Perhaps we are not psychic after all, she’d said, just hyperaware of patterns. Maybe, we’ve sat too long at the knee of trauma when were children where we learned to find the rhythm in chaos, counting the breaks between the thunder after the strike of lightning, 1-2-3. As with all the storms, it’s been hard to settle, counting threads like rosary or mala, asking for clarity from the gods, calculating the next move on the board, recognizing that we are being toyed with, looping the strings of the cat’s cradle over one another’s fingers. It all repeats.
A therapist recently said this to me - I didn't predict his death, I had only been a keen observer of the patterns of behavior of those around him and knew the harm that could come his way. It was the patterns I was seeing in my dreams, nothing more nothing less. This observation relieved a great deal of guilt I'd been carrying around for not being able to stop what I thought were premonitions that I could control.
Your piece reminded me once more of that. Thank you friend. <3 xoxo