Wooky-Wooky-Woo-Woo. You're Healed.

It is only fair to say that I was a part of the whole “Namaste” culture for a while.  I met some absolutely wonderful, beautiful souls that I adore and would trust with my life.  In the end, when the pixie dust settled, I was disillusioned, feeling truly heartbroken that greed is a major player with some of these so-called healers.  A select few are the biggest assholes you will ever meet. 

A few years ago, I did contract work at a yoga studio.  The owners were so excited they had booked an event with a well known guy that did Energy Healing with sound bowls, or crystals or magic wands or fairy wings.   I don’t even remember exactly what he used, but he made damn sure that everyone knew he was a  “compassionate healer”.   His flyer and website boasted his “passion” for healing people.  He was already in town for some kind of event, so this was just an extra gig for him.  Well, no one was interested.  Two people bought tickets at the studio to see him.  He threw a royal bitch fit, screaming at the top of his lungs--  “How am I supposed to make money with only two people? I most certainly am not wasting my time for two people”.  He hung up and refused to answer his phone the rest of the day.  No cash.  No healing. 

A few months later, I was introduced to a Medium that was so arrogant; she actually trademarked her professional title.  She marketed herself as an “Energy Healer”, “Medical Intuitive” and “Intuitive Karmic Lifestyle Holistic Manifesting Law of Attraction Epic Abundance Healer Gifted Medium Psychic Star Trek Capitan Life Coach Yoda Author Spontaneous Human Combustion Jedi Akashic Master™”.  Empty souls flocked to her like crazy.  Initially, she started out charging anywhere from $60-$70 a visit which was really reasonable.  Then, she started getting really full of herself and last I knew, a session had gone up to $225 an hour; but you have to book with her weekly and put your credit card on file so she can charge you.  If you cancel, she charges you anyway.  I had a friend do some sessions with her a few times. My friend cancelled an appointment one time on short notice because her child was sent home from daycare with the flu.  Energy Healer ™, sent a nasty-gram via email about how valuable her time was, not to mention how outwardly rude it was to cancel right before an appointment.  Apparently, that wasn’t enough and she left an equally bitchy voicemail the following day.  Can you feel the love?

I received a gift certificate to see this woman.  After signing a mound of liability releases, enduring her "me, me, me, me, I'm so fucking terrific" speech, and the sales pitch for the plethora of other insanely expensive services she offered, we got to the meat. 

I was told I had been a Buddhist monk in a previous lifetime and had taken a vow of poverty.  This was why I was not making tons of money right now.   Perhaps the fact that someone had given me a gift certificate meant I was poor?  I had not let go of that lifetime and had energetically hung on to my vow.  She started waving some kind of Harry Potter wand over me and whispering some sort of wooky-wooky-woo-woo stuff to the Vow of Poverty Release Gods that she lunched with on Saturdays. She removed it for me!  Yay!  Now, I could safely move on past the issue that I never knew I had in the first place.  Oh, the relief. 

Next, I was asked to name the first animal that came to my mind.  I still don’t know what that meant. 

After she made some odd clicking noises, I was told that I had also had lived in India three billion years ago (or something like that) and was a gifted healer.  I was anti social and died in the woods by myself.  People had stepped over my carcass and it hurt my feelings because I had given my life to help them.  Then, the wooky-wooky-woo-woo-Harry Potter stuff started up again.  This time, I struggled with every fiber of my current being not to start laughing.  The timer went off.  It was over. I never did find out how my feelings were hurt when I was dead.  I think it was more about rigor mortis body image issues than feeling betrayed.

Lastly, I was warned about the excessive “stress” I was under.  Was I under stress?  I didn’t think so, but what did I know?  I was in no way capable of knowing that about myself.  Energy Healer™ did.  To be honest, I was a bit stressed.  My stomach was beginning to sound like a junior high school band warming up and one wrong move was going to generate a very awkward moment.  Maybe that’s what she meant.  I had gained nothing from this. At least she could have thrown something my way that was helpful. 

When all of this was over, she asked me what I thought.  I really had nothing to say but “Thank you”.  I imagine to someone as self centered as her, giving no feedback was like getting a “fuck you”.  I kind of liked that notion.  I was encouraged to book sessions into my next eighteen lifetimes, or even better, her join her Spiritual Cash Manifesting© class.  It was only $595. I politely declined.  I knew I would write about it someday.  Whew.  I did.  I feel better.

Peace, Love and Harmony the New Way

Let’s begin this one sided dialogue by delving in to the “New Age” movement.  Has anyone truly addressed this?  Well, back in 1984, someone took a hit of peyote while meditating then decided Old=bad, New=Good, Recycled Old Bad Made To Look New=Better.  That was the extent of it. It started to catch on. Back on that day in 1984 the vibrational energy of "ohm" aligned with some extraterrestrial, resulting in a harmonic convergence.  The consciousness of the earth thus began changing. The Universe began her labor, preparing to give birth to unicorns, butterflies, double rainbows and organic food.

