Golden Retriever to the Rescue


Noah and Nika – Noah the Golden

This post grew out of another on creativity and precognition, about how people who work in artistic fields often tap into the future through their works. It comes from writer and novelist Randy Russell. He wrote Ghost Dogs of the South as well as a number of other books on ghosts and several novels. Look him up on Amazon. I suspect Randy is one of those people who’s a magnet for synchronicities, spirit communication and other things that go bump in the night.

In an exchange of emails verifying an experience he had, he related an intriguing true story that he collected for Ghost Dogs of the South. He couldn’t use it, though, because it didn’t happen in the South!

Four teenagers, two girls who were best friends and their boyfriends, seniors in high school, sneaked out to go rafting on the Colorado River. The rapids turned bad and swept them away, down a portion of the river where rafting wasn’t allowed. They fell out of the raft, which was either swept away or destroyed.

They ended up stranded on the river sandbar island with no way off. Not only was it near dark, it was also getting cold. “The boys decided to become heroes and braved crossing the river rapids to seek help. They probably didn’t give a thought to the fact that they were leaving the two girls abandoned on that sand island, overnight,” Randy wrote. “The two girls were left shivering on the sand bar island in their bikinis. Kids, you know. The two girls huddled. It was the best they could do. Then one girl’s Golden Retriever shows up.”

The dog was alive, actually at home, so the girl just kept staring at the dog, trying to figure out how it had gotten to the sandbar. Then the dog started digging in the sand in front of them and got down into the hole – and vanished. The teenagers caught on. The girls dug holes in the sand, climbed in, and covered themselves with sand in order to keep warm and survive the night.

“They were rescued by helicopter the next morning. And now I don’t remember who told me of this occurrence. She was also a writer, btw.  Hey, it wasn’t you, was it?”

Nope, the story didn’t come from me! What I find especially interesting about it is that the girl’s Golden Retriever, a breed known for loyalty to the people it loves, sensed she was in trouble and was able to materialize in front of her to show her what she should do. Was the dog out of body? How was it able to project an image of itself that could dig a hole in the sand so that the girls would understand how to survive the night?

Randy wrote, “I like to think the dog sensed their discomfort ~ danger. As a close family member might in general sense a family member in stress miles and miles and miles away. Dogs’ ability to respond to spiritual influences is more sensitive than our own ability to do so.  Kind of like their sense of smell is so much better than ours.”




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The Female Archetype, Rising

Depending on which news sources you read about the Women’s March, it appears that many of these marches had a turnout that blew apart expectations: 500,000 in D.C., 400,000 in NYC, 500,000 in L.A, 250,000 in Chicago, 90,000 in Minneapolis, and thousands more in more than 300 cities across the U.S. and in numerous foreign countries. Think about this for a moment. Trumps’ inauguration drew under a million. Just the numbers in these four cities blow his numbers out of the water.

What we may be seeing here is the rise of the feminine archetype.

Trump and the racist, mysoginist billionaires and millionaires in his cabinet seem to think that they will be able to shove women back into the 1950s, rob Afro-Americans and minorities of their rights to vote and to do anything else guaranteed under the Bill of Rights. They seem to believe they can do this because, after all, he is THE DONALD, the king of reality TV who spins facts to suit his version of reality. He has those who aid and abet him in this surreal world we’ve entered – Kellyanne Conway as one of the worst.

It’s beyond me to understand how any woman, of any ethnicity, religion, or political belief, can support a man who denigrates women and minorities at every opportunity. And how can a woman who has daughters support this guy? Each day will bring a new revelation about what will be DEFUNDED. Planned Parenthood, the Affordable Care Act, the National Foundation of the Arts, regulations on emissions. That’s just for starters.

Rob and I attended a rally in West Palm Beach with our friends Dwane, Rose, and Estis. The organizers were hoping for 1600. More like 5,000 showed up and many of them carried signs.



Some of the others moved past too quickly for me to photograph:

Now you’ve pissed off a grandmother.

Keep your small hands off my tits.

The best I saw was too far away to photograph. It read: OBAMACARED.

