This Psychic Life – Thoroughbred Horses – Lesson Learned

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by Angela D. Thomas

Retro-cogition, the ability to ‘see’ in the past, is what gives psychics and clairvoyants the means to touch upon past events. Like precognition (the ability to see in the future) it can come in the forms of retro-cognitive dreaming (which differs from normal dreaming), while awake, and even instantaneously. It is the latter that often surprised me in my younger years. Now, my retro-cognitive and precognitive experiences occur so often, they have become a comfort to me, and something I rely on. Most of the time, I keep quiet about what information I receive, unless I’m reading for a client, but it was not the case when I first began steadily receiving psychic messages.

Messages are not only psychic impressions, they can come by way of clairaudience (clear hearing, one aspect of clair abilities), strong ‘I know’ feelings, and even visuals. Let me just say that when I began experiencing visuals, I felt compelled to share them with whomever was around at the time. It took an unusual incident to teach me to keep my mouth shut.

Big Lesson #1
It’s the mid-1980s, New Orleans and I am sitting across a table from a man I’ll call H.H. We were meeting for lunch at a popular restaurant to discuss a property investment. At this time, I had not “come out” as a psychic, and really, I wouldn’t have given myself such a title. Things were happening to me on a psychic level, but I didn’t know enough to use it for my greater good. I was there sitting in front of an ‘angel’ investor, a man that my local banker connected me to.

We talked briefly about the property and the 2 million investment needed to get things going. H.H. suggested we eat lunch first before delving into the meat of the financial prospectus. All of the safe niceties were covered: people that we knew, our families, and the weather.

H.H., a short Italian-American which hailed originally from the New York City area, mentioned how much he missed the East Coast. No sooner than the words spilled from his mouth, I saw, in my mind, thoroughbred horses racing on a track. I dismissed it thinking it was my mind wandering from the conversation.

H.H. continued to speak, and again, the thoroughbred horses racing came into my head. Then I heard; clairaudiently, “I know about the horses.” Foolishly, I decided to share what I was getting. I told H.H. that I was seeing thoroughbred horses racing in my head, and then I repeated what I heard, “I know about the horses.”

As soon as I said it, the face of H.H. turned a deep red. He reacted violently. He shoved himself back from his chair, stood up, and began shouting a string of profanities at me. Many ‘F’ bombs were dropped in with words I couldn’t make out.

“Who sent you?!” he demanded. “You know about my horses? Myyy horses? H.H. was shaking while tossing his chair around. He would lunge towards me, and then back away.

The more I tried calming him down, the worse it got. I tried to explain that I was merely seeing it in my mind, and that I had heard a voice speaking about the horses.

Eventually, H.H. did calm down with the help of the restaurant manager and other men that stood nearby waiting to come to my rescue.

“They burned my horses alive!” H.H. yelled. He looked at me with hate. There was no way he believed my explanation. He thought I was sent under the guise of looking for an investor. I was under the impression that he was a haunted man always looking over his shoulder.

“You know they died the night before the big race. My poor horses,” he said as he was walking out of the restaurant.

I sat there stunned for the longest time before calling my banker friend and relaying the news. Naturally, he was upset and concerned that his friend, an investor, would suspect him of wrongdoing or collaborating with others who had harmed him in the past, and who may have had intentions of harming him in the future.

A big lesson was learned that day. Not all people welcome psychic information regardless of the intent or how it is delivered.

“Shhh,” I frequently tell myself. “Don’t say a word.”

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