Thursday, February 1, 2024

Woo Woo


By Pauline Evanosky

You’re Probably More Psychic Than You Think

You say: So, am I psychic or not?

I say: Well, you are an ordinary person, so I would say, yes, you are psychic.

You respond heatedly: I don’t think I am psychic. I’ve never had an experience with the supernatural, except when I thought I saw a ghost.

Ah, I say: When was that?

You say, “Oh, it happened a couple of years ago, and it’s never happened since then.

I say: Well, tell me about it.

You say: It was after a family gathering. It was Thanksgiving one year. We were gathered at Aunt Phyliss’ place. They’d brought out the photograph albums, and everybody was sharing stories. We did it every year. This was no different than any other year at Thanksgiving.

I say: So, nothing out of the ordinary?

You say: Nope.

I say: So, when did this sighting of yours happen?

You say: It was after everybody had gone home. Some of us were sleeping over. I was on the couch in the basement—the one in the rec room. There were two other people with me. They had sleeping bags. It was about 2 in the morning, and I woke up. They always kept a night light on in the bathroom, and the light spilled over into the room we were in. I saw something. It looked like Uncle Beau. Except, he’d been dead for five years. But I saw a guy with really frizzy white hair like he used to have.

I say: What was he doing?

You say: He was just standing there. He wasn’t doing anything. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. I figured he’d be gone. He wasn’t. He was still there. I squeezed my eyes shut again. Then, he was gone. I wasn’t afraid. I’d just seen a guy. In the morning, neither of the folks sleeping down there with me said anything. I was still so freaked out about it I didn’t say anything.

Later that morning, after we’d had breakfast and were into a second cup of coffee, I found myself alone in the kitchen with Aunt Phyllis. I told her what had happened. She said that wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. She’d seen her dead husband down there several times. She wasn’t afraid either. She said what I’d seen was true.

Then, she went on to tell me that she could see things sometimes. I asked her what she meant. She said sometimes, when she’s doing stuff that doesn’t require her full attention, like washing the dishes or doing laundry, she will get this fast image. Like she’ll see a lot of red. Nothing in particular, just the color red. A day later, there is a train accident on the news with lots of people injured. Other times, she will see green. That’s when she’ll notice new stuff coming up in the garden later on. Personally? I think it is all a coincidence. I mean, how can anyone see the future? Just with colors?

So, no. I don’t think I am psychic.

I say: I think you are. Everybody is, to one degree or another. Think of it as a sense. Remember from when we were kids? It’s your sixth sense, just as ordinary as being able to see or hear. Don’t be afraid of it. It’s just a sense. There’s not a whole lot written about it, and it’s unusual in the sense that nobody really talks about it much. It’s like when you were a kid. Your parents never taught you to hear. You just did. The same thing happened with you seeing. One day, you saw. You didn’t know what you were looking at because you hadn’t learned words yet. But I’ll bet if you wanted your dolly or teddy bear, you knew what you were looking at even though you didn’t have a name for it.

The thing is, there are probably other things that are happening with you just because you are connected in a way you’ve never really thought about. Like how you might think of somebody, and three hours later or the next day, they call you. Did you make that happen by thinking of them, or were you getting a heads-up about them thinking about you? Years ago, I used to have fun at work by announcing when my boss was going to be the one on the phone. It happened enough times that people started looking at me funny. Turns out I was just dialed into him, I suppose.

It's like being able to draw. When you first learn how to draw, it’s all just wrong. The lines are wonky, and it does not look like a cat more than it resembles a hedgehog. Eventually, with enough practice, the things you draw begin to look like something. The real test is when you do faces, I think. When the face resembles the subject, that’s when you can tell you are getting to be a better artist. It just takes practice.

The same thing happens when you awaken to your own psychic self. It’s strange at first, but if you are not afraid of it and treat it more like a game, it will happen more often because you are not pushing it away.

Just relax about it. Invite it into your life. Play games with it, and someday, you’ll be able to pick winning lottery numbers. I’m just kidding about that. The only winning lottery numbers I ever picked were for a different state. It was eerie enough when it happened. As I look back on it, I think it was just a little twinkle and nod from the psychic side of life.

So, yes, you are psychic.

Click on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at and also in the blog with the capability of adding comments at the latter.

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