precognition

Day Twenty: The Wounded Healer (Enter with Caution: Super Deep)

| Aspergers Girls

The Wounded Healer

Often my philosophical prose presents itself to me as a stream of consciousness.  The words usually come as I am drifting to sleep or just about to awake. This particular philosophical prose The Wounded Healer appeared as I was resting on the acupuncture table. The message was shown as a page, resembling a scroll. I read the words (in my mind) and heard them simultaneously (with my inner voice).  It feels something akin to being a vessel that is downloading information.  This gives me the sense that there is much information in energy itself. I like to tease my husband and say, “I am either a genius or getting help from somewhere.” I tend to believe the latter.

I propose that many of us our wounded healers.

I offer this out as an example of philosophical prose. Take or leave what you want from this. It is my sole intention to shed light on my journey. Blessings ~ Sam

 

“There are many types of healers. They are all brave. No healer is better or lesser than the other. One healer is called The Wounded Healer. Sometimes this may be preferred to as The Wounded Warrior, as they are like warriors, in their undying effort to overcome obstacles and serve. Before coming to this earth Wounded Healers make a soul-contract to answer the calling of a healer. Those that answer the call follow a similar pattern in life; some eventually become healers of great magnitude through various means, others partially complete the process; and still some, as hard as they try to answer the call on this plane, cannot. Still the soul-commitment of a Wounded Healer alone adds to the positive vibration of the earth and heals. And in this way there is always success. A Wounded Healer need do nothing on this planet and still contribute to the healing effect. However, The Wounded Healer that does go on to complete his task will have a huge impact on others’ pain.

Human pain is perceived as physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, and psychological in combination. No pain experienced is singular. Because no pain is singular, Wounded Healers “learn” to understand various levels of pain in their own life. To a great degree, each person on earth has the potential to be a healer. In fact each person in recognizing the light in another human being automatically heals. Thoughts heal. Words heal. But The Wounded Healer varies from many others in that their life’s purpose from birth is to heal. Because of this, there will be distinct markers of a Wounded Healer.

At all times it is beneficial to remember that a Wounded Healer is no greater or lesser than anyone on this plane of existence, and seeing oneself as a Wounded Healer is not meant to elevate or lift a person. In truth a Wounded Healer will feel a great degree of conflict in reading this; not wanting to feel prideful, pleased, or increased in any measure, there will be discomfort in the physical body upon reading these words. For The Wounded Healer’s main objective, above all, is to remain humble in spirit. Without humility, the healing efforts are lessened, not decreased entirely, but depleted with feelings of judgment of self and others. One cannot judge oneself lesser or greater than another, without losing humility. One cannot heal to the greatest degree without humility. Thus, these variants are dependent upon one another; that is to say, give up self to become humble, become humble to heal. Of course, as humans, there is a degree of self-giving and self-worth that is necessary to survive. Therefore, a balance is necessary—that  is to say, for The Wounded Healer there needs to be a balance of healing of others and self-love. Though most Wounded Healers, when reaching the fruit of their calling, will be naturally loved and healed through healing others in humility. And therefore, in its greatest capacity, the healing is contradictory in terms of existing as both self-serving and endowed with humility. This is a complicated matter in considering, but no less necessary to explain.

There are five distinct traits of a Wounded Healer. These traits can be used to identify a healer in yourself or others.

 

(1) Wounded Healers are set on a path of empathy from birth. This is referred to as the “pain-cycle.” Often over-sensitive and naïve in nature, The Wounded Healer will experience pain in all forms before reaching their final role as a Healer of Mankind. This pain will happen throughout many years of their youth, and likely into young adulthood. Some will experience strong degrees of pain for half or more of their life. When this pain-cycle is complete, differs for each healer. When they have experienced the pain intended to experience, the cycle will make a dramatic shift. This will be an obvious shift. Observers will recognize this shift, as will the individual. The shifting of the pain-cycle will feel like a rebirth. This is often predicated by a dramatic change in lifestyle or life choice. This is not to be confused of “hitting bottom” or breaking the cycle of addiction. This is the end result of years of trials and tribulations—one after the other of soul-experience of pain and human-experience of pain, until at last there is a sunrise of a new day. This will literally feel like a “dawning.” There will be no doubt that the pain-cycle has come to an end. Healers will thus still experience pain, pain does not disappear, but the cycle of learning through pain will have ceased to spin.

