loved. I belong. I’m connected with everything that ever was and ever will be.

I described this to him and he asked, “Hm…is your father still with us or has he passed?”

“No he’s with us, I mean, we aren’t in contact at all and haven’t been for years so in a sense I guess, but no he’s still with us.”

“Hm well, that’s interesting. So the word I sent was father…”

As soon as he said that, it clicked for us both simultaneously and we gasped.

Oh whoa.

I went to my Father…

The real one.

The Boss.

I mean…how do we know God doesn’t sing Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out? He’s omnipotent.

My practitioner didn’t expect me to receive or interpret the word father as the all-knowing all-powerful energy that creates worlds.

Neither of us did.

But boy did it confirm a lifetime of inner knowing and calm a great deal of guilt about recognizing my family members as the stand-in teachers and healers they are in this lifetime.

He went through the list of words with me.

The first one when I got stern? He’d sent the name of a metaphysical shop in the area where we’d both gotten a feeling about the owner having…let’s say less than loving intentions with her work. (Trust yourself if a shop feels gunky y’all.)

When I cried and saw myself engulfed in a cloud of red? He’d sent the word abuse.

When the numbers circled my head and made me feel dizzy with confusion? He’d sent mormon priesthood.

I’m sorry, what’s that now!?

When I felt like I could do a jig and kick my legs in the air? He’d sent the word shaman.

No wonder I feel blocked when I try to take spiritual work too seriously! I’m at my truest and most powerful when I’m at my silliest and most playful!

This is a really fun exercise I like to integrate into my work sometimes to help people make decisions and recognize the language of their intuition.

It’s always there but sometimes it’s so blanketed under everything else rolling around in our internal and external worlds, that we can’t decipher the voice of our spirit from the incessant choir of confusion.

So this is an easy fun way we can pluck it from the rowdy crowd and hand it the mic for a minute.

You can even play with this by yourself!

Here’s one way-

Write a few different words on separate pieces of paper and lay them face down.

One at a time, keeping each piece of paper face down, place a hand on the back, and observe what you experience.

What emotions come up?

What do you just know?

What do you feel, see, hear, taste, and smell?

Make a note of it in a journal or notebook and write “Number 1" on the back of the paper.

Set it to the side and move to the next one, repeating the process and numbering.

After you’ve gone through all of them, match each number to the described sensations and flip them over to see what your gut feelings were.

It’s a really fun way to play with your discernment and natural abilities!

It can also help you trust and recognize your feelings, knowing they’re coming from an unbiased place much wiser than your analytical mind.

Know also that these interpretations are specifically for you.

Our higher wisdom doesn’t need anything to be right or wrong for anyone else because it doesn’t use comparison or consensus for decision-making.

Now go getcha psychic on!

Looka that fuzzy lil bat!!!

Authors Photo. Rygel knows when it’s meditation time in the big orange chair :)

I love you! Thank you for reading!