I have this annoying habit [according to my husband] of continually bringing up something I want until he gives in. Like my last tattoo...he finally relented after weeks of my talking about it just to shut me up. (Yet he was the one who showed me the picture of the tattoo in the first place. He hasn't shown me any other cool tattoos since that time, and he made me promise going into the parlour it would be my LAST tattoo ever. Smart man.)
This time around I began to "bring up" the idea of how I'd like to go see a psychic while we were in Sedona a few days before our trip. I would drop little hints like, "I wonder what it would be like to talk with a psychic?" (Which, now that I think about it, is about as thinly veiled as a negligee on a newly wed bride...).
In addition, I resurrected a little trick I used when on vacation and wanted the tattoo a few years ago...each time we'd see a sign for a psychic reader (and there were many of them in Sedona): I'd say, "Oh look, a psychic reader, it must be a sign..."
I even had my kids in on the act (driving my husband even more nuts).
The third day into our stay he finally says to me, "If you want to go see a psychic reader, we'll do it tomorrow."
(Wow, really?! After you said you would never, ever spend your hard earned money on something so stupid, even on ME and even if I really wanted to?!)
Then I began to get cold feet. Do I really want to sit down with some (might be) crazy lady and let her tell me what my future looks like? Fifteen minutes for forty bucks is a lot of money...what if I am disappointed? What if she tells me I'm gonna die in the next six months or something???
So the next morning I called one of the MANY psychics whose brochures we picked up along our travels. I chose the one whose name I could not pronounce (Nirup?), but who looked the least...um..."out there". I found myself getting anxious while dialing her number to set up an appointment. Why was I so apprehensive?
She didn't answer. I took it as a sign it was an idea not meant to come to fruition. Oh well, move on.
We went into town to stop at a toy store in the shops at Tlaquepaque (say that fast three times...). My eleven-year-old son had his heart set on a jelly fish aquarium he'd seen several days before and just could not wait one more minute to be the proud owner of. Once that mission was accomplished, my husband pulled out of the shopping center and turned right...not towards our vacation home...but, right INTO the parking lot of the Center for New Age!
(I think to myself, "Oh shit, he's serious, he is not letting me off the hook.")
I know this means I am going to have an opportunity to meet with a psychic. I pretend like it's no big deal (even though on the inside I'm like OMG!) Upon entering the building I casually ask about getting a reading (as my family mulls around the myriad crystals, energy jewelry and various spiritual candle scents).
I am told there are three psychics available, to read their bios and pick one. So, after reading the short descriptions, I pick Jane. (She is the only woman on call today...not that I have anything against men, but like my gynecologist, I want my psychic to be a woman). It takes a few minutes for Jane to appear.
Jane is about my age, she has very long, brown hair (probably never been cut or colored), with a kind face and a very whimpy handshake. She takes me up to her reading room.
On the way we chatted amicably about the weather, Jane asked if I was visiting, "yes, from Dallas, we leave tomorrow." (That was all I was willing to share, I didn't want to give her too much information, I was curious to see what she might come up with...I was definitely a skeptic going in, but thought this whole experience would make a great story).
Inside the small, white room was a table and two chairs. The window was open and the lulling sound of water flowing over the river rocks behind the shop was soothing. Jane asked me to have a seat.
"What brings you to see me today, how can I help you?"
(I knew I only had fifteen minutes, so I didn't want to make the question too complicated. Plus, like I said, I wanted her to tell ME something, not me fill the time with answering her questions.)
"I just want to know if I am on the right path," I say to Jane.
(Could I have asked a more generic question?)
Jane gets quiet and looks off to the left side of where I am sitting. (I begin to get nervous because I have no idea what might be next...will she scream, cry, will her head spin?!)
I shit you not, this is the first thing Jane says..."You are an old soul. You are a teaching soul. You are a healing soul." (Okay...pretty general right?)
"You have a story to tell, and I see you speaking in front of large groups of people."
I start to cry. (This is the second time in the past few years spontaneous tears have erupted on my face while in front of a complete stranger. The last time it happened, I was in church at confession on my son's college campus telling the priest I was only going to confession to appease my son who I thought was worried about my soul...but that's a whole other story).
Jane hands me a Kleenex.
"Why are you crying?" she asks me.
"Because I am, and have always been, afraid to speak in front of a large group of people (for me, ten is a large number). I am okay leading a small group where we can sit on the same level, but I hate standing over people. In fact, the work I do involves leading small group discussions."
"Why don't you like standing above people?" she asks.
"Honestly, it's because I don't like a lot of people looking at me. I don't feel as if what I have to say is good enough, or important enough to share."
Jane says calmly, "You are a teaching soul, and a healing soul which means your story is an important piece of a puzzle for many other people." (Then she launches into something about the Beatles and her favorite singer (Steve Perry from the band Journey) and how if they didn't have the courage to step up and play instruments and sing we would not have the experience of their beautiful music.
(And I think to myself, if we had never heard their music we wouldn't know what we were missing, right?) (Then I refocus on what Jane is telling me).
"Yours is a story others need, it is a piece of a puzzle to their own life lessons. Your story has the ability to give others hope."
"May I use the word God?" Jane asks.
"Sure, that's fine", I say.
"Before we arrive in the world we choose the lessons we want to learn. The story you are to share is the result of lessons you have conquered. Lessons YOU wanted to learn while in this life. You are not "above" anyone, the people who hear your message are those who need your story to help their own. Just like you get pieces from others for your own life lessons, like our conversation right now."
I dab my tears and I ask Jane, "Okay, great, say you're right, HOW do I get over my fear?" (The million dollar question...at least in my mind anyway).
"You and I met today because it was time for us to do so. My message to you (which is: you are an old, strong, teaching, healing soul whose message is needed by others in order to give hope), is something you are now ready to hear. It's also a warning about things to come. But, you cannot move on until you let the Universe (God) know you are ready to accept the next step on your journey."
"You see", says Jane, "we don't wait for God, God waits for us."
"So when you are ready to move onto the next lesson you've chosen in this life, you just need to release that message into the world. When you do that, the people you need to accomplish the next mission on your journey will appear."
"You will speak to many, many people," says Jane.
"I see teaching workshops," she adds.
(I am not gonna lie to you, I was both freaked out and excited about what she was telling me. And, I was no longer a skeptic. Because, guess what?! I AM WORKING ON LEADING WORKSHOPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Unrelated to my job, that is.)
Jane verbalized what I have been feeling in my gut for some time now.
So, long story short, I have come to a fork in the road of my life. Shit or get off the pot. No, just kidding...embrace my life's purpose and walk the path meant for my life, or ball-up in the nearest corner.
I've come too far to ball-up, so I will continue to grow and walk the path awaiting God's next move in my life.
Although it makes me anxious, the fear is nothing compared to the passion I have for living up to my life's purpose.
Tell me, can you say the same thing?