So, this past Sunday, I gave her a call at the appointed time and had an interesting session. She told me that I'm supposed to be a leader, which surprised me because I simply don't see myself as one. Even if I wanted to be one, I think I have a healthy dose of reality to know that other people tend to "ignore me" or tune out when I talk, so its not like I have the kind of presence that a true leader needs. I know myself pretty well and for better or for worse, I'm essentially an introvert and comfortable with that. I think I'm best in one-on-one conversations, but when it comes to groups, I become invisible, even when I don't want to be. Its just the nature of things.
We got to talking about my jobs and she was stunned. She said, "You weren't meant to be someone's assistant for the rest of your life!" This came in response to what I had shared about my dream job being a political aide. She seems to indicate that I'm meant to be more than I'm currently aiming for. After we got to talking a little bit, I did admit that one of my ongoing frustrations in life was the level of incompetent leadership I've seen in the Navy and the Boy Scouts of America. I can be a far better leader than many of the people I've worked for. After all, I never would have led a group of Boy Scout employees to a strip club like one guy did last year. My problem is that I don't like telling people what to do, nor do I like being told what to do. I prefer the network / colleague model: each person in a group working relationship bring their interest, experience, and skills to the project or group. Everyone holds one another accountable. Decisions get discussed and made democratically. Ego and power plays are discouraged. Consensus is the name of the game. Cooperation, not competition. I just don't see that reality coming true any time soon. I was born in the wrong country! But I realize that, because I have no intention of being born in America in future lifetimes. I'm done with this country if we keep lurching to the right (America has been on a rightward march for as long as I've been alive).
This lady said that my spirit guides were actually "frustrated" with me!!! Really? Well, I'm frustrated too! Where the hell were they when I prayed for guidance during the worst years of my life (2007-2010) when I was stuck in the worst job I've ever had to endure? I was open to guidance and they were silent. So, the frustration would be a two way street. If my spirit guide really wants me to be a leader, they need to do a better job showing me the path towards that eventuality. Instead, I got that trickster synchronicity that fooled me into accepting the job offer with That Awful Place That Shall Not Be Named and I was stuck for four years of my life. That pushed me to the darkest, deepest despair. Its a miracle that I did not end my life in those years. That ought to count for something, right?
She had told me that I was a great writer and very intelligent. She seemed taken aback when I didn't automatically agree with her assessment on being "very intelligent." I told her that I thought of myself as "adequately intelligent." She wanted to know why I thought so. I told her that one of the most common perceptions people have had of me since elementary school is that they think I'm a lot more intelligent than I really am. She thought I was putting myself down, but I didn't think so. I told her that I believed myself to be spiritually smart and able to process information and make sense of them, but when it came to book smarts that would help me to test well, I wasn't that great. If I think I'm smarter than most people, its only because I tend to think about things at a deeper level than most people I know. But what's the point in being my kind of smart when it hasn't helped me work my way up some company ladder into positions of respect and authority? What's the point of being my kind of smart if I find most managers and leaders to be complete morons in a moral and ethical way? I really need to be my own boss. Really. If she can help me achieve that, I will be very grateful! I told her that I wanted my own company or non-profit organization to put into practice my ethical and spiritual principles. I'd like to try my hand at something like that.
In the hour conversation, I learned a little visual sequence I can use each day to get me into the flow of life. The problem is making such a thing a habit. Also, I should meditate each day. I can find 20 minutes to do that. My meditation moments are irregular, but I always feel good afterwards. I just need to make it a habit. The counselor said that the reason why my life feels blocked is because my heart area is "closed." She said that I need to open it up. I admitted to being reserved, but its understandable in my case. I've just had the worst decade of my life where I experienced every kind of loss (death of loved ones, loss of a car, loss of a job, loss of income, loss of my dignity, loss of my dream job, loss of two women that I found "marriage material"). After experiencing so much rejection, I just don't think my heart can take anymore. I've lost faith in anything good happening in my life because I had a decade where not a single thing went right for me. It is very difficult to reverse my mental process after a decade of loss that I've experienced. I'm taking baby steps at the moment, but its a lot of work. Interesting enough, people have mentioned my demeanor changing when I'm around a dog. On Tuesday, I had carried the homeowner's cute little pug in my arms and the female housemate commented on how different I looked. The homeowner even said that I should have my picture taken with his pug and put it on my Match.com ad. He said that I'll definitely get responses if I do that.
The session lasted almost ninety minutes and we made another appointment for Sunday afternoon. I'm expecting it to be just as brutal, but she gave me homework to accomplish before then, so we'll see if some headway can be made. She did say that I should've gotten counseling years ago, but I disagree. I've read so many different self-help psychology books in the past decade. Perhaps I should have been much improved by now, but I think the four years that I worked at that awful place really did a lot of damage to my psyche. I'm still in recovery mode! When I told her that the reason why I've never done counseling was because I could not afford it, she said that I had a "poverty consciousness." Or maybe I just don't believe in paying exorbitant hourly rates to someone else when I have bills to pay.
Yesterday, I had received an email from the psychic that I had went to see in August 2007. He was the one who said that I should focus on dating a lady in the spiritual group I was a part of instead of looking for a job. I took it to mean that he was trying to get me to focus on Christine, whom I was just getting to know at the time, rather than a job and had I listened, my life could have been radically different. Anyhow, I'm on his mailing list and in his latest email, he featured an interesting story that put a lump in my throat when I read it. I seriously need to remember this one. It shows how quickly life can change once you make a change in favour of your destiny. The toughest part of life is finding one's destiny. I'm determined to find out the proper career path for me this year. Not that I'm in a rush to leave my job. There's still much work to be done and if I start a new job, I won't be able to take a vacation for another year, and I really want to go home for Christmas, 40th birthday, and New Year's this year.
