Spirit Visits

Um. I blog. I remember that. I used to with frequency. O well. Here I am again, sifting through my memory. Things are quiet on the spirit visitation front. Or are they? Now my memory is coming up with a pressure on my calf while I slept a couple of weeks ago. It lasted a full 30 seconds or so. A slight shove during a different night. I look over and Carlos is dead asleep facing away from me. A cell phone ring the night after the shove. Just once. The tone was not that of my cell phone nor of Carlos'.

Remembering eating breakfast at Cafe de La Parroquia one morning with Carlos and Carla.
Carla says, I feel thoughtful today.
Me - How?
Carla - I feel like I'm in another dimension, like I'm over there watching all of us, but I'm not here. Know what I mean?
Me - No. I experience you right there across from me, eating enchiladas.
Carla - Really?

I have a friend in Wisconsin who believes in science and not in God. I tell him about my experiences, about Carla. He is skeptical but open. He owns two campus bars. He told two of his bartenders one night about the things I tell him - Carla's clairvoyance, spirits nudging me. The bartenders are gals in their twenties. They tell him I need to have my head examined.

I'm sure my stories sound nutty to a good number of people. I challenge anyone to live a week with Carla and see if they reconsider their outlook.

Carla says her maestros wake her up and remind her of her tarea – to be a living example of not wearing a thought.  "Like, Mom," she says. "Yesterday when you were fretting about getting to the dermatologist on time and I was still laying on the massage table.  I knew it would be OK to get there late."  Sure enough, we got to the dermatoligist's office after 2 pm, but the previous client didn’t come out until about 2:20.  “So I look like I’m a slug and I don’t care, but really I know it’s going to be alright.”

It's going to be alright.