Friday, August 3, 2012

The Peanut Gallery

The only scene I liked in the movie Practical Magic was when Sandra Bullock came out as a witch. (I figure that doesn't count as a spoiler since it was in the previews.) As for the rest of the movie, it was so completely opposite the book, which I loved, that I wish I hadn't seen it. But Sandra Bullock having to relent and say "I'm a witch" resonated with me.

Like what's-her-name who ran for office, I am not a witch. I'm an intuitive. (I prefer that to psychic because psychics are often portrayed as frauds and con artists. Also, too many people confuse psychic with all-knowing.) My intuition takes many forms and heavily influences my life. It is the sense I trust most. It also makes life complicated. Plenty of people don't believe in this stuff, which is fine because I may not believe in their stuff. Also, it can be intimidating because people think I can look at them and read their minds, which I can't, and even if I could, I wouldn't because it's unethical and, quite frankly, I have better things to do. Another challenge is that sometimes I make choices that make no sense even to me and I do them simply because the Peanut Gallery tells me to and I have learned to trust them.

This is how Wikipedia defines a peanut gallery: an audience that heckles the performer. The term originated in the days of vaudeville as a nickname for the cheapest (and ostensibly rowdiest) seats in the theater; the least expensive snack served at the theater would often be peanuts, which the patrons would sometimes throw at the performers on stage to show their disapproval. 

My habit of referring to the energies around me as the Peanut Gallery comes from a time when I was so sick that the walls between the worlds were incredibly thin and I was getting too much feedback from the other side. (I think I was trying to choose fabric or something.) Frustrated, I snapped, "No comments from the Peanut Gallery" and the name stuck. Some are guides, some are loved ones who have passed on. Some members of the Peanut Gallery appear to be permanent, others are with me for a time, and then move on. I cherish their support, ask frequently for their help, and almost always take their advice....and when I don't, I wish I had. 

Most of the time, I just sense them in my waking hours, but sometimes they send me messages in dreams. One member is an Australian aborigine. I'm still trying to get to know him. He's very reticent and I'm not allowed to tell his name. I'm quite sure, though, he was the one who sent me a recent dream. In it, I was judging a swimming race, which was strange as I don't swim and have no wish to hang around pools with a stopwatch. Nevertheless, there I was. I noticed that, along with the swimmers, there was a crocodile in the pool. I thought this was a very bad idea. In fact, I could practically see a red light flashing "danger." No one else seemed concerned. One person even said, "Yeah, we lose a swimmer now and then" in a rather matter-of-fact way. I woke up from the dream and knew it was a warning. Somewhere in my life, a circumstance would emerge, which other people would see as benign, but was really a threat. Within 48 hours, that "crocodile" surfaced, I recognized it, and knew how to handle it.

And then I thanked the Peanut Gallery.





1 comment:

  1. Very interesting dream. I've been having some crazy dreams lately that make no sense at all, and then sometimes they seem to have so much meaning. I like that you call them the peanut gallery, very fitting.

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