Every enterprising a-hole out there jumped on this marketing bandwagon. That's what all of this is. Marketing. Next thing you know, every Stepford wife in suburbia is doing yoga, farting patchouli, shopping at Whole Foods and blogging about how to recycle tampons into coffee tables.

It’s Yuppies being Hippies.  It’s peace, love and harmony shoved into a pair of Lululemons. 

Religion is out.  Spiritualty is in. Seriously, Jesus is sooo last year. He’s been remarketed to an “Ascended Master”.  Yes. Use that  term now. It makes you appear open minded instead of stuffy like, Baptist Aunt Ida.  It also separates you from sounding like a journalist on FOX news.  And thanks to Steve Jobs everyone rushed out and bought Autobiography of a Yogi, so they too could figure out the secret to building a billion dollar empire through some sort of karmic-you-owe-me thing.

So what has happened? Religion, dogma and rituals were thrown into a cosmic pot and melted together, the hip parts rose to the top and out came New Age.  Here's what was left.

Deepak Chopra: Because Oprah says so.

Hinduism:  Because Deepak Chopra says so.

Buddhism:  It’s cool.  So cool, that the New Agers decided to pick and choose bits and pieces of it to fit their own needs.  Like the vegetarian part. It just sounds far more pretentious, not to mention, catchy, to ramble on to people who don’t give a shit about how you refuse to eat “anything with a face” or " anything with eyelashes”. 

Reincarnation: Awesome.  Why take accountability for your actions when you can blame it on you, three thousand years ago?  Now you can say "Oh, yea. It was me not me who did it".

Crystals: Rocks that no one cared about thirty years ago, but you can make money selling them to a bunch of chicks that are insecure about men.

Tibetan Singing Bowls:  Where else would you put your keys?

Fasting:  Back in the old days, if you didn’t have any food you starved…they were so spiritual, weren’t they?

Worshiping the Feminine:  As if pole dancing wasn’t already evidence for this.

Channeling:  Yes, you too can have some Nordic Viking that just “got it” take over your body.  If you are uncomfortable with that notion, you can see someone else that can do it, use Celtic music for some added ambiance and make up a bunch of nonsensical jibberish. For the low price of only $1,200 for a weekend with “Gemini”, whose BFF’s are Jesus, Buddha and Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute; you too can connect with your consciousness.  If you are poor, and can’t afford it, that’s your problem.  Cough it up bitches.  Enlightenment isn’t free.

Facebook:  Why would you be spiritual and not make sure everyone knows about it?  Isn’t that the point of being spiritual anyway?

Meditation:  Sit quietly and feel guilty because you can’t sit quietly.

I hate to cut this short, but I have to take my rescue dog for his chakra alignment.

 Have a good weekend.

The Cracked Crystal Ball

Trust me, I am more skeptical than most about psychics.  There are lots of charlatans out there that will take your hard earned cash with no conscience. These people prey on the gullible and laugh all the way to the bank.  They know how to read body language, watch for facial tension, pick up on vocal inflections and ask questions in a manner that simply garners information they can use later.  In short, if they were blindfolded and had to merely talk without asking questions, they would fail.

Then there are the real ones.  The ones that can genuinely help with big problems, assist with life decisions or give you a boost.  Many are also mediums and can provide information or messages (without asking questions) about your deceased loved ones. You should walk away from a reading feeling inspired, energetic, invigorated and healed. Not cheated or full of questions. Sometimes, knowing your grandma is still around and has made it to the other side is a very comforting thing.

This is a cautionary tale.  Rather than provide you with a list of things you should look for in a psychic, I’d much rather provide you with this story. It’s just far too good to not pass on.

I once met a nationally renowned psychic who decided she wanted to “take me under her wing.” Naturally, I was enthused when I found out and agreed to visit with her.  I found on her website, she had posted numerous videos of her television appearances. 

In one appearance, she stated, “The President will have lots of trouble with the economy”.  The interviewer was astounded as if she was receiving some sort of earth shattering news. The next sentence had my jaw on the floor.  “I am seeing that the economy will start picking up again”.  Really lady?  Could you be more vague?  What President hasn’t had lots of trouble with the economy?  And when has the economy not eventually picked up? My dog could have figured that out while licking his own ass.

Red flag.

We corresponded via email for several weeks.  She was throwing out ridiculously stupid comments about what she was seeing in my life. “I feel like you have been really stressed out”,  “It feels like perhaps you are having some financial difficulties”.  No and no.  I wasn’t stressed out and there was plenty of money in the bank.  These feeble shots in the dark went on for a week or so. 

