The Palm Reading

"In arming yourself with this science, you arm yourself with a great power and you will have a thread that will guide you into the labyrinth of the most impenetrable hearts." ~ Henri De Balzac~ 


     Everybody knows the taste of hell from a deep rooted sense of fear and anger that comes into our lives because we can't see past ourselves. There are answers that help solve the riddles on the palms of our hands and if you are afraid to face yourself, it's highly probable that you will be scared of the palm reader.

    I am the scary 5 foot tall palm reader from the suburbs who raised children, grows flowers and paints on canvas in the kitchen but he didn't know that on Saturday afternoon. His dark skin with shaved eyebrows, long nails and hands the size of my face may scare some people but I could see his eyes and they were kind. A little boy who was afraid, very afraid. Twice he ran out of the room when it was his friend's turn but at closing time, he returned and laid his money on the table.

     Large hands, capable of making beautiful things and a lover of detail. Soft, fleshy hands that may be prone to lofty dreams or laziness. I held both hands to connect with his soul. This is the moment when whatever they have done yesterday, be it good or bad, is dissolved because their higher self is present. The many lines on his hands told stories and I read as many as I could considering the time crunch. A strong life line indicating a passion for living but the head line was disconnected from the life line, showing a large gap. The gap of an extrovert or a dare devil but in his case it was the sign of a risk taker because of the many stars and short lines interrupting the main lines.

     Sweat started to show on his face and his laugh already knew what the lines predicted so I drew my attention away from the lines, closing my eyes, I saw his mother. I saw his dreams, I felt his uncomfortable living conditions. This man was a lover of opulence who dreamed of owning a restaurant but could perform and captivate an audience. How? There was a block he carried and I said, "Your mom is wild!" The other men laughed and he nodded. I saw that she liked sex but kept that to myself.
 
     He was an accident waiting to happen, had crashed his new car, broke seven bones in his body and even managed to run over his foot with the lawn mower, thankfully keeping all toes. Was he angry at his mom, yes! Things were making sense. Wide space in between life and head line screamed, "I am a soul that came to experience freedom! I will be a risk taker so my big dreams can manifest!" is how he pre-marked himself.

     "You can thank your mother for allowing you to know your soul's dream. If you were left alone as a child, she was in some odd way honoring your soul," I said. None of my words made sense to me because I had been a present and overly protective mother to my kids. "What a gift this woman is to you, I hope you love her enough to thank her for being in your life." He had no words, he had no nervousness, in fact I was invisible. He looked through me and beyond the walls of the room. The room was darkened by winter's early evening and I closed the reading to his silence.

     "Thank you, I am glad to have come to see you today," were his words. We stood up and he was the only client of the day who gave me a hug. A six foot six hug without any fear of the five foot palm reader.

Blizzard of Oz 2013

     Schools closed before snow fell, they usually don't do that but we were expecting twelve inches! The kitchen windows stayed fogged up from having too many cooks in the kitchen. Roasted purple potatoes with red peppers and garlic complimented the kale, apple and carrot salad with pumpkin seeds. Bill made his famous scrambled eggs cooked on high heat that smoked up the place and I was thankful the smoke alarm was quiet. We finished lunch with bowls of lemon flavored Greek yogurt and French pressed coffee. Windy, cold winter day, what a treat!

Winter Indoor Things

     Icy sliver of air that blows under the kitchen door is moseying around tonight, looking for warm toes to chill. Dark comes too fast and winter keeps thoughts alive. Thoughts of heated summers and do my loved ones have warm blankets in their homes tonight? Where are the cats that eat my gifts of chicken on the good plate? Cats with skinny little legs, the ferals. Tea or coffee? Another cinnamon roll? Absolutely! The warm blanket hides what summer clothes do not.
   
     

Brothers

 love showed itself on a sidewalk
 facing west for passing cars
 on the hilly sidewalk that has
 a surprise mystery step
 and i was lucky to choose
 turning right instead of left
 that would have been a short cut
 but love knew right was best
 or i may not have noticed
 the twin boys, color of burnt sienna
 wearing over sized blue coats
 and backpacks full with eyes
 that said, "we're new at this
 we are scared"
 brothers holding hands
 because mama said to do it
 and leave your coat on
 even if you're hot cause
 coats aren't cheap
 yes, love showed itself today
 thank you Love.

Forget the Shadow (Dreams and Groundhog Day)

     I can still hear the sounds of the heavy chair being moved side to side back to its favorite spot in the sun near the big bay window and my arm hair stands at attention as I type these words. A raspberry velvet covered seat with wooden carved arms and curvy legs, it's old and loved by a woman who can't be seen. She's in the dream and doesn't want her favorite chair moved but I do. Why is my oldest daughter in the dream and why is she wearing the permed hair she had in the fourth grade? I'm scared and am suddenly woke to the requests of a daughter needing a quick ride to work on this cold morning with winds blowing in the teens. Her car is frozen shut, no time to analyze a dream or grab a comb. Traffic is steady at 45 miles per hour, lights are on and off, the rhythm is visible, people bus riding, coffee drinkers steaming windows and all in tune to what's playing on the radio. Over and over, the daily grind repeating itself. I'm getting a text for the next mission. "Mom! Kaitlyn is sick with a 102 temperature and I have a lab test at school this morning, will you babysit in ten minutes?" I arrive in time, the day is saved and that's when the dream has melted into nothingness.
     It's hard to be sick when grandma is an unexpected visitor.The fever has left and it's time for cartoons, round frozen waffles and pretend pet store fun but suddenly, Kaitlyn has fallen on the floor. The chair's legs are sticking in the air, she's tangled in a pretzel fashion crying mostly because they're old and mom is always having to glue them."I hate old things!" she says and the two nails that stick out the top are dangerous, so I move the chair and say, "let's put it here against the wall in the sun." Before long, the garage doors are opened, mom is home and my job is complete. The drive home is peaceful and I'm thanking God I'm not a young mother, those days were tough. The bill paying worries, schools, bullies and nobody tells us we feel our children's pain, nobody. It never ends, the emotional bonds we share with them. Oh! That reminds me, I need to call her to let her know I have an idea about my grandson's health. "Did you miss me?" we laugh on the phone because I've called too soon and then I remember my dream! It has to be shared, strange thing that it was. "Yes, you were an adult woman and a fourth grader! But the scary part was the haunted chair and the old lady that is attached to it." I go on. Silence. "Hello?" I ask. "Mother!"(that's what she calls me when she's annoyed with me) Is that why you put my chair in the window? Kaitlyn will be napping and I'll be home alone! Don't scare me! You know my dining room chairs are 100 years old." she says. "When you reupholstered them, weren't there layers of different fabrics and was one redish velvet?" I ask. It probably belonged to the woman who's attached to them. "So, what you're saying is, I need to get rid of these damn chairs and put some new ones on my Nebraska Furniture Mart credit card and all my problems will be solved?" she asks. The dream is making sense, it's becoming a symbol to me. My daughter's hair was curly in the dream, as in fourth grade. Her son is in fourth grade. They're putting their house on the market, the teacher is awful, her first year, a yeller and my grandson is suffering. Symbols tell us to pay attention, go back for a second. I ask my daughter to remember her fourth grade, forgive all the feelings in that year, this will clean the energy for her son's year. Sounds odd yes, but it heals. "Did your dining room table come with more chairs", I wonder. "Yes, but we keep those two in the garage, why mom?" she asks. "I think the woman loved those chairs, she wants you to be happy, put the chairs where someone can use them." "So, am I getting new ones?" "I'm sorry, I don't think so, but you're going to look on the bright side of things. Stop living in the shadow, everything needs light especially our worries." I tell her.
     Writing this story on groundhog's day is ironic. Some said no, he didn't see his shadow, others said yes he did! Either way, we are going to have six more weeks of winter, we're going to wear an extra scarf under our parka as my sister said last night and we're going to suck it up, carry on, be the sunshine, forget the past and be happy!
         ...shalalala lalalala, live for today, and don't worry about tomorrow, hey hey hey hey...Grass Roots ~