The Oracle

I’m kinda psychic.

My witchiest-witch-friend used to say, ‘listen to your gut, if it rolls, don’t fucking hit send’.
Aaaaaaaaaaaand I would hit send and cry about it.
She never said I told you so.
She doesn’t lie, nor does my gut, they forgive and hope for the best next time.
There is always a next time.

I get messages from the universe meant for other people. I don’t even try to pretend it’s me talking anymore. My job is to open my mouth when I should and keep it shut when I shouldn’t. I’ll tell you the thing, take it or leave it. Decide I am crazy if it suits ya. I used to think the same thing. Who wouldn’t? Having these loud voices in your head yelling at people walking by. Life got better when I started opening my mouth, both for me and the receivers of said messages.

I also receive messages for myself, they come in patterns and waves and sometimes this crystal clear voice seconds before waking from a dream. Or sometimes in the dream itself. Random words or numbers that trigger a bigger picture and things just make sense. Right now I am in limbo. The Universe has reverted to snail mail. My job … is to wait. Tumbling the information I have around until it becomes smooth and handle-able. Or grind it to dust and let it float away on the wind, or both or all. Like I said, my instructions are unclear at the moment. This too shall pass, or someone will comment here and say “do the thing”. This is how my life works. I was speaking to kidlet this morning and we are both in this riptide, getting pulled out, wanting equally to roll with it and get back to shore. He got a message for me…”fill the hole”. We laughed. Double entendres…always with the the double fucking entendres. Everything is a metaphor. Except when it isn’t.

BBP (Biker Body Pillow) used to say I wasn’t psychic. That I just have a really good memory and decipher patterns and make connections using past experiences. Made me feel like Rain Man for a minute.

“Hot water burn baby” and so does leaving me without a fucking word. Saw that coming too, even told him so. So be it, I don’t need any more naysayers in my life. I want people who say, “Yes, you are bizarre, and I like it.” You don’t have to believe me to believe in me.

As with any gift ever, tangible or not…squander it and lose it, or nurture it, practice, have a little faith and BOOM. It gets better. I have a lot of faith. Basically what happened is I used my really good memory and deciphered the patterns and what they spelled out is “On a long enough timeline, everything gets better. On a long enough timeline, everyone leaves…all of this is alright. Look at you Little Miss Sassypants, the weeping girl who thought she couldn’t live without this or that or him or her, looks like you are living to me, and smiling about it.”

I almost lost it back in the days when I almost lost me. To be fair, I hadn’t a clue about who I was/am. I was busy burying the parts of me deemed unacceptable. He found an awful lot about me to be unacceptable, mirrors of things he wanted to be and couldn’t. Hell is knowing what is happening and not stopping it. Those neon flashing signs of ‘he’s doing the thing and lying about it’ that refuse to remain silent, they were on the list. I wonder why. Probably because he was doing the thing, and lying about it.

I’m decidedly better now. At a lot of things. I am a better lover, friend, mother, human being et al. I just started enjoying and cultivating these things I am and have. Like watering seeds and letting them grow rather than yelling at dirt.

So what good is this gift?

I see things that are about to happen, sometimes I do the stupid thing anyways.

No, I ain’t mad. That would be ludicrous. ‘You did the thing I told you you were going to do if I did the thing’. Wait, we already talked about this. I don’t even care what was in the box anymore.

Knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it any less painful. “I told you so” doesn’t put the rubble back to houses after an earth quake. He wasn’t an earth quake, more like a big truck going by. Rattled the dishes a bit. And telling yourself ‘I told you so’, exercise in torture. Fuck it, learn something, be like Elsa and let it fucking go and move on. Probably wouldn’t leave the house much if I was prone to anger at the shit I see coming. I ain’t handing out gold stars for being predictable neither. Nor am I content with less attention than a side bitch.

I do observe and understand human behaviour with a Master’s degree. And like every good student, I know I’ll never be done learning. I am learning more every day, now that I know how to listen. Empathy, sacred contracts, quieting my mind so I can really hear,  connections and man logic are languages I have learned, but like any language, use it or lose it. Still psychic though.

BBP would ask me what I thought was going to happen with the 20-something he was fixated on.
Honey, if I could crack the code of those born in the 80’s, I’d sit back and enjoy and probably weep for the future at the same time. Wouldn’t leave the house much either way.

I date 20-somethings. They are less accountable than I, or him or that other one and that one up there. If I say I’m getting shredded and I get shredded I have no right to rain down fire and brimstone. Even if I don’t say I am going to get shredded, you came, I came…contract fulfilled. No earthquakes, no rubble, no hurricane Sarah. Just go, its fine. Gold star. Be nice to the next girl please.

Just because I predict lousy behavior or know someone is lying doesn’t make it acceptable by the way.
Throw a plate on the ground, did it break? Yes. Now. Say sorry to it, is it unbroken. No.

“What’s really going to cook your noodle later is would you still have broken it if I hadn’t said anything.” The Oracle (The Matrix)

Resolution comes on October 10th 2015, by the way. I know this. As soon as the clock strikes midnight.