a reply to: Retro~Burn
Hi there, I'm back. I've spent more time trying to figure out how to get this in one post and I've failed miserably at it, so if you are still
with me, you might have to hunt for the second part. Let's just see what happens...For the sake of getting to the point, imagine that this is an
excerpt from a book that you have opened at random:
After the break, we gathered again in the meeting room. The chairs were now rearranged into a large circle. Marilyn welcomed everyone back and
explained that before the break, we had paired up to do a one-on-one exercise in psychometry. Now we were going to see if we could do a group
exercise. She referred to a recent murder in a near by city and said, pointing to me, that we had a couple of items from the murder scene that would
be passed around and each participant was to be still and see what impressions they got from the item She added that we were to remain quiet until
each person was finished. The items were a small lady’s make-up compact and a small black bobby pin that I had taken from the scene. She handed the
first item to the person next to her and after they were finished with it, they passed it to the person to their left and received the second item,
which got passed on in the same fashion.
The group became very somber and I was a little afraid to be there because I felt I was completely out of my league. I wasn’t sure how to behave but
decided that they all knew we were just visitors so I didn’t need to worry. All I had to do was to pass on the items to the next person when they
came my way. This exercise took quite a long time, and everyone waited patiently and quietly. Once the first item came to me, I immediately passed it
on to the person on my left.
When the second item, the bobby pin, came my way, I went to pass it to that same person to my left, but he was still holding the compact, as if
silently praying over it, so I sat there holding the bobby pin while waiting for him to finish. I was trying to just stay still and not fidget, so I
became more focused than usual in trying to remain in a calm state. After some moments I felt a quick and sudden alarm and inwardly exclaimed, “Oh
my God! It’s got blood on it!” I almost instinctively dropped the bobby pin, but I was still in the residue of putting on a calm exterior. Without
moving, I tried to look at the bobby pin for any visible sign of blood and wasn’t sure, but it seemed there was a bit of gunk, if you will, sort of
stuck in the fold. I wondered about it but also thought it could be anything, as I had found it on a dirty floor of the apartment. I felt my heart
begin to pound a bit and was greatly relieved when the man next to me was ready to take this uncomfortable item away from me.
My part was over, and all I had to do was to maintain a poker face as the items worked their way around the 20 chairs or so. Once done, she invited an
open discussion on people’s impressions. She began with the person who had begun the chain and most said something or another. To be honest, I
don’t recall what anyone said because of a particular moment that was about to take place that shocked me and erased the rest of it.
When the discussion had worked its way to me, I felt embarrassed to have everyone’s eyes on me, but I just shrugged and said that I didn’t get
anything. My statement was politely accepted, even though I had surprised everyone with my accuracy of the earlier exercise before the break.
The conversation continued around the group and then settled onto a woman that was sitting directly across from me in the circle. She said that she
did not get anything off the compact, but when it came to the bobby pin, the impression she had was: “Oh my God! It’s got blood on it!” She was
visibly shaken from the experience and fortunately everyone’s eyes were now on her. They all wondered about why she had such a strong impression and
they sort of chatted amongst themselves but I wasn’t listening at that point. I was struggling with feeling confronted on the spot to either speak
up or remain silent.
I can’t fully explain why I had chosen to remain silent. Probably the honest answer was because I did not want everyone looking at me again the way
they had done earlier. But there was a deeper, instinctive feeling that this might become some sort of three ring circus of group excitement with
everyone’s impulsive and shallow impressions too quickly shared. What was racing through my own mind at the moment was a collision of questions:
“Does it indeed have blood on it or did you read my mind? If you read my mind, how did you do it? Would this have happened if your weren’t sitting
directly across from me; if you had been sitting in some other chair? Did I imagine something and then “impress my impression” onto the bobby pin?
Did you? Did I read your mind before you even had the thought?”
I had no answer to any of these questions and still don’t. Perhaps I did them a disservice by not sharing my own experience but I had seen how the
other “psychics” behaved at the crime scene and I just felt a need to distance myself while the subject was still simply an exercise in
edit on 6-2-2016 by ClownFish because: I've made a mess of trying to split up a post. Sorry.