Your Psychic Friend, Brother Dave
(Edited excerpt from an e-mail to a friend)
Once upon a time, my dear friend Buffy Anne suggested that, just perhaps, I might have some heretofore unrecognized and untapped psychic potential that I should try to identify and, if it does indeed exist, I should consider exploring and developing it for some greater good of all humankind.
She offered these thoughts after hearing me describe the kind of vivid auditory and/or visual hallucinations I tend to experience during what I call my "waking dreams" phantasms that occur during that fuzzy time between being awake and being asleep.
It is her belief that some people who have lucid "waking dreams" may be gifted with more psychic energy than most. And, as I understand it, her interpretation is that at least some of the voices and faces experienced this way can belong to souls who now exist beyond this life. And some of those may be enlightened souls who have returned to this plane, perhaps to offer me guidance or protection. Others may be poor lost souls who are too afraid to accept their fate and move on to the next plane.
Buffy said that people who have vivid "waking dreams" and certain psychic gifts often are those who have survived near-death experiences. When she asked if I had ever had a near-death moment, I told her of an instance that my parents have described as occurring when I was not quite yet 2-and-a-half years old.
I have no first-hand memories of that incident. But I have been told about how I very nearly choked to death after aspirating a candy Easter egg.
In trying to dislodge the candy, my parents "turned me every which way but loose," as my Mom would say it. They slapped my back. They tried reaching down my throat. They tried everything they could think of. All to no avail. (This was a generation before the general dissemination of knowledge about the Heimlich Maneuver.) I went limp and was turning blue.
They sped me to the nearest doctor's office....
Exciting, huh? Are you anxiously wondering whether the little boy lives or dies? Are you wondering why I'm pulling this cliffhanger stuff on you?
Well, it seems like every other time I had heard this story, it was my Mom who was the primary teller of the tale. But the last time I heard this, I don't know, maybe 4 years ago or so, Pop provided most of the narrative.
He said that doctor was a quack. He said that doctor's solution to the problem was to lay my limp little body on the examination table and give me a shot of penicillin. (Penicillin!? Now, I'm wonderin' if Pop misunderstood and, perhaps, the doctor actually gave me insulin or some potent stimulant or, I don't know... But I'm thinkin' that if the doctor's only action was to administer penicillin, well then, yes, he really was a quack!)
Pop said that as I lay there on the table my whole body changed from blue in color to black... as black as the blackest black person he'd ever seen.
Pop said that he has seen only one other white person ever turn that black, and that guy was a dying coworker who then transformed into a dead coworker right there before his eyes. That guy had a massive coronary there on the factory floor, where he quite literally and figuratively faded to black.
So, anyway... Pop said that as I lay there, all lifeless and black, the candy finally dissolved enough that it audibly dislodged, thump, and I revived.
And I survived.
Yep, I lived to tell this tale to you now.
And maybe you're wonderin' something like: "If BD was black once, why can't he dance?" (Your insensitive racial stereotyping aside, for further discourse on this subject, please see: "A Fool, No Doubt, But Not A Dancin' Fool." Jeez.)
Or maybe you're wonderin' something like: "Could it be that BD renounced his childhood Christian Fundamentalist faith because of a heretofore unsuspected subconscious association of Easter with more death rather than with miraculous resurrection?"
Or maybe you're wonderin' something like: "Why the hell is this jerk telling me all this stupid stuff!? Jesus H. Christ! What's the damn point!?"
Well okay, Miss Impatience, Ms. Tactless, one point is this: I've been told that I might have previously-unexplored psychic abilities. (Hey, I already knew you were gonna say, "What's the damn point!?" See!? So there.)
And so now, turning my psychic skills toward seeing what I might be able to divine regarding your current situation, my main damn point is....
[Although it has been deleted from this abridged version, be assured, Dear Internet-Surfin' Reader, that in the original correspondence AN INCREDIBLY INSIGHTFUL "DAMN POINT" WAS BRILLIANTLY PRESENTED HERE. No, really! It was sheer literary genius. And the logic was flawless. Trust me. BD]
....Whoa, Mama! Coincidence? Or freaky psychic powers? Whew!!!
Well, hey, I've blathered on and on, haven't I?
And now, m'Dear, I'm outta here.
Be well, be happy....
Love 'n' sticky stuff, Brother "Your Psychic Friend" Dave