Spiritual Stuff.

Sometimes its good to get in the car, drink in some sun through the sunroof and drive through the Catskills. And that is what I did today.

Life is good. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.

The delightful Charles Nelson Reilly passed away on Friday from complications from pneumonia. He was 76 years old.

Mr. Reilly was a Tony winning actor, director and drama teacher. Aside from his probably most famous appearances on the game show Match Game, Charles also appeared in countless movies, children’s shows and Broadway performances.

Here you can enjoy one of his finer moments on “Match Game”.

RIP Charles.

If you’ve read this blog for a while and/or know me personally, you probably wouldn’t be surprised if I told you that I tend to live a little bit on the lunatic fringe. I believe in all sorts of supernatural stuff and I tend to look at the world through a different pair of glasses than most. I’ve been called a “whack job” on more than one occasion. I wear the badge proudly.

That being said, I tend to use déja vü as a guidepost in my life. We’ve all experienced déja vü before, that sixth sense kicks in and says, “hey, you’ve done this before.” It’s almost like you can put your finger on the time and date that whatever specific event happened, even though it’s happening right now for the first time. I figure the whole experience of déja vü is the Universe’s way of saying “yes, you’re on the right path, you’re doing the right thing, you’re on track.”

An extension of that is a comforting feeling I occasionally get when I meet people for the first time. I can’t really describe the sensation, but every once in a great while when I meet someone, I just know that this person is significant in some way and that they are a piece of the puzzle in my life. Always one to trust my instincts, I treat this individual as if I have known them all my life, because I figure the Universe doesn’t lie and I must have known them before. Were we friends in a previous life? Did I bump into them a decade before in the supermarket? Perhaps they were disguised as Shirley MacLaine? Who knows.

This evening I joined my sister and my dad and stepmother for dinner. It’s the first of four consecutive dinners out this week, with a drop-kick of the scale pre-planned for Sunday. As we sat there, chatting away and enjoying our meal, I just knew that I had been through that exact moment before. Déja vü kicked in the moment the host told us our server’s name was Stephanie and carried right through the meal, and it was a good feeling. I took it to mean that I was on track. And you know, I thought to myself, “my goodness, these people are pretty nifty.” Now I know that sounds kind of odd because I’m talking about family members, but I do have some relatives and friends that look at me like I just parked a UFO on the roof and beamed into the dining room. But it’s a good feeling to be comfortable on a subconscious level with the ones that are woven into your life.

Now if I could just cheat sheet containing what lies ahead!

Early this morning I drove Earl to the airport for his latest business trip. Since it was well before dawn, I turned on the radio for the drive home in an effort to stay awake and to make the drive a little more interesting. Not in the mood for the thump, thump, thump of XM 81 (BPM- a dance channel), I tuned in a rerun of Anderson Cooper’s 360 on CNN. The show was originally aired last night.

One of the segments that caught my attention was regarding the recently found missing teen, Shawn Hornbeck. What I found interesting about this story is that Shawn’s parents consulted with psychic Sylvia Browne on a 2003 episode of Montel Williams. Sylvia is a frequent guest on Montel, offering her psychic insights to audience members. She also offers her services to those willing to pay about $700 for a half hour session and is the author or co-author of a number of books. It doesn’t hurt Montel’s ratings either.

During this episode of Montel, Sylvia told the Akers, Shawn’s parents, that Shawn had been abducted and killed by a hispanic looking man that had dreadlocks and drove a late 1950s or early 1960s car that had fins like the Chevrolets of the time. She said he had been buried near a group of jagged rocks. With the discovery of Shawn Hornbeck, it’s obvious that Sylvia Browne was dead wrong on this.

I’m not surprised.

First of all, I’m going to say that I believe that there are countless dimensions and all sorts of other stuff like that out there. I firmly believe that there are those that can contact those that have passed on and I believe that those that have passed on are able to contact us via dreams and visions, as long as we are ready, willing and able to accept these messages. I truly believe that Sylvia Browne has a gift. But that’s where my faith in Sylvia stops. I believe her gift has been clouded by greed.

