Recollection (two)

And, trusts them.

She swung a few more tiimes, each time looking at me for aproval of her effort, and smiling. Which of course I gave her. Then, she asked me if I wanted to pitch!

Trust!! She didn’t know me from anyone else there. But we had a common bond, and I had smiled, so she knew she could trust me. And maybe thats my point – she KNEW she could trust me. The little intuit knew, the stinker! Thats why I am such a sucker sometimes!

Okay, so let me tie this back in. On the Final Destination DVD last night, they had a documentary short, about a …about a psychic, basically. It was a woman who does police work – missing person, etc, cases – in California.

The documentary is basically her story, and shows some documentation about her story as she tells it. She had visions as a child, then once while watching a missing person story on the news, she had a clear vision of the victim, from the victims’ viewpoint, during the events immediately before the victim’s demise.

She saw the victim’s killers, and knew – thru her vision – their relationship to the victim.

She stewed and eventually told the police, helping them solve it. And she’s been doing it ever since.

BUT – she has 3 kids of her own, and two of them are similarly gifted. Moreover, she has put together a program that teaches children about safety from strangers and whatnot. Also, she counsels with other psychics who seek her out. Mentors them.

My point is this: what if.. maybe I should develop a mentoring program for the young intuits. Teach them about their intuitive skill. I’m not talking about training a bunch of psychic kids, I’m talking about teaching temperment differences and self-observation to young people as I discover we have the same bond.

*shrug* Its something thats been in the back of my mind.

Wonderful weather today, tonight. Yypical of the best for this region, this time of year. I went bike riding tonight. Rode a ride pattern I havent done since spring. It takes me into the northern part of The City, which is older, and quieter. At once safer and more dangerous.

Part of the ride pattern takes me around the light industry of the riverfront, and the intrigue and hazard of our Rescue Mission. This is an area where people are mugged, and there is petty theft. The police buzz through the area constantly, but have little effect. This community has been this way for decades, and its pretty much a comfort pattern.

I ride there for the minor thrill. Also because I like the industrial structure. I like the elevator, with the stark lighting against the dark of the water. I like the trains.. I love the trains! *g* I like riding through the railyards, stopping at a busy line and waiting for trains to go by….

…but the other part of my ride wanders (okay, its a pattern) through the quiet neighborhoods. These are all but forgotten sections of the city, which is fine by them. They have a slower pace. They all know each other and look out for each other. I feel very safe there, even as I ride past two police crusiers on a take-down.

But the reason I rode there tonight – it evokes memories of Trynity. When last I rode here, it all came sweeping back. i remember then saying in my self-speak how she was everywhere in this City for me. There was nothing that didn’t register of her. I thought that odd then, and charming. But odd, that I should see her, be reminded of her, in this part of town.

I don’t know that we ever drove through that part of town, save when she went to buy her darkroom sink, and I went to help. The store is on the edge of this neighborhood, and I didn’t drive into it to get to the store. Plus, she was already loaded up when I got there. We hollered between vehicle windows, and I followed her home.

So why then did it evoke such a memory?

And I didn’t ride there again. All summer.

Not that I had time to.

So tonight, i went back. This time, seeking that quiet connection to my absent friend.

And she was still there. Kinda. But it was more “us”; that is, it was partly her, and partly “my” neighborhood. (see the journal entry on possesing property). I’ve been on my own? long enough, that I am remapping things for myself – I think.

I don’t know what to make of that. Part of me cheers at the strength and growth that it shows.

But part of me grieves, as something unique and precious fades.

It was a thoughtful ride.