Here is that inspiring story from the psychic I believe is very legitimate:
When a woman in her thirties came to me for a psychic reading, the first thing I noticed was her modest, almost drab appearance. She wore practical shoes and wire-rim glasses. Her lifeless, gray hair was tied back in a bun. Her face, pockmarked from adolescent acne, exhibited no energy or enthusiasm toward me, the psychic process or anything in life. How she got the gumption to even come for a psychic reading has always been a mystery to me.
But she did come, for advice on her career. She worked in the bowels of city hall, where she was employed in the accounting department as a computer analyst. She spent most of her time working. Like a human mole, she lived most of her days underground, only rarely experiencing the city or the sun.
This was the only information I had when I went into my mental "workshop" to watch the movies about her. I closed my eyes, went into my imaginary room, invited her in, and had her sit in a chair in front of me. Suddenly, I had the oddest sense that I was looking at Einstein! The overwhelming impression I had of her was that she was not just intelligent, but a true genius.
When I told her this, she tried to discount it but finally admitted she had an unusually high IQ. In fact, she had graduated first in her college class and not only worked with computers, but was in great demand as an analyst for the federal government. When it came to computers, she had the ability to do most anything, but it was clear that her present job was not bringing her happiness.
I returned to the "workshop" and waited for another picture to appear, but when one did, it was so amazing I thought it must be a mistake. Instead of a mousy woman, I watched as a vibrant, glowing girl bounded about the "workshop", dressed for the beach in shorts and a sleeveless top.
I had a difficult time calming the young woman down so I could watch the scenes unfold. Slowly, however, the images came. I saw her on a South Pacific island working with a group of very excited people. As I walked closer to the group, I could see they were digging in the sand and uncovering a portion of a very old foundation. It became clear that this was a group of archaeologists working on a dig. And she was part of the group!
I opened my eyes and watched the real her looking at me with great curiosity. She was obviously anxious to hear what I had to say, but I hesitated. What could the "workshop" scene have to do with this quiet woman? I returned to the "workshop," but the same scenes reappeared, this time in vivid color. The young woman in the scenes was ecstatic. The group loved her. The beach scenes were glorious, romantic, exciting.
I finally told her that I saw her working in the South Pacific on an archaeological dig. I told her all this with the very real fear that she would think I was crazy. Which is just what she did think!
"What in the world are you talking about!?" she demanded. "Are you from the moon or something? I came to you for advice on how to make the best use of my computer abilities and you're telling me you see me on an island?" She looked annoyed and perplexed.
I quickly dropped the subject and went on to other issues that I could see were troubling her, including her difficult relationship with her domineering mother. She seemed pleased with my suggestions, but before she left, I felt I had to return to what I saw as the most important topic.
"The images of the island were so clear and strong," I told her, "I would be very surprised if they were wrong."
She agreed to consider them, thanked me, and left.
During the next several days I often thought of her. There was something very compelling about her and the island pictures. I wondered what happened to her. Did she still think I was from the moon? Was she still buried in the basement of city hall? A month passed. Then one day I got a call from her.
"I just had to call and thank you," she said. "Your reading has had a tremendous impact on my life."
She admitted that the day she left me she had been very confused, even angry. Everything I told her made sense, except for the strange idea of her being on an island, which she couldn't stop thinking about. She was so distracted and upset that she decided to drive to the Oregon coast to sort things out.
There she found a large boulder overlooking the beach and she sat down. Most of the day she just sat there, crying. She was angry with me for exposing this picture, and with herself for having denied something she had always been interested in. Since she was a child, she had been fascinated with archeology, but had not even allowed herself to think about it.
Somehow, the reading had broken through her shell and brought all those memories back.
With a tremendous sense of excitement and enthusiasm, she left the beach and returned home to talk with friends about her rediscovered interest. She told them about the reading and the day at the beach. They, in turn, told her of some friends who were looking for assistants in an archeological dig in the Cook Islands in the South Pacific. When she told me this, a chill went up and down my spine and I felt her excitement through the phone. She began to cry and had a difficult time thanking me and telling me that she was, in fact, leaving to work on the Cook Island.
"When will you be leaving?" I asked.
"In about ten minutes!" she cried. She had packed her belongings and put everything in storage. At that very moment, she was sitting on her suitcase in her empty apartment, waiting for her friends to drive her to the airport. She had called to thank me and tell me what had happened.
Several months passed before I heard from her again. I was doing mini-readings in a bookstore when she suddenly appeared in the doorway. I'll never forget how she looked. A radiant, vibrant woman, she stood above me, her arms outstretched to give me a hug.
She was in town for only a few days, she said, to get rid of her furniture and see her mother. She would soon be flying back to Australia to be with a wonderful man she had met while working on the Cook Islands. He had asked her to move home with him and work with him developing new computer programs that could be used in archeology.
We only had a few minutes to talk, but the changes in her were obvious. She thanked me for my help, and I thanked her for having the courage to believe in the "workshop" and make the images come real. We were both teary eyed when she left, knowing she would not be coming back, that we would not see each other again, but we were also happy that she had discovered what it means to come to life and I discovered...or rediscovered yet again...the need to trust in my visions that are such a gift from the "workshop."