top of page
Diane's Detox...Let's Heal
February 2008 My First Psychic Adventure - Life after Life
Thursday morning, February 7, 2008, The Chinese New Year, The New Moon, Time for New Friendships I’d had a heavy heart for several days. Ok, Diane, time to pull your bootstraps up and get to work. It was up to me to get myself out of this depression and moping around the house wasn't doing anybody any good. I decided to finish unpacking the boxes from the motor home and the house in Georgia and really think about how to get my life back together. Well, it'll never be back together exactly the way it was. There was a big piece missing. My husband Red was still dead and unable to hang out in this earth plane.
Emptying boxes and putting up photographs around my home of Red, my deceased husband, had been very painful, but I wanted to see him and feel his presence. It made it almost like he wasn't really gone. I could smile and talk to him and see him on the walls. He'd never been on the wall here before. We hadn't displayed photographs of “us” in The Cypress House. This home on the Suwannee was purchased as an investment property, our rental home, our vacation home. We rented it out to vacationers and didn’t live here. We kept most of our belongings at our home in Georgia and traveled almost all the time. We went more places and did more things and had more fun than any couple I know.
Now I live in this home, by myself. No reason to keep traveling on the road without the musician, well, except to teach my practices in workshops occasionally. There simply isn't a lot of money in trying to heal the earth, so staying at home to teach locally and reflect on life is a good thing. At least I have the time to think and think and think about everything and nothing. Have to think about nothing more, relax and breathe.
It feels very, very strange to live in a home, especially alone. I know Red has started his life in eternity and I am working on starting a new life, and everything will be fine, excuse me, IS fine ! Yes, everything is fine. I have a roof over my head, some money in the safe deposit box and I am extremely employable when I need more. Everything is great. It just doesn't feel great.
I knew I was better off than most people I know, but for heavens sake, Universe, Red wasn't supposed to die so suddenly. This is tough stuff. Oh, nobody ever said it was going to be easy. Got it. I'd spent a few hours each day for the past week, looking at 9 years of photographic memories; pictures of when we met, of our kisses, of our lives and of all the fun we had together. Realizing we would never be together in this lifetime again had made me cry, over and over and over again. This is part of grieving. Remembering all the fun was painful. Remembering it was not always fun made it easier, sometimes.
All the time I was putting up these photographs I’ve been wondering whether it was a good idea to have him all over the walls. Am I torturing myself by looking at these photos and crying? Do I need to try to move on? These questions and more poured into my troubled head and then wondering where on earth I would find the answers, made it spin. Until I realized, there wasn't anyone who could answer these questions but me. Everyones' grieving process will have similar stages, but each of us walks a different path and noone can tell me what I need to know. I'll have to find out for myself.
I laughed as I hung one of my favorite photos. Red's on some stage in Key West - he played on them all, but this picture was taken during Fantasy Fest. I walked up to him with a rose in my hand and, while he was playing he took it from me and put it in his teeth. What an entertainer, never missed a beat !
I continued my morning, laughing and crying determined to finish decorating my wall around my brand new desk. The first thing I wanted to do upon my return from my New-England-Healing-Trip was to build something, anything and I needed a desk. Woodworkiing is one of my favorite forms of meditation. The boxes from the house in Georgia and the motor home in the Keys were slowly emptying and appearing on my walls.
"Ok, Universe, I'll watch for signs as to when you think the photos should come down." My eyesight is usually 20/20 when it comes to the important messages. When my vision gets blurry, The Universe will hit me in the head with a DVD to get my attention! Who was it the girls wanted me to meet? More than one person had told me I needed to stop in and meet a man who owned a trading post in Dixie County. Maybe today is the day. Last Sunday I was doing a Yoga Party at Kitty's home when she suggested I meet a good friend of hers. He owned a Trading Post/Hair Salon in Old Town right around the corner from my home. She predicted we would become great friends. I thought, “I don’t want to meet anyone new right now." I am not my usual, happy, carefree, Pollyanna-self. I listened to her directions half heartedly but I didn't need to locate his place, yet.
