The Trumpeter in the Woods
Chapter Seven – Looking for Answers from Others

The transpersonal psychology study group was a collection of interestingly diverse characters brought together at that point in time to learn, share and grow. As well as bitch, moan, complain and bicker. Some days, it was like a group psychology session. Actually, every session was like this. We had come together in this group because we were looking for change in our lives and if they were anything like me, they were fighting it the whole way. Kicking and screaming. Change is tough. Most of us would rather run back to our comfort zones. Even if our old patterns are painful, at least they are familiar. But our group facilitator was not letting us retreat. He was pushing us along with every session. I was learning new things and becoming more and more like the woman I had met in New Jersey who gave me The Celestine Prophecy.

One Sunday, a woman in the study group announced to us that she was a psychic. As a skeptic whose only exposure to people claiming to have clairvoyant powers were the gypsies in storefronts with neon signs; I was not a believer but I was intrigued. The group facilitator confirmed that she was truly gifted with the ability to know what was happening in others’ lives and accurately saw the future. Being a very private person, I cringed at the thought of someone being able to read my thoughts. I tried to burrow unseen into the brown tweed sectional sofa and hide my head behind my friend, Susan. Marie the psychic proceeded to go around the room to each of us, with permission, and gave some predictions. It was my turn and I had to admit I was curious about what she would predict. I agreed to let her talk about what she saw in my future.

“You’ll be going into business for yourself,” Marie smiled intently at me. “It’s going to be successful, however, the progress would be very, very slow.” Hello, turtle!

I filed this information away for another time, not totally convinced of her credibility. Eventually, she and I became friends and over the next few years, she would do “psychic readings” on me. I was searching desperately for answers from others to help give me some comfort, and not yet looking to myself or to God. Where was my shortcut to enlightenment?

I found someone else to be my crutch in the study group. The co-facilitator of the group was an astrologer. One entire Sunday session was spent on how astrology can be a tool in our path to self-awareness. She too gave each of us a personalized reading.

“I see you as a healer,” Pat proclaimed. “I also see you speaking in front of large crowds.” Hello again, dolphin!

Once more, I was quite skeptical because it was not something tangible that I could imagine. I’m a Doubting Thomas and that which is invisible must work extra hard to prove its existence to me. Throughout the coming year, despite my skepticism, I called on this astrologer in addition to the psychic. I was hoping for someone to show me the way, my path to happiness and security. Because I was squirming in the middle of this massive life change and it didn’t feel very good. I read my horoscope religiously, looking for signs that my breakthrough was imminent. Anything to give me relief from the discomfort of my personal metamorphosis.

Neither of these women knew of my desires or the results of the Soul Purpose Workshop – that I was destined to be a communicator. But both of them saw me in some sort of healing capacity, helping people. And the topics of animals never entered the picture despite the fact that I was immersed in learning pet massage.

Content and title copyright Christine Palm Shaughness. No reproduction allowed.

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