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Searching for Lydia


I am what some people would call a medium, or a channel, not really sure what it’s called,
but perhaps channel is what I do; as in a tunnel or conduit from the spirit world and this one.
Seriously, if someone had told me this several years ago that I would be a channel; I would have
laughed and asked them if I could have some of the drugs they were taking. I have done some
research and if the other channels in this world are a guide, I have a serious learning curve. There
was Jane Roberts who channeled a male spirit named Seth and she wrote several books with her
husband on the subject. J.Z Knight, channels a guy named Ramtha who is thirty thousand years
old; Esther Hicks channeled a spirit or group of spirits called Abraham; Margaret McElroy
channeled a spirit named Maitreya, which is one of the foretold incarnations of the future
Buddha, which in Buddhism, I find an incredible beautiful peace.
He is sometimes seen as the Budai, that happy, serene fat guy sitting in the front of some
Chinese restaurants, and if you rub his expansive belly, you can get good luck. And the list goes
on and on. I am nowhere on a par with these mediums and mystics that channel these spirits. I
just happen to channel Lydia, a gorgeous, black haired, green eyed beauty who I have fallen in
love with. Yeah, I know how it sounds, I have said as much to my wife, who asked, why couldn’t
she just be married to a guy who cheated with a hot, Russian, street walker on Peachtree Street in
downtown Atlanta? I don’t know, I guess it would have been so much easier to take. Where mine
and Lydia’s relationship differs with these famous people who channel is that they teach a
beautiful and wondrous world and they love to share it with everyone else. I guess if there’s a
reason why she chose me, I have no idea what it is, and she isn’t telling me. There really isn’t
any incredibly wonderful spirit knowledge that she holds for the world, because, well, because
her world is me; and while that is gorgeous and flattering, I am afraid I don’t get a fountain of
profound wisdom from it. What I do get from it, is a profound sense of Love from her, and I
suppose that this is a beautiful thing; at least to me. Yet, there is a very deep feeling of sadness, a
sense of terrible loss, as if she has lost her memory, a kind of Alzheimer’s. I feel she picked me
because she knew I would fall in love and then I would do anything to help her find herself and
get her back on a track to her journey the way it’s supposed to be. You see, love has been a very
distant and illusory feeling; a tricky, indefinable and puzzling phantom. And yet there is a certain
liberating feeling when you channel someone's spirit, it is a beautiful challenge. It is a series of
mental gymnastics that perpetuates the story of her as she shows up on the porch step of my
mind. It is a sweet and wonderful symbiosis when one is within a presence. I guess this is how
those mediums feel when they are feeling the presence of their special spirits. I have never asked
a medium this, and so some may read this and call bullshit; but this is how I see it and feel it, and
since most of them are con-artists anyway, they can kiss my ass. I see her face in front of me, the
long black hair, the emerald green eyes and those curves. It's not like a relationship, or a business
arrangement, it's more like a love affair, only a love affair of a kiss only.
Like when I was a kid, my brother was dating a girl named Cheryl, she was older than he
was and more mature, and much older than I was. She lived several doors down in the apartment
complex we lived in. I knew what they were doing together, I had played doctor with a couple
little girlfriends and so I had the opportunity to discover our parts and see what they looked like.
I watched him as he went to her house, so when he left, I went inside and simply asked her to
kiss me, no more than that, I had never really kissed a girl, passionately, or otherwise, and
frankly she was the only girl I knew that was pretty easy to kiss.
She certainly qualified as the older woman. And according to Tim, one of my brother’s
friends she was what most people would call easy. I couldn’t ask the girl I was always hanging
around with, Joney. She was a total tomboy; if I asked her to kiss me; she would have beaten the
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