 

(2) Often, almost all of the time, the child will experience great trauma in childhood. This will be perceived at one pain-level at minimum, most commonly the psychological-level, but very often the pain comes in combination. Wounded healers choose to experience a childhood of trauma in order to obtain a higher degree of empathy. This trauma (during this current time period) can be seen in all forms of abuse, ridicule, shame, addiction, neglect, malnourishment, poverty and abandonment. In the absence of an outside force produced by others, or in combination, the pain may be self-inflicted, as in perceived ailments of the mind or body. This may take the form of disfigurement, or the inability to be considered by others as “normal.” In later life this pain-cycle may manifest itself in the form of repeated unexplained sickness. These traumas will make a mark on the child. Each mark will serve as a greater good in the years that follow. Each mark indicates a pain that will be released from another being other than the healer. This can be visualized as slashes on the skin. A Wounded Healer carries these slashes that have turned to scars. Each person they heal at a later date will cause a healer’s scar to heal. Thus it follows the more scars a child experiences, the mores pains she is destined to remove from others. But remember, the number of scars is not equated to the number of people. In the process of healing only one person, all of the healer’s scars can vanish. In this way, a Wounded Healer’s soul-purpose may be to heal only one. Whether one or millions are healed is of no difference. Healing one has as much power and magnitude as healing millions. There is no lesser or greater; this is of up most importance to remember. Therefore, a Wounded Healer may complete his contract by healing one or healing many.

 

(3) All Wounded Healers are called to serve since childhood. It is not uncommon for the child to know before the age of ten what they aspire to be. Whether this vocation transforms rapidly or slowly is dependent upon the pain-cycle the person is to experience. Some will arrive at the vocation at a young age, while other will change jobs many times before answering the call.  Still others will slowly transition.  All life experience will benefit the Healer’s vocation. In childhood, The Wounded Healer will seek out ways to help others. Oversensitive, they will feel drawn to saving, nursing, rescuing, and easing discomfort. They will notice the wonders of nature that others often overlook. They will cry if a creature is hurt. They will cry if a person is hurt. At one point, in an attempt to survive, they will learn to stop crying as much, and this can cause much inner turmoil. These children will seem wise beyond their years. They will have the strong need to serve the greater good. They will often feel like failures and not good enough. This will be mistaken for low self- esteem. This is not so. These souls have a strong, if not all encompassing need to serve and heal, and when they cannot do so they feel suffocated, inadequate, weak, and not good enough. They might be mistaken by others as depressed, failures, dreamers, or perfectionists.  Emotions may be out of control.

 

4)  All wounded healers are empathic and also considered Empathic Healers. The Empathic Healers carry empathic traits, but do not necessarily carry all the traits of a Wounded Healer. The Wounded Healer includes the qualities of an Empathic Healer. However, an Empathic Healer may or may not have the traits of the Wounded Healer, such as: traumatic childhood and pain-cycle. In distinguishing the two, there is no urgency or necessity. But for clarity we point out the difference. Traits of an Empathic Healer include the ability to read the emotional energy field outside of a person. This can or cannot be seen. Usually the energy is felt more than seen. But seeing can be developed with focused practice and attention. Empathics have the ability to pick up on others’ emotional state. They may feel “depleted” in energy around other people, especially in crowds. This is a falsehood to consider the experience a “depletion.” This interpretation implies that there is not enough energy left in the person, and that something has been removed, taken, leaked, or escaped. There is no depletion of energy that is possible. What is happening is the person is taking the others’ energy and reworking the energy so to say, and then returning the energy cleansed to the others. This is like a doctor removing a sample of blood, cleaning the blood, and returning the blood. Only the Empathic Healer is the doctor, the tube holding the blood, and the source of healing. Thus the Empathic Healer is left feeling tired from the process. There is no danger in this except the feeling of exhaustion and the possible susceptibility to taking on another’s pain instead of cleansing the pain. Each Empathic Healer will have to learn how to protect themselves from exhaustion and the transfer of pain. The key is to recognize ultimately there is no pain, and thus, what is really happening is an energy transfer, a giving of one to heal another at a soul-level. This “healing” is complicated, but it is suffice to say the one must recognize the other for the earth to heal, although, even this is very much not the true and ultimate meaning.

