Just Try

It was a summer of grief. I sat there wondering about the gollum of tomorrow which is really a paradigm for all things that could go wrong. The other end of that was perhaps a flute but I had none. Therefore the evening was filled with stress.

Far-off friends and tricky situations and there, there was politics on the horizon. I was intuitively reading the moment. Great, just how does one escape the current moment, ever? Ideals like floating orbs, at least there was a chance to catch one of those.

A heavy sigh permeated the room but I hadn't taken a breath. He said something that didn't make sense and I refused to respond to what I couldn't understand.

Try as I would I could not even conjure an answer. It was a stupid question so why bother, silence was better. A moment later, he left the room. "I thought you told me she was controlled," heard just out of earshot.

This is the thing with people who are the quiet types. For some reason, people think we can't hear them when they are a mere eight and a half feet away. They think because we are quiet that we're stupid. He started to say something in earnest to his friend on the phone as he went around the corner of the other room but was cut off again, "this does not appear to be at all what you said." I sat there staring at the television, expression unchanged.

Now I ask you reader, if you overheard such a thing would you just sit there or would you leave the place? Most would say, leave. However, if you think about it, what would that say, why would you leave? Something you would have to answer to later. Would you reply in some non-amorous sky, just what the fk did that mean because most definitely you would get an answer that would be a lie. What more did that statement mean was a reason to hang out longer.

Mistake.

If a man, any man speaks in the same sentence when referring to a woman, any woman, the word "control" in such a way as assuming agreement with another, in that context, you leave. You kick him to the curb, drop him like a hot potato, ditch him like a bagged salad sitting in the heat, dump him like a soul that is never going to cross over, forget him like a minute dust particle and move on. Get the picture? There is control and there is c o n t r o l that has an evil reach.

I was casually and innocently introduced to the man by a neighbourly friend. It was starting to be all bad vibes.

The curse of salvation sat between our two souls. One damned for sure and one trying for peace.

The spirits above both residing in a higher domain than either was aware of, watched the circus below. We will save her.

There is a kind of harmony in the beginnings of spiritual ointment. Or wetting your feet in higher skies. It comes in faith. An inherent trust with each breath you take that life is taken care of no matter the circumstances. There is "going with the flow," which can be a good outcome or it can lead one to disastrous circumstances and there is a trust in God that he is watching over you and no matter which way it goes you will survive. So that was the wind between my angst. Angst was a new feeling for me and I did not quite know how to process it.

I had already learned this in life, about the narcissistic way of some men, a brief learning in life a long time ago. Perhaps it was a way of preparing me in case I ever bumped into one again. Perhaps it was never again supposed to happen. Regardless there I was.

A Medium has a profound sense of completion. So that anything the slightest unsettling unnerves the crowd of energies between people, not ghosts. But let's not get too into it here.

The predicament laid before me required skills of challenge, intellect, calming nature and intuition. If this went the wrong way there could be harm. Platonic camaraderie instead of a token quarrel that was sure to be. I was stuck. Or felt that way.

"How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days," a popular movie as guidance. I tried everything the movie said. No luck.

Then, believe it or not, there was a ghostly presence. Smoke alarms going off on their own, spatulas that were quietly resting dropping to the floor, erratic satellite static on the television. A feeling in the bones of my hands that I could not get rid of. This added tension.

Then I had a dream. Through the dream, the words, "you will catch him and he will leave you alone." The rest of the dream was forgotten.

Within the course of a week not one, not two, but three different people told me of his various girlfriends that were seen there all the time. Aha. So I confronted him and it worked. No matter the beast, if confronted with a truth about his soul, will leave. How could he challenge what was already known? There was no romance regardless. It wasn't like that. At the most, it was a friendship getting distorted and going seriously sour. So catching him at his weakness, he had to accept his wrongness, not admitting guilt because that is just a feeling, but from a purely intellectual perspective he was caught, period.

So that was done, in all senses of the word. Memories are not fit here for repeating. Yet, I was left rattled to the core. But a survivor will not mire.

I went for a walk along the road next to the beach. Fresh air and sunshine. A daydream, the spirit of Larry, my long-time lover who I lived with for 13 years, had passed away two months earlier. In the dream he said to me, "Run. Run like no tomorrow. Get away from here and don't go back there." Jarred awake by my own footsteps, I turned to the beach that ran along the road, there must have been a hundred seagulls and at that very moment, they all flew in one cascading flock upwards. It was one of the most astounding natural sights I had ever seen. A sign of an angel. I quietly smiled and waited for the next turn in life...and ran.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/windsor/more-victims-feared-after-woman-drugged-choked-1.935582

The mantra: I am an indestructible force, I am an unassailable rock, I am a precious jewel.

The prayer: I am God's Child, I am protected by God's resolve and filled with light in force.

Lisa Lachapelle’s links: Vocal Stories & Website

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