Lately I keep remembering the phrase, “We’re all just walking each other home.” I don’t remember who said it. A Google search would cough it up fast enough but I like not knowing who said it, as if it were as common as “sly as a fox” or “out of the frying pan, into the fire.” I wish it were.
What’s made me remember these words is the pain I’ve witnessed this year, especially this month. I don’t normally talk about my clients for the simple reason that if I did I would not be a very trustworthy intuitive. I’ve heard some psychics discuss their clientele–usually when they count celebrities among them–but while I understand the urge and assume everyone is being discussed with their consent (hope, anyway), I feel intuitive work must adhere to very clear ethics because it’s not otherwise regulated and because it entails such fragile, precious material (souls). Continue Reading →
So a few months ago, a pair of fratty-bratty young guys moved in next door, replacing the quiet fellows who’d lived there for two years. I’d liked that couple because I neither heard nor saw them, a quality I deem ideal in neighbors. Continue Reading →