The White House is now occupied by a man so crass, so narcissistic,  that when you put him up next to the class act of Obama, he’s the lone clown dancing on top of a train wreck tweeting his foreign policies and his attacks on the media and everyone else in 140 characters or less. His every action screams, Hey, pay attention to me, I’m the best, the greatest…

Sure. And we’re watching you,we women are. We know what you are. We know you hope to take us back to the days of Leave it to Beaver and The Donna Reed Show. We know you hope to take us back to the days of abortions in dark alleys, of no contraception, of robbing us of the decisions to govern our own bodies. We know you hope to silence us, to bring us to some more perverted version of The Handmaid’s Tale,  The Hunger Games, On the Beach, or to a  Dystopian reality that no storyteller has conceived of yet.

But understand this: you have awakened the female archetype, that collective something in us that refuses to submit, become submissive, to draw back into the shadows. And when this archetype rises,  dudes like you don’t stand a chance.


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Dreamland with Whitley Strieber


About a week ago, we were on Dreamland with Whitley Strieber to talk about Sensing the Future. It’s always a pleasure talking to him and this interview was particularly enlightening.

Whitley kindly introduces us this way: “Trish and Rob MacGregor are frequent and eagerly anticipated guest on Dreamland and they’re back with Sensing the Future: How to Tap In Your Intuition and Read Signs from the Universe to Predict What’s to Come.

“In the first half of the show they offer some new explanations about precognition and how to see the future in ways that actually work, but the second half is where it really gets eerie when Whitley brings out his personal dream book and begins discussing his recurrent dreams of a mind-boggling inundation.”

You can listen here.








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Trump Trackdown

Here’s a fascinating prediction of the coming of Trump from an episode of a 1958 Western called Trackdown. In this episode, a snake-oil salesman named Trump talks about building a wall to save everyone.

When I saw this four-minute clip, I figured the name ‘Trump’ was a voice-over. But I was surprised when I went to and found out it’s legit – the character who was going to build the wall was really named Trump. It’s an example of  synchronicity and precognition through the creative process.



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My Way


The song for the first inaugural dance Friday evening featuring President Trump and Melania: My Way, by Frank Sinatra.The title seems appropriate for Trump’s style of leadership. However, take a look at the first  line of that song: ‘And now the end is near.’ Nancy Sinatra pointed out the apocalyptic lyric here.

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Marches on January 21

women's march

Are you headed to one of the women’s marches all over the country on January 21? Men are welcome, too!

We’ll be at Trump Plaza in downtown West Palm Beach on Saturday. And no, contrary to what some fake news sites are reporting, these marchers aren’t being paid $2,500 to do this. Or if they are, we don’t know about it. No one has offered us a check for five grand.

Here’s Trump Plaza:


See you there!


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Talking with Alexis Brooks

On January 9, we spent a delightful hour talking with Alexis Brooks of Higher Journeys and Conscious Life News.

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A Lucid dream or OOBE?


Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish between an out of body experience and a lucid dream. Usually, the distinguishing factor is that the dreamer is aware of leaving the body and can look back and see his or her sleeping self, but feel consciously awake and separate. A lucid dream creates the same ‘wakefulness’ and allows the dreamer to control events in the dream. But that dream scenario is usually far different from the waking world, whereas someone who is out of body typically experiences what appears to be the normal familiar settings…unless he or she soars off into the cosmos.

Dale Dassel recently sent me what he called a lucid dream, but it seemed very similar to an OOBE to me.

For background, Dale and his father had just returned home to Georgia from a trip to east Texas when Dale had the dream. They’d been looking for a house near where they lived for 16 years in the Jefferson/Longview area of east Texas. As they headed  home, Dale made a detour to take a look at their old family home in a wooded neighborhood. He thinks the visit to the house was a catalyst for the dream.

“I was standing at the top of the driveway (the house is on a hill), where the concrete pad slopes down towards side yard. Instead of the hedgerow bushes (as seen in the photo), the edge of the concrete was bordered by a wood-textured fence painted in glossy beige paint. That was obviously a dream element, because such a fence has never existed there in real life. I walked over to it, then reached out both hands (fingers wide) and touched the fence. And I could really feel it! I could feel the nubbled surface and thick paint.

