Psychic Ass Kicking

I made my annual pilgrimage south.

2 days in the car driving, through mountains and tunnels and Georgia straight to the ocean.

To the condo of pastel hues and life sized wooden pelicans.

It isn’t exactly mecca. It’s a retirement community in the middle of Florida, on the Atlantic side.

But for me it is time spent bird watching, ocean swimming, rollercoaster riding and regrouping in the sun. When the air at home hurts my face.  I still do not know why I live where the air hurts my face. This is a welcomed reprieve from it. Something to look forward to.

The first night, upon arriving, the moon was FULL and the tide was HIGH.

I didn’t wait for daylight. I walked down to the beach, said hello to Mama Moon and Mama Ocean.
Paid my respects, made my wishes, did some witchy shit and then fell into a peaceful sleep.

On no less than 3 mornings I watched dolphins swim by from our 3^rd floor balcony. Yesterday they were close enough to touch. But I didn’t run down. I wouldn’t interfere. I sat with a Cheshire cat grin and just watched them with awe and joy.

Yesterday a rocket launched from Cape Canaveral and I stood on the beach with a thousand other people all facing the same way, hands in the salute/sun shielding position and watched an orange ball moving impossibly fast into the sky. 45 seconds after it left sight a low, beautiful rumble swept down the beach, hitting us all square in the chest and reverberating. First building then ebbing like the tides do every day, twice a day. I felt elated. Man-made miracles are miracles regardless.

In between days spent soaking up the sun, there are pilgrimages within the pilgrimage.

I go to Universal Studios and ride the Hulk until my legs shake. Wander through the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. The Last One and I talked at length about coming here together, he wanted to see it. And there were moments where I could actually see him beside me, watching the joy register on his face. I saw the whole thing again through different eyes and it was bitter, but fucking sweet. Maybe one day. I learned a few tricks this time around to avoid crowds and lines.

The second is meeting Our Sara of Lords in Cassadaga, it’s a psychic camp near Lake Helen about a half hour drive inland.

Doesn’t look like much really. Just a sleepy community. A hotel, brightly painted houses and a statue of Jesus in a park, his arms open and head tilted in a way that says ‘let me give you a hug dork’. I did not hug tiny Jesus, but I put my hand on the love tree growing behind him and that felt good.

On the second floor of the hotel are long white hallways with silver mirrors and dark wooden doors.

You can make an appointment with a psychic in the lobby and she or he will take you upstairs to the room they use and you get any variation of a reading you can think of.

I have had cards and palms read. My aura, my future told and a lot of sunshine blown up my ass about how unique and wonderful I am. That may be true, and so may be the myth of fingerprints.

The one area of my life that continues to vex me is romantic relationships. I don’t know how to girlfriend. The process of becoming one is, unknown to me. I can love all day long and it is a good love devoid of ego and claws. But I guess I don’t know how to be loved.

It was with this question I picked a woman who reminded me simultaneously of my paternal grandmother and the Oracle from the Matrix.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I told her before even sitting down that I had no idea what her process was, that I liked to just wing it. She chuckled. Told me she was interactive, that the more we talked, the more I would get out of it and asked if that was alright. Still functioning purely on gut instinct I said yes. Even though, I prefer to sit in silence and see what comes.

You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. Rolling Stones

This blog got brought up early and I was thinking to myself “I do not want to pay to sit here for half an hour to talk about the damned blog. “

Her first question after discussing numbers was ‘are you monetized’.

No, no I am not.

She laughed again and launched into 20 minutes of what I needed to do to make money doing this thing I am really good at. The roadblocks I use to stop myself were no match for the steamroller of truth she was driving over them.

This 60-something woman smiling at me, she runs her website, is a life coach, takes pole dancing, is working on her core.
I have ZERO excuses.

I needed her to show me this.

The rest is personal.

I know what I have to do.

I have to stop being afraid of succeeding. I know how good it feels to get things done.

I also know that somewhere deep down in me is a girl who wants to succeed and cannot afford to get lost in loving a man.
And that is the only kind of love that will do for me so…

If I build it, he will come.

Happiness will find you if you stop hiding.

The Oracle: No, you’ve already made the choice. Now you have to understand it.

I walked in there already knowing what I had to do. Just took a beautiful no bullshit woman to pull it out of me and make me see it.

I have 2 weeks between getting home and leaving again. I have all the tools. Time to finish building my empire.

Here is the link to hers.

Boomer Woman Your Time is Now!