The Little Voice From Within.

4 min read
20 Jun

I'm cleaning off my work desk. Notes are scattered all over on tiny bits of scratch paper. Thank you notes are strewn about haphazardly as if I was in a rush the last time I grabbed one. One bulging envelope sits on top with business cards inside. 

I hear my kids downstairs, celebrating their first day of summer vacation by watching tv. I don't blame them. Rain moved in last night, and when it moved out this morning, it left a massive fog bank. The fog has held in the humidity, and walking outside makes you feel drenched in sweat. I choose to allow the mind-numbing television to stay on. Summer has just begun, and it's not worth the fight of trying to turn it off. 

If you just looked outside, you could almost imagine it was early Spring, dark, damp, and cold. A part of me wishes for the chilly weather to come back. It fits my mood. It's not overly exciting, a tad dark, and isn't in a hurry to do anything. I'm getting over a cold/flu that has run through my family. Yesterday I alternated between sleeping and walking around feeling like a zombie as my body ached and my throat was sore. Today my body aches are almost gone, and the sore throat remains. I'm trying to be gentle with myself yet as a mom, and things still need to get done. 

I start organizing my desk and a sense of anxiety ripples through me. 

"You're not good enough," I hear in my head. 

I grab the envelope stuffed with business cards, and I count them out. One, two, three, four... I end up with thirty. I put the cards back in the envelope and put it to the side. 

"You can't do this" I hear a voice in my head say. 

I grab a stack of brochures I had printed out for One-question over a month ago and start counting them out. The brochures make me laugh and slightly uncomfortable. I made them to hand out at intuitive parties, to explain to prospective clients who I am and what my standards are. Inside the brochure, there is a photo of me looking slightly pensive holding a cup of tea. The picture isn't how I see myself, yet I think it's how a lot of the world sees me. I tend to be on the severe side. I analyze everything. It takes a lot to make me laugh. The photo was supposed to convey a sense of comfort to the eye. No crystal ball, no wild hair. Just a woman in her mid-thirties with a french braid and a plaid shirt. Fashion apparently wasn't the focus I was going for. 

 This little booklet is essentially three pages all about me, which is why I hate handing them out. I feel like it's saying, 

"Here! Look how cool I am! I'm PSYCHIC!!"

When I just want to curl into a ball and not advertise my abilities. But, that ship has sailed. What I want to do and what I need to do are two different things. So, I created the brochure so people could see me- as "Psychic-Intuitive-Medium-Whatever-Nancy." 

I count out the brochures to an even thirty and put them off to the side. 

"What are you doing??" Another thought comes to me. 

My hair is still damp from my earlier shower, and it makes the back of my shirt slightly wet. It hangs in clumps, yet I don't think about brushing it. I continue to focus on organizing my desk. I throw old notes away. I put my folder of, "One-question stickers" that I use when sending out my hand-made bracelets in the file box. One of my cats purrs happily on the chair as I move around, enjoying the company. Her front paws tuck in, and she rests her chin. Her eyes open and close slightly, keeping an eye on me, yet still not caring that much. 

My mind isn't present, even if my body is. My stomach is in knots as negative thoughts continue to enter my consciousness. I allow the feelings to flow through, but I try not to pay too much attention to them. They persist, and so I sit down to blog. Perhaps if I distract my mind, I can stop the thoughts from harming. 

A part of me is still doubtful in my abilities. Someone messaged me today innocently asking what abilities I had, and I had to look up the actual definitions before answering. For a long time, I think I tried to ignore my "psychic abilities," hoping they would go away. I was scared of my thoughts. I didn't know "how" I knew things. I would be speaking to someone and all of a sudden I would see the actual place they were speaking of. I didn't understand how I could do it, only that I could do it. It made me feel frankly, like a freak. 

I think that's why when people spew biblical verses at me, it hurts me so much. I have tried so hard to be a good Christian. I have sinned, I have fallen, I have done horrible things and repented. Once in college, I borrowed a bunch of library books from a friend, and I racked up a bunch of fines before returning them. I never paid the fines she owed. I was broke and was too ashamed to admit it. I still feel guilty when I think of it twenty years later. 

As I have grown though, I realize that being a good "Christian" and being a good person aren't always synonymous. There are lots of good Christians that aren't good people, and there are many, many, good people that aren't Christian. Regardless, I know for a practical fact that we all go to the same place. I've connected with plenty of people that have passed over that had a variety of religious beliefs. We shouldn't slam anyone else because they are different than us, period. 

My abilities and my moral compass go hand in hand. When my moral compass starts to go askew (perhaps over truth-serum otherwise known as wine), my Buddhist-husband generally has an analogy to get me pointing back to North again. In my brochure, I promise never to lie, never to take advantage, to never push anyone into a reading or beyond where they are comfortable. But what about when I am uncomfortable?

Next Friday, I'm going to Chicago for my first business trip. I am grateful to be completely booked up, and I will be working every single day. I am there for hours at a time. Clients that have become friends have done a fantastic job filling every slot for me. This trip started as a "random" thought that I needed to go out there. It was nagging me and continued for several days until I finally messaged a couple of former clients in the Chicago area to get their viewpoint. I remember being afraid to send the message. Would they laugh in my face? Say I was crazy and over-ambitious? Instead, my idea was welcomed, and talk of a girls trip to meet each other filled my messages. 

That was two months ago. Now I'm a week away, and I find myself making friends with self-doubt again. Even cleaning off my workspace brings about negative self-talk. I'm worried that the workload I have set out for myself will lead to failure. I'm concerned that I won't be able to read people. I'm worried that I'm going to be laughed at. I'm afraid that people will test me and my abilities. I'm concerned that I will be a Freak in the room. 

Facebook instituted a "labeling" with pages. I had to choose a category. Apparently, "Astrology and Psychic" go together, so that's what it says under my name. 

"Freak" I hear in my head. 

I'm not an astrologist. I don't consult the stars. I'm simply a woman that knows things and connects with people that have passed on. 

Because of the labeling, I feel this sense of shame. 

This trip in itself is a symbol of success for me. It is hard to feel success when doubt is in your head. 

It is hard to let the light in when fog hangs around. You have to want the sun to break through. 

You have to WANT to feel the warmth on your face from the sun and to hear the birds singing. 

If you block out the light and focus on the negative, you will not see anything but. 

It takes work to push through the darkness. 

But it is worth it. 

So, I choose to honor my light within. 

I choose to see the organized business cards and brochures on my desk and smile, knowing that next week, they will be in the hands-on clients and friends I haven't met yet. 

I choose to see the scratch paper on the desk as a sign of success- notes written for clients, ideas I have for the website, they are all proof that my abilities are no longer hidden. 

I choose to think of next weekend, not with fear, but with excitement. My first business trip. Me. The Freak. 

Well, this Freak is headed to Chicago next Friday. 

This, "Un-Godly Woman" is going to be meeting with over twenty clients. 

I am not ashamed of my abilities. I am ashamed of those the feel I deserve hell and damnation because of my abilities. 

I do not question my faith; I only question those that would challenge my life choices. Judgment is owned by those that judge. 

I am honest about my shortcomings. I am a work in progress. 

I choose to honor my light within and share it with others. 

I cannot wait for Chicago.

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