The flip side of the coin
Alright, deep breaths. Now that my knee-jerk reaction to the abominable news that I am likely to meet the love of my life on my next roaming adventure has subsided, let me put on my (spiritual) scientists goggles and take a look.
The death card is not an indication of imminent death. I just let you believe that it does for an added dramatic effect – I hope it worked! The death card actually represents drastic inner-transformations. I was not surprised to see it. Drastic inner-transformations are all I’ve been doing for the past two years. Don’t be fooled by the hikes, climbs, paddles and incessant changes in location. The inner-journey is the juicy center that makes all my adventures delicious.
So, how did Michele pull the death card and that tall, handsome King of Cups that’s going to make me want to grow roots and make a home? Well, I believe that psychic don’t foretell the future, they simply intuitively read the energy we emanate. In most cases, the energy we emanate dictates our future by “the law of attraction”. I have been testing the law of attraction over the past year or so, somewhat methodically. So far, I have found that, for me at least, it works. Basically, the Universe only knows “yes”. If you project anger, you will find yourself in situations that really piss you off. If you emanate love and gratitude, your life will continue to look like a golden dream. The problem most people have is that they are unaware of the energy they emanate, and as Carl Jung said,
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will guide your life and you will call it fate.”
I have observed that there seem to be a delay in the manifestation process. So, the energy I emanate today might take weeks, months or years to take form in the physical reality. Physicality is just really dense and hard to create. If a person is unaware of their energy, they are unlikely to change it, so whatever they emanate has time to produce (or attract) a physical reality. A skilled psychic can “read” this hidden energy and use their intuition and knowledge of the deck of card to find the cards that match it. This is just my hypothesis. Some people believe that psychics do not foretell the future, but instigate it by planting seeds of what path to follow in a client’s brain. This wouldn’t work with somebody as contrary as I am – Michele is the first one whom I have not received with rolled eyes.
One of the reasons why psychics don’t usually work for me is that I enjoy picking apart my own energy. I think that the body is constantly sending us clues about its energetic state in the form of emotions (fear, sadness, etc.). When we don’t listen, these can become aches and pains or worse. Have you seen the quote, “If you don’t listen to Life’s little whispers, it will get its message across to you with a 2X4?” I like to disarm them before I get the 2X4. Sometimes I don’t know why I feel a certain emotion. That’s alright. Just the fact of acknowledging it and accepting that it is there is enough. It says “oh good, she saw me. I don’t need to get drastic.”
This is what I did today: I processed the whispers. At the physical level, I went on the most amazing hike through the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Loved the backdrop! Loved loved loved it!! But while my body enjoyed good exercise, fresh air and sunshine, my mind turned to the post I wrote last night. Never mind what Michele or the cards said, the clue about what energy I’m emanating is in the reaction I had to the reading. Have you ever heard of somebody so upset upon hearing they are about to meet the love of their life? Right. So, I knew there was something there worth looking at for me.
– Warning: I’m about to share my personal processing. If this seems too much, stop reading here. Thank you for your visit. If you have a hint of voyeur in you, stay right here. I have no qualms about sharing (I’m writing a book, I’d better not).
First, I had to admit to myself that I do emanate both “I’m looking for a partner” and “I’m looking for home.” Although I can honestly claim to be perfectly happy on my own, I can just as honestly admit to secretly hoping somebody will sweep me off my feet and join me on joyous romps. Intimacy and co-creation of adventures are just so delicious. Maybe some people can lead full rich lives without them. I don’t think I’m one of them. I’d always feel I’m missing out. Then, under that, I discovered that I might actually only be blissful about my current single free-spirit lifestyle because I expect it to end. Think of your favorite ice cream in the whole wide world, and you were so lucky to get the last scoop of it, ever. Guaranteed, that scoop is going to taste better than if you had it every day for the rest of your life. I think you might even stop liking it if you had so much of it.
I have fantasized about living in my truck for the rest of my life. My truck is my home. Why would I want to have a stationary one when I can have a different view out of my bedroom window every day? Again, I had to admit to myself that instead, I am not so different from that little bird in Dr. Seuss’ “Are you my Mother?” I love roaming when I am actually on the move, but I have noticed that whenever I come into a town, I size it up. I go from town to town asking “Are you my home?” For a day or two, I look at houses that have “for sale” or “for rent” signs. I imagine having friends down the street who’d come visit. I’d befriend the cashier at the grocery store. I’d have my own rug on the floor and my sand collection on a shelf. Sigh … But, either I feel I don’t fit (Denver, Portland) or opportunities dry up and I am gently asked by the town to move on (Bellingham, Ashland) or something else shiny in the distance calls me away (Sedona, Livingston).
So what’s the big resistance? Michele basically said I get everything I now know I secretly want.
AhA! Fear! It always comes down to fear. I fear that being in a partnership will require compromises. Compromises always limit freedom. And, freedom is a requirement for my happiness. I also equate container with control. I see a container as something in which I will have to fit, which necessarily implies becoming less or smaller than the biggest ever-expanding version of myself I could be. So, for a partner to be suitable, as I see it, his presence would have to enhance my life from its already perfect place. And, instead of being a container for my energy, he would have to be a perch to which I can fly at will or an open-face display surface, with big lights. Yes, tall order. It will be a special one who can pull that off, if he even exists.
The same goes for home. Bellingham was my home. Although I have left seeking something else, something new, because my heart suggested I might grow from the experience, I was happy there. That is where Baker is, and my favorite coffee shop by the bay, and Yogoman Burning Band, and a plethora of memories in every corner. It is not home anymore. It always welcomes me as a cherished visitor, but do you know what happens when you sleep on a friend’s couch for too long? Same with Bellingham.
After following the rabbit down the hole amidst pristine blue alpine lakes, I finally stumbled upon it. Yep. I fear change. How is that? The roaming bobcat actually fears change. Woah.
Well, you know what? It’s alright. I’m looking at the fear straight in the eyes. I’m looking at it so much that I’ve spread it out in the sun for all to see. I’ll take it with me down south and throw a little bit of it in the Pecos, and the Mississippi, and the James River. By the time I get to New Hampshire – or wherever I end up -, it will be completely gone, and that King of Cups won’t have such a basket case on his hands.
Or, alternatively, maybe by looking at it, I’ll dissipate the fear, and therefore no longer have that energy signature, and therefore attract something completely different, in which case, all bets are off.
In which case, I’ll just return to following my heart blindly …