I have read many of Sylvia’s books. If you’re ever interested in doing the same, you can usually read a small fraction of the books that she’s released because it often seems like she “cuts and pastes” from one book to another. On the other hand, some of her books are wildly contradictive to one another and to themselves. For example, Sylvia tells us that we all plan our lives before we are born. This is inline with my believe in reincarnation, however, she says that our family here may or may not be significant. We chose our parents ahead of time, and we agreed with our parents and siblings that we would make up a family and learn whatever we had to learn by doing so. That’s basically as far as the family unit goes. We may or may not like one another, it depends on the lesson that we have to learn. She also says that there really isn’t a genetic connection between being a psychic and being family members; it’s not really a trait that is passed down. Then she tells us that her psychic grandmother passed on and has reincarnated as her granddaughter, who is also psychic. She has two sons, one is psychic, the other isn’t, and by the way if you want a reading but can’t afford Sylvia, you may be able to afford Chris (her son).

I find this whole representation of what can be a wonderful gift kind of sad. As I said before, I truly believe that Sylvia has a psychic gift of some sort, much as I believe that John Edward can talk to those that have passed on. Unfortunately, it seems that Sylvia has either become very greedy or she has built such a large corporation that she needs to amass tons of money to keep it running. So now she’s appearing on Montel and whereever else she can, regurgitating book after book so she can make more money that way and also charging huge fees to help those that are in some sort of spiritual need contact whomever they’d like to contact, but then rarely does. To many, it seems like she’s preying on those that are at a particular time in their lives. I’m sure she’s not offering refunds when she’s wrong.

It’s sad that Shawn Hornbeck’s parents were told that their son was dead. It was callous of Sylvia Browne to state that with an absolute certainty on national television. The Akers should have gone in knowing that this is not a science by any stretch of the imagination and everything told to them should have been taken with a grain of salt. On the other hand, Sylvia shouldn’t seem so pompous and arrogant that she can make these predictions right there on national television and be spot on. Is she “cold reading”? Did she get a “wrong number” when she was dialing a prayer? I guess only Sylvia knows what she saw and how she came to the conclusions that she announced.

It’s a shame that she won’t take the offer to scientifically prove her abilities. I wonder what she has to hide.

I always find it nice to see something that sparks a distant memory and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. I was looking around on ebay today and came across this clock. While I can’t afford it right now, the picture alone made me feel good because it made me think of my “city” grandparents. They had a clock exactly like this one in their living room.

I can remember visiting on hot summer nights, watching the Yankees game with grandma and grandpa with huge, baby blue box fan in the corner whirring away in an effort to cool the living room down from the sweltering heat. Living downwind from the airport, an airliner would go over on some sort of pre-planned schedule. My grandfather said he hated the Yankees but never missed a game on “11 Alive”. Grandma would be knitting.

And a clock just like this one would be ticking away on the wall.

Yvonne DeCarlo passed away on Monday. She was 84. Most remembered for her role as Lily Munster in “The Munsters”, she was my favorite of the two “creepy” moms. According to Reuters, she worked right up until her death and will be in two yet-to-be-released independent movies.

Rest In Peace, Lily.

Earl and I went to the local Barnes and Noble this afternoon for a little after supper dessert and hot chocolate and some browsing. After a piece of a delightful apple crumb pie and armed with a cup of cocoa, I walked around the Mini-Me version of our local store to look at various titles and such. As I made my way around the store, I ventured over into the New Age Spirituality section. Here I looked through various books by the likes of Sylvia Browne and John Edward, as well a selection of titles on Paganism and Wicca.

