Vision Quest
Monday, June 14th, 2010
I had a friend named Josh who went on a vision quest in his mid 20′s. It basically consisted of him hiking into the back woods of northern California, drawing a white chalk circle about 6 feet in diameter and then not leaving it for 5 days. He came back a changed man.
Usually, upon hearing stuff like this I start asking practical things like, “Where do you go to the bathroom?” But I refrained from inquiring about it and to this day it is still a mystery (and unimaginable). I have found that my inability to “go there” is limiting and I consider it a personal deficiency. I have heard that I can be a control freak – which pretty much defeats the purpose of a vision quest altogether. You are supposed to let go and let your mind expand. That’s difficult for me.
Sometimes though, I feel like my time here on Vashon is an exercise much like vision quest. My chalk line is basically where the sea meets the sand and I find myself constrained within it’s borders. Literally. I AM ON AN ISLAND. I don’t have a boat at my leisure. I can’t leave whenever I want. This fact has manifested itself in visions of me wanting to swim towards the shores of Seattle and is very disconcerting to me at times.
And like any vision quest, I definitely feel as though I am here to find out something about myself or to expand how I relate to the world or to have some sort of Freudian reenactment of my childhood in Coos Bay, Oregon. God only knows. But apparently I am not going anywhere for the next 3 years so I have time to have at least two or three emotional breakdowns before Paige graduates. This seems healthy. Now where can I get some peyote? Let’s get this vision quest rolling!
I am sad to report that in a weak moment on my quest, I had an energy reading at this place. Before you slap down your judgment and give me those raised eyebrows – Paige thought this would be something nice for us to do for this past Mother’s Day. And I, being the vision quest-ee (questor? questi?), was pretty much open to any experience that would convert hard earned cash into nothing tangible to show for it. Now THIS is the kind of mother that I am.
I will spare you the finer details of the whole 30 minute session with The Reader. Honestly, it’s really more of an “in person” story anyway where I can appropriately flagellate my hands in front of my body to demonstrate the process of reading one’s energy (no real touching is involved). I can’t say that I learned anything new about myself. After all, I always knew that my soul was rooted from the beginning of time. And oh, it is pretty obvious that I have superior wisdom and intellect as a result.
All in all, my takeaways from the experience were:
- My solar plexus is fucked up. I have no clue what to do about this.
- When she waved her hands in front my groin area, she said that there was definitely a man in my life – “A MAN’S MAN” in fact. Which now that I think of it, did she really mean a gay man? If that’s the case, I have plenty of those and it’s not surprising that she may have felt the presence of a gay man in my body. I too love men.
- When the energy reader looks at me, she sees a gerbera daisy.
- My daughter has an invisible gray dog by her side at all times.
- I should never agree to pay someone by the minute.
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