Posted in Find Your Road Home, My Story Monday

My Story Monday part 3

I am a week late, but I promised to talk about how I avoided my calling. That statement makes me giggle. How can I be late when I am not really sure what my calling is?

I am intuitive. I just know things, and can often predict what will happen long term. In my professional life I have had an uncanny ability to predict outcomes of specific initiatives.

When I was young, I knew what the pastor was going to say before he said it. Only during the sermon. I no longer go to church, but if I hear a sermon or prayer, I still could recite it with them (yep, weird).

I read tarot cards. Angel cards are my specialty, but I have a few other decks. I also read music.

I talk to a few spirits. I don’t know if I’ve reached my limit, or if I need to learn more. I suspect the latter. For me it’s when someone I know isn’t listening to messages from their passed loved ones. That spirit comes and pokes me and then I reach out to them.

There are two exceptions, my Grandma and Glenn. Grandma has kind of disappeared. I’m assuming she said all she needed. She tried to bring me a bus load of spirits, but I wasn’t ready.

Glenn visits in spurts. Sarcasm is his specialty, even on the other side.

I definitely need to learn more. Some spirits I can feel but try say nothing. Others speak but it is jibberish. So I need to focus and learn more.

I can sense other’s emotions. I am pretty sure this is why I am intuitive. If you can sense emotion, you can predict what will typically happen next. But emotions are a whole new level of drain. Obviously I prefer happy, but I attract melancholy people.

So what? So, what do I do with these three things? Not sure. But we’ll figure it out.

Posted in Be You, My Story Monday

My Story Monday Part 2

Last week I started My Story Monday with the beginning of a poem.  I have edited the poem several times, including the portion I posted last week. On Sunday, during my daily trip to the gym, I realized that the story was bunk.

What?!?! Bunk? As in a bed? No. As in JUNK — no good — bogus.

So let’s start again.

My name is Krystal. Since I was little, I have had what most call intuition. If you watch NCIS, it’s like Gibbs and his gut. I have always just known things. It’s difficult to explain this knowledge when you are little. It’s not much easier as a grown up, but at least empathy is something we openly discuss.

I also talk to spirit or ghosts or angels. It is really difficult to explain spirit talking to you in your dreams when you are 4 years old. It sounds like you had a nightmare. I remember a lot of nightmares. I was never afraid of the dark, but I was not fond of shadows. My grandmother carries around a picture I drew when I was little. It was of a little girl with a shadow behind her that resembled Frankenstein. It was a friendly shadow – it even held a flower. But it was still a shadow, and it obviously scared me a little.

I have always felt like I didn’t quite fit. I made choices along the way that were supposed to help me fit in, but they never completely worked.

  1. I didn’t go to the special gifted class so that I could stay at my regular school with my regular friends. The Universe changed my school anyway.
  2. I became BFF’s with the most popular girl in school. We were often excluded from plans because if we weren’t invited, they knew we would have each other.
  3. I left the band so I could take a different elective, and stop being a band geek. I was still in all the smart classes, and now I was in the rotation that didn’t have my usual friends.

I was, and still am, an overachiever that wants to hide out. I have always been the first one finished but never wanted to be the first to turn it in. Kids aren’t exactly nice to the smart kids, and I changed schools every year. I just wanted to be normal. I just wanted to blend in. I just wanted friends.

Come back next week and we’ll look at everything I tried to shut this calling off.

Posted in My Story Monday

My Story Monday (part 1): The Road to This Point

modified from 1/19/17

Do you dream?
When I was 15, I dreamed.
I was awkward, in my opinion,
But I was in a Miss Teen Pageant.
Me – the Queen of Introverts.
I had visions of greatness.
I embraced the risks.
When I was 17, I dreamed.
I traveled to other countries.
Volunteered with the church.
Aspired to help the needy.
Wanted to join the Peace Corp.
When I was 18, my life changed.
The person who controlled me left.
She allowed me to follow my heart.
My first anxiety attacks happen.
When I was 19, I could dream.
But I was indecisive.
Microbiology or genetics.
Or maybe pathogen-resistant plants.
When I was 20, we dreamt.
We got married. Prepared to have a baby.
We didn’t have a clue what we were doing.
When I was 21, I would dream.
The dream had evolved.
I had a little boy, who stole my heart.
He was watching me do everything.
If I didn’t teach him who would?

April 22, 2018

(continued next week)

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