Copyright © 2011 by William R. Mistele. All rights reserved.


(It took me over a year to get my physical therapist to talk to me even though she was my OT for 17 sessions. That is par for the course with mermaid woman; it is dangerous for them to live among us. Here are my observations on today’s encounter.

  Just to be fair—you can not compare a human woman to a mermaid woman as if she is simply a different kind of human being.  But she is not a human being. She is a different species altogether.


The Exact Way To Tell When You Are With A Mermaid Woman


Once you know what to look for, it is impossible to miss.

   She is like the snow at the North Pole—it can sit there for ten thousand or ten million years and still remember the tropical forest that was once there—she is water: that nubile fertility of pure receptivity never disappears.

    It is in the way she receives your energy. There is no riptide pulling you to where you do not want to go; there is no undertow pulling you down so you have to struggle to keep your footing on solid ground; there is no tsunami pushing you back with that muddy, choppy tumbling of emotional jealousy or angry demanding. She has no ego, no fear; the desire to take from you never appears. It is impossible for her to feel neglected—she has no human needs; she already feels complete.

  When with her you feel like you are the sun and she is ice.  She willingly melts in the presence of your energy because that is the nature of her beauty. She gives freely without attachment to form or identity.

   You feel like you are the sun and she is the sea—without difficulty, she absorbs your heat (your desires, everything you can imagine or dream).  The warmth she radiates at night, her very being testifies to your presence in her life.      

   There is more.   

   When you are with her, you feel like she is a stream and that you are gravity--every single movement she makes is shaped by your presence.  Do not take my word on this. Observe a stream.  Memorize its sound, touch, scent, taste, and the way it feels as it flows around your body.  And then look at her face as you speak: there is not a trace of distraction. A streambed is not more a part of a stream—gentleness, tenderness, affection—there is a feeling of letting go into the flow--that the two of you have become one soul.

   She may look, talk, and act human, but I will tell you this: once you discover that this way of being exists, when you experience it again it is impossible to miss.

  In summary, her face has that grace, a gift to us like the North Atlantic Current.  There is the silent peace of the ocean trench; the warm sensuality of a wave breaking on a tropical beach; and the pristine purity of an iceberg breaking free from a glacial plain at the edge of the Arctic Sea. You may not be able to see or feel these things, but when you leave her presence you may well sense for the first time that you are only half alive.