After teaching classes yesterday I drove past this guy's place and the sign jumped out at me; Trading Post and Hair Salon. Ok, now I know where it is. Been traveling past it for 2 years. Then on Tuesday, Dottie at Dixie County Music said the same thing. We started talking about doing yoga classes in Old Town and I mentioned Kitty had suggested a salon on Rt349. Dottie agreed, “Yes, that would be a perfect place for your classes. You should meet the owner of the Trading Post. You two are very like-minded individuals." Well, ok, so I’ll meet him. Maybe I just didn’t want to meet a man right now for fear of jumping into another relationship. I just want to be alone. I need to be alone. I have spent my entire adult life in relationships with men, with the exception of a year devoted completely to self-realization. I was on the way to an ashram when I met Red and didn't go on my journey. I needed time for me to pay attention to ME so I could figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
When I left the music store I slowed down and almost stopped at the Salon/Trading Post. I pulled up on the street in front of the store and then pulled away, around the corner and down the road to my house. Why in the world did I want to meet someone who cuts hair and has a trading post in this part of Florida? Much of Dixie County is about as “red-necked” as it gets, and I just couldn’t imagine what they had on their shelves. Probably stocked with fishing tackle, hunting knives and canning supplies. I think Kitty said the owner of the trading post had been involved with Hari Krishnas for over 20 years, so that intrigued me, but not enough to make me stop, not yet. And, come to think of it, a couple of years ago someone asked me if I had ever stopped in to see what that “trading post around the corner from my house” was all about. No, a couple of years ago I was working fulltime for a disabled vet and hardly had time to breathe. There was definitely no time to stop at a salon then.
Okay, if I can't stop thinking about something it's a pretty good indication, it's time. I'll stop and meet him on the way to teach yoga classes at The Center today. The new moon is a good time to start new things. Besides, I spent last night tossing and turning with very little sleep. Giving myself something “new and exciting” to focus on would help me get through the day. If I went on the way to class, I would have a great excuse for not being able too stay long. "Besides, I have a drum circle tonight. I wonder if he has drums for something like that," I thought as I continued cleaning the house, talking myself into needing a new drum for tonight. Then, it was time to teach my class. Time had gotten away from me, so I dashed out the door. I had not left enough time to stop at the Trading Post on the way to class. I wondered if I’d done that on purpose. OK, maybe I wasn’t meant to meet him today either. I would see how I felt after the class…but I probably wouldn’t drive all the way back to Old Town just to “maybe” meet him. His sign always said closed and I didn't have a phone number. Besides, gas prices are too high and my gas tank is nearly empty, again.
After my class, I went into the office at The Center to try to do some work but couldn’t get into the treatment room. Dr. Susan had a patient. I decided to make the dreaded trip to Walmart and get the Britta water filter I needed. The man was installing the water conditioner this morning so once I had the Britta filter to run it through, I wouldn’t have to buy bottled water any longer. This was something Red and I had wanted to do for some time. We promised not to run the credit cards up anymore, so we were going to wait for awhile. I was in and out of the store in about 10 minutes and realized, I was going to drive to Old Town, stop at the post office and then stop by the Hair Salon/Trading Post. I was going to do it today and get it over with, the urgency was beginning to make me wonder. Why did I need to meet him? Little did I know, I was going to get some answers to my questions and it would be the beginning of a new friendship.
I pulled up in front of the house/salon/trading post and saw the “Sorry, we are closed” sign on the fence and a man walking towards me from the porch. He was tall and attractive and he was talking on the phone. He said goodbye sweetheart to whomever he was talking to and my first thought was, oh, he has a girlfriend and then oh good, he has a girlfriend. I immediately apologized for interrupting his conversation. He said it was not a problem at all, he was just talking to his sister and that he could call her back. If I would wait for a minute, he would put the dog away and unlock the gate. His dog was beautiful, half wolf and half chow and the man called him Ghost. The man introduced himself and when I reached over the fence to shake his hand his dog showed how terrifyingly protective he was of his master.
He came back, unlocked his gate and invited me to come up and sit on his porch. He had 2 rocking chairs. He took the one with the folded towel on it and offered the other chair to me. The chair was very comfortable and so was I. He told me I had an incredibly powerful aura reaching way out away from my body. I had been told I had had a powerful aura before, but I couldn’t imagine, in my condition of low energy and intermittent sobs, heavy at times, that I could be shining very brightly or fathom what color my aura might have been. Not knowing what else to say, I thanked him. I told him I had stopped to see if he had any drums. I was looking for a drum to use for this evening’s drum circle. I had promised a couple of my yoga students I would host a New Moon and a Happy Chinese New Year Party tonight. I wanted to make an effort to get this new, and very important 12 year cycle started the right way. He asked me if I was Kitty’s friend? I said yes, and he said, “The tarot cards told me you would be here today”. He added he didn’t have any drums he could sell me but he would let me use his drum; his grandmother had gifted it to him. He then asked me how I was doing and I said, kind of ok. The loss of my husband in November had been very difficult. It seemed like it was just yesterday that he had died, but then it seemed like it had been years since I had seen him. I missed him. At this point, he shared the fact he was no stranger to loss. These past couple years; he had lost his father, his mother and his grandmother. We were sharing so much information I felt like I should have been writing it all down.
He said he had fallen to his knees, a couple of days ago, feeling stricken with grief from the multiple deaths in his life, and asked the Deities almost angrily, “Are you sadistic?” but then he took it back quickly, knowing that was not the case. I told him Red, my deceased soul mate and I had had a “love affair” like no other. It was passionate, loving, and long distance. The long distance was probably what had kept us together for so long. The life styles of traveling musicians who played in bars were not conducive to a happy home life.
He explained he had been an “empath” since he was 5 years old, that spirits came to him. He asked if he could tell me what he saw. I, having no idea what was coming next said, yes. You and your deceased husband have been together for many lifetimes. I see Egypt, India. Red and I always believed we had been soul mates through many lifetimes. We promised to be together forever, even after stepping through death's door. Then he said, “He came in with you. He is here now. Would you like me to tell you what he is saying?” “Yes” was my reply, but “OH, MY GOD, YES, HURRY,' was what I was thinking. "What does that mean?” he asked the air. Then he added, “Slow down, big fella.”
He looked at me and he started waving his hands and asking me what it all meant. I laughed when I realized, later that evening, he was most likely referring to me. When I am excited I talk with my hands and I occasionally talk too fast. It would overwhelm Red at times and he would bring it to my attention. I was learning to slow down, a little.
“He wants you to know he is sorry. He is sorry for what he put you through. He didn’t understand what you were trying to do. He understands now. He knows that everything you did was to help him.” He stopped and listened and then continued, “He is telling me to tell you to stop feeling guilty. This was all him, you did everything you could. He left this earth because he was tired. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t do what you asked him to do, what he knew he needed to do. He couldn’t stop the drinking.” “He says the drinking made him numb. He felt so much pain from his childhood. All he ever wanted was love but he felt all he got was pain and being shut out. Lots of arguments, lots of pain.” I sat there crying quietly, listening to this man tell me things Red wanted me to know, “He would not have stayed around as long if it hadn’t been for you, Diane. You made him happy, you kept him here longer than he had planned, he had considered taking his own life before, but he couldn’t while he had you.”
The empath stopped for a few moments while listening to the air and he smiled and continued, “I see a coffee cup, his big coffee cup. Whenever you want to talk to him, pour him a cup of coffee and sit at your table and talk; anytime you want to, but, coffee not tea.” Then he laughed and said, “He is really glad they don’t have that tea in eternity-you know, the tea you were always trying to get him to drink here. He hated that tea.” I laughed as I cried and listened. This new friend was telling me what my husband couldn’t tell me. He couldn’t tell me while he was alive, probably because he didn’t think I would listen and now he knows I would listen, but I can’t hear him. I believed this man could hear him plainly because he was saying things that made sense.
