The Healer: Bali Journal #3

I am always looking for someone to see something in me, it is as if I am still wanting validation that I am special or unique. It is as if the feeling of others, the seeing of colors, the clairvoyance were not enough evidence. I always seem to need more.

We saw a healer. He had us drink coffee and some drank arak patiently waiting for the spirit to present itself to him. We wrote our names down on a list in no particular order and I crossed me legs thinking he would call us back into a room to talk one at a time.

“Jessica?” He asked, right there in front of the entire group. He was calling for me and I was first. I wasn’t expecting that, and yet I was. I held my breathe a little but and hoped I wouldn’t be embarrassed. He noted my many past lives (I was aware of at least four–the artist, the dancer, the shaman on the mountain top, and the mystic healer). He said I’d always has good health. Sickness here and there but never anything to keep me in the hospital or down for a long time. He said I would always have good health. He also remarked on a hospital stay of one night. I nodded my head yes to affirm he was right. Next he said I needed to open my own business. Entrepreneur! He said you can be a teacher and you can be like this *with a flat hand* but if you have your own business you can climb like this, very good economic. And he moved his hand upward as if going up a steep incline.

Your parents, you have okay relationship with them. It’s flat. They love you you love them, but your mother loves you more than your father. Your father, he would give you $10 your mother would give you $12. That right? I laughed and nodded. Oh Della. I packed your old brown bag and brought you to Bali with me and you weren’t content to simply stay quiet. You never are. I wanted to tell her because I thought she would get a kick out of it.

I thought about what he said and while he left to go talk to someone I asked the interpreter, “how does he decide the order of the readings?” The spirt tells him! He said. Porcha remarked on my demanding spirit. I laughed, it wasn’t a lie, my spirit is very keen on being heard and seen. But I take my cues. I was not looking to go first and yet there I was.

I listened intently to other’s readings watching their face to see how they made sense of the new knowledge. And I looked at him to see what I could pick up, nothing until he read. And even then it was dimmed. He was a vessel in those moments, not truly himself. Or maybe…yes. Yes he was.

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