I told her that it felt like her right foot had caused her significant problems.  I could feel she had recently had surgery on it.  I also suggested that the flowers sitting on her kitchen table were dying because she was being too negative about her foot and that’s why it wasn’t healing properly.  Bingo and a huge mistake on my part.

Suddenly, she wanted me on the radio with her.  She wanted to take me to Psychic Trade Shows, co-author a book and get me networking with the “right” people.  Oh, the money I could make!!!  One email consisted of a years worth of cyberspace why I should be charging lots of money for my “ability” and how she could be my agent.  It made me sick at my stomach.

It was far too entertaining to just let it go.  She arranged a time that we would talk on the phone and exchange readings.  Oh, hell yea.  I was in.

I was told that I had already been through 33,000 lifetimes.  I had an Angel named Bob or something that watched over me.  I was head strong and Bob said that it was time for me to start putting my own artwork on the wall (she already knew I was an artist).  My mother was supportive of my photography and artwork, she just didn’t tell me enough, but she wished she could come to visit more often.   I was going to become very, very sick, but I would survive.

All of this was said with the confidence of a serial killer.  33,000 lifetimes?  Impressive how she knew that,  Hang up my artwork?  Oh, the insight!  Yes, my mother did in fact have difficulty traveling and communicating.  She’s dead!  Yes, I was very, very sick.  The conversation was making me nauseous.

Now, it was my turn. 

I told her all I could see was a bird on her shoulder making up stories and repeating everything it heard.

She never called me back.

Say Cheese!

Ghost photography is always an interesting topic and one I approach with great skepticism.  

I think some folks go way overboard in reading into paranormal phenomena.  Don’t get me wrong, I believe in ghosts, spirits, energies…all that stuff.  I have seen it with my own third eye enough times to drop a load of ectoplasm in my underwear.  One must be very cautious before jumping to any conclusions.  I am more apt to believe someone saying they “sensed” something and give a precise, documentable story than any ghost picture.  That may seem odd considering that a picture is worth a thousand words.

There are things such as accidental double exposures (or purposeful), sudden luminance/light changes in an environment and let’s face it…Photoshop.  A camera (photographic or video) can suddenly and seemingly inexplicably go out of focus if there is even a small amount of change in lighting.  Auto focus can be very precise, not to mention temperamental; if it is set on one specific area and the camera moves, it will refoucus if the lighting is different.  Don’t be quick to think The Ghost of Mr. Chicken threw out your focus until you study lighting changes in the surrounding area. 

And yes, there are images that have been captured that appear to be perfectly legitimate. 
I don't doubt for a moment that thousands of folks have gotten authentic pictures.  I believe that the "other side" does in fact make it's presence known frequently.  I have a few that we could never find a logical explanation.  Sometimes, you just don’t want to explain it away because it is just fun to believe.

Like this one.  This was taken right before my high school graduation.  It is very possible that some sort of double exposure occurred in the film processing lab….but…we always knew we had a ghost in that house.  (Look in between the two graduation caps)

  The ghostly image of chili that had boiled over on the stove. I ruled out the paranormal on this one:

One summer, my sister and I spent many a night in graveyards attempting to photograph…well…something.  Out of over 1,000 shots, we got only got two questionable photographs. Somehow, like an idiot, I ended up deleting one of them and this one you have to look really hard to see anything…which at that point, becomes a matter of interpretation….not fact.

This particular night, we had gone to the graveyard earlier and gotten freaked out, so we left.  We both felt a strange sense of dark, bone chilling unwelcome-ness; so much so that my sister said "They do NOT want us here."  I was already in the car ready to peel out by the time she figured it out.  We ended up going back a few hours later to the same spot...don't ask the logic on this one...with a cop friend.  I guess we thought if we were taunted by dark forces, he could arrest them for harrasment or snuff them out with his gun. 

It was pitch black and my sister and I both felt a certain area in which to aim the camera.  We decided at this point, it was our last shot we would EVER take.  As crazy as it sounds, we decided that it felt "exploitive" to go to a graveyard to take pictures.  How would you feel if someone planted themselves in your yard trying to get photographs of you?  We called this picture "The Last Pose", since it appears as if someone is sitting on a tombstone (looks like legs hanging down) and there is some sort of image next to it. 

These were taken with a tri-pod at a 40 second exposure with a professional grade camera, they were also lightened after downloading to inspect for any ghostly images. 

I took a test shot of this photograph of my father and I in 1967 for a project I was doing.  When I uploaded it, I was fascinated to find “Mom” had appeared, as if it was hand written.  It was not visible when looking at the photo with the naked eye on either side.  Further inspection with a magnifying glass showed me that the photo had probably been placed under paper while I was writing (as a child).  It was a very cool notion initially, since my mother passed away many years ago.

This is just increidbly frightening: