Is the Gift of Knowing Returnable If I Saved the Receipt?
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Below.
I love movies (books, too) that have time travel in them. for me, pretty much any movie with a time travel subplot will win out over the most award-winning film in theatres.
I think it’s because I understand the complicated emotions that are usually overlooked in these movies. You know, like how the hero feels when he meets an alternate version of the woman who’s been his true love for years and he’s lost her and now he has a chance to be with her or save her or whatever but she doesn’t remember him or their time together because she’s been in a different time line. I have a suspense story in mind I’d like to write one day, Room Without a Door, where a woman is pulled from a car crash by a paramedic she was married to in a different timeline where he was killed. In this timeline, he’s alive, they’ve never met, he’s engaged to the woman who murdered his double, but she’s thought to be an over- medicated frootloop who’s stalking the poor guy. It will be an interesting creative exercise in what is reality and what isn’t.
I guess the idea of alternate timelines appeal to me so much because I’ve had intuitive flashes and warnings for so many years. The warnings show what might happen and give me an opportunity to prevent it. It’s like seeing a possible future and changing it. Nothing big or earth- shaking. No, it’s usually a matter of getting someone to the hospital in time or an assurance that everything will be fine.
The more at-ease I become with myself, the more I have those strange feelings of just knowing. I think most of my life, I’ve had these, but I rarely got confirmation so I didn’t trust any of it.
I’ve been more apt to trust it with other people, gifted intuitives I’ve worked with and researched with. A few days ago, I chatted by phone with a friend who’s a medical intuitive who promptly asked about my right wrist, my lower back, and my headaches. And that I was dehydrated. Yes, my right wrist is bothering me because of a repetitive stress injury. Yes, my lower back is stiff from the sofa I slept on at my mom’s. Yes, after breathing the fumes from the floor cleaners at the hospital, my sinus headaches have been ratcheted up to a dull throb and I’m fighting an infection from the irritants. She was dead-on. And yes, I’m dehydrated.
My Personal Obi-Wan recently listed about 10 unusual things that she thought I’d have to deal with by the end of December, some coming up a lot faster than others, and the need to be prepared to act when they happened. Well, within 24 hours, I’d already run right smack dab into three of them and two of those three were absolutely bizarre predictions involving people I hadn’t seen in years.
Me? It doesn’t seem that cut and dried when the “Gift of Knowing” drops a bit of knowledge on my head. Usually, I’ll ignore it. Or, I’ll deny it because I don’t trust it but then friends will get mad at me because to them it’s obvious that I knew something and acted accordingly when to me, I didn’t know it.
Last spring, I sat in my car with my brother and had a long conversation with him about people he’d known over the years. We usually see each other only once a year and try to catch up then. Our dad had been in the hospital, so this was one of those “out-of-cycle” visits that happens occasionally. For some reason, I felt very attuned to my brother that afternoon.
As we sat talking, I suddenly knew something that was going to happen. It was…obscure. The kind of thing you wouldn’t expect to happen, ever. The odds of it happen- ing were microscopic. It would involve time, strangers coming together, and quite a bit of effort and expense on their part. With life-altering results, in a very bad way. It didn’t come in a visual flash—more of a sudden epiphany, but instead of understanding something that had happened in the past, I understood something that was about to happen if I didn’t speak up and change it. I had to stop it.
I don’t think my brother believed me then. Or maybe he did and didn’t acknowledge it. But I was absolutely certain this thing was on the horizon. This wasn’t a fear talking. My fears are much more commonplace.
But I told my brother with absolute faith in what I knew that “This is coming unless you do something about it.”
To my knowledge, it never happened. Precautions were taken. Then it seemed silly. Cassandra syndrome, I know.
A few days ago, I learned that no, it didn’t hap- pen. But it was attempted. The situation was altered in such a way that the thing I’ d been warned about was pre- vented.
Things like that both scare me and comfort me at the same time. There are other things I know with total certainty are coming. Things that won’t make sense to any- one else now, things that other people would see as an opportunity to ridicule me for alleging, but I know they’re coming. I know they’re meant to be, and I know it with a quietness that connects me to the Universe with a low, steady hum in my soul.
It’s easy for those who haven’t experienced it to play the role of skeptics. Perhaps if they better understood field theory and satellite communications, they would understand the patterns of energy that permeate the world around us, but most won’t understand because they look for reasons not to.
Meanwhile, I’ll just entertain myself with this question: if you met someone you’d seen yourself with in an alternate timeline, what would you say to him?