 

5)  All wounded healers are repeatedly humbled. This begins in childhood and does not stop for the course of a lifetime. For in order to heal to the greatest degree, as mentioned before, the person must practice and live in humility. Each will do so in various degrees. The greatest healers and shifters of mankind will be the most humble. We need not look far to see who these souls were that existed to transform this world. Not all souls who are Wounded Healers will retreat to the greatest of humility, there will be varying degrees based on culture and the necessity to affect change. How others perceive the healer is still important. Societal rules and regulations, and the status of a person, can all affect the perceived skill of the healer. Therefore, each Healer will have different degrees of humility. Not all seekers will feel comfortable with a half naked man with no teeth. Therefore, Healers are colored in all patterns, and dressed in robes that will attract those needed to fulfill their highest good. This may mean no robe, a tattered robe, a designer robe, or a robe of gold; what matters is not the robe the healer wears but what he houses beneath. A Wounded Healer will heal. This is a matter of practicality. There is no way she cannot.

 

Wounded since childhood, and sometimes before entering this plane, the soul of The Wounded Healer will seek out help from an early age. They will attempt to remove the pain in many methods. Many of the methods will lead to further humility. Sources such as strict religion, addictive relationships, drugs, alcohol, gambling, overwork, and the like will often accompany the Wounded Healer in his journey through the pain-cycle. Many will seek help through doctors, psychics, energy-healers, therapists, clergy, and counselors, and in this way continue to be humbled. Others may succumb to mental collapse or physical breakdown. Again, they will be stripped to the bare bone. Some will experience great pain through loss and affliction repeatedly, which end results leads to humility. The pain-cycle will continue. When the fruitful time has arrived, The Wounded Healer will break free from the pain-cycle. This is different for each person. If one were to know when the pain would end, this would be no different then knowing the age of death. On knowing the age of death all life is unavoidably lived and experienced differently. Therefore The Wounded Healer has made an agreement to not know when the pain-cycle will end, in order not to affect change or the end result.

Even as the pain-cycle ends, pain remains to a degree. Humility remains, as does the ability to see in others what is in thy own self. Humility then becomes a coat of armor and a friend. A blessed companion we thank the heavens for creating. For in this grand humility we find the comfort of knowing what has come before has served to heal.

In evaluating a Wounded Healer it is best not to use logic but instead to rely on instinct and feeling. A healer of such magnitude, who carries the armor of humility and the pain of many scars, will be notable to you on many levels. First, and foremost, they will carry with them a peace and inner light so that you will have a tendency to feel that you “know” the person or want to know them. You will be attracted to The Wounded Healer and not necessarily know why. This of course is after the completion of the pain-cycle—before this you might actually be propelled away or want to escape. But we speak of the end of the pain-cycle, when the cloak of humility, grace and service is evident. In this time seek you signs of a welcomed presence. This Healer will seem wise beyond his years, will gravitate towards serving others for the sake of healing alone, and will often be serious-minded and unable to easily let go and relax. Overall, in considering The Wounded Healer it is important to remember their coat of humility. For whatever they may say or do, or seem to say or do through your perception, their ultimate goal is healing.” ~ Sam

(No editing was applied to this prose. This all came out in one quick sitting.)

 

 

Day Sixteen: The Bus Stop

| Aspergers Girls


 I pulled this out of my journals. We had to say goodbye to our beloved dog, today. And this prose reminded me of another place and time. I imagine our dog with many friends and family now, including dear Catherine.

A week before I met Catherine and was greeted by her four little ones—their faces a blush and small mouths encircled with remnants of the faded pink of popsicles—I’d dreamt of a dark-haired lady guiding me from one room to the next of a colonial-style home.  There we had walked together, with the glee-filled echoes of children’s giggles fluting down the staircase… (This is available in the book Everyday Aspergers)

Rest in everlasting peace, Sweet Scooby. Look for my friend Catherine. She’s waiting for you.

Day Twelve: Behind the Curtain

| Aspergers Girls

 

This is an excerpt from a previous journal entry in 2009. I wrote Behind the Curtain before I realized that I had traits of Asperger’s Syndrome. As I reflect back to this time period of my life, I now recognize that I was searching  for any explanation, in order to attempt to sort out the disorder in my mind.

Behind the Curtain

I made a decision a long time ago, when I was old enough to venture across the street on my own and play in the open field, that I would try to be a good person.  I already knew more than I ought to have known about the world, I suppose.

I remember years back looking up at the wide-open sky and wondering where the universe ended and more so where I began.  I recognized I wasn’t just my flesh and skin, was so overly aware of the inner core of my being that I felt as if I were walking a narrow line between this realm and the next.  There was turmoil at home, which left me with a general uneasiness, but there was another more defining uneasiness building inside of me, piling one atop the other, an unsettling recognition that there was so much more than the grownups could explain, and more so, ever venture to understand themselves.

