by Ann Patty
To describe his voice, it was very much like his aura—strong, straightforward, taking charge, yet yielding. Can’t even describe his tone—husky without being abrasive; forceful without being demeaning; purpose-driven. It was addictive and I longed to hear him in person each day.
My sensitivities, when attached, tune into my mate with an astounding accuracy. Such was the case with Rich. I knew when he was online on our singles site; I felt it in my bones. So I’d go on and see and it was so true. Now, I should not have spied on his activities, but I couldn’t help it. And I wondered; if he was so enamored with me why was he still hunting? A habit? A roaming dog in heat?
One night I had a notion Rich was cheating on me. How absurd. Cheating online? So I signed on and he had his chat open. Pissed me off. Rich was commingling with others despite his full infatuation with me! I believed we had something special. We did. But he wandered. And, admittedly, so did I at times, to respond to messages. But I didn’t open a chat in pursuit of another hunt. In my opinion there was a difference. But Rich, he held my heart captive. So somehow he was cheating—gawd, the perils of tapping inside someone’s psyche. Being me, living inside my brain, was—is—not all it was cracked up to be.
The next morning I went online. Rich’s chat was on. So I got over my mental jealousy and jumped in. We had a long conversation. It was always interesting where we went. That day we chatted about how a soul’s scent is so strong you can locate anyone that way. Rich found my profile, but most likely he smelled my scent first. Who knows; maybe I traveled to him first and encouraged him to find me. Scent in the animal world dictates mating. Scents like a soul’s are unseen energies that permeate and transcend dimensions.
Emotional Intelligence
Rich and I talked a lot about intelligence. I mentioned about my ongoing dissatisfaction with the men I had met because they intentionally stopped learning and growing. Rich had wondered how many men wanted to learn from me, and stay along for the ride. I said too few. Told him that most folks were intimidated by my wit. Many did not have open minds. Most of the time I never mention anything about my psychic abilities. If nothing else, Rich could not consume enough of what I had to offer. He loved to learn, even though it stretched his brain muscles. I told Rich that I had finally made a website where I could point my pending dates. I had grown tired of explaining me. I figured if anyone had made it through my site and was still interested in me, then there was hope of a continuing conversation.
Having a personal website saved a lot of trite talk. If someone was accomplished, then they would match me better. Many a man commented about my bio accomplishments from my website. Then they disappeared. They got intimidated, which was not my intent, but it was apparent when they decided to move on without a word. Being smart was great, but finding an equal was not easy. At least the percentages were not in my favor. And that was okay. It would only take a special one. If nothing else, Rich gave me hope that there were men out there who matched my wit and brainpower and who were not intimidated.
Rich had an interesting comment: that he—his likeness—could be found in every third man, but me—my likeness—certainly could not be found in every third woman. In his eyes, I was one of a kind. I didn’t say it right then, but in my eyes HE was the ONLY kind. But I knew what he meant. That I had many facets to my being. And I could mold into a chameleon; either dumbing down, or rising to any occasion. Rich marveled that I was a never-ending reservoir of information. My intellect ran deep.
And then it came to be. The final cog in my knowing. In a few comments, my knowing came to fruition. Rich told me that he was borderline bipolar, but never crossed the line. I knew it. I knew it. Why do I know so much? There were clues. First, it was his intellect. Then it was the words he chose to use one day in a single sentence. And next, his strong sexuality. So Rich brought it up in chat and that was when I told him that I was bipolar. Maybe I had mentioned it in one of my books I sent him. Don’t know. But he took it all in stride. We conversed a bit on the topic, then moved on.
Bipolar Partner
Golly, it was refreshing to talk to someone who was not all bent on tweaking bipolar to be my problem and my big fault. Rich was a shaman all right in his relationship with me. His acceptance of reality was healthy and his view of my persona was what intrigued and attracted him to me. Rich was reshaping the light in which I saw myself. Sure, I could have done that for myself, but human validation, and especially from the opposite sex at that point in time, was intoxicating.
I could barely wait to make out with Rich. He had spoken openly of his sexuality. Even hinted overtly, strongly at us. Bipolar folks, or those borderline, have chemistry that allows a stronger sex drive. Perhaps some call it an obsessive craving. But BP folks have no problem with creativity thereto. I could only imagine what our bodies would and could do when we got together. We would be a wonderful match. I thought perhaps he’d come to me during the fall mating season selected for wild animals. I had heard the number two for a timeframe. But whatever that meant remained to be proven. Right then things were manifesting at a rapid rate.
