The twist being that I didn’t actually make this post. I wrote the post which was supposed to be the follow up to this one, but I never got around to actually putting it up on the blog. So here is the Throwback Thursday Post that Almost Never Was.
At times I find that my life here in Salem is similar to the journey of the young wizard from The Last Unicorn. When he tried to force his will upon the magic, the magic failed him. When he allowed the magic to flow through him, he achieved the desired result.
When I first arrived in Salem, I was homeless and without a lot of prospects besides my agenda and a lack of patience. I proudly declared my presence to shop owners and their employees, in spite of my obvious transiency and I’m some sure some of them were just being polite by not rolling their eyes. After a grueling year in 2011, I surrendered my dream of joining the ranks of the Salem psychics.
Every once in a while, I would truck out the cards, reading for friends and roommates, coworkers, or the occasional online forum member. When I found a job and a place to live in Danvers, I left Salem with the intention of leaving all of my baggage behind. But the bug was still in my ear that I wanted to make a living reading tarot cards.
It all came to a stop in the beginning of 2012. I had arranged a phone reading with someone who had requested a reading through Freecycle, or some similar site. Before the reading, I went to the Walnut Cemetery and sat down by the little pond and did a simple “spell”, thinking it would help me clear my thoughts so that I could read for this woman. The spell was this:
“That which does not serve, I put into the ground.”
Halfway into the reading, I realized that I wasn’t connecting with this woman. I had hit a wall and without a word, I hung up the phone and blocked her number. I never went back to the site.
I believed at that point that my psychic journey would forever be restricted to my own path and for a while I took comfort in that. After all, I could see my own lines pretty clearly and accurately follow the signs to keep from making the mistakes that cost me my first living establishment in Salem.
On a visit into Salem sometime in September, I stopped into the Remember Salem shop. My Facebook friends affectionately know this as the Harry Potter store for reasons that become clear if you follow this link. Though I had not lived in Salem for nearly six months, the owner gave me the “local” discount for a bottle of butterscotch beer.
Thinking I was just lucky, I politely thanked him and went into one of the shops further down Essex Street. The lady there who had never met me before and had no special reason to recognize me, also gave me a local discount.
When I had tried force my way into Salem, everything failed. But once I had achieved a balance with everything and put the negative feelings behind me, the spirit of the city that called to me as a teenager, asked me to come back.
For three more years, my time was divided between my job in Danvers and my life in Salem. Working in Danvers kept me from feeling negativity towards Salem. Of course, that all changed when I tried to work inside of the walls of Salem, but that’s not what this post is about. A few major things happened in my life recently. I began volunteering for the Salem Film Festival and much more recently I have begun partaking in the events that put me contact with a new and ever changing circle of friends.
It was with the idea of meeting people and trying to keep that positive interaction going that I finally decided to go to Omen and participate in the Tarotfest meeting on Sunday. Although I was afraid to go there at first, because I had misplaced my tarot decks. I didn’t realize this until an encounter with a local Salem psychic who happens to be friends with John, rekindled a passion I once thought was gone. But when I went to find my tarot deck, it seemed to have evaded me and I figured I must have left it at Bridge Street where it had been promptly thrown into some sort of garbage bin along with anything else I left behind.
That night, I called. The lady who responded insisted that it was no problem. Later at the meeting, as we were introducing ourselves and describing our tarot decks and favorite tarot related books, I simply explained what deck I used. While everyone had brought technical non-fiction books about tarot, I spoke of a fictional manga series called Tarot Cafe and explained how one of the scenes in the series was very similar to my train ride from Albany to Boston way back when I first came to Salem.
When everyone was done introducing themselves, the lady who organized the event explained that the only reason they stipulated that participants should bring tarot decks was so that they could assure that people were actually coming to this meeting with the intention of discussing tarot. She didn’t want someone just showing up to kill a couple of hours, or eat free food, which was a legitimate concern considering where Omen is located.
After the meeting, convinced I wouldn’t find it, I went upstairs to where my totes are located to see if I could find my tarot deck. Right inside of the first bin I opened, I saw the blue cloth with the snowflake motif that I had purchased long ago in South Burlington at Candles and Creations. Sure enough, the Melanie Gendron tarot deck that I had later purchased from Omen back in October of 2011, when my luck was finally beginning to turn.
If it were a snake, it would have been forced to leave Ireland.
Five years ago, I tried to force my way into Salem’s psychic community. Now, with the blessings of that very spirit of Salem that invited me to return, I am being invited to participate with the psychic community.
Let’s see where this goes.