Say What!

I’ve always wanted to visit a physic. Why would I want to wait for my life to unfold, when I can go to a physic and get lied to about how it will supposedly turn out. You know me, I LOVE surprised, but come on, who doesn’t like a hint every now and then, so when my boss told me about her friend going to and Indian Shaman, I suggested we try it out. Granted he’s not a physic but hey, I thought it would be interesting and what better day to do it on then Friday the 13th.

To my surprised my Indian Shaman wasn’t an Indian at all, but actually a pale face. He started out by giving me an overview of his previous lives as an elk and an African-American slave and explained some stuff about energies and shockras( or something like that, I was a little distracted by the decorative beer cans lining the walls and fireplace). He then took me into a room with a table similar to ones used for massages. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't this.

I laid on my back on the table and closed my eyes as he proceeded to shake a rattle over my body and call the spirits from the four corners of the earth to be with us. I guess they showed up because he apparently saw a rope tied around my ankles that he said was holding me back. He “symbolically” cut the rope after spitting something on it that smelled strangely similar to Brute cologne. He spit the same stuff on my right hip where he said he saw the forceful imprint to of a hand. He interpreted this hand print to me as a representation of sexual abuse. I think I would recall if sexual abuse had happened to me, which I don’t, so he explained that it must have been in a previous life… of course, that would explain why I’m a wall builder in this life.

That pretty much ended our session. He did advise me to go home and take a bath with salt to clean out the “surgical wounds” from the cutting of rope and hand print removal, you know, so they didn’t get infected. Hope a dip in the swimming pool counts.