A Note: Towards the middle of this piece, Seth, my Spirit Guide, joined in the conversation. I always put his part of our conversations in bold italics.
Silence. I once had it and took it for
granted. Now, I cannot find it. I figure it is one thing I might look forward
to after I die. But, until then, I have had to learn how to live with the ocean
in my ears.
It was my own fault, actually. I took a
lot of ibuprofen for my frozen shoulders and aching back. It went on for years.
I remember the doctor telling me about the shoulder business, “Welcome to your
forties.” All I can say is if you have chronic aches and pains, please be
careful about using ibuprofen. Yes, I know it works better than Tylenol or
aspirin. It can also damage your hearing. I will still occasionally take it if
I’ve got a particularly bad ache, but other than that, only occasionally. It is
what caused my own hearing loss.
One thing the ocean in my ears is good
for is to drown out other noises. I generally can’t hear the phone ring or the
doorbell. It’s only caused a problem every once in a while. Neighbors who could
not get to me to talk to and consequently had a meltdown, and once my husband
could not get his key to work. Otherwise? No, it’s not a bother. I wear
headphones when I am at my computer or watching television.
Besides, I write alone. I am alone. It
is my choice.
What I would like to do, though, is to
paint with words. I’m not exactly sure how I am going to do it. Sometimes, I
feel I come close. Maybe every quarter of a page, I might say something that
either feels good to me or chills me so that my hair stands on end.
Maybe it is like dancing. I grew up
when the twist was popular. Also, the shrug and the one where you pretend you
are swimming in the water. There is no set pattern to the way I dance. My
husband does not like to dance, so it was likely 40 years ago that we last
danced. If I dance, I dance alone. It’s just one of those things you accept as
your years pass by.
Actually, I have begun chair dancing if that is a thing. Part of it is just shifting my weight around and stretching my muscles if I get a particularly delightful song to listen to. What would make me dance?
This article has been sitting on my
desktop for a few days. If I’m honest, I think it’s been here for a week.
However, there was something about it that just wasn’t right. I didn’t know
what it was, and this morning I clicked back onto it. I’m thinking I really need
to create a document for my eyes only that just has silly shit in it.
Like what?
I don’t know. Okay, I’m going to take a
swing at it. Time will tell what it eventually becomes, but I’m hoping it will
be like exercises to just open up and be creative.
Let’s go. Oh, phooey. I don’t know how
to play anymore. Who said that?
All you’re doing is an experiment.
I thought I was going to do this by myself.
And ruin the fun?
No, really. I think I should do it by
myself.
What about a prompt if you freeze?
Who says I’m going to freeze?
You just did.
Laaaaa.
What was that?
I was singing in my head.
It didn’t sound like it.
Laaa. Laaa. La de daa! How’s that?
It would sound better if you sang it
aloud.
Dennis is still here. He’d want to know
what I am doing.
Well, you’ve put it in this article. Don’t
you think he might see it?
No, he doesn’t read my stuff. At all.
What if you made a lot of money doing
it?
I doubt it. Maybe if I pretended I’d
been drinking. I still remember doing that.
Okay.
I’m so witty. I’m so much fun. …shoot, I
can’t do it. This is like trying to take a dump when you’re constipated.
You could title this Constipation and
Writing.
You might have a point.
Seth?
Yes?
Why can’t I do this?
You actually don’t know what you want to
do.
Okay, point taken. It’s Saturday. Today
is for fun.
If you say so.
I’m pretending I’m a little kid again.
Why?
Why not? Saturdays were always fun then.
They were fun, too, when I was working. Mostly, I had the day off to do my
chores or the fun stuff.
What if you could do the fun stuff all
the time? What if you could also get your work done? What would you think about
that?
Okay, here’s something novel. What if
work was fun?
It’s a concept. Toward the end of my working,
I managed to sort of do that. I also looked forward to the adventure. I really
never knew what was going to happen on any given day. I mean, I had the stuff I
did regularly, but those plans never lasted much after 10am. Then, somebody needed
something, or something was smoking or broken, or even the time they ran out of
paperclips.
That was unusual?
Well, they wouldn’t leave a message for
me. By that time, I was doing three things at once, and they had to say the
words directly to me. They had to have my ear. They made me stop the three
things I was doing to listen to them whine about how they didn’t have any
paperclips. I couldn’t believe it. I think I might have written one of my 19
letters of resignation shortly afterward. My boss never read them. He would
send the envelopes back to me unopened. I put them back in my personnel file.
It was years and years later after I had retired that somebody they hired for
the office went and read my personnel file and commented that I was one strange
lady.
I couldn’t argue with her. I remember
when I finally said the words, “I am retiring.” Nothing happened. Six months
went by with me asking repeatedly, “Have you been looking for somebody to
replace me?” I finally put two and two together and figured the boss was
ignoring me. So, I leaked it to one of the managers. Ten minutes later, the
whole company knew. My boss called, hollering that I shouldn’t have done that. I
said, well, it’s true. I wanted to share. It was actually sort of funny.
It was over a year, I think, before I actually got to retire.
Anyway, they are all long gone. I
learned a lot at that company. About myself and about human nature. It helped
me be a better psychic, in the end.
Well, that’s always helpful. What would
you like to do with this article?
I suppose I should have had that in mind
a while back. I think since we did a lot of talking, it should go into Talking to
Spirit. It also has to do with writing, so it could go into PaulineEvanosky.com, my writer’s website, or into Medium or Substack. Four choices.
And, which do you think?
I think out of all of those writing
platforms, the one that is most pointedly about being psychic is
TalkingtoSpirit.com. Okay, that’s decided, and that’s where it is going to go.
Do you have anything else you want to
mention?
No, just keep trying, everybody.
Whatever it is that you want to do, just keep trying. Oh, and also remember
that you can learn something from every situation, no matter how frustrating it
is. I mean, I did. So can you.
Thanks for reading. I write here at
Talking to Spirit on Sundays and Tuesdays. I’ve put some of the places I’m out
there on the Internet below.
🌺 Pauline Evanosky
🌺My Links:
Talking
To Spirit — my website since 2001
Pauline
Evanosky on Medium
Talking
To Spirit on Substack
Pauline
Evanosky — my author’s website
My Table of Contents for Medium — Updated Monthly
My Table of Contents for Substack — Also Updated Monthly
Facebook for shorter pieces
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