Ghosts wandered around the house, seen through the corner of his eyes moving like blurs, neither hiding nor shy, all in a natural motion, passing from one shadow into another.
But the compassionate man had not come to see the psychic for this reason. He had no trouble with the specters in his life. The dead were not his problem. His problem was that he felt he was too compassionate toward the living, and he wondered if there was anything in a past life to give reason for this particular element that had risen only recently shortly after his 27th birthday.
“What is it that you feel?” the psychic wanted to know. She was a middle-aged woman with a first-rate reputation behind her.
“I see the pain and struggle of a person or animal and it just chokes me up,” said the man. “An overflowing amount of empathy takes hold of me and I can’t seem to shake it off. I see the cockroaches on my counter struggling to get something to eat and I feel a load of sorrow for them. I get all maudlin and tear up.”
He went on to explain that he kept a clean house and the roaches that were there had been there before he arrived. In order to keep the population down, he bagged all his scraps before discarding them and made sure no dishes piled up in the sink.
“Roaches are survivors,” said the psychic. “They can survive on almost nothing at all.”
“But I see them limping along and I can almost hear their stomachs growling. I see the small ones following after the big ones like children following their parents and my heart just breaks for them.”
“How do you feel about people?” asked the psychic.
“I am just as heartbroken about people in hard straits, but maybe not as much as I am about animals.”
“–And bugs?”
“Some bugs. For instance, spiders don't bother me too much. I don't feel a lot for them. It's mostly the bugs I have to live with. Like the cockroaches. But even though I feel for them, I know I cannot give in and treat them like pets. It would be self-defeating.”
“Where do you think I can help?” said the psychic.
“I hear that some people experience in a present life what may have its inception in a past existence, such as illnesses and psychological problems. Maybe you can pinpoint where this may have started in a past life.”
The psychic asked him for a personal item that she could hold while fixing on its vibration. He took a ring off his finger and handed it to her. She clutched it in her hand and closed her eyes.
She began talking, keeping her eyes closed. Holding the man’s ring in her palms, it looked as if she were praying as her lips moved, explaining her vision to him:
During a time of war in northern China sometime during the 1400s, the man had been a member of a ruling family, and when opposing forces came in to occupy the land, they took him prisoner and put him in a wooden cage where he witnessed his family and members of his tribe butchered and eaten in his presence. The bones of these unfortunate ones were tossed into his cage and he could eat what flesh was left of them if he so wished. He really had no choice because it was all he was given to eat. The siege had occurred a week or so after he had celebrated his 27th birthday.
When she finished, she asked, “Did that resonate with you at all?”
“Not really,” said the man. “I’ve never had close feelings toward China, now or ever. I’ve never had any bad feelings about it either. It was just never really part of my life.”
“Come back in a week,” the psychic said. “We’ll see if anything changes.”
A week later, the man returned.
“Has anything changed?” the psychic wanted to know.
“Things have improved,” the man said. “I don’t get as maudlin as before.”
He went on to say that he didn’t feel as guilty when he washed the roaches down the kitchen sink, believing he was sending them to a better place.
“But,” he said, “I still feel bad for them.”
“Do you think our session helped you?”
“I believe it did, yes,” he said. “But something else has come up.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“I’ve been having dreams every night that the world is going to end soon.”
“In any particular way?” the psychic wanted to know. “After all, there are many different dangers lurking out there. Wars are popping up everywhere it seems, with nuclear war at the top of the list. Then there are the weather changes that are becoming more bizarre. And, of course, super volcanos that are overdue to go off; not to mention rogue viruses and drug-resistant germs. Then there are sun flares as well as incoming asteroids. So you see, there’s a smorgasbord of possibilities.”
“In my dream, there is no indication as to how it comes to an end,” said the man. “The world is just empty, void of life. Dogs, birds, people. All gone. In my dream, I just know that the world is basically dead.”
“What do you think it means?’ said the psychic.
“I don’t know,” said the man. “I was hoping you could help me answer that.”
“I’m psychic,” said the woman. “Not God. Just because I know a thing or two doesn’t mean I know everything.”
“Don’t you ever get feelings of impending doom?”
“Sure,” said the psychic. “But I’ve learned to brush them aside. There are trillions of galaxies out there. One insignificant blue planet is not going to make a whole lot of difference in the great scheme of things one way or another. Just keep this in mind whenever you start thinking about the end of the world—you are an immortal soul and no matter what happens to the earth, there are plenty of places to relocate to in the universe if things get too sticky down here.”
“You really believe that?”
“You will too, in time. Sooner or later you’re going to outgrow that meat suit of yours. When that happens, the truth will be staring you in the face.”
She began talking, keeping her eyes closed. Holding the man’s ring in her palms, it looked as if she were praying as her lips moved, explaining her vision to him:
During a time of war in northern China sometime during the 1400s, the man had been a member of a ruling family, and when opposing forces came in to occupy the land, they took him prisoner and put him in a wooden cage where he witnessed his family and members of his tribe butchered and eaten in his presence. The bones of these unfortunate ones were tossed into his cage and he could eat what flesh was left of them if he so wished. He really had no choice because it was all he was given to eat. The siege had occurred a week or so after he had celebrated his 27th birthday.
When she finished, she asked, “Did that resonate with you at all?”
“Not really,” said the man. “I’ve never had close feelings toward China, now or ever. I’ve never had any bad feelings about it either. It was just never really part of my life.”
“Come back in a week,” the psychic said. “We’ll see if anything changes.”
A week later, the man returned.
“Has anything changed?” the psychic wanted to know.
“Things have improved,” the man said. “I don’t get as maudlin as before.”
He went on to say that he didn’t feel as guilty when he washed the roaches down the kitchen sink, believing he was sending them to a better place.
“But,” he said, “I still feel bad for them.”
“Do you think our session helped you?”
“I believe it did, yes,” he said. “But something else has come up.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“I’ve been having dreams every night that the world is going to end soon.”
“In any particular way?” the psychic wanted to know. “After all, there are many different dangers lurking out there. Wars are popping up everywhere it seems, with nuclear war at the top of the list. Then there are the weather changes that are becoming more bizarre. And, of course, super volcanos that are overdue to go off; not to mention rogue viruses and drug-resistant germs. Then there are sun flares as well as incoming asteroids. So you see, there’s a smorgasbord of possibilities.”
“In my dream, there is no indication as to how it comes to an end,” said the man. “The world is just empty, void of life. Dogs, birds, people. All gone. In my dream, I just know that the world is basically dead.”
“What do you think it means?’ said the psychic.
“I don’t know,” said the man. “I was hoping you could help me answer that.”
“I’m psychic,” said the woman. “Not God. Just because I know a thing or two doesn’t mean I know everything.”
“Don’t you ever get feelings of impending doom?”
“Sure,” said the psychic. “But I’ve learned to brush them aside. There are trillions of galaxies out there. One insignificant blue planet is not going to make a whole lot of difference in the great scheme of things one way or another. Just keep this in mind whenever you start thinking about the end of the world—you are an immortal soul and no matter what happens to the earth, there are plenty of places to relocate to in the universe if things get too sticky down here.”
“You really believe that?”
“You will too, in time. Sooner or later you’re going to outgrow that meat suit of yours. When that happens, the truth will be staring you in the face.”