Confession of Not-A-Psychic
Copyright© 2017 T. Riggs
I have a confession. I have, what many people believe to be, psychic abilities.
My skills, perceived as metaphysical for some crazy reason, are in prognostication. A touch of psychokinesis. And the occasional instances of mind reading.
But psychic? Pah… I don’t believe in that stuff. Besides… since when is paying attention to the world around you a metaphysical skill?
Prognostication: I can predict the future based solely on past events. Cause and effect baby… for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Well, except government. That’s more of a parabolic, gravitational field adjustment – and can take years. And then, well, there are the usual risks of rogue comets, asteroids, and other space debris.
Psychokinesis: I short-out light bulbs and drain watch batteries when I am upset. In fact, I am in the habit of doing yoga breaths before touching light or lamp switches. Hey, light bulbs get expensive. The watch battery thing I fixed years ago… I only wear a watch when I leave the house. That seems to limit the instances of emotional overload to half-time and keep me from changing watch batteries every other month or so… Okay… no explanation for this one… but I have seen research on things like metabolism and electromagnetic energy that we naturally produce at low levels…
Mind Reading: I have had more than my share of instances of hearing someone’s thoughts in my head. But come on… I can see perfectly how their body language counter-balances their facial expressions and voice intonation. Yes, I can tell when you’re trying to be polite. The voices? Eh… chalk it up as imagination.
Once I realized, and grudgingly accepted my abilities I began to willingly and willfully use them. At the end of every year, I developed a method and thus habit, of meditating on what the New Year would bring. Yep, every year, I would ponder the probable and likely events of the coming year.
Well, except for last year, 2016.
I think, well, I know, because I said as much out loud to whoever would listen… I didn’t WANT to know.
Now that the year is off to a running start with a Trumped presidency though, my psychic skills are beginning to get annoying. You know, that nagging tap-tap-tap and excuse me of an impertinent 6 year old that wants to tell you some inane story about their pretend friend?
Yep. That is what it feels like.
So, for weeks, as I suffered through news feed this, and tweeted that… the tap-tap-tap continued. I tried the ‘that’s nice honey, go along and play’ approach.
Tap-tap-tap. Ugh… okay, listen to part of it. How cute, yes, I know that building the wall and revoking NAFTA and the TPP will cause 1980’s like inflation to start again… that’s obvious. You’re cute. Go away.
But that wasn’t good enough. The inevitable keeps tap-tap-tapping on my psychic door.
Yes honey, the travel ban is unconstitutional, and against our core values as a nation of immigrants and refugees. But, see! There’s protests and support! The Muslim community is being shown an unprecedented amount of solidarity and support. It’s going to be fine!
My lecture didn’t work…
Now the tapping is tugging at my sleeve and whispering, we are being distracted.
Even as I sit here at the computer, typing out this blog, the tugging and tapping continues… By what, my love… I mean, he’s been pretty busy, no stone has been left unturned? What could he be possibly distracting us from?
Everything. The tapping-now-tugging says.
Everything? Geez… what the hell do you expect me to do?
Well… ha! Finally. Silence.