In 1990 my friend, K, convinced a “psychic” to come to Austin to meet with a group of K’s friends for a friendly event. Part of the deal was that the psychic lady would give readings for fee, but that K and I would get time at no charge to hear what the lady saw.

K called me when she arrived and I drove over. To my surprise, the psychic lady looked like a middle-adged house wife wearing a red-beaded, knit pant suit. I guess I had expected some sort of Halloween garb and a silky purple sequin scarf.

The people came; food was served; and the psychic lady spoke of what she did, and told stories of what she saw throughout her life. This psychic lady knew quite a bit about health and wellness. She was also well read..People asked questions about what they might expect.

One by one, people met with the psychic lady in another room. One by one, each person came out looking thoughtful and satisfied.

She then invited me to take my turn.

As I sat in the rocking chair across from her, I thought what an unlikely psychic she is. Then I thought she’s a highly perceptive, intelligent woman. maybe that’s what psychic is.

The woman started by saying that the first thing she noticed that day about me was that I was a person sho people misunderstood. She said that people often felt threatened by me. She was right, but I didn’t say that I had no idea why.

She asked me what color my feelings are.

“What color?” I stopped to think, but saw a color, a scene, immediately.

I said they are “indigo, blue-black — the color of the sky on the night of a starry, full moon, safe and beautiful like inside a mother’s womb.”

I wondered where that answer came from. It was true, but I’d never thought of it before. So, I’d surely never said it.

Then she asked, “Where do you carry them — your feelings?”

I closed my eyes and went inside my head to find the answer. I realized that my feelings weren’t in my body at all.

“I keep them right here,” I said, putting my hands like parentheses in the air next to my left hip. In a heartbeat, I knew the moment I had pushed them out there.

She asked the quietest, most powerful question, “What would happen if you moved them over, if you put them back inside you?”

I didn’t have to answer. I already knew I’d be whole again.

She said, “Now when you meet people, they won’t wonder what you’re hiding.”

She was right.

After that day, somehow people could tell.

We can change the world — just like that.
–ME “Liz” Strauss

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