Turquoise and the Seer November 9, 2009
Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , trackbackTalking of brick walls and hitting my head against them; I went to see a card reader to find out my future. Yes indeed, “come in spinner”, once again.
I went to the Mind-Body- Spirit Festival in Sydney last weekend and sought out a reader to reassure myself that this latest idea I have of taking a sabatical overseas for a year isn’t crazy. Of course it’s crazy but I’m addicted to finding the perfect psychic.
I do this – simply to validate what is already in my head. I do this on the understanding that if someone “out there” can see what I’m seeing then it just might be an event in the future which I’ve somehow tapped into.
Of course, it’s just as likely that those images in my head are somehow able to be “read” by a sensitive individual, who can tap into another’s conscious thoughts. I don’t know how it happens, nor do Iwant to find out. But I do remember reading that psychotics have this ability as well. Sort of a 6th, 7th or ? sense.
My search for the perfect psychic is a compulsive disorder. It holds a strange appeal, like a circus or carnival does; or fantasing that my lotto numbers will come in. The process makes makes me feel there’s a script already written on my life which a select few can scan and download.
I’ve not gone to this particular festival for some time, simply because I’d outgrown it. There are way too many auric cleansings and sprit guides – who all magically appear in pastel crayon on colour paper - for my liking. And of course whilst you fork out $80 to have some woman draw up an exotic (never ugly) handmaiden with wings and swirls, and stars and tiny golden budda statues, anyone would wonder why it doesn’t look like yourself, or your next door neighbour or the guy at the local club? Why is it invariably a Red Indian spirit guide with a big drum and a medicine stick? Or some cute oriental lass with a candle. Can someone tell me?
So along with other hopefuls, I queued outside the card reading stall – prepared to fork out 40 bucks for 30 minutes of diving insight from a complete stranger. Chosen because she had a nice face and she was free in time for me to make Yum cha with my friends. Sure I can fit in the future before lunch. Might whet the appetitie.
A delightful woman greeted me as I sat down in Row D number 7, she a nice warm face, an appropriate collection of crystals, decks of cards, a few angel statues – you know the drill.
Of course she told me everything I’d heard only 2 months prior from my regular psychic. The poor darling guessing along with the best of them, tapping into some all knowing RSS Feed of my future happiness. Mind you she was on the same feed as the previous psychic, so al lI had to do was validate with a rapid-fire “yes, I know that…..next…”. That of course is the down-side of going to psychics multiple times. If they’re good – you just hear the same stuff again.
When she ran out of news to tell me threw in…” so what’s with the little white fluffy dog”? Normally I’d have said – who knows, dog shmog? The problem was that I had seen the dog myself that morning in meditation. My response, quite appropriately was, ”Well don’t ask me – “that’s why I’m paying you!!”.
Now as I’m thinking of heading off to Europe for time out – painting and volunteering or working for board and food on some organic farm in France or Italy, I didn’t want questions – I wanted clear reassurance. 15 minutes in, she threw open to questions. Of course I asked her if she could see anything relating to the immediate future.
Quick as a flash she asks”Do you travel for your work? I see lots of colour, painting and Italy” “Are you buying a new car” Not a bad scan of my current secret fantasy, and the 2 hours I had spent that morning reasearching whether to buy or lease a vehicle overseas.
So for $40 I got a fabulous future. All planned the way I wanted. And of course I got the obligatory old Indian guide with a big drum and a winning smile. I also got a relationship thrown in. The only lead I had was that it would be someone with lovely hands who creates things, in Canada and who wears a turquoise ring and probably comes from a different race. So my future is with a Mexican or Indian carpenter or builder. OK I can work with that.
What is it that we need to go outside of ourselves to get the validation for some serious thinking and work only we can do for ourselves inside! Sigh.
By all accounts I’ll be some new age old witch with an Indian lover living in Canada chanting about the rising moon…
God only knows why I continue to ask..bring it on I say :)
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