Speaking of Astrologers

I went to see a psychic once. With 2 good friends from grad school. We took a long long train ride out to Coney Island, where this woman lived. We were ushered into her house by her husband, a long thin bean-pole of a man. The psychic came out to greet us, and she weighed probably 300 pounds. Her house was filled with little sparkley wind chimes, and you could see the grey ocean from the windows.

Now I’m a sort of hopeful skeptic in this regard. I do believe that there are certain things “out there” that certain very sensitive people can pick up on. I’ve actually experienced moments like that myself, when I have a blinding moment of insight about a total stranger … something that turns out to be exactly true. (For example, I met this really nice woman at a barbecue once, I knew nothing about her, we talked briefly – and for some reason, I got a sudden flash of: “This chick was once very loose, and very wild. She is now probably born-again, but in a very laid-back way. She has found Jesus, and it works for her … but she’s not gonna proselytize to anyone about it. It helped her not act like a slut anymore, and so she’s happy, and deeply faithful.” Uhm – I’m serious: I got that very detailed impression of her in my brief conversation with her. And it turns out I was exactly right. I don’t know … it was just a thought-picture I got as I talked to her, an impression based on nothing other than … her spirit, her chemistry, who she appeared to be in the world.) But anyway – I just want to make it clear that I don’t TOTALLY pooh-pooh this kind of stuff – but I do take it all with a grain of salt AND I think you need to be careful. I think there are things that should not be messed with. I don’t think the future should be looked into too deeply, I don’t think you should live your life from the horoscope you read in the paper. Etc.

All of that being said: there was something about this woman. You just could feel it the second you shook hands with her. She had a penetrating mind, and yet also a KIND mind. I shook hands, and she looked at me, and I felt like: woah, nelly, she is SEEING ME, right now and I have no idea what she sees.

She was also not at all into the frou-frou New Age decor. There were no unicorns, or goddesses, or crystal pyramids. She had none of the trappings. She was like The Oracle in The Matrix. Member that great scene? She saw us one by one, in her kitchen – with a formica table, and a pitcher of lemonade, and sticky leather old-fashioned chairs. She was like a regular housewife.

She let us tape the session.

I don’t remember much of what she said to me … but one thing has stayed with me ever since. It was one of those moments when someone provided me with a deeper insight into my own behavior, my own proclivities. I’m not saying I believe the WHY of her insight, but I am saying that it was a terrific insight, regardless. I had never had someone NAIL this particular aspect of me in such a pure and truthful way.

She said to me, holding my hand in her pudgy one, saying – in her classic tough New York accent: “In a formah life, Sheila, you were a saint.”

“Like … a good person … or …?”

“No. I mean a saint, Sheila. I mean that they burned you at the stake. Ya drove God crazy, Sheila. You were a complete fanatic.”

It was almost like I held my breath, listening to her. Listening to what might be behind the words. Some revelation … my relationship to God … always in flux …

Then she said, “And that’s why – in this life – you don’t really do organized religion. Ya don’t like buildings to hold God in, Sheila. You might go to church, but that’s not where you worship God. You worship God on the beach, and with the stars. You’re gonna find God on your own in this life, Sheila.”

I would bet that’s about word for word what she said, even though it was probably 9 years ago.

I’ve never written about my religious feelings here much … it’s the ultimate in personal … I can write about my old boyfriends and the triumvirate, no problem. But God? Nope.

But her words just struck a HUGE chord with me. Not only did they strike a huge chord – but they also relaxed me immensely. Things made sense. Yes. She nailed it. She nailed exactly who I am when it comes to God. I have no idea if I was some fanatic in a former life, and I don’t even know if I believe in former lives – BUT: it’s fun to contemplate it. As an intellectual exercise. If it is true that I was burned at the stake in a former life (which – if you knew how religious I was in high school – would make TOTAL sense … I wasn’t just “religious”, I was, at times, practically in a fugue state of Jesus-love. Yup – I was one of those. Only the Catholic version of it). But anyway: if it is true that I was once burned at the stake – then it would make sense that

1. I would flirt with that kind of passion in this life. As a holdover.
2. I would eventually realize that it doesn’t work for me (as if I remember the flames licking at my limbs from my former life)
3. I would quickly develop a healthy suspicion of fundamentalism of ANY kind. Because I know, intuitively, how dangerous it is, and how harmful.

I’ve talked about this here before. Fundamentalist Islam, fundamentalist Christians – I don’t care. Fundies make my skin crawl. I have no idea where this comes from – I was brought up surrounded by mild Catholics and Episcopalians, I didn’t have bad experiences with fundies – not really … but there’s something visceral in my distrust of extremism and fanaticism.

So anyway. That was my experience with the obese psychic on Coney Island.

I take her words with a grain of salt, naturally, but her “ya drove God crazy” and “you’re gonna find God on your own” comments really struck a chord. I still think of them on occasion.