Last weekend my pal Bev and I went to a new age/ alternative therapies open house. I'm a firm believer in Reiki, in fact my Mother is a reiki practitioner and worked wonders on me after my stroke, and I feel there's a place for many non-traditional forms of healing and well-being. While at this event Bev and I met with a shaman healer named Amethyst Moonbat Buttercup or something like that. She did a lot of chanting around me, calling to all the angels and spirit guides ("Yoda?") and ringing bells around my head while having me blow upon crystals. OK, maybe this was a bit much for me. Frankly, it felt a bit silly. But she told me that I'm waiting for answers and stressing that I don't have them, that I need to take a deep breath, relax and know that my spirit guides are with me still and the answers will come, in their own time. Great. She did say my spirit animal was a horse. That's a pretty good choice.
Before leaving I bought some white sage and was told that burning it in my house will rid my surroundings of negative energy. That would be good. Whether it works or not, it smells pretty good.
So last night I burned some sage and applied my green tea cleansing feet pads. And this morning I woke up REFRESHED, ready to take on the world! I would get Beck to school, run my errands, take care of some of those nagging tasks I've been putting off and still have enough time and energy to work on that book that has been laying stagnant in the back of my head for well over a year (ahhh, yes. I don't think I've shared that a few years ago I got a contract with a publisher to go ahead with a book about the village of Contoocook... but then the paper chase began for the adoption and that was that.) But I digress.
With a certain spring in my step, Beck and I headed to his school. I didn't even let the Frogger-like challenge of making a left hand turn onto Rt 3 make my blood boil, as it usually does. I finally caught a break and traffic, gunned it to catch up with the flow of traffic before the maniac behind me drove up into the bed of my pickup. Just before his school I decided to quickly check off another item on my 'to do list' and drop off Morgan's dance school payment. I pulled into the parking lot and reached for my check book... Hmmm, no check book. Where the heck is my check book? I started rummaging through the glove box, my purse, where the heck is it?! Getting annoyed and breathing heavily I sat up in my seat to find a cop car, lights and all, parked behind me. Since the dance school was closed I thought maybe they believed I was robbing it or something. This should be no problem. After making me sit in suspense (and hoping Morgan's dance teacher wasn't watching out the window) the cop finally arrived at my window. He asked if I knew why he 'pulled me over' I bit my tongue and refrained from notifying him that since I had already been sitting in this parking lot looking for my checkbook for a few minutes, he really hadn't 'pulled me over'. I know better than to start a conversation with a cop by pointing out he's wrong. I think I said something slightly coherent about being parked at the dance school at closed hours but that I needed to make a payment. He then explained that I was speeding (you know, 10 minutes ago, 3 miles down the road while attempting my morning routine of trying to turn left onto the busiest route in Pembroke!). He went back to his car, making certain to keep the lights flashing so that no one else in the empty parking lot would, I don't know, crash into us. Of course he made me sit there for 20 minutes while he apparently reviewed my long and complex history of my life of crime. I clung to the thought that I haven't gotten any sort of ticket since I was 17 (and even then I got a speeding ticket on a 3 mile down hill stretch in my 1980 CHEVETTE. I was slightly impressed that the little Shit-vette could even make it over 50 mph, albeit it was only possible with the assistance of gravity). I thought a warning would be sufficient, right?
Wrong. He handed me a ticket for $100! ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!!!!!
He gives me some attempt of kind words like, "try to get there in one piece" blah, blah, blah. $100! Happy Holidays!!
So I pull out to continue to Beck's school and my damn 'Service Engine' light comes on. Great. "Your only 9 months old truck!" I think, "you're too young for any service light to come on!".
I walk into Beck's school, late of course, mumble something about how Beck will be shouting stories about cops all day, thankyouverymuch. Get back into my truck, start down the road and now a little Exclamation Point (!) near the 'service engine' light is lit. "Shut up", I groan.
It's gonna take a lot more than white sage to rid me of the negative energies now! Think I'll try the Red Wine!