The plus one and I were invited to a psychic group reading tonight.
Yes. I said psychic group reading. Stop laughing.
I’m serious. Stop it.
Despite a muddled history of spiritual, religious, philosophical, and scientific beliefs, neither the plus one nor I had ever actually talked to a psychic before. Personally, I kind of liked keeping the New Age stuff at a distance… because if I didn’t really research it, then I wouldn’t have proof that it wasn’t real.
… I like believing in things.
But anyway. We decided to go. That it would be fun. I mean, the host was serving booze and munchies.
Stop. Laughing.
Allyson was a very nice lady. She told interesting stories from her childhood, work experience, and paranormal culture. She concentrated on each person in the group for fifteen minutes or so, interpreting information she received from symbols and spirits that only she could see and hear.
While I truly do believe that some people are more tuned-in to the energies that people can give off, different planes/levels of cognition, and the collective unconscious… some of these “interpretations” were inferences anyone with a couple years of mental health training could make.
But I am not going to spend the next thirty minutes debunking everything she said. Partly because it defeats the purpose of the whole event. And partly because of what she said to me.
Among the random family history crap, the flawed medical advice, and the visions of me travelling to Europe for personal enlightenment and food touring, this lady told me that I was going to be a creative writer.
On the day I start blogging again… this lady tells me that I will find some “hook” or series to write about… that I will probably write for several genres including children… and that my books will be “evergreen,” in that they will be published and republished year after year.
… yeah. Fuck me.
