It is 2:16 in the early morning on September 16^th, the day after my birthday, which was great this year. I went to do the Hour of Hope in Livengrin, then out to lunch with my friend Linda, then home to find more cards and gifts.

At 5 pm my son Daniel, his wife Wendy and son Aidan visited with more presents! It seems that this year the entire month of September is my birthday.

Strange but delightful.

I have always been cautious about the content of this blog. My friends know this about me. I just wondered if it was too personal, so I preface this blog post to explain my state of mind.

Ready for bed, I just went into my office to check on some article, sat down at the computer and here I am again. I have written seven blog post called Sleepless in North Wales, but this was different. I experienced a lot of energy and worked on a programme for next Sunday –  so that’s complete!

I decided to ask Google, “What is the name of a night person?” The first result I saw was “Night Owl”, which describes my situation. First of all, I love owls. They fascinate me so I became one apparently.

As I mentioned in another article, I love the dark. It’s when my spirit takes off and I get messages from people who are no longer on this planet. It’s called automatic writing. I’ve taught it and used it quite often in the past.

Preferring the dark has always been a mystery to me. I know partly it was when I felt safest as a child during the bombs and the “ack-ack” sound of guns, because when it became very dark, the planes would leave, and peace would reign until the next day. It’s challenging to explain and perhaps those of you who read my articles can shed some light on it. That’s a weird thing to say. The darkness shed a light on it! I am interested in hearing from people who do the same thing; who feel more productive at night.

I have writer’s block on occasion, not because I have nothing to write, but the fact is, I have too much to write about.

I  also  have a grasshopper brain, which goes in all directions as some of you who have heard me speak, have observed. I know why that happens. I rarely prepare anything when keynoting or even training. I can’t explain it either!  This is why I can’t do a Ted Talk, although I have been invited, because there is a lot of preparation, practicing, and being coached. That’s not for me.

I am what they call in England “off the cuff”, meaning I just speak. Once I had notes and it was a disaster. I kept worrying that I might forget something. Very strange.

Years ago, I made some CDs for relaxation, others for self-worth, and a whole set of 12 Steps For Adult Children. I went into the studio without any preparation and recorded freely. It’s not that is a special skill. It’s just the way my brain works. Anybody else do that?

So here is the question I have for you. I want to change my profession. You might be thinking, at your age? The answer is yes, at my age. Let me tell you a story.

I might have already done so in some small measure, but it is pertinent in this case. It is something that happened that stayed with me for years and is making all kinds of noises in my  brain and my heart.

When I was ten years old, the bombing was at its fiercest. Night and day.

After a  bad night,  I finally was able to go to bed, falling asleep immediately. Suddenly, I felt someone pulling my toes and I woke up.

It was my cousin, Lawrence, who was my protector, and I thought of  him as my big brother. I know I have mentioned him in the past. Bear with me.

I sat up and asked, “What are you doing here?”

He said, “You know I am a dispatch rider (he was in the Royal Air Force), and I am going on a dangerous mission, so I wanted to say goodbye as I won’t see you for a while. Now be good to your mother (every ten  year old wants to hear that!) You don’t know it Yvonne, but you are a very special child, and I love  you.” He gave me a kiss and off he went. I fell asleep immediately.

When I woke up the next morning, I went downstairs to find several of my mother’s siblings. It was eight in the morning. They were all talking over each other and crying. I asked what had happened and they said Lawrence was dead. He had been murdered apparently at about midnight. I said, “No, that’s wrong. He came to see me at that time, and we talked.”

One of my most disliked aunts said, “There you go again, always wanting to be the centre of attention. Stop with your lies. You are upsetting everyone.”

From that time on, I shut down and if I ever felt anything psycho – normal again, I squelched it. Lawrence was killed just before his twenty first birthday and to this day, if I am perplexed about a situation, or even deeply grieving, I feel my toes being tweaked during the night.

Years later, messages began to creep into my brain.

For instance, I knew what was going to happen to President Nixon way before Watergate.  I have received messages from relatives of some of my patients and they all make sense to those who are grieving for their loved ones. It’s all very accurate.

It doesn’t bother me anymore. I’m just curious. These messages don’t come on demand. They just start………………at night. Again, with the darkness. The son of one of my patients always starts around 2 am. He wakes me and starts talking so I have to write fast. I’ve never been worried about this. I’ve been asked to go to homes and cleanse them as I can feel a certain energy when I enter a building. I’ve never really been curious about it. I just do it.

These are some of the people who have caused this automatic writing. This  young man, my grandmother, angels, my late husband, John, relatives of some of my students. Dr. Viktor Frankl, Sir Thomas Moore. One of the strongest influences was Mother Theresa. She still is and her statement that I constantly keep with me is, “You cannot do what I can do, and I can’t do what you do, but together we can make a difference.”

I know a lot of people who can relate to that and in fact are doing just that.

These days I am in complete control of my faculties and am not worried about this at all. I am dithering as to whether I could make a profession out of it. I do read tarot cards and angel cards. I love it.

Now I do realise that I could be facing ageism in this! Oh goodness, is she losing it? Actually, I was tested by a doctor who said, “You really do have all your marbles, don’t you?” There are some of my professions I will never stop. I will always work with bereaved parents, Veterans and cancer patients. Sometimes this takes a toll on me and so I am looking at perhaps how this could be a balance.

I really want to know if any of you experience this kind of thing. It all began this time, with the night owl thing. I just love the sound of  it. I just consulted the Oxford English Reference Dictionary on OWL. Here’s what they wrote:

“A nocturnal bird of prey with large eyes and a crooked beak. A person compared to an owl in looking solemn and wise. There are several species. The barn owl: the Tawny owl: eagle owls: snowy owls: little owls.”

There’s quite a long commentary on them. I don’t know. The description doesn’t really fit me but the idea of being compared to such a regal creature is rather flattering!

I was on the radio for eighteen years and developed the skill of listening. I can tell by the tone of a voice whether someone is being honest or not. For example, a woman phoned me Saturday about a programme of some sort. I asked her how she was, and she said she was fine. This is the ‘f’ word I do not like. There was no way she was ‘fine,’ and I asked her if there was something that wasn’t fine. Her daughter was very ill, and she had no one around to talk with. So, I listened for a while and then made several suggestions about support groups. There are so many out there and especially if the condition is cancer. For example, Gilda’s Club isn’t a treatment place.  It is an incredible support programme with all kinds of services. I have a group there too.

When I consider my current work, I listen. I would say 90% of my work is listening. I know what these parents want. They want their child back. I know I can’t do that, so I listen. I get it.  I am rather excited about this so we shall see.

I am good witch. I even have a hat and the broom! It’s fun really. I suppose I am somewhat eccentric. I love my energy. Even with all the constant pain I have in my back, life has suddenly taken on a whole new meaning. The last card John ever gave me before he died said, “DO NOT FOLLOW THE PATH. BLAZE A NEW TRAIL.” Do you think he knew something at that important time in his life just before he went into at-home Hospice? I tend to think so.

The main thing I have noticed is that my humour has grown. I am really very funny. That any tolerance I had with “stupid” no longer exists. I am verbally “fast on my feet”, my boundaries are in place, and I am looking to the future instead of being stuck in the past. This only happened two days ago.

Do I have “days”? You bet I do and that’s the beauty of all this. I can share that with people who are worried about their feelings. We talk about life being a roller coaster and we all know what that is. The one I am referring to is an emotional roller coaster and most of us are familiar with it, or on it. I am. It is important to me that I can recognise I am not Dr. Sunshine all the time and that is perfectly normal or as close to normal as I will ever be.

Be well and conquer.