Such knowing, at a young age, carries with it insecurity and reckoning of the uncertainties of the world, an acknowledging that reality isn’t what one’s peer group believes.   There was a stepping out of sorts, a separating at this point of my life, a kindling of new insight that propelled me onto the other side of the street, so to say.  As if, I was standing alone, isolated and curious, observing my playmates across the way.  I could hear them, I could even speak and they would acknowledge my presence, but I couldn’t join them.  My thoughts were a deep canvas, a three-dimensional painting I could step into and live.  From my side of the road, I would watch with wonder and interest, recognizing my own separation from humanity, without understanding what in actuality I was experiencing.  It was then, about the time most kids were discovering the wonderment of above-ground pools and slip and slides, I was discovering simultaneously the limit of my mind and the un-limitness of the universe.  I had wanted desperately to understand where I belonged and where I fit in, for I wasn’t as the birds left to fly in the sky; I wasn’t an adult with the freedoms; and to me, I wasn’t a child.  The others were all different than me.  It was as if I had been given an alternate pair of lenses in the way I interpreted the happenings around me, in the way I analyzed the truth behind words, and the actions behind truths.

I knew too well already about death and dying, as I knew too well about living.   I knew when I slept my dreams would come like torrent winds and tear me from where I slept and carry me forward into another realm of consciousness.   And I knew well the dreams would sometimes speak to me and give me glimpses into the future.   I could tell my mother things, speak to her about the dreams, and then we would watch together to see if the  essence of my dreams was true, if in fact the dream had revealed an element of an event to come.   And often the dreams did.

Knowing a dream can speak, can whisper some form of truth, and can open a door and allow one to peek into another universe is most unsettling to say the least.  But then, as a child, when I stopped to analyze the happenings, to grasp why I knew things before they occurred, I felt a shudder of confusion, and further uncertainty about where I stood, where I breathed, where I actually dwelled on the planet.

And I knew things about people, I felt certain I shouldn’t ought to feel.   I could tell things about people, understand their intention, feel a part of their spirit. From early on in my life, certain people left me feeling heavy and invaded, while others, though nothing on the outside was perceivable peculiar or different, left me with a flowing sense of calmness and general well being.  Some people felt like gifts, a present I wanted to play with and keep close to heart, while others I wanted to return from whence they came.  I wondered what was in people that made them thus so.  Why some seemed so light and airy, and others weighed down by an invisible ghost of woes.  I wished to speak, to find out, and became increasingly inquisitive and interested in adults, for I secretly hoped one of them would have an answer for me.  I searched out a guide, even though I knew not what I was searching for, or even that I was searching, and I am certain they came to me at different intervals in my life as needed, though I did not recognize them.

As I grew older, the feelings inside of me also grew, filling up every inch of new space.  I was so abundantly filled with emotions that at times I often felt as if I were drowning inside my own being.  I could hear things by then, too.  See things.  See things no one else I had encountered could.  I continually felt more isolated and lonely, though I had people around me, I nonetheless remained isolated in thought and spirit.  It seemed to me that no one understood me.  For years I longed to be like my classmates.  I came to see them as narrower and straighter than me, like the letter “x,”so that nothing could fill them and leave them gasping for air; wherein I perceived myself as wide and curved, like the letter “o,” so that everything and anything could use me as a vessel.

The later years were painfully difficult.  When the teenage trials came, I felt bombarded and stampeded with emotions.  If there was ever a time I believed I was from another universe, it was then.  I played a game—that is how I saw it.  I pretended to be someone.  I was lost, lost on some stage, trying to find where I’d hidden my true self.

I still feel as if a part of me is hiding somewhere, afraid to come out entirely, for fear of misunderstanding and judgment.  The tender part of me, the piece of myself that doesn’t understand in the smallest bit the cruelty and harshness of this world, remains divided and alone, always hidden behind the curtain.

Day Seven: Aspergers and the Sixth Sense

| Aspergers Girls

 

Sometimes I can see the future. I’ll explain more in a bit.

When I’m partaking in some deep thinking; which let’s face it, is pretty much every waking hour of my life, I hypothesize about the creation of this Asperger’s Syndrome. I’m beginning to wonder, if in fact, Aspergers is not a syndrome at all, but a result of a lack of a particular sense (as in the five senses). Being born with Aspergers might be compared to someone who is born without the ability to hear or see. For example, if social skills were considered a sixth sense of sorts, then could we not theorize that instead of a syndrome (a clinically recognized collection of features, signs, and characteristics) that Aspergers was a result of not having acquired a sixth sense: A deficiency in being able to subconsciously navigate the social arena without assistance?

