Somehow, yesterday's post about my experiences with psychics diseappeared entirely. So, I'm sorry if your comments have been lost. I don't know why this post is so important to me that I need to make sure that it's read but I guess I'm just proud of it.
The Anonymous Blogger posted an angry letter to a psychic that gave him bad information. This reminded me of a time in my life when I was lonely, sad and vulnerable to the charlatans that claim they can help you solve all of your problems with a simple cure.
There was one who really got to me when I was in my early 20's. I was so naive, I believed everything she told me. It started with an initial reading. She was able to read my life in the cards. She figured out that I was unhappy, lonely and lacking direction. At the time, I had just graduated college and moved in with a girlfriend into a cheap apartment on the upper east side - a ridiculously cheap apartment. The job that had been promised to me by my friend's brother-in-law the summer previous to graduation was gone. I found out by going into work and seeing someone sitting at the front desk, my desk - no one had bothered to tell me that I had been replaced even though they knew I was moving into the city and coming in. So there I was - living in the city because I thought there was a job waiting for me. Anyway, I ended up working for her sister instead as a caterer's assistant because I guess her dickhead brother-in-law and the rest of the family felt sorry for me. I was so green.
Also, I had little to no self-confidence. I didn't know what to do. I felt alone, so alone in the extremely intimidating big city, three or four companies had just let thousands of employees go (early 90's) because of cutbacks making finding a job next to impossible and I had made such a strong stand against my parents to be on my own that I just couldn't go home. In addition, these people, this friend and her family whose "care" I fell into had this way of making me feel like I had no natural talent or ability, like I was this alien who fell to earth from the planet "average" - they were all uber artists and lived in some strange world where normal people didn't even register on their snob meters. I must have reeked of eau-de-pathetic.
It was under these circumstances that I went to see a psychic to see what my future held for me. She read my cards and told me that there was a curse on me, but we had to do some work to figure out what kind of curse it was, who cursed me and how we were going to remove the curse. She told me to take a tomato and hide it in my apartment for several days and then bring it back to her. For a few more dollars she looked inside that tomato, at the rotten core, and knew what needed to be done.
When I was a small child, unbeknownst to me, someone had taken a piece of my hair and locked in a dark place. This was how they placed the curse. The curse was that I would never be able to see what life truly had in store for me; that I would never be able to see my ability or know what my place was in this world and this life. That sounded very serious to me and like exactly what was happening to me. I didn't know who I was or what I could do or where I was going. I thought for sure it must have been true.
But it wasn't until after she proposed the antidote for this curse that I realized she was in it for the money and that was she was saying might not be true. To figure out what was to be done I had to sleep with a rose under my pillow for a few days. I brought it back to her. For every petal that fell off the rose I was to give her $100 toward payment for a remedy to the curse. She offered to put some piece of me - hair or nails - in a gold box. She told me that she would burn candles around that box for days on end and have people pray for me. She also told me that she could make a representation of me in wax and burn candles around that. (side note: if anyone ever offers to make a representation of you decline. That is some seriously dark magic and if you don't believe in it, don't agree). This was supposed to ligthen my aura which was presumably mud-like and clear my vision.
I told my friend's brother-in-law about it and here is reason #300 why I hate these people in retrospect. He never said "WAKE UP. THESE PEOPLE ARE CHARLATANS." He never advised that she might be a phony or took the time to talk to me to see what might be bothering me. These f-ing people who told me they cared for me and made me believe it never looked out for me. Instead, this brother-in-law asked me if I really thought this cure was going to make a difference and that no one could decide that except for myself. In other words, he left me hanging.
It was also at this time that I developed a dislike for armchair therapists. Anyway, I finally realized I was being rooked. I envisioned myself as a fly on the wall for these "consultations" and saw how ridiculous I looked. I never gave that woman another penny although I did continue getting readings with other readers here and there, for some time there after. When you're lonely and you don't know where to turn to for advice, a small fee of $5.00 - $10.00 doesn't seem like too much money for some tea and sympathy.
I learned to read tarot cards on my own. I became quite good at it. I do believe in the mystical and the unseen. I also believe that life is for the living and that if you want to communicate with spirits, they'll be plenty of time for that in the afterlife. I don't read cards anymore.
The lesson here is to live your life, make your mistakes, take risks and rely on your gut instinct. Trust yourself and if you like how you were raised, trust your upbringing. Eventually you become more polished and even your gut starts maturing a little giving you better instincts on which you can rely.
Most people know how to solve their own problems. They just have to face them and solve them. That's the hard part. You have to be ready to tackle the big life issues but it's you that has to do it. That's what it means to work on yourself. But it's work.