I haven’t been to many psychics but I’ve been to a few. Mostly as a lark and usually with a girlfriend in tow. I don’t know how much credence I give to psychics, especially those who set up shop in highly populated tourist areas. Of course, these are typically the ones I’ve gone to. Whether I believe in the abilities of psychics or not is immaterial. My experiences with them have always been fun.
My first visit with a psychic was over 20 years ago in Columbus, Ohio. My husband Pat and I were in the process of relocating to the central coast of California. (From Columbus, the central city of Ohio. We like being in the middle of things, I guess.) Pat’s new job was in Watsonville, California. Watsonville?! What a boring name for a city. Especially in California. No glamour, no glitz, no reference to the ocean or beach. Just blah. I remember telling folks who asked that we were moving to the central coast between Santa Cruz and Monterey. It sounded better to me. Anyway, I digress.
Pat had already started his new job in California, a few months before I was set to move in February. I was curious about psychics and really hadn’t developed an opinion about their legitimacy. I decided to try it out, see what he or she could tell me about my new life in California.
I can’t recall how I got the name of this so-called “reputable” psychic but I imagine it was a friend. Or the yellow pages. (Remember the yellow pages?)
The psychic I went to used crystals with me. I think she may have also done palm reading or tarot cards too, but I chose the crystal reading. Must’ve thought I’d get more bang for my buck with the crystals.
Her “reading” room was comfortable enough. I sat on a couch; she sat in an armchair catty-corner from me. She asked me for a personal item she could hold and I gave her my set of keys. While rubbing the crystal in one hand and playing with my keys in the other, she told me of my future.
I remember next to nothing about what she said though I do recall two things. She asked me if I had seen the house I would be living in out in California. (I think I must have told her I was moving to California. Now, in retrospect, that was a mistake. I shouldn’t have told her because she’s a psychic and should have known.) After telling her “No,” the psychic told me my house was very pretty. It was white and cement and she might have also said it was on top of a hill.
The house Pat and I bought and still live in, is off-white and on top of a hill. But cement?! When I heard this I about flipped. How is a cement block house, though painted white, supposed to be “pretty”? (It wasn’t until I got home that I realized stucco is a type of cement.) Regardless, our house is not stucco or cement.)
The psychic also told me that I would have the same type of job in California as the one I was leaving in Columbus and that the pay would be about the same. Well this was not good news for me on two counts. I wanted to do something totally different than what I was doing in Columbus. Plus, isn’t the cost of living super high in California? A similar salary would be more-or-less a pay cut out in California. Bummer, bummer.
As it happens, I left my job as a director with the Ohio State Medical Association with an annual salary of $40,000 to become the executive director of the Monterey County Medical Society and Santa Cruz County Medical Society starting with an annual salary of $45,000. Similar job, similar pay. Bingo! (Thankfully, by the time I left the medical societies, I had doubled my salary.)
I had run out of questions to ask the psychic with plenty of time to spare in my already-paid-for session. She asked if I’d like to know about my past lives. Past lives? What the hell? I said, “Sure”.
She told me I knew my husband and in fact, was married to him during World War II. I had been in the Women’s Army Corps serving somewhere in Europe when my building was bombed and I was killed. Sad. I don’t recall what she said about my then-husband but he must have died around the same time because we were both “reborn” in the same year.
Most intriguing to me was hearing about my past life as a boy. About 100 years before my reading (∼1900), I was a 12-year-old boy living in California, who ended up being killed in a minor earthquake. How cool is that?! Not cool that I-he died but this was information I could investigate to learn more about me-him.
After moving to California, I made a concerted effort to research and obtain information on my former boy self, but with no luck. San Francisco had a major earthquake in 1906 but the psychic had said it was a minor earthquake and she seemed to imply that it was some sort of fluke accident that boy-me died. ✿
To be continued…
Interesting!