It is true, that like a person who has challenges with vision or hearing, that a person who has challenges with social skills can be taught said skills to increase his or her aptitude. A person with Aspergers will arguably never truly see socializing from the exact neurotypical viewpoint, but he or she can learn to improve his or her social skills, similarly to the way a man with limited sight would learn to navigate in a seeing world.

(Stay with me here, as I remind you that I’m merely processing aloud, and not discounting any of the scientific studies that are pointing to other biological and environmental causes.)

If we were to consider the prospect of a sixth sense, that of being social skills, and to postulate a child with Aspergers is born with a deficiency in this sense, then would it not be a logical conclusion that other senses would develop more acutely–just as the person who cannot see develops a stronger sense of tactile experience or smell? If this is the case, that a person with Aspergers compensates for a lack in the social skills’ sense, by having a heightened awareness in other senses, then perhaps this explains sensory overload.

In my own experience, I wonder, too, if another sense, that of the ability to see into the hidden worlds, those of the quantum physic and collective unconscious worlds, is not a sense also capable of increasing. In my case, I have been hyper-sensitive in my dream state since I can recall. I began having precognitive dreams at the age of three about my animals and other people. I would tell my mother about my dream, and then parts of the dream would come true.

Here is an example of how my precognitive sense works:

In what I believe was early December (as I did not record the date), as I stood in the living room talking to my husband, suddenly I saw a scene before my eyes. A waking “knowing” that is difficult to explain. The process was similar to watching a sped up movie before my eyes, while at the same instant knowing a “truth” was being conveyed from a higher source.

That late day in December, overcome but what I saw in the vision, I uttered words close to the following to my husband: “Honey, in the early part of next year Carmen will be calling you with news about her health. It will be a serious illness, one requiring a lot of your attention, and a time when you will be asked to fly down and see her. This is partially happening at this time because there is such a physical distance between you for the first time in her life.”  I don’t know how I knew this, but I just did; as if someone had just phoned me and told me the news, and I was conveying what I knew to my husband.

I went on to explain in more detail what I meant by this to my husband. It is important for me to communicate that at the time of the event there had never been any indication of serious health concerns, or indicators that Carmen’s health would be compromised in the near future. In the many years I have known Carmen, there has never once been a serious health concern that required my husband’s full attention.

This news came to a great surprise to my husband, and he responded by saying: “Don’t say things like that.” He then shook it off, fearing the superstition that I might be creating this by speaking it, and thinking I was wrongly informed. I, myself, too hoped that the vision I saw was wrong, but I could not put the image of my husband flying on a plane to go see Carmen out of my mind.

In early January I had a profound dream, one that stirred me so greatly that I was drawn to write the details of the dream down in my journal; this was a significant act, as it remains the only dream I wrote down in the last nine months, and the only dream I wrote since moving to the state of Washington. (I have been encouraged to record all my dreams, and hope to develop this dedicated habit soon.)

Thirty days after I recorded the dream, we received news of Carmen’s health. At that time, I was immediately able to retrieve my dream journal and show the page to my husband. He was much surprised at the words he read, as was I; even with the ability I have carried of prophetic dreams since I was a child, the process of the dreams coming true still affects me to a great degree.

I will not write the exact words found in my journal, but summarize with some detail. First, this is the only dream I ever recall about Carmen and her daughter that I have had in my entire life. I clearly remember my dreams each morning I wake, without fail. Usually I remember at least three or more dreams.

This dream began with Carmen’s daughter at a home similar to ours. In the dream there were palm trees in a storm—a symbolism I took to mean calm turning into a stormy situation, or storms ahead. I asked (telepathically) Carmen’s daughter to tell me why she was at our house without Carmen. She then took me back in time, as if painting a story. I was removed from the events she unfolded, like a bystander walking alongside the characters without them seeing me.

In the dream Carmen was in a world I did not recognize, surrounded by a golden field of what looked to be high grass or wheat. She seemed at peace, though I noted in my dream journal she had lost a lot of weight, and had undergone much emotional change. Around her were most of her grandchildren, circling in the field and carefree in spirit. Carmen’s daughter indicated to me (telepathically and through symbolism) that Carmen’s weight loss was due to severe stomach pain. She showed me this by leaning over, clutching her stomach, and acting like she was throwing up. I noted in my dream journal that this meant chemotherapy as a result of cancer.

