Self-Aware

Originally written May 2010.

"Is it alright if I smoke?"

"I'd rather you not, I need you to not have any distractions."

I sigh and stub out my cigarette, sadly watching the glowing tip burn out. I really need a cigarette right now and I'm not sure why. I don't really believe I will learn more about myself just from the flip of a few cards and the colors that surround me. But what the heck, I'm open-minded, I'll try anything once.

I lean back against the soft leather cushions and try to get comfortable. Maybe if I'm comfortable, I'll be more open. Open to what? I'm not really sure. But before I can even let my mind begin to wander into that thought, she flips the first card.

"Assertiveness, this is a really good card and it being first shows how strong it is in you, if you just let it. You need to let it come out. But you're too scared of letting people down."

I realize I'm no longer sinking into soft leather. Instead, the creases of the cushions are digging into my legs as I sit forward, suddenly more interested in what she has to say.

"Well, I've always had that side of me, but kinda scared to show it, because, you know, I don't want to upset people." Suddenly, I really, really want to relight my cigarette.

"Your aura is strong. I see oranges and black around you. You're struggling with unforgiveness. You should let it go."

By this time, I apologize to her (forgetting to be assertive. Damn, I should work on that) and relight my cigarette. I inhale deeply and suppress a cough. The nicotine is comforting.

For a moment, I forget this is a random psychic reading in a small bar, I almost feel as if it's a therapy session. I want to open up to her and explain it all. But a part of me remembers psychology. It's all "illusion". Get them to talk enough, they can figure anything out. I remain silent, testing her.

She is honest and says I am surrounded by strong symbols, but she is still new at this and can't read them all. I sigh inwardly, catch myself just in time before I roll my eyes.

As she stares at me, my mind wanders. I Think of my orange and black aura. "Figures," I think to myself, "I can't be simple enough for tranquil blue or maybe a hot pink."

She then smiles and tells me I am strong, stronger than anyone realizes. I am highly underestimated and it frustrates me.

I take one last drag off my cigarette, sit it down and begin to question her.

"That's an easy read. Come on, everyone feels that way."

"Not like you. You have a deeper strength than most. You have struggled so much. But it has worked to your advantage, if you will let it."

I sink back into the couch again . . . . "Hmmm."

She let's me know our time is up and if I have any questions. I ask her what I need to do to be surrounded by a tranquil blue aura.

She laughs and tells me, it's simple, be someone else.

I watch the last grains of sand slide through the opening of the hour glass. I pay her the $5.00 fee and go into the bathroom. I stare into the mirror, nose pressed against my reflection and squint. I close one eye and then another, trying to catch a glimpse of a bright orange glow. But my reflection only shows a dim light from the one lightbulb over the sink and the reflection of a woman who thinks too much.

I join my friends again and order a beer. They ask what great truths were bestowed upon me. I"m not ready to share the insight with them so I just laugh it off. "Riches and true love." I roll my eyes to further cement their view of me as "The Cynic." I decide, for once, to not explain everything, but let time show how my life unfolds.

I do, however, let them know, I like the color orange a little bit more . . . .