Psychic Telephone · 38
Adrienne
(Not sure what Psychic Telephone is all about? Check out our first and second posts for an introduction to the project.)
Adrienne says there was a time, in her early twenties, when her intuition seemed to really blossom. She had a series of experiences of awakening, like a spiritual awakening—a sense of receptivity to psychic phenomena getting turned on. She had moved to Santa Fe and had started practicing yoga more seriously, with different practitioners, and she was learning about chakra systems and meditation and was getting into the culture of New Ageism. She was beginning to build a sense of having a spiritual body, of being plugged into this energetic field that sort of exists between and around and within all of us. And she was coming to see the energy in that field as information that, like a language, you can interpret.
One night during that time, at a hot spring just outside Taos, she met her first husband. He barely spoke English back then. He had just moved to the States from France and was only in the area for a wedding. But they bonded immediately, deeply. And they wondered: What was this? How does this happen to two people? What was going on, to be so connected, so quickly? These two kids in love so suddenly, all at once, never wanting to be apart. Like, how does that even make sense?
But they were in sync in some powerful way. They had many experiences together where she felt like they had almost a synergistic effect on each other, by way of psychic phenomena. They could lie in bed and conjure the same vision in their minds, jointly, finishing each other’s sentences and filling in the gaps, like each could see what the other saw without having been told. Like they had some sort of psychic connection where they could read each other’s minds. She doesn’t know if that’s a true psychic phenomenon or not, but it felt uncanny, inexplicable.
In one vision there was a lady and a monk, in a medieval courtyard, somewhere like Prague. It would start for instance with Adrienne sharing some images: a castle, high walls and mottled gray stone. And she felt that she was the lady, maybe a princess, looking down past a railing on the second floor. Dressed in a gown, with long curly hair, fuming and storming about, fiery and frustrated. Because she was in love with the monk, trapped by rules, unable to be with him.
And as she described this, he would complete the picture, saying for instance, a deep blue, jewel-toned dress. And then he would describe the vision from down below, feeling himself as the monk in the courtyard—a Catholic monk, with the brown smock and a rope tied around his waist. Walking in a slow cadence, hands gently behind his back, head slightly bowed in contemplative thought. And he was burning with shame, he said, racked with religious guilt for loving her. And then she suddenly experienced the completeness of that too, as though she were the monk.
So the vision felt like a partial answer to their questions. They thought of it as a past-life experience, proof that they had once been prevented from being together, so that this union, whatever it was, was a long time coming. They considered it to be part of their spiritual journey together, something karmic, a soul contract that was still playing out. For them it explained why their bond felt so potent, so mind-blowing. It was a kind of origin story, one that explained their feelings, the sweetness of the space between them. And it cleansed a lot of their turbulence and discord when they could come back into that space. Their compatibility, the raw purity of what they felt, the energy that held them together—and even now, after twenty years apart, kind of still does.