And I’m not talking about Transformers.
This weekend, I reconnected with some old friends. We hadn’t seen them in nearly a decade. Their retreating into being hermits sort of coincided with some weird growing pains I had going on in my late 20s/early 30s. Long story. Anyway, a couple of years ago, I woke up from a dream that the female half of the couple had died, and immediately called to see if she was ok. I talked to her husband who said, yes, everything was fine, but thank you for calling.
I didn’t hear from them until a couple weeks ago.
It seems that a few weeks after I called, she decided to go in to the doctor’s, just in case. She wound up having a quintuple bypass and being very lucky that she’d gone in and done it then. As she hadn’t had a heart attack, her heart was undamaged and with the renewed blood flow to her heart, she should be fine for a long time to come.
And shit like that is why, though I am skeptical about a bunch of stuff, I just cannot bring myself to write off a lot of “woo.” Because it’s asking me to write off my own experiences of life, and take it on faith that those things I’ve experienced have no basis in reality.