Soul searching with a psychic
Next month I’m turning 21. Like most people my age, I have no idea who I am, what I’m supposed to do or who I’m supposed to be.
Of course, I have dreams, but they all seem so distant and unachievable that they’re usually boiled down to another anxiety that keeps me up at night. So – with what I hope is a long life ahead of me – I figured there would be no harm in taking a sneak peek. On the eighth of June, I went to a psychic.
Colleen, the psychic, operated her business in the basement of her home. I never asked for her last name, I felt like it took away from the illusive nature of it all. I had heard of Colleen through my mother, who joined me on my spiritual journey.
Colleen, and the office she reads people in, was nothing like what one might imagine. She reminded me of the aunt that let you eat biscuits whenever you wanted, and told you things about sex your mother thought was too inappropriate.
When you walk into the basement, all around are inexplicable Christmas decorations and knitting projects left abandoned. She had two of the tiniest dogs I had ever seen that would jump up on your lap if you weren’t on guard.
Her office displayed an array of different religions, all meant to make sure everyone felt safe, she had assured me.
I found out immediately that Colleen’s number one concern was her clients comfort and ease. The second thing I found out was that in my past life I was royalty, which – honestly – doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.
When I went into her office, I had expected a series of predictions that I could look forward to. I would fall in love on this month, rip my favourite sweater on this day, etc. And for others who went in to see Colleen, that is, to a degree, what happened.
Allegedly, my sister will be the cause of a car accident in February.
Colleen also claimed that my mother will buy another farm.
While she had predictions for me, our hour together consisted mostly of life advice only someone who knew me all my life could give.
And it felt like Colleen knew me all my life. She knew I was a writer without my having to tell her, she knew that after a very unsuccessful attempt I had given up playing the flute in high school. That I was a paranoid driver, and that I wanted to move to Paris, France.
“It’s not patience that you’re in this life for, it’s persistence,” she said.
Colleen explained that we all have a lesson to learn in life, and that that was mine.
She had called me out immediately on my tendency to give up when things become too hard. Like the flute.
“You don’t believe you can do it, so you just stop. Which is why you’ve never finished writing a novel.”
Colleen had a habit of looking at me in a disapproving – but not entirely unamused – way when she said things like this, reinforcing my view of her as an auntie.
When we moved on from my career, she asked if we could discuss my relationships. I had thought that the section would be a breeze. Never having been in a serious relationship before I was doubtful on the baggage we could unpack.
“You can’t spend all your energy in pushing people away, and then be surprised when they leave,” was the first of many scathing truths about why I won’t get into a relationship, alongside my personal favourite:
“You won’t live with anyone until you can accept and live with yourself.”
A rendition on one of the worlds worst adages. While Colleen had apologized several times for her blunt truths, I found it incredibly refreshing.
This was all advice that can help me become a fuller and better person.
But what about the predictions she gave to me. There were a few that stick out, such as the prediction that I will be an accomplished writer, that I’ll move to Paris, France in three years.
The other, less welcomed predictions were that I will have multiple divorces, as well as triplets. Since twins don’t run in my family, I’m blaming the illusive first husband for that.
Do I believe her though?
I’m not inclined to put all my eggs in one psychedelic basket, as much as I want to believe that I have a long and wealthy career ahead of me.
But her understanding and assessment of my character isn’t something I’m turning away from so quickly.