Renewal
Rich had placed a sense of tranquility and love back inside my heart that I thought was lost. This type of love was compassionate and empathetic. It encompassed my whole being. I could finally look at a man and not be disgusted. I didn’t apply this abhorrence to the ones I knew already, rather to the ones I didn’t—primarily the ones who hit on me through those ridiculous online dating sites of which I was party. Literally the men there had all quite bored me. It was not that I was someone special. Rather, I had expectations of finding someone that did not exist. True, that was how I met Rich.
Without love, we are not complete. Being in love is a fragment of total self-love. My healing rate had been rapid, but my association with Rich had quickened—or rather, heightened—this sense. The outcome was that love had begun to ruminate from my essence. Actually, it flooded my entirety. It was an opium with its own merits.
It was apparent that both of us were falling for each other, and our emails reflected this sentiment:
Full summertime now, I wrote:
G’morning Rich,
Yesterday you mentioned that you—your type—could be found in every third guy, while me—my type is—not found in every third gal.
I know I’m not found in every third, fifth or seventh person, BUT neither are you - You are an ONLY.
My perception.
Rich’s Reply:
An “only” huh? SMILES... Not an “all men are alike and not to be trusted?”
Thanks. I will accept that as a compliment.
.. Lusted after you this a.m. a while... and then had a polite attack...
Later Precious
I could not believe that I didn’t doubt every move and word this man had uttered. He was in awe of me and my sensitivities and multi-dimensionality. Rich valued my extraterrestrial talk, but more so that I would come back to earth in the same sentence to say something trite, perhaps even obnoxious.
I was enamored with Rich for his ability to get me. Nobody else saw me the way he did and/or was verbal enough to admit his observations. To that date, there was one close exception: an incredibly special long-term pen pal, who had yet to materialize even after a two-year-long email affair. Funny thing was, it was okay! I adored that Rich adored me for me. I must remember to reread this when we get in our first tiff. We will be in tiffs, most assuredly. Rich knew how to push my buttons, and did do so at will.
Living with one person for thirty-six years, as I had done, brainwashed me to behave and react in a particular way. Couples adapt to their own dances that get entrenched. I left a marriage because it was not healthy. I knew what a healthy relationship was only because I knew what it should be, not because of firsthand experience. Rich was seemingly quite healthy, and he was a dynamic communicator. He was not a specimen of perfection, but he had a lot to offer me, his learner.
The shaman in Rich helped me understand more abou
t couple dynamics. My couple experiences were limited, while he had many. Not that many makes one better, but the takeaway learning found in each can be an asset. And I was no fool. Not having actually seen Rich, much less touch him other than through words, left room for enormous discoveries. But, for then, I delighted in our fantasy life. It was most intoxicating, liberating, and fun.
Orbs
Today’s Lesson: ORBS
Rich, I don’t know if you have ever encountered ‘orbs’ but they are an interesting anomaly that has become more prevalent in recent years. Basically they are circles of energy— seen around life forms, so it is suspected they are spirit life forms.
Orbs are often seen around festive events, however only seen through a camera lens. The naked eye cannot pick up an orb vision, but sensitive folks can definitely feel when they are present.
Orbs appear around animals more often than not, natural-nature settings, people with uplifting spiritual attributes, parties, children. See a pattern here? Orbs like pure, untainted energy. They can also be summoned to join a party—or to a person.
I have a book on Orbs but even the author cannot touch deeply enough on this phenomena. And, you know I like thoughts that go really, really deep. Personally, I think they are definitely energy manifesting in our reality. I also believe, since there are different configurations and sizes, that each orb has a purpose and a depth of spirit character... if one would call it that. On some dimensional level these orbs are a representation of their own universes. My hunch is that they come from the fifth dimension and cross over to our 3D to help uplift, clear and give back a natural balance. In a sense, they help out. Of course, this is my speculation, but this is what I get psychically.
The picture of Cleo’s grave showing the Orb above it is a prime example. My good friend took this picture recently—and in fact several consecutive pictures. Each photo had the same orb spot present. The photo was taken shortly after Cleo, her boyfriend’s cat was buried. My friend felt that the kitty had not crossed over but was hanging around. So she went and got her camera.
Next time you take a picture, take a close look. Those spots on your images are not mistakes—rather it is an energy that is reaching out to you > perhaps just to be acknowledged, maybe to energize your atmosphere, or to give an introduction to another dimension.
Throwing Hugs at You 4 Today,
ox
A single Orb over the fresh grave of a family pet
From Rich:
Thanks ever so much for Orb 101. I am still a bit crotch-bound on a barbed-wire fence over spirit guides. Just the same, I am lusting after you from afar.