As I was looking over the various titles with a mild interest, my bionic hearing beeped a few times and started catching the conversation going on at the sofa and chairs arranged near the bookshelf. Apparently there was a study group going of some sort and after further eavesdropping, I was able to determine that this was a Bible study group and they were approaching full tilt beater mode. One of the members of the group was near tears because we are so close to the end of times and she has no way of knowing if Jesus has accepted her soul to be saved at the time of the Rapture. A surprisingly young gentleman was telling her she should be on her hands and knees day and night praying for his forgiveness, just like the man over there looking at the works of the devil himself. Being my usual self, I looked over at the group, where the two members were looking at me while still continuing their conversation. I simply said, “Blessed Be”, and I meant it with all the kindness that I felt toward these people. They continued looking at me, so I then gave them the witch’s honor sign and said “Witch’s honor”, with the best little smirk I could muster.

I wish I could have vanished in thin air at that moment, but I didn’t feel like startling them right there in the middle of Barnes and Noble. So I moved along and let them continue their study group discussion.

I believe that anyone can believe in whatever they wish. If you want to worship you’re dishwasher, then by means worship your dishwasher and offer it endless Cascade, but for goodness sake do not impose your beliefs on me. I am more than willing to discuss spirtuality with anyone, regardless of their beliefs, but I believe the conversation should be calm and rational, not fire and brimstone. And for the record, I fully believe in a higher power, and that power is all-knowing, all-wise and all-loving of all creatures. It is so big it far exceeds the concept of male or female. I find it somewhat humorous that this all-mighty power could be a man with a beard sending all sorts of judgments out but if that’s what gets you through the day then believe in it the best you can.

Blessed Be.

It’s a little after 5 a.m. and I’ve given up trying to sleep until the alarm is scheduled to jar me awake in a little while. You see, I made a bad dietary choice last night and that, coupled with some non-blog worthy events of yesterday, made “J.P. TV” very, very active last night. I think I’ve been awake since 3:45 a.m. or so. That’s when Earl awoke me as I was apparently sleepwalking and trying to walk through a wall.

We’ll blame the Chinese take-out we had last night on my disorientation.

Have you ever laid in bed and just wanted to scream “STOP” at all the dreams and memories that are flooding your brain when you’re trying to get back to sleep? Last night I dreamed of people I haven’t thought about in over 30 years. Where do these thoughts come from? I dreamed about the babysitter that scolded me for wanting to play with my sister and her friends instead of playing with toy soldiers with her maladjusted heathens (I think they’re in jail now).

I relived every second, in slow motion for twice the fun, of the car accident we were in back in February 1978 and the sadness I felt when I heard my mom and sister crying in the front seat, but the relief I felt at the same time because they were crying and that meant they were still alive.

I visited with an older husband and wife named Sam and Irma who must be really old by now and may have passed on, though I’m not quite sure about that since I haven’t seen them since 1976. They owned a farm not far from where I grew up and were friends of some of our distant relatives. They also had the brother of our childhood dog Sunshine. They seem to be doing well whereever they are. They were always nice.

Chinese food plus half of an episode of “Medium” really made for some interesting fodder for my dreams and nightmares last night. Let’s hope I don’t fall asleep on my desk at work today.

And let’s hope I don’t try to walk through a wall again.

Later Sunsets.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

It seems like it was just yesterday when I had snapped this photo and posted a blog entry about the days getting longer. As I look at the date stamp, I realize that was back on April 19.

Working the early shift this week, I awoke at 5:30 to complete darkness. The wind was blowing in typical October fashion, making the leaves rustle and putting a slight chill on the air as we get ready for hints of winter predicted for this weekend.

I’ve often said that I feel a certain magic in the air during this time of year. It’s not a time to hibernate but rather a time to rejuvenate. I embrace the darkness of the shorter days by using all my senses to feel my way through life instead of just simply seeing it.

Even though it’s August 20th, there’s a cool breeze blowing tonight. It feels almost like an autumn chill. The trees in the backyard are rustling almost with that enchanting sound usually heard around Halloween, though it’s more than two months away.

I always find a certain magic in the cool breezes of autumn. It is then when I feel Mother Nature is at her most intriguing, getting this part of the Earth ready for a blanket of snow and long winter’s night. It’s my favorite season though it feels rather odd to experience when there’s still a month of summer left.

I’m hoping this is just a gentle reminder of what’s to come in a couple of months.