“He is saying you should have stopped here 2 days ago when he tried to get you to stop.” He was right, I had stopped on the road in front of this trading post on Tuesday, but couldn’t bring myself to drive up the driveway. He listened for a few more moments and continued, “I don’t know what this means but Red is telling me to tell you to remember the butterflies…and that you were always his butterfly and you always will be.” I remembered them well. While I was teaching my yoga class this morning I shared a story about Red to my students and as I was speaking, a beautiful yellow butterfly flew through the tent where we were sitting in lotus pose, exercising our hands. I had smiled and said to the girls, ”Breathe deeply and look at the beautiful butterfly…thank you God for butterflies.” A few minutes later, after our meditation, I was telling them something else about Red and another, or maybe the same, butterfly flew through the tent. I laughed and said, “Each time I talk about Red a butterfly appears, perhaps, he is sending them.”
This hairdresser/empath told me Red said he was going to be around for a long time and that, “You couldn’t pry this guy off with a crowbar.” That’s ok, I like having him around. In fact, the night before I met him I was talking to Red as though he were there and I said, “You know, if you could give me a sign you are here, that wouldn’t be so bad…OUCH”. My right knee and my right elbow both hurt simultaneously. “You can let me know you are here without hurting me!” I told the air, “You have to be nice, like the gentle miracles we experienced right after you died."
The owner of the Trading Post said Red and I would be together again, in the future, but not for a long time. Red likes it too well where he is now and I have a long life of healing others ahead of me. He went on to tell me that when Red and I were together in India, he ran away from me then and what I was trying to teach him, just like he ran away from me here in this lifetime, not wanting my help.
He described Red’s appearance as being surrounded by very bright white lights. He said he was at a very high vibration, he had a very powerful soul. I knew that to be true. He continued, “He is telling me to tell you the people are coming. Be patient, this is your place. This is your safe place.” At this point the hairdresser explained that every morning, about 4am he does his meditation to help bring good energy to Dixie County. It is needed here.
I asked him if I could ask him a question. “Yes, of course”, was his answer. “What should I do about the mountain property?” He waited for Red’s response and answered, “Keep it for a year, You will know what to do with it in a year.” Well, the probate will take that long before I could close on a sale anyway, so in the meantime, if we can raise enough interest in the Intentional Living Community, I just might be able to act on the visions I have had of the Pleaides Project, the 7 sisters coming together to build a place where we grow our own food, have our own water supply and can help each other grow old together. Time will tell.
He said he had questioned his cards when I showed up in them this morning. The cards had told him I would be here a couple of days ago, and I hadn’t materialized. But this morning the cards said I really would be there, today. He was right. Something in the universe made me drive all the way up from Chiefland to be there and I was glad I had allowed plenty of time to talk to this new friend. I wasn’t rushed. I had a couple of hours before I had to head back and teach my next class. He said Red was leaving now, but that he would be around.
The hairdresser/empath asked me what I was doing to help myself heal. I told him I was doing acupuncture and some Chinese herbs. I had also been given some Bach Flower Essence and I was using that each night on my heart chakra. He got up and said, “I have to get you some things-my drum for your circle tonight and some things HE wants you to have, he says you need them,” pointing at the air. He brought out the beautiful drum his grandmother had given him that I would use at my home to start this Chinese 12 year cycle off on the right foot. This is the year of the Earth Rat. New Moon, new year, new beginnings, new friends. He also gave me a “Peace Candle”, some lavender mineral salts, some “Peace Spray” and some white sage. He piled them up in my lap and asked me if I wanted a bag for everything. “That would be helpful, thank you,” I said and he added he was honored I had stopped to see him.
I was overwhelmed with so many feelings; gratitude, surprise, relaxation, anticipation, disbelief-no, actually BELIEF, definitely BELIEF. He walked out to my truck with me and said he would be taking my yoga class next week. That he was a beginner but that he knew how to breathe. I believed he probably knew how to breathe better than I did. After a good long hug he told me to let my light shine. He also told me to have a good yoga class and he would see me soon. I would have to tell him, the next time I see him, how incredibly perfect it was that my insanely jealous, deceased husband would lead me to a gloriously-gay-psychic who was opening up a spiritual center around the corner from my house. As I drove out of his yard I noticed, for the first time, the name of his store was Red River Trading Post.
The drum circle that night was absolutely incredible… Life, and apparently death, is getting more interesting by the moment. Blessings, Diane
I'm a paragraph. Click here to add your o
bottom of page