“Then I suddenly realized that I was in one of those dreams – where I could explore at will, do anything. The ultimate virtual reality. The imagery was vibrant and ultra-clear. In my excitement I tried to turn around to look at the house, but I moved too fast and I lost my focus on the world. Everything flared ultra-bright white, like looking directly at the sun, and I felt myself momentarily detach.

“I struggled to maintain my hold on the dream, and the scene quickly re-materialized. I turned around and looked across the driveway at the house. The car port wasn’t there, and I saw the outer screen door side entry (the back door), right beside the brick chimney.  Everything looked exactly like it did when we lived there! The sun was shining and the sky was beautiful blue. It was late dawn, probably about 9:30 in the morning. 

“A tremendous wave of elation overcame me and I rushed towards the house, opened the door, and stepped inside to the kitchen. The wood-paneled walls, cabinets, bar, wall decor were all exactly like it was before, but it was a blur because I saw the familiar figure of Mom sitting in the chair at the kitchen table. She stood up and turned as I came approached. She was beautiful, younger and cancer-free. 

“My heart soared with joy. She smiled at me, and I threw my arms around her in a loving embrace. I think I was crying, but the experience was so powerful that I can’t remember now. But I could feel her – the familiar shape of her body, just as real as touching my own hand right now. It was wonderful – pure elation – the strongest emotion possible. It was so moving and powerful that the dream dissolved and I felt my body as I lay in bed, warmly tucked under the covers.”

Having had only one other lucid dream (in March 2013), I can verify that it was the exact same sensation – I could feel my physical body lying in bed, numb and tingly, vibrating on some low frequency, while my consciousness was ultra-vivid and clear. The dream imagery was incredibly bright and vibrant, like an over-saturated photo exposure, and I could literally, physically feel whatever I touched. It was unbelievably real.


Dale is convinced it was a lucid dream, because the house is no longer exactly like it was when he lived there. Yet, he also could’ve been out of body and visiting his deceased mother in an after-death reality where she lives or visits a house that is exactly like the one where they’d lived. Would a lucid dream be any less real? When you move into alternate realities, it seems the distinction between those two states blurs.




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Two dogs named Tome


Here’s a startling dog synchro that comes from Connie Cannon.

“Yesterday I was watching Law & Order from 2pm to 3pm. In that episode, there was a suspect whose mother owned a dog named “Tome,” pronounced “to Me”. I have never heard of that name or word except that my friend Ron has an Australian Shepherd whom he named TUME, pronounced the same way. As I watched the show and heard the TV dog’s name several times, of course I thought of Ron and his TUME. She was his constant companion, accompanying him everywhere he went, and especially on his big boat.
“Ron called me a little while ago. He was planning to come by and visit with me but I’m too unstable today, so he drove on back to Orlando and phoned me from the vehicle. He told me that his TUME had transitioned. She was 14 and had been very ill. He had her all her life and even though he knew for awhile that she had little time, he was of course devastated.
“He had her cremated, and brought her ashes up here yesterday, took her ashes to her favorite spot on the waterway, and a friend gave a beautiful eulogy and they spread Tume’s ashes across her favorite water place. IT WAS AT 2:30 pm, exactly the time I was watching the TV show that had the pup named To-me in it.
“It wouldn’t be so astonishing if the name wasn’t so unusual. But how many times have you heard of a dog or pet named TO-ME or TUME???
That is an odd name for a dog. We once had a blogger who visited us regularly and called herself Toumai….as in Two May. Her name was May and she thought she had another May, an invisible double, living inside her. In other words, two me’s. 
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Fire Synchros



On January 9, I was fixing myself a turkey burger. A large lid covered the smaller pan where the burger was cooking away in olive oil. Rob and I were talking about our appearance that night on Coast to Coast and I was also telling him that the person for whom I’m ghostwriting a book was getting fired up about it.

