It has been several weeks since my aura reading was graciously given to me by Pearl and it’s that length of time that degrades something exciting into something that keeps getting pushed off. I have four pages of notes from the hour and half long session which has sat on my shelf and has been glowering at me because somewhere there was a scribble that said, “Blog this.” Cat pictures seemed so much easier.
But now, faced with the voice that says, you should be preparing the conference PowerPoint, or reading about psychoanalysis, or start reading that damned Critical Cyber-culture Studies book, so I might do the review that is due on Friday… blogging this seemed to be so much saner of a choice.
This is a long one. I warn you.
Quick explanation of why I was doing this: I met Pearl at the Blogher conference in Chicago in July. She was the last person I spoke to during the hellacious round of speed-befriending, and really, the only person I met in that 45 minutes that had any genuine sincerity. She’s currently doing her dissertation in English – which tickled the young padawan in me – and as the people in the conference hall petered out, we were still chatting. We exchanged cards and she read the bottom inscription, paganquill.com, and remarked, “You’re Pagan?” I nodded and she flashed a smile and said, “Let me give you my Other Card.” So not only was she Pearl, drummer in a band with a dissertation on the side or vice versa, she was also a clairvoyant – very cool.
After my Dad died, she offered to do a aura reading for me. At best, I’m a skeptical Pagan, at worst, I’m a very bad Pagan – D terms this Sunday Pagan – which led to the question like, “Um, what’s that?”
So quick review, that I’m taking from my notes and probably mangling, we have seven layers to our auras, those being: the survival layer, the emotional layer, the action/energy center/astral layer, the heart layer, the communication/creativity layer, the clairvoyance layer, and the knowing layer (To be funny I should call it the epistemological layer, but I won’t because fancy book learnin’ ain’t appreciated in these here parts sometimes. I’m looking at you, K).
I’m not going to structure this in any real order, but noting humor and insight I gained. I can see this becoming long and distended, only interesting for stalkers and my Mom. For those of you tuning out at this point, let me first say that Pearl does readings and if you’re interested please contact her. She was great and answered my questions clearly and thoughtfully, even when I interjected nonsense like you’ll see below. So go get a reading already!
“I see you in a room, the chairs in a circle…the teacher, a man, stands at the front…pontificating, very academic, and yet you’re doodling…It looks like you’re drawing castles on the paper.” This sounded like my Modern Rhetorical Theory class. I haven’t quite drawn castles before, but I have known to do a little shading of my notes. Pearl went on to describe images of me in various campus activities, walking around with a backpack through a mirage, that I wasn’t getting closer, nor farther away – that I was essentially spinning my wheels.
“I see you sitting at a desk in a library – ”
“I love libraries!”
“And you’re surrounded by a pile of books. It’s like you’re on the last one and you close it and look around expectantly, like, ‘Now what?’ As if all that were all well and good, but it didn’t really tell you anything new. You weren’t going to find the knowledge there. You get up and leave all your things on the table; you’re backpack is empty when you walk out away.”
“You’re just tired aren’t you?”
“Gods to heaven, no duh.”
“I mean, there is this immediate sense of drain looking at your energy. That you could just sleep for days and weeks and not wake up for a while. Your energy is stretched very, very thin.”
She laughs, “I don’t know why, were you ever Catholic?”
“Well I see you as an image of the Sacred Heart, and then below it is an image of you, looking up at this caricature of yourself and laughing at it. As if, this is what you present to the world, but it’s not you at all. You play the virginal person, the martyr, but you know full well that this isn’t really you.”
“This is what others seem to see though.”
Pearl mentioned that the energy of where I lived was not right for me. The Southwest has this hazy blur of spirituality that I recoil from, that it unsettles me. “There is something more ancient you’re after, something with a wealth of information that you cannot access here.” She continually framed the reading with my journey next year to Europe. “It’s like you’ll be picking up pieces of yourself that has been scattered and lost. Things that you had in another life, knowledge that you had, bits of your soul, and taking it back with you in this life.” She saw me on a bridge with a rucksack and a map. “There is this blur, where to go? You open the map and circle all of Europe. You look around and the decision is yours and it’s all open.”
In another life, I was a Grecian artisan who worked with leather.
“So how about the man you saw in my emotional space?” I ask.
“What about him?” She replied.
“Um, I’m not sure exactly who you’re taking about. As in, there could be more than one.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed.
“Well I see very tall and lanky – ”
I broke in, “Okay, we’re good now.”
Slightly bewildered, “– And he’s a student?”
“Yep. I’m good on who it is.”
“Oh. Hmm. Well… I come toward that image in my mind and I feel him step in front of me. I see his energy wrap around you, possessively almost, and you’re inside trying to push it away, bracing his energy with your hands.”
“That doesn’t seem good.”
“It doesn’t look good.”
“Yeah, I need to work on that.”
[Current Update: Done and done.]
“You’re corded with your mother.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It doesn’t seem bad. It’s just that her energy is all over the place and I don’t want to read her – I want to read you! So I’ll move it aside.” Later she said, “It’s a matter of support through the grief, but also she wants you to know how she knows. She wants you to think more like her.”
She explained the pallor of grief, and when I asked if it was his spirit, “He’s not there – he’s already in his next step. He’s already passed on. You’re carrying the grief of the idea and of the person, not of the spirit.”
She told me at the beginning I was yellow. At the end I asked what that meant and she meant that I was skeptical and guarded about the reading. What she didn’t know is that when she said, “The very first thing I see is a dog sitting in front of your space – protecting it, long floppy ears, dark coat. He’s friendly and passive, but I’m going to have to move him for a minute in order to see you.”, I thought, ‘I’m sold. I have an aura puppy.’