Rich-ski
From Me:
Wow, Rich, I’m really sorry if I’m puttin’ ya over the top with cerebral overload. The concepts can be overwhelming. I’ll hold off on any more info for now. You might have 1001 questions before going forward. I’ll take your lead.
BTW you can lust after moi anytime... just wish it wasn’t in spirit form only.
From Rich:
Hey Sweets,
I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was completely overwhelmed. I am not… Just a bit high centered if ya know what I mean... It is my intention to call you tonight if you are available...
I have to admit that your reference to MY lust made me tingle a bit... Maybe more than a bit. Smiles
Thank you for all the time and effort you have expended on my behalf in hopes of, for me, to form some better understanding of the spiritual realm and what it entails. You are the best.
Thank you (smoooooch)
Rich
Love Locks
Dear Rich,
I don’t know if I like what you are doing to me. You are compromising me in ways to challenge my ambivalence, resoluteness, and steadfast will. While this sounds like a good thing... (I think it is)... really I am struggling with the notion of elevating myself to be a kinder, gentler person.
My friends already label me ‘nice.’ How nice does nice get? Sometimes I want to scream. I don’t want to be nice. I want to be bodacious, obnoxious, and generally a manic mess that knows no limits. Yes, that is it. I want to be out of control.
You have brought a light into me that has been absent in forever. Right now that light is on simmer. There will be a day when it will shine so brilliantly I won’t even know the person I am to become. And you will be blinded by what you created. I can see this scenario clearly. Two halves that equal one whole. A dynamic duo unleashed.
It makes me think we are original soul twins—or near twins. It is my strong opinion that when twins come to the near end of their cycle here, there is the reward of reuniting each with their other half. Poetic justice in action.
Really, if one thinks about it, falling in love later in life is completely different and far more enriching. Sure, the rigors of youth had their time. But the depth of who we have become alters a relationship a thousand times for the best.
How is this occurrence made possible and blooms easily inside a woman-man exchange? Must I be falling in love with you? Love transcends all, right? But I am falling—so what is wrong with me?
Yet, it is more than that and it is hard for this word wizard to conjure up a literary statement. However, let me attempt to explain.
When we have total self-love we then attract our divine complement. Our twin soul. This is the gift the universe grants to us in the form of our other human half. The balance of the male and female has occurred within so we cannot help but attract our mirror self. If only for the sake of expansion and becoming one with ourselves. For only in the giving do we receive.
My never-ending thoughts for you on this day.
Vision Quest
This letter was written to Rich and described what happens when I get my visions.
Rich, I might be selfish here because after you read this if you have any observations or comments, I’m all over-open to it. Perspective is important to me and even if you believe you are not terribly knowing of the spiritual realm, you are incredibly intuitive and logical. Your opinion is valued.
So here is how it goes. When I get a vision they just come at random times. There is no particular place or time, except that my brain is on an empty page waiting to be filled. So in floats a vision that may occupy a second or two of time in this reality, then escapes, leaving me perplexed for hours. The vision is not a solo event. Many times I will receive this vision many times spread out over perhaps a month, or months. Their frequency then becomes more compressed before the actual event happens. The visions for a single event are always the same. It is like a slice of time that falls out of a future dimension. A slice of pie that gets consumed, but the remainder of the pie stays in tack, untouched, and unseen. The strongest visions always have an emotional attachment to them—meaning the visions that I receive come from the strength of the future emotion I am to experience. This leaves me to think that these visions are already a reality played out in some other dimension. I just need to catch up to that other reality in this 3D life.
It is amazing how one thought can be so rich and full of information. It is much like an event one experiences. These visions do have the same informational qualities that I get when doing readings, but are FAR more robust. Unlike a reading, my visions are in full living color, just like TV! I see characters—I know who they are, I feel strong emotions, and see all the action. It’s like watching a stage act. If I am one of the characters, I see me from outside of myself, like looking from a side angle—or from above. Out of body before the fact? Perhaps.
One of my visions that came to fruition was the day Toby, my puppy, rammed himself into a fence post while playing. The visions started about a month after I adopted him. Again it was only a slice of information, not enough to figure out the surrounding circumstances. What I saw was Toby in my neighbor friend’s arms being carried towards me. Rob was striding over a grassy field to deliver Toby lifeless in his arms to me. This was all I was allowed to see. I could feel the situation was grave, but not lif
e-threatening. This vision hit me at least five times prior to, and then a few times within, the week before the accident. I wanted to scream out to the universe to show me more, but it was futile. Try as I might, I looked in and around the visions as if it were a cutout cardboard mask. I could never get any more info on the sighting. Each time I asked of Toby’s welfare. Each time I was told that he was—could be—on the bridge of death, yet he was not to cross over.