Carmen’s hair was mostly gone or hidden and she wore a bandana around her head. Her pants were long and purple, which signified a spiritual transformation or passing on from this world. Carmen’s daughter indicated by pointing to a hospital sign and again using telepathy that there was “no help in this place.” A child (*), liken to my youngest son, began to swell and be sickly; Carmen lifted this child and was trying to take him to a hospital for help. None could be found. I suddenly was seen by Carmen, and began to apply healing light to this child. The child and Carmen were pleased.

When I wrote this dream the following morning, I felt in my heart that Carmen would be discovering an incurable cancer in her body, and be undergoing chemotherapy. I did not share this dream with my husband. I did not want to upset him, and a part of me hoped that the dream had only been symbolic of my friend’s mother, who I learned the next day, following my dream, had just recently died of cancer.

Another part of this experience involved my physical body. For some reason, call it my empathic ability, I some times experience symptoms and discomfort in the same body location as someone I know, usually before I actually know of their diagnosis. For instance, recently I was unable to move off the couch all day from severe back pain. I told my mother I believed I was feeling sympathy pain for my stepmother undergoing back surgery; though it turned out that on that same exact day my cousin had broken his back. On the day my son’s teacher fell and injured her tailbone requiring hospitalization, I also had a freak accident where I bruised my tailbone. When a good friend was undergoing breast surgery, I developed a cyst on my breast (never has happened since or before that). These could be considered coincidence; and I tend to lean that way myself, except that these “coincidences” continue to manifest themselves in my body.

Concerning Carmen, the entire month before we were informed of her condition, I developed an unusual circular rash on my chest. It was “scary” for me, to the point I went to the doctor twice. Right before we learned of Carmen’s health concerns, the circular rash began to fade. For thirty days straight I was convinced I had cancer in that location of my body, to the point that I bothered my husband repeatedly, having him examine the spot. With news of Carmen, I knew where the cancer was: indeed it resides on the exact same side of her chest (inside her lung). I also soon started to have a discomfort, like a knife pain, in my back; Carmen confirmed this to be the same area where she was feeling discomfort.

Approximately a week or two before we received news of Carmen, I had another dream, one which I told my friend about the morning after the dream occurred. In the dream, my father phoned me to say he had cancer. During the dream, there was a period of trying to acquire more information, and wondering about the severity of the condition. The time period seemed to last several days in the dream. My father then phoned back in the dream, to tell me that his state was incurable and serious but that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

The morning following the dream, I confided in my friend that I did not think this person represented my father, and that I believed (as had happened in the past) that he was a messenger of sorts in the dream, indicating that someone else in the family was going to be calling with news of their health.

It was in early February that Carmen called us late in the evening to tell us of her health news . That same morning I had a strong feeling to send her a present. Something I have never thought to do before (except Christmas time). I told my friend that I wanted to send Carmen a special and significant token with a note that read: I love you unconditionally. In my mind I was picturing my rose quartz necklace, and imagining purchasing something similar to the necklace, so that a healing stone could rest in the area near her heart. I had no idea why I was getting this indication.

Then, during breakfast that same morning, with the same friend, I had a very odd experience; the first of this sort. As I was eating, I kept looking over my friend’s shoulder at a metal coat rack that rested in the corner. There were some jackets, a bag and some other objects hanging from the curved bars of the rack. For approximately thirty-minutes, I repeatedly kept saying to my friend, “This is so strange, but the coat rack behind you keeps appearing to be an executioner; the type from years ago that had a sack over their head as they oversaw the gallows.” This was very disturbing, as I usually do not have visions of such sort, in the broad daylight in public nonetheless. My friend was very patient, as I kept repeating the apparition I saw behind her. I was a bit worried for my friend, as well. I felt at this time that this was an omen of news soon to come regarding death or the like. Again, I repeat, this was the same day Carmen called us.

In summary, the five signs were as follows:

1: The waking vision in early December involving news of Carmen’s health and my husband’s attention.

2: The dream 30 days before the news, that outlined the process Carmen would experience with her health.

3: The dream a couple weeks leading up to the eventual phone call, involving my father and his news of cancer.

4: The odd rash on my chest and the knife pain in my back, as well as the need to mail something to heal the heart region to Carmen.

5: The apparition of an executioner for a half-hour the same day we heard the news.

 

* Soon following the news of Carmen, I had to rush my son to the emergency from a severe medication reaction, which caused his body to swell in hives. The experience was was very similar to the rushing for help in the dream.