Psychic Friends: Short Humor

Psychic Friends by Jonah Bergan

My Mother has a friend who is psychic. By this I mean that she claims to be psychic and is generally believed to be psychic. Under no circumstances do I mean to imply that she is in fact psychic. I do not have the scientific skills to affirm or the hubris necessary to deny this claim. I accept that she is psychic in the same way I will accept anything else any one wishes to self-declare. If you would like to be psychic, you may. I will not contest it.

From time to time she will tell me things that my spirit guides wish me to know. Once she told me that Sir Isaac Newton was one of my spirit guides. I have no idea what I was intended to do with this information. I also have no idea who the rest of my spirit guides may be. I suspect that Kukla, Fran and Ollie may be involved or perhaps one or two of the stooges but I have no proof of this. It is simply an opinion I have formed based on my own personal experiences.

Since they are guides, you'd think they'd introduce themselves or in some other way be more vocal for the express purpose of guiding me, but they never ever actually say anything to me directly. I can only conclude from their silence that the majority of my spirit guides are mimes. I imagine them acting out warnings in the ether as I bumble through this life.

Although I may wonder at the logic of assigning me guides who cannot or will not speak, or in the alternative, the wisdom of providing me guides whom I myself cannot see or hear, still apparently there they are, gesticulating wildly and invisibly climbing out of invisible boxes or leaning against invisible walls, and so on, all for the sole purpose of providing me with the guidance and wisdom I need to survive. I feel that this is wildly inefficient.

I believe very strongly that those of my spirit guides who are not mimes are laughing too hard to actually speak. I have proof of this. Recently, rather than giving me the numbers for an upcoming powerball drawing, they informed me that I should remain chaste. I was sitting alongside my Mother and among some of her friends enjoying a cup of coffee at the time they passed this little slice of hilarity along through my Mother's psychic friend.

When she proclaimed this, I flushed a deep shade of red and I was speechless, which like brevity, I am not known for. My Mother and her friends all glanced away, and some covered their mouths to hide their amusement. She, the psychic, did not know the word "Chaste," and asked if it meant anything to me. I assured her that it didn't. I assured her that I had no idea what they might mean by this. One of the women sitting nearby barked a laugh immediately trying to guise it as a cough.

If this is not proof that my spirit guides are pranksters then I don't know what is.

If I understand the concept of "Spirit Guides" correctly, these are former people now in soul-form, who gather around me, take note of my activities and in some way that I cannot fathom "help" me. Setting aside the mental image of this crowd of mimes crouching around me and pantomiming the use of an old fashioned crank-powered camera while I am sitting on the toilet, I am not certain what form this help takes.

Perhaps they stand sentry in a way. Perhaps they hold back the very worst of the suffering and indignity life has in-store for me until I am strong enough to bear it. Of course the only evidence I have that may support this concept is the fact that I am still here. Apparently they will only fail in their task once, and this failure will be one of overestimating. If they are at all perceptive, they would see that my life would be dramatically improved by a large and sudden flood of currency. If I am at all perceptive, then I would see that dramatically improving my life falls outside their job description.

It has been postulated that their job and in fact the purpose of our lives here on the physical plane is to prepare us for the after-life where perhaps among other things, we might be employed as spirit guides. I do not aspire to the job of waving urgently at someone who cannot see or hear me. I can only hope that this is the least attractive of the jobs available and that in some way they are helping me to qualify for some better form of eternal employment.

The End