Are You Psychic? The Sum of Intuition and Ego


As children my younger sister would say she was psychic and tell me about her psychic experiences. I recall, for better or worse, vehemently discouraging such a line of thought. I would tell her that she is not a psychic and if she continued to say she was, then she was a liar. Dismayed, she eventually stopped announcing that she was a psychic to us sisters and maybe even stopped letting herself acknowledge so-called “psychic” experiences when she had them. In retrospect I regret my harsh and ignorant stance, but at the time (and I was a tween myself) I believed it was for her own good: she couldn’t run around in public telling people she was psychic. How would people take her intellect seriously if she did?

Now I have always been convinced that my sister may have had strong intuitive abilities for what may be beyond the five physical senses, not unlike the way all the women from my maternal line are drawn to the preternatural. My grandmother, my mother, my first cousins descending from my grandmother, and my sisters all display a heightened awareness of the logically inexplicable. But psychic?

I saw it this way: when you are a voracious reader, at some point you will want to give it a try and become a writer yourself. Likewise, if you’re fascinated by metaphysics and occult phenomenon, at some point you will want to be part of it, and maybe even convince yourself that you’re psychic. Not too different from how I try to convince myself that I’m a writer even though I have yet to publish a damn thing.

Sure, I am convinced that intuition is real. Intuition is the perception of a truth, occurring incident, circumstance, or event independent of any logical reasoning, actual knowledge, experience, or cognitive deductive process. It is synchronicity. It is a prickling of what is about to happen before it happens. It is the sensation of energies that you can’t physically see, hear, smell, touch, or taste, a sensation for when those energies are in balance and when they are out of balance, and the enigmatic knowing of how you might be able to balance it if you were to try.

Being intuitive is like being detail-oriented, or organized, or calculating differential equations. Not everybody is detail-oriented, organized, or able to do math, but anybody can be with enough effort. It is just a skill, albeit a remarkably empowering one when we use it. It might also be a trait. Some seem naturally disposed to it and others need to really work to acquire the skill. I guess somehow those who seem naturally disposed to being intuitive have come to be referred to as psychic.

My question is: where on the continuum of intuitive ability must one be for that person to qualify as “psychic”?

Continue reading “Are You Psychic? The Sum of Intuition and Ego”

Synchronicity: A Personal Story


Within the family this is old news but I never got around to talking about it. A while back, the Hubby went to Peru and we missed each other terribly. To pass the time at home by myself, I got into painting. I hesitate to post photos because they’re not great paintings. They’re just amateur hobbyist paintings. Like George Bush but actually his paintings weren’t half bad. Anyway I digress.

One weekend I painted what you see above. For fun, I took a picture of the painting and e-mailed it to the Hubby. However, the day I e-mailed it he wasn’t somewhere accessible to the Internet, so he didn’t see it until the day after.

While I was painting that painting, he was on a hike through Machu Picchu. On the hike, he and his friend saw a barebacked fellow with a very conspicuous tattoo of a nude woman rolled up in a fetal position, hair forward in her face, with angel wings and sword, and appearing up on tip toes. It was memorable because jokingly, the friend pointed at the tattoo and said to my Hubby, “Your wife would be ecstatic if you came home with a tat like that.” The two laughed it off and continued on their hike.

The next day when he had access to Internet, he saw my e-mail sent from the night before with the image attachment of my painting. He showed it to the friend he was with, the one who pointed out the tattoo. “Holy shit,” he said, “that’s exactly what we saw the other day.”


It was confirmed again when Hubby’s friend visited our house. He saw the painting and remarked about the peculiarity of the coincidence. It was unexplainable how they could be seeing an image as a giant tattoo on someone’s back in Peru while I painted it on a canvas in California. It was a synchronicity, a coincidence that I don’t know how to rationalize and yet feel ever so compelled to come up with a reasonable explanation. My want for an explanation is even tempting me to indulge in irrational, fanciful ideas.

The painting is now hung up on our bedroom wall, but Hubby doesn’t like it. “It’s weird,” he says about it. “Can’t you paint mountains and lakes like normal people?”

When I finished I titled the painting Galatians 3.19.

Why, then, was the law given at all? It was added because of transgressions until the Seed to whom the promise referred had come. The law was given through angels and entrusted to a mediator.

The painting is my critique of law and dissent. If the law was ordained by angels to prevent humans from indulging in their strong propensities for evil, then how and why is it that the same law can oppress righteous and moral dissenters? In the painting, the man hung (reminiscent of The Hanged Man from the tarot) is innocent. However, what’s unclear is whether he has been hung for dissent against the authorities in power or whether he has allowed himself to be hung as a sacrifice for a greater good. And is he in fact the “Seed to whom the promise referred”? If yes, what is the irony that he manifests on earth as a dissenter and the authorities in power use the same law ordained by the angels to silence him?

It was intentional to me that the angels’ objectives in the painting are unclear. The angel at the bottom, the one Hubby and his friend saw as a tattoo on someone’s back, is holding a rope taut, but is it to protect the hanged man and keep him from falling or is she the one who strung him up for the hanging?

The angel with the two swords is my rendition of Justice. Justice as it is administered to humans is not blindfolded, but rather blind. There are no scales for balancing. There are two swords to keep the dissenters in check and justice as it is applied to humanity is just the balance of those two swords. Justice is not free to be fair and impartial about the law. She is bound by that law and thus Justice can only be as incorruptible or fair as the actual laws, which are neither incorruptible nor fair because by its design, innocents become collateral damage.

Funnier yet to me is while Hubby was in Peru, a riot broke up, one he was in the middle of. He even got tear-gassed. The whole thing still spooks me out.