Suddenly, flames shot up from the frying pan, tall flames. Unlike what you see at a steakhouse, these flames were NOT controlled or deliberate. The smoke alarm shrieked and I grabbed the pan’s handle, tossed it in the sink, turned on the water. Neither of us got hurt, it was just startling.

Rob and I just looked at each other. “Wow, what’s that mean?” I exclaimed.

“What were we talking about?”

“Coast to Coast and the ghostwriting project – how the client is getting psyched.”

In this instance, it seems that our conversation was symbolically manifested in physical reality.

Later that evening, we both napped for awhile before Coast to Coast, where we were scheduled to appear from 3-5 am. I finally got up at 11, unable to sleep, and as I went into my office, the large floor lamp went out. It’s been acting up lately and getting a new lamp has been on my list of stuff to do.

I changed the bulb and suddenly there was a tremendous popping sound and flames shot up through the inside of the lamp. Fortunately, they were contained within the metal pole and visible only where the pole connected to the glass lampshade. I blew out the flames and quickly unplugged the lamp and took it out of my office.

So that’s two fires within less than twelve hours. No injuries, just surprise! I know what the first fire meant. But I’m clueless about the second one. Except. During the Coast to Coast show, George Noory asked what our next book was and suggest one on telekinesis. Ah, I thought. A firestarter!

Today, January 11, I went out and bought a new lamp.



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Tapping into the Future Through Creativity


Sometimes, novelists use their writer friends in their books. In U R Mine, my friend Nancy Pickard isn’t just a bestselling writer who owns a bookstore, she owns the coolest bookstore in town – Oxford Books. The protagonist holds a private painting event as her bookstore.

Nancy, who is reading the book, emailed me today:

I just got to my bookstore!! I’m so excited. A few minutes later, she emailed again:

I have a writer friend, Randy Russell, who named the a character in his first book after his best friend. In the book, the character got shot and killed. In real life, some months later, the friend got shot though not killed. Randy hasn’t named characters after people since then! You didn’t kill me in this book, did you? : )

 I assured Nancy that I hadn’t killed her in the novel and never would! I was struck by Randy’s experience. Nancy recommended that I email him and ask if her recollection is correct. He said it was correct and his email is so rich with this kind of thing that it’s the subject  of a post for another day.

What happened to Randy – tapping into the future through creativity – is the focus of one of the chapters in our book Sensing the Future. It’s about how writers, artists, musicians, and others who work in creative fields, often tap into the future through their work. It’s one of my personal favorites.

The chapter includes an experience that Nancy had related to her novel The Virgin of Small Plains. It was published in 2006 and the experience happened five years later.


The story takes place during a blizzard in Kansas in 1987 and centers around the discovery of the naked body of a teenage girl and the dark secrets surrounding her murder.

“This happened in Abilene, Kansas, but before I tell you what happened there, I’ll tell you what happens in the book. In The Virgin of Small Plains, our heroine goes with three women friends to a restaurant for lunch in the small town.  As they travel there, they’re aware of severe storm warnings.  At the restaurant, while they’re seated at a round wooden table, one of them looks out the windows and notices that the sky has turned seriously ominous. She tells the others, and they all get up and troop to the windows to look. 

“At that moment, a tornado warning siren blares.  The women hurry to the restaurant basement with the rest of the customers, except for our heroine, who hangs back to stare at the boiling clouds.”

Now here is the precognitive part of this. Nancy and three friends were en route (in real life) to Abilene to have lunch at The Kirby House, a popular spot. They’re aware that severe storm warnings have been issued. At the restaurant, they’re seated at a round wooden table. Nancy looks out the window and notices that the sky has turned seriously ominous.

In real life, Nancy mentions the sky to her friends and they all hurry to the windows to look. At that moment, a tornado warning siren blares.

Everyone except for Nancy hastens to the restaurant basement with the rest of the customers. Nancy hangs back to stare at the boiling clouds. And then it hits her and she exclaims, “Wow, this is just like in my book!”

Notice the words in bold in both the fictional and real-life versions of the story. The details don’t just dovetail; they’re identical. In real life five years after the book was published, Nancy becomes the heroine in her novel. She does exactly what her character does.

A skeptic might argue that Nancy imbued her protagonist with elements of herself, so yes, of course it makes sense that the fictional character would act like she would. But what about the external conditions? A trip for lunch to another town with three female friends, the round table at which they sit, the storm warnings en route, the glance out the window at the scary sky, the tornado warning sirens, and everyone but the heroine makes it into the basement.

Sensing the Future is published today! And the good news is that we all have the ability to do this.


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Join us on Coast to Coast

We’ll be on Coast to Coast tonight to talk about Sensing the Future with George Noory. 3-5 am Eastern, Midnight – 2 am pacific. Hope to see you there!



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The Trump Zone


When I saw this pic Dec. 31, I was aware of course that the image spoke for itself. Yet, I thought what could Rod Serling be saying. When I woke up on New Year’s Day, I thought what if everyone was waking up and it was Jan. 1, 1917! That would be a surprise. Then I realized I had the answer to what Rod Serling might be saying.

“He told his ardent followers over and over, ‘Let’s make America great again. Let’s make America great again.’ And after a big New Year’s Eve bash at his Florida mansion, he and everyone who voted for him woke up the next morning, and it was Jan. 1…1917.”

So I put that up on FB, and a few minutes later, I was looking at the television listings and was puzzled that there were no bowl games. Usually, New Year’s Day features the Rose Bowl, the Sugar Bowl and the Cotton Bowl. But there was none of that. Had I drifted into another reality?

Then I noticed that the SyFy Channel was showing nothing but episodes of the The Twilight Zone, one after another.Dee-dee, dee-dee. Dee-dee, dee-dee!

I did find out that the bowl games were pushed back a day, because they the college bowls didn’t want to compete with the NFL, which was featuring the final games of the regular season. So I guess I’m still in the same reality, one that’s going to get pretty strange later this month.

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Ode to Joy

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Johnny Smith saw the future




I was taking Megan to a garage to pick up her car and she was just finishing THE DEAD ZONE, by Stephen King that was published 37 years ago. The story features Johnny Smith who fell on the ice and hit his head when he was six and was later in a car crash that put him in a coma for four years. When he came out of it, he could see future events.

As we approached the shop, Megan said: “Dad, listen to this.” It was a passage in which Johnny has written a letter to this father. In it, he says:

If Stillson becomes president, he’s going to worsen an international situation that is going to be pretty awful to begin with. If Stillson becomes president, he is going to end up precipitating a full-scale nuclear war. I believe that the initial flashpoint for this war is South Africa. And I also believe that in the short, bloody course of this war, it’s not going to be just two or three nations throwing warheads, but maybe as many as twenty—plus terrorist groups.

Stillson is on the fast-track to become president. He’s an arrogant, boastful businessman and huckster, who wears a hardhat—remindful of Trump’s baseball hat—to attract working class supporters. His detractors, including Johnny, consider him dangerous. If Stillson is elected, Johnny picks up that he will be America’s last president.

Megan googled ‘Greg Stillson Donald Trump’ on her phone to see if others had noted the comparison. She didn’t even need to put in Trump’s name. It came right up with Stillson, and there were several choices of blogs and websites writing about the comparison.

There was even a tweet from…no, not Trump, but King from earlier this year: Populist demagogues like He Who Must Not Be Named aren’t a new thing; see THE DEAD ZONE, published 37 years ago.

I don’t think there’s any question about who King was referring to in that tweet. Trump was on the rise knocking off competitors one after another. Megan was finishing the book just a couple of days after Trump was tweeting about expanding America’s nuclear capacity  just as Russia’s Putin was saying the same for Russia. Putin is dangerous and crafty. He’s now worth an astonishing $85 billion, even though his salary is the equivalent of $137,000 a year. Yet, like many others, I’m more concerned about nukes in the hands of a Trump, a man who has repeatedly shown how easily offended he is and how he  always feels a need to strike back.

Johnny glimpses the end of the world when he shakes hands with Stillson and knows he had to do something to stop him. He fails, but inadvertently Stillson’s reaction reveals his  willingness to sacrifice others, even children, for his cause—a weakness that turns into his downfall.

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Some Synchro Guidance for the New Year


Our daughter Megan was home for Christmas and we were just starting a game of Scrabble. While I was waiting for Megan to make the first move, I looked at my cell phone where I’d earlier been playing a similar game, Word with Friends. It was my move and I made the word: FOUNT. Just then, Megan made her move. Her word: FOUNTS.

A fount is defined as a source of a desirable quality or commodity. Amazingly, we’d both come up with the same word. We were a fount of synchronicity! A good sign for the new year.

Here’s a list of scenarios in which synchronicities can happen.  During the coming weeks and months of 2017, see how many of these scenarios play out in your life. The list was adapted from comments in a review of Bernard Beitman’s book, Connecting with Coincidence.

  1. You get a message or an email from someone you were just thinking about.
  2. An ad or a product in a store solves a problem you have, even though you weren’t looking for it.
  3. You watch a movie or TV series that has a story that mirrors your own current issues.
  4. Strangers in public talk about things you have been reflecting on your life.
  5. You encounter someone who is able to assist you related to a recent challenge.
  6. You receive an inspiring message that comes to you at the appropriate time, possibly positive words that help you achieve your goal or resolve a problem.
  7. Incredible timing. One thing after another comes your way with perfect timing. It seems that everything is perfectly aligned.
  8. Signs appear in your environment that provide you a needed message.



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Drones, Champagne, Precognition, & the New Year!


One of the wonderful side benefits of the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve is getting together with old friends. A couple of times a year, Melissa visits her family in our old neighborhood where we lived for the first eleven years of our daughter’s life. Melissa, who is ten or eleven years older than Megan, used to babysit for her.

Today, she lives in Manhattan with her husband, Jon, a videographer, and their very old cat, Star, and is an avid chronicler of how the weird and the strange – synchronicity, spirit contact, the paranormal – manifests itself in her life. So when Melissa tells me a story, I listen closely.

We met for lunch shortly after Christmas, at our favorite spot, the Macaroni Grill. The place was empty, so we got a great booth at the back of the restaurant. Melissa doesn’t waste time; she immediately launched into her “sensing the future” story.

On Christmas, she and her family – parents, her three brothers and a sister, were sitting out in the yard, sipping champagne while her dad was trying to fly a drone he got for Christmas.  They live on a lake, so there’s plenty of space to play around with a drone. But her dad, she says, didn’t know what he was doing. As she sipped from her glass, she felt a sudden certainty that the drone was going to hit her glass of champagne.

“This was a gut certainty,” she said. “I knew it was going to happen.”

She quickly set her glass down on the table and just seconds later, the drone struck her glass, shattering it.

Granted, this isn’t a sweeping precognition that ripples out through the larger world and changes events, belief systems. But it rippled through Melissa’s personal world so that she sat there, staring at the shattered glass, thinking, OMG, I knew this was going to happen.

 This kind of precognition beautifully illustrates how precognition works on even the most mundane levels in our lives. We might have a sudden impulse to do something we’ve never done before – take a different route to work, try a food we’ve never sampled before, talk to a stranger – and a new world suddenly opens to us. We have come face to face with our own ability to sense the future.

The larger question here, I think, is what do we do with this knowledge, this realization?

Nearly seventeen years ago, in June 2000, I returned home, exhausted, from a writers’ conference. In the early morning hours, I dreamed I was conducting my workshop and someone at the conference handed me a Post-It with a message on it: You just got a call that your mother has died.

 At the time, my mother – Rose Marie – had been in an Alzheimer’s facility for more than two years, my dad was living with us, and our daughter was sleeping in the living room because she’d given up her bedroom to her granddad. The dream scared me. I walked out into the kitchen, where my dad and Rob were sitting, and told them my dream.

My dad went pale. “I was just telling Rob that last night I dreamed that Rose Marie died.”

And several weeks later, she did.

From the mundane to the profound: that’s how precognition works. You can sometimes summon a precognition, create an inner climate that is conducive to it. But usually, external circumstances thrust that awareness at you, right in your face. From a drone shattering a glass of champagne to the death of a parent, sensing the future doesn’t seem to have any boundaries or borders, any rules, and only a single piece of advice: pay attention.

Melissa did. And perhaps she avoided cuts to her hands as that glass of champagne shattered.

I paid attention and that precognitive dream helped me to prepare myself emotionally for my mother’s death.

What are your experiences telling you?


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Netflix started out as an alternative to Blockbuster – mailing CDs to your home for a nominal price – and has completely changed the landscape of TV programming with their original shows. Orange is the New Black. House of Cards. AO.

AO is a fascinating show about multiple dimensional existence as seen through Near-Death Experiences. I also think it’s based on Carlos Castaneda’s later books, where Don Juan taught Castaneda five pivotal movements that shift energy and open portals to other dimensions.

The woman who is the protagonist, Brit Marling, starred in one of my favorite movies, Another Earth, and was the co-creator and writer for the show. It’s difficult to describe this show because it is multidimensional, shamanic, surreal in many ways.

But here’s the premise: Prairie (Marling) was a Russian kid adopted by American parents, went blind, and disappeared while she was in high school. She ended up in a basement for seven years, the victim of a psychopath physician who is studying NDEs. And then she escaped.

I can’t describe the show beyond this. It’s tricky, slick,  well-acted, and deals with ideas that encompass quantum physics, entanglement theory, synchronicity, the Multiple Worlds theory (the movie Sliding Doors), and shamanic practices. Give it a try.


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Copper and the Rainbow


One day in 2007, our neighbor, Annette, brought home an orange tabby kitten she named Copper. That’s him in the fountain. About a week later, she brought us an orange tabby kitten that she’d found somewhere. We named him Simba.


Copper had copper colored eyes and Simba’s are green. Otherwise, they were hard to tell apart, particularly at dusk or when one of them darted into the house in search of catnip or treats. Or if were laying on the floor together.


Over the years, Copper dropped by frequently for visits. He knew we always have catnip and treats. Quite often, Simba and Copper were on our front porch, sunning themselves together, and when I came out, they would indulge in catnip and treats like a couple of siblings. What can I say, these enjoyed getting high together.

Copper was accepting of everyone. He wasn’t ever afraid of Noah, who is many times his size, or of Megan’s dog, Nika. And he lived with two dogs. Whenever Annette and her family go away for vacations or a long weekend, I take care of her animals – and vice versa. Copper usually followed me out the door when I left and then would come over to our place to visit. His roaming area was the yards of our two houses, which are side by side.

This afternoon, Rob was coming home from Publix and saw a bunch of kids on bikes by the side of the road, across the street from Annette’s house. She was just coming out her front door. He knew something had happened, but couldn’t see anything because the kids blocked his view. He came hurrying into the house and shouted, “I think something happened to Copper.”

I ran outside and saw Annette on her knees on the grass, sobbing hysterically and huddled over Copper’s body. I raced over to her and started crying, too. His body was still warm, so it had happened within the last several minutes. Annette picked him up, cradling him like a baby, both of us weeping, and we walked across the street to her place and went into her bedroom.

She sat in a rocking chair with Copper’s body in her lap, and I hurried into her utility room for a towel. Megan, who is home for the holidays, came over and we rifled through gift boxes for one in which Copper could be buried. We found one and when Annette set him inside it, I sprinkled catnip over it.

There is something so terribly raw and painful about losing a beloved pet this way. But awhile later, I was taking the dogs to the dog park and saw the most incredible rainbow and snapped a photo of it.


I called Annette and told her to hurry outside to see it. Megan and Rob were on their way to the garage to pick  up her car and she took a picture of it, too, and texted it to Annette: Copper is saying hi! That rainbow symbolized hope.

 This evening, Annette came by and asked if it would be okay if they buried Copper between our two houses. We decided on a spot under the tree he used to climb to get to our roof.Here he is, doing cat-aerobics!


Other neighbors turned out to help dig the grave and to say their good-byes.

RIP, Copper. You are already missed!

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