October 5, 2025

The Psychic Fair

I start my day with the Psychic Fair. My higher self tells me, “You don’t need to go. You already have all the answers.” It’s true. Yet I can’t pass up a psychic fair. You never know who you’re going to meet, they could share something you haven’t heard from anyone else. Also, it’s good to go for a little chakra tune up. In the way I bring in my bike to my garage guy to get its chakras aligned, I find it’s not a bad time to go for a check-in myself. While I already have my personal “plug”, my right hand woman, back home, I feel it’s okay to explore and discover new ones. So I go.

I pay my entrance fee and do a quick walk around to get the lay of the land. Like slot machines at a casino, you never really know which one will land with you. You just have to feel out their vibe, their energy—and whether they’re open. Lots are already doing readings. I pass by a woman who has an empty lawn chair to perform reiki. I bookmark her. I like her hair. She has a big, long white wavy hair with rainbow gradients dyed in. I continue my loop around. As I write this, why is it giving people at a nightclub doing a full walk around to gauge who’s hottest to them? lol

Most are taken, so I return back to my bookmark. I ask her if she’s psychic. The reason is because I want to hear downloads. She says yes. Spoiler alert, she’s a very subtle psychic. She’s a reiki master, I wouldn’t say psychic.

She tells me that my crown chakra is quite open so im pretty tapped into my communication with Source, my guides, etc.. Check, that’s correct. My third eye, also wide open. She tells me I must be clairvoyant. Check. The only “not moving” ones were my heart chakra and solar plexus. “They just not moving. Now, if they were moving backwards that would be a little bit of a problem!” she chuckles. She says it indicates I’m still tied to a loss. We tend to think we’re over it, in the mind, but the body doesn’t lie. She says, we’re all usually tapped into the mind and the spiritual, but often we neglect hearing the body, which is speaks the loudest and clearest. I find that incredibly insightful. It’s another reminded to be grounded. I can tell myself I’ve healed, the shadow work has been done, I’m moving forward with an evolved understanding and rationalization of what went wrong, what lessons I can carry forward, etc. Yet there are clear signs in the body that say, “nope, we’re not done yet.” The attachment still lingers, and our body is so wise to point out that the emperor indeed is wearing no clothes.

The Water

I leave the fair because I have a symphony to catch. Thankfully it’s a ten minute bike ride. I ride the bridge over the water. I turn my head, pause, and get off my bike. I am in awe of God’s work today (as I am almost every day, to be fair). I realize that taking in the raw beauty of the sparkling is sometimes a more spiritually inducing experience than that provided by a spiritual fair.

The Symphony

I enter a beautiful symphony theatre. I feel like I’m in Europe.

I love seeing all the old seniors filling up most of the seats. They’ve been around, this is at least their 20th attendance. I especially love seeing the couples seniors. Still dressed so posh, as especially with the vintage theme revolving the fashion scene these days, I take notes.. Did I mention I’ve been really into brooches these days? 🙂

It’s beautiful seeing these beautiful senior couples. They’ve probably went on many dates to the theatre, and still hold strong doing that. Yet as they are listening, they are forming their own individual, unique opinions about it. There’s something about that.

After the first few numbers we go into intermission. I immediately hear the two senior ladies sharing their thoughts. It comes out with no hesitation: “Too disjointed. There’s no continuity.