Mom and Ben

It's 4:00 am. I've been up for an hour. That's the problem with going to bed early. You wake up early too. Duh. Anyway, I received a supportive email from Abhay, who is just incredible. I've linked his name to just one of his sites. But, he mentioned that it was fun to see how the spiritual side of things went on with me during the time that I'm not "official" on the website. And, I was sort of thinking about it as I awakened.

Normally, these days' anyway, I awaken to the sound of multiple farts. Mine. One of the things I've noticed I've gotten as I've grown longer in the tooth and more connected to spirit is honest. So, to be honest, first thing out of the bag, I'm farting. Sorry. I suppose this ought to be an adult only site to be talking like this, but, there it is. Luckily, as we've gotten older, my husband not only farts like I do, but he can't hear so good, so I don't wake him up. And, either my sense of smell has died or, like my mother, my farts don't stink, so we're lucky there.

Now, why am I talking like this? I think my mother would have a heart attack if she knew (she knows, Dear, she can hear you.)...yikes. Okay, that's the spiritual side, or at least, the psychic side of me. Okay, so Mom is standing by.

Something else I saw today as I surfed about prior to beginning an entry on my blog was two blogs right in a row. The first was a person who had posted pictures of his cat who had just passed on. He was grieving. I can understand. I've done the same thing. And, recently, too. I understand totally. But, the second blog, right on the heels of that one was a lady who said she missed her mother. And, her mother was not out of town. She had obviously passed on. In each instance I was moved to post a comment to each of those people to offer some comfort and to say that they could, indeed, any time they felt like it think of their loved ones, whether they were a cat or their mother. And, the cat would know and their mother would listen. But, I didn't have the courage to do it.

So, to be honest about it, I sort of feel like I've let somebody down.

I'm not certain that I really understand blogs. I've been interested in reading other people's blogs to see what they are talking about. I am so very interested in blogs written by women who have taken their places as professionals in the business place. Women who seemed to have direction and purpose in their lives. As opposed to myself who just sort of landed somewhere 35 years ago and kept putting one foot in front of the other day after day. Not that it was boring. Though, there were times when it was. And, there were even more times when I would be so frustrated with my job as a secretary. I'd never been trained as a secretary, it just sort of evolved. And, the bonus, too, is that eventually I became a channel. Who would have thought that could happen? But, the one thing that I do regret with emotions that boil up unexpectedly at times is that I've never had a child. In this lifetime anyway.

I can personally attest that life is swift and fleeting and if you don't make an effort to plan your family, take the time to do it, decide that you're going to do it, you aren't going to have a family that includes kids. Anyway, meet Ben. Ben is my son from another lifetime. Now, you didn't expect to be reading this did you? Not in a normal blog, anyway. No, this is the opportunity to see what can happen to a woman who periodically grieves her unborn children to speak to the spirit of one of her sons from a prior lifetime.

I remember when Ben first came to speak to me. I asked him if I'd been a good mother to him and he said no. He said I used to drive him up the wall, but that didn't mean he didn't love me any less for it. So, I suppose, it was almost like it had really happened. I've heard of folks who have relationships with their mothers sort of like that. It might have been. Over the years, especially on days like Mother's Day when Mothers are saluted and congratulated and I'm feeling sort of left out Ben will pop by to say, "Hey". I don't know what Ben looks like (though somebody, Ben probably, just said he looks like me).

The difference between how I feel now and how I felt before I learned to channel and could talk to Ben and the guides is that before the grief was unrelenting. Now, it is bittersweet. Ah, he just kissed me. He hugged me and kissed the side of my face. Sometimes it just rises up and you can feel and experience those on the other side in ways that will bring you to your knees. And, that's what I'd like to share with others. That they can do this too. It's like I was only here 20% of the way before. Now, I'm experiencing life 100%...well, 85% anyway. Let me move through menopause and I'll be more here.

Now, the reason I bring this up is that when I awakened this morning and was farting around trying not to awaken my husband and attract the cats (noises let them know I am awake and ready to pet them) was I begin as I do every day, to talk to the guides. I used to say, "Excuse me." I don't anymore. They don't seem to mind. I just got a visual of Seth lifting a cheek to release his own fart. God, this is hilarious sometimes. Anyway, I made the comment, silently in my head to them that this, my situation, our being able to talk, just being a channel was sort of like having the benefits of having gone crazy without any of the bad things associated with it. I'm not sure what would be bad about being crazy other than paranoia which wouldn't be cool. Or hurting yourself or others. But, my life is pretty neat. You're just never alone.

The point? Well, I don't know that there was one here. It felt sort of aimless and yet there were a couple of things I needed to say. Maybe the value of a blog isn't so much in who is reading it but the benefit the writer derives from having shared something of herself or himself with the universe.

That must be it. If this were a piece of art I, as the artist, would probably get nowhere quickly by trying to create the art for somebody. No..that's not it. It's like when you write I've heard it said you can't keep thinking about selling the book. You'll ruin it or ruin the process. You've just got to write. So, if I could imagine the stage fright I'd have if I were standing before a huge group of people, knowing there were all these folks out there listening to me even if I couldn't see their faces because the lights trained on me had blinded me... I've got to just be here and be myself and with the purpose of allowing others to see that being a psychic isn't scary or totally weird, but it is different, maybe they needn't feel afraid if their own psychic natures begin to develop.

Maybe some of this will evolve into something...and, maybe not. But, it's Friday and I haven't felt the creative juices rise like this in awhile.