I turn to the man sitting next me, I am the only one that can see him and hear him. Most days I convince myself that I am imagining him, my loneliness with a depth so great it has built me a friend that only lives in my imagination. Other days he responds in ways that surprise me or answers things that I didn't know. Maybe I am crazy-, I hear a laugh leave my throat that surprises me. I look around to see if anyone noticed. But I am still alone on the jetty.
Roger- the name he introduced himself as to psychic who introduced me to him and informed me that I had a ghost walking with me through life- I drove all through the East Coast. Why didn't anything extravagant happen? I sigh as the disappointment settles inside me.
Rachelle- Roger is Italian, not my words the psychics, and when I hear him speak it's a pretty heavy accent. He always says my name in Italian- I am not a magician, I could not hop in bodies and move them and speak for them to do extravagance.
A cold gust of wind cuts through the layers of shirts I am wearing, and the sun's warmth on my face gets whisked away with the wind. I tighten my hug on myself, I guess to keep the rest of the gust from wrapping all the way through me.
Roger, I am ready for a change right? Am I really not happy? I have this hole that I have been trying to fill for so long, I can't even remember when that part got taken from me. Was it the move to Mt Shasta when I was Eleven? Getting ripped from my home that I loved? How could I do that to my kiddo now? What if I tear a hole in his being, and he spends the rest of his life searching for it?
Rachelle- there is much to be done here before any moves happen. I need you to remember the details of how your parents move unfolded. They did not even have a home to move you to, until most of your home was packed. They made you throw away most of the items you loved, while keeping dried foods from the 70s. It is not the same. It could not be the same even if you tried.
If it the ocean that calls to you then you need to listen. Heed the less then extravagant nudge. You must focus though on working in an area that sparks your soul to live. You have been healing well, from the traumas of the past, but it is time to take the next step in that healing journey.
Roger, what is that step?
I sit in silence, as I wait for this pseudo imaginary voice to speak to me, as the ghost of this handsome Italian man sits next to me staring into the ocean.
You must write- he shrugs , that is it. And study I guess, that too- he says with a smile.
"Study what?" I ask. There are soooo many classes. I can't take them all.
Nor can you Rachelle. You could not get into all of them if you wanted. Some are expensive, or far away, or require other classes first. You must focus. He says with emphasis..his hands motioning through the words.
I look over at him, sometimes he is so clear and others like now, he's barely there. Only when I am not looking directly at him can I see him. I look back to the ocean and I can see him clear in my periphery.
Ok, find ten classes you want to take that start in June. Doesn't matter where or cost, then narrow down from there. Find alllll the possibilities Rachelle. Bring them to me and we will sort them out together.
He reaches over to move the hair out of my face. A gentle warm breeze moves it for him. And then he is gone.
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