SECTION FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Acceptance
April to June 2000
On April 4th, I had a reading with another of Zen Gallery’s readers. But unlike the one I had with Katrena, where I was able to just walk in and get one straight away, I had to book with Kerrie a month in advance. I couldn’t shake the feeling I had to make one for Kristen, too, and when I couldn’t get her on her mobile I made it anyhow. I laughed at something Mark said about synchronicity and walked to the rear of the store to look at books. Less than ten minutes later I spun around on hearing Kristen’s voice. Synchronicity indeed!
Kerrie thought she knew me from somewhere. We couldn’t work out were or when so she said it must have been in another lifetime. She told me I had female guides named Anika and Helena, and yet another standing further back. She said I wasn’t ready to work with that one yet, but as she spoke she said she drew closer. Two other guides will come forward when I am ready to progress on my journey. On examining my palm, she said I have progressed steadily through many lifetimes and that I was very psychic. When I asked what told her that she said I had the mystic cross on both palms, a “psychic whirl”, and a “witchy poo” little finger, all indicating great psychic ability. She went on to say I will be sitting in her place one day, that I’ll be a teacher and do more study, adding that communication is my forte. This will take many forms from verbal and written to spirit communication. She also said I have a mother or grandmother working with me in spirit, a short, white-haired lady. Mum!
The next day I did another mandala, only this time I added images, associating them with the four elements. In the centre was the Eye of Horus surrounded by lotus petals. On the upper left in the earth quadrant was Stonehenge. On the upper right in the water quadrant was a dolphin leaping above the ocean waves. On the lower right in the air quadrant was an eagle soaring above a grassy plain divided by a winding river. On the lower left was the fire quadrant in which the pyramids of Giza stood proud and regal amid the desert sands. Something was happening. I had no intention of doing anything remotely like that when I started. My dreams were different, too, and I kept waking up every few hours with songs playing in my head. As soon as I got rid of one another would take its place.
A few days after my reading with Kerrie I woke from a strange dream featuring Steve and me, and a stranger with dark skin. The stranger talked about his lives as a member of the dark races when he believed he should have been white, while Steve was dealing with “knowing” while not wanting “to believe”. I was watching deep water flickering under bridge boards and telling the stranger to “see it”. I told him to attend a spiritualist church. Steve and I then went to collect a table from somewhere that linked him with his spirituality and “knowingness”. I felt I could understand everything except the stranger’s obsessiveness with being dark skinned unless it was a metaphor.
When Tamara heard about my reading she decided to have one too. Because she needed hers after work she was able to get it a few days later. Kerrie told her she would be successful, that she’d travel, write, and do all sorts of other interesting things. She also told Tamara she would be a gifted psychic and that she had a Druid-like guide working with her. Among her many lives, some in Atlantis and Egypt, she had three powerful lives as a mystic. Two days later, Tamara gave her first clairvoyant reading for a workmate. She said she ‘felt’ aches in her body and sensed or saw things that were reportedly spot-on. She was so impressed with Kerrie she said she wanted to study under her one day.
Kerrie definitely struck a chord with my girls and despite being happy with my reading, I felt it wasn’t as informative as Katrena’s. Nevertheless, it seemed that no matter who I went to I couldn’t escape being told I will be doing readings myself one day. Whenever I examined my past lives through the Tarot as Katrena suggested, The High Priestess came up repeatedly, telling me of my many lifetimes as a mystic. But unless I could unearth why I was so afraid I knew I wouldn’t make much progress. Tamara was happy to jump in head first. Me, I wanted to tiptoe around the edges and try not to get wet. It was through these investigatory readings that I came to disagree with Paul Fenton-Smith’s assertion that The High Priestess was the card for Pisces. Arthur Waite assigned The Moon to Pisces, and that I understood only too well. What lay beneath the deep, dark waters of my subconscious mind? What was I so terrified of?
A snap rail strike on April 13th caught everyone unawares. Steve dropped Che off on his way to work as the strike didn’t affect the workshops, which was just as well because Che was still mad enough to do the unthinkable. The next day I got a sad email from Liz. The counsellor she and Don were seeing was killed in a car accident. She feared he would use her death as an excuse to stop. A few days later she was happy again because she had been accepted onto an online art gallery. Her life was a roller coaster of emotions and no matter how many readings I did for her I knew it didn’t auger well for she and Don, nor with she and Danuta, or she and James. We had been friends since high school, but there was so much about her I knew I would never understand. I was so grateful my children were born in Australia.
On Good Friday, Steve and I took Kristen and Tianni to Redcliffe for the Brisbane to Gladstone yacht race and market stalls. We passed up a Tarot reading as something didn’t seem right and stopped at a stall further along. We were amazed to find two audio cassette meditations by Kerrie, the lady we saw at Zen Gallery. As I had little money to spare I bought one, on chakras and spirit guides, while Kristen bought the other, on past lives and soul mates. I copied both so we each had two. The following night I woke in fright from a dream in which I was a white male running from a native male who speared me from behind.
On Easter Sunday, I learned I won 5th Division in the previous night’s Gold Lotto draw. I checked and re-checked the numbers to make sure I wasn’t mistaken as that happened the previous week. The extra money would help me out at the upcoming Mind, Body and Spirit Festival. As I was at Chermside Shopping Centre the following Wednesday, I thought I would cash in my ticket at a newsstand only to be told their computers were down and I would have to walk to the other end of the centre to the newsagency. When I got there I noticed several large stands of books on sale. I don’t know what possessed me to look through them but I did, and there they were, the rune-like stones I had been seeking. They were called The Eye of Horus An Oracle of Ancient Egypt. The price had been slashed to $15. I could barely contain myself. The trouble was I couldn’t afford to spend $15 of my $26 win or I wouldn’t have a reading at the festival. I must have stood there for ten minutes arguing with myself about the pros and cons of buying them. I couldn’t believe the cruelty of it all. On the back of box was the pyramid, the very stone I selected at Pani's table that day at the city hall. Somehow, I summoned the will to leave them behind and walked over to the cashier with my ticket. “It paid very well this week” the girl said to which I concurred as $26.95 was very good for 5th Division. When she gave me over forty dollars I told her she had made a mistake. “No, I haven’t” she said with a lilt. “You’ve won 4th Division. That’s what the computer says and the computer is never wrong.” The difference was the exact amount I needed to buy the stones. I was so grateful I cried.
The next day, when at the Geebung newsagency, I made a snap decision to walk around to the Lifeline shop to see if I could get some work shirts for Steve. I was a little wary of going there because on the previous three occasions I got a message I had to work there. I refused. Lifeline was an arm of the Uniting Church, the same organisation that ran the aged care facility I worked at. I had given them all they were getting. The first time I ignored the message I felt good; empowered. The second time I felt a little mean-spirited. Lifeline was, after all, in the business of helping the less fortunate. On the third occasion I decided my mother must be the one putting those thoughts into my head. Yet, on that late April day, I received no such message. Instead, I was confronted by a large sign in the window. Written on it, in bold black letters, were the words “Volunteers Wanted”. No! I thought to myself. I refuse! I categorically refuse! You can’t make me. I won’t do it. I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!
I found the shirts I needed and walked over to the lady behind the counter. The voice in my head was back, only this time it was less insistent which left me no longer certain my mother was to blame. Just in case, I steeled myself against a new onslaught when I walked out of the shop feeling proud of myself for not giving in. It was short-lived for a wave of guilt washed over me and I returned to inquire about working there. I was horrified to be given a ridiculously-detailed application form. What planet did these idiots come from? It demanded more information than I'd ever been asked to provide on a real job application. It was beyond ludicrous so I did the only thing I could. I threw it in the bin. Less than twenty minutes later I retrieved it, filled it out to the best of my ability, and walked straight back down the road to lodge it before I could change my mind, all the while telling my mother or whoever it was: This had better be good!
The next day I received a letter from Liz! It had been a long time since she had written a real letter. She was at her wit’s end with Don and asked me if Tamara and I could do reading for her about him. Any insight we could give would be helpful. She enclosed a recent photo of him. Interestingly enough, both Tamara and I picked up much the same thing, that there were correlations between Don and Danny when it came to behaviour patterns, a boy trapped in a man’s body. The only thing that helped Kristen out of her situation was Danny’s death. Neither of us saw that happening to Don.
On Sunday April 30th, I went to the Mind, Body and Spirit Festival with Kristen and Tianni. I had a good reading with a lady named Alia, yet it was nothing compared to the one I had with Pani. Alia said I am the mistress of my own destiny, but that I currently have a white Clydesdale and a black Arabian pulling my Chariot. I must get them to work together so I can move forward. The colours in my aura photo were similar to the previous year: blue, violet and pink. I was told I will excel in communication. There was that throat chakra thing again. From that first reading with Ann Ann to the reading with Alia very little had changed in the advice I was given about where I was heading. I just couldn’t see how I was going to get there. Tamara went the following day and said Alia was “the real deal”. Finally! I thought. I have mastered the art of listening to my intuition.
On Tuesday May 2nd, I was pleased to find a happier email from Liz waiting for me when I got to the library. She had moved back into the apartment and taken up transcendental meditation, despite knowing the marriage was over. She wanted me to pass on to Tamara that she was very impressed with her clairvoyant abilities. She’ll go a long way, she said. A week later she told me Don had left and they were officially separated. The same day Dana told me she was pushing for me to get the job as I had heard nothing. She said they are desperately short of staff and suggested I resubmit my application. The following Monday I got a call from a woman named Chris at the Geebung Lifeline shop. She wanted me to come in the next day. “What, for an interview” I asked, thinking that’s what followed such an absurd application form. “No.....to work......You did want to work here, didn’t you?”
I didn’t realise it at the time, but the next phase of my life had begun. Chris seemed very nice, but she wasn’t the store’s manageress. That lady was on sick leave. Chris said she normally managed the Bracken Ridge store. After showing me where to put my bag she introduced me to Gladys, a lady in her seventies. Days later I played tennis for the first time in years. It was wonderful to catch up with the old crew again and my ankle held up. On Saturday night, Tianni said Danny was standing behind Kristen the whole time she was talking to me on the phone. On Monday, at Dana’s prodding, I rang about the library assistant job and was told positions are filled on a “needs” basis and northside libraries had no need for extra staff. It wasn’t what Dana wanted to hear and within a week she was telling me if I do get offered a job to think seriously before taking it. She said she didn’t like the way the Council was running the libraries or treating the staff. So much about that week linked to the past that I wondered where it was heading.
On the last Tuesday in May, I began to regret my decision to work at Lifeline. Tuesday was the busiest day because that was when new stock came in. I was on my feet from the time I arrived to the time I left. I don’t know how Gladys coped with it. Chris wasn't there that day. The new replacement manageress, whose name was Anne, told me she didn’t know what was going to happen because the Geebung manageress was still ill and may not come back for some time, if at all. She said Lifeline couldn’t keep taking people from other stores. It wasn’t fair on them, their volunteers, or the people who came in.
On the first day of winter I went to Leigh’s place and ended up doing readings for her, her husband, and her daughters, neither of whom were present. One worked overseas. She had a good job in London’s financial district, but the reading indicated she was not happy and was considering leaving. Leigh’s husband was like a kid on Christmas morning when it came to the cards. We may have been looking into what lay ahead but none of us had any inkling where that day was to lead. The very next day Leigh rang to tell me her daughter rang the night before to tell her she was quitting her job! She’s going to Denmark’s Trinity College to become an English language teacher.
A few days later I woke from a strange dream in which I was on my way into town to participate in the Reconciliation March, which I was planning to do in reality. In the dream Steve, Tianni and I got out of an older style train carriage and followed the crowd to the meeting place. On the way I realised I had no shoes or bag, but I did have my purse so I went looking for a shop to buy some shoes. As I dragged Tianni along, the once familiar streets began to change to an older style. The more I walked the more lost I felt. Steve popped up now and then to guide me but before I got very far he was gone again. I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant so I drew a card. The High Priestess told me to use my intuition to decipher the dream’s meaning. To me, it was saying I must do my part to end the relentless cycle of poverty and displacement afflicting our indigenous people.
It was the largest gathering I had ever witnessed and I was glad to be part of it. All manner of people, of all ages and nations, marched as one voice of unity. Even in the sky, mingling with fluffy white clouds, was the word “Sorry”. It was a momentous day. The intractable conservative Federal Government just had to listen. John Howard had to say sorry.
On the first Tuesday in June, I spent more tiring hours at the shop. Anne was an interesting woman, but not much fun. She told me she didn’t think I would want to continue coming if the Geebung manager came back because from all reports she was a bit of a tartar. Too right, I said, I had had enough of that sort. The following Saturday I woke from another strange dream. My cousin, Claire, came to see me about an old letter written by her father (Jack Walsh) on a piece of cardboard confessing to stealing from my father. An old photo accompanied it. It was taken between 1956 and 1958, judging by the ages of my cousins. As Peter was also in the photo, I believed the dream referenced the Wilston house which had been stolen from Dad. It made me wonder how Aunty Glady was.
On the second Tuesday in June, I arrived at the shop to find yet another manageress. Esther had been taken from the Stones Corner Lifeline shop, which I thought ridiculous, especially as her absence left just one person to look after her shop. What was wrong with those people? I couldn’t blame her for being upset. Just after 10am, a woman named Julia walked in off the street and stayed the whole day. Gladys laughed at things said, something I didn’t see her do much of. She usually just came, put in her hours, and went home. When I asked her why she bothered she said it got her out of the house and gave her a sense of purpose. It was the best day I had had since starting there, but because of the Queen’s Birthday holiday on Monday, the ‘load’ didn’t come in. Before I left Esther asked me if I would mind coming in the next day to help with the sorting. I didn’t want to but I really liked Esther so I agreed. I worked till noon, then got the bus to Chermside library.
The following Saturday I went to see the musical Cats. It was my Mother’s Day present from Tamara. I thoroughly enjoyed it. On the way there I heard how her fame as a palm reader was spreading. Kerrie’s reading for her seems to be holding course. The third Tuesday in the month was very tiring. Chris, from the Bracken Ridge store, was back and not at all happy about it. That evening Roberta rang to tell me she’s off to Canada in a few weeks time. She said she hasn’t seen Annette at any of the physio meetings and thought it interesting. I had to admit, until she said that I hadn’t thought of Annette for some time.
On Sunday June 25th, I noticed a natural therapist had set up business in the old butcher shop next door to Lifeline. I could scarcely contain myself. Tuesday, I decided, was going to be very interesting. It was, but for completely different reasons. The first surprise was Anne. She was back. She said some cryptic things about the Geebung manageress, that she had not really been sick, and that she had “had a gutful” of the way her absence has been mismanaged by the “powers that be”. Towards the end of the day a man came in carrying several large black plastic bags. Anne told him he couldn’t leave them at the shop. He had to take them to the depot. He just stood there, tears filling his eyes as she said his mother’s life was in those bags. Anne relented. The remainder of the day was spent going through the poor woman’s possessions. When Anne found some Ian Gawler audio cassettes and some books she deduced the woman was a cancer victim and asked if anyone was interested in meditation. I put up my hand which interested Anne who wanted to know more about me. As I had my mini Rider Waite deck with me I did a reading for her which foretold great changes coming in November. She said it was a cruel twist of fate that on her last day she discovered I read the cards.
“Last day? But you’re coming back, aren’t you?”
“No.” she replied sadly. “The powers that be have decided to quell the growing rebellion by appointing a permanent temporary manager. She, whoever she is, will be here from next Monday.”
The rebellion she spoke of had been growing for weeks, but until then was believed to have fallen on deaf ears. As each new manageress had her own ideas of shop layout, and how stock should be displayed, the people who formed the bulk of the shop’s clientele complained to the hierarchy they could never find anything. They demanded something be done about it.
When I left I stopped next door to see what they had to offer. The lady I spoke to was very nice and oddly familiar. She was the natural therapist but said her business partner planned to run classes in the evenings. When I left I couldn’t shake the feeling I knew her. There was also something familiar about her partner, a person I hadn’t even seen. The more I thought about it the more I felt good about Sue but not about partner. What was it about her? Why did I feel the way I did? How could I form such a judgement when I hadn’t even met her? As it turned out I was right. Yvonne was the woman involved with the non-existent Reiki class at Bracken Ridge. By that time, I was also aware she was the same person who had written several articles in the old Silver Cord magazine I felt uneasy about. What I couldn’t understand was why an obviously nice person like Sue would tangle herself with a charlatan like Yvonne? Did she not know what she was like? Well, if she didn’t, she was about to find out.
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