My children were less than thrilled when they discovered I had visited a tarot card reader. They are a skeptical bunch, armed with statistics and logical explanations for the peculiarities of life. I had tried to keep it a secret, slipping away in our small town, but fate intervened, and I had to come clean.
Looking back, it’s clear that my fascination with the mystical has deep roots. Ever since I learned to read, I was captivated by the little house on the hill marked “Fortune’s Read.” It seemed to beckon me during our drives, especially on busy days when my mom took shortcuts to avoid traffic.
At the County Farmers’ Fair, I would gaze longingly at the fortune-telling booth nestled next to the pie stand. My parents, however, were oblivious to my yearning as they guided me toward the quilts. “Aren’t they beautiful?” my mom would ask, but my thoughts were far away, pondering the mysteries of fate.
I felt that there were places where answers to life’s uncertainties could be found, though my practical family kept me grounded. They preferred canning vegetables over contemplating the cosmos, leaving me to navigate my curiosity alone.
As a teenager, with a little independence and some pocket money, I finally took the plunge. Friends and I ventured into a palm reader’s booth at the boardwalk. My heart raced as I placed my hand in hers, wondering if she could reveal whether my life would be long or if I would find love. The anticipation was intoxicating, and I scribbled her insights, tucking them away like a talisman against future misfortunes. She assured me I would live a long life, which brought me some comfort.
Years rolled on, and the uncertainties of everyday life still gnawed at me. I once believed that if I could answer the big questions about love and family, I would find peace. Yet, that elusive tranquility remained out of reach.
Recently, during a walk with a friend who shares my affinity for serendipity, I learned that the local tarot card reader was back in town. Intrigued, I felt drawn to seek guidance about my current crossroads. After all, if the tarot could provide insight, why not give it a shot?
I scheduled the appointment, carefully marking it on our family calendar with initials to avoid any teasing from the kids. On the day of the reading, I noticed a man in a suit exiting the building, which oddly reassured me—perhaps it made my visit seem more legitimate. Still, as a feminist, I felt conflicted about needing such guidance.
Seated at the table across from the reader, I shuffled the cards, heart pounding. He offered to record our session—another sign of credibility. I felt a familiar rush of excitement as he began to articulate the influences shaping my life. When he invited me to ask questions, I hesitated but mustered the courage to inquire about my life’s purpose. Time felt precious, and I was eager to find direction.
He spoke of the moon and how it was an auspicious time to seek answers from the universe. I hung on his every word, but my practical side took over when I asked how to articulate my desires. His patient guidance was reassuring.
Leaving the reading, I felt invigorated, armed with a plan. At home, I carefully crafted my seven requests for the universe, as the reader had suggested. It took several drafts to articulate my intentions clearly. Finally, I decided to place my list on my dresser by the window, the closest spot to the cosmos.
As I waited, I reviewed my intentions daily and lived with purpose. A week later, something remarkable happened that felt eerily aligned with what had been foretold. I couldn’t help but share my excitement with my kids, hoping to instill in them a belief in the magic that might exist in the world.
I want them to understand that there’s something special about the moments we openly declare our dreams to the universe. Whether it’s simply our own determination propelling us forward or something more mystical, I love the possibility of magic in life.
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In conclusion, embracing a little magic doesn’t just offer hope; it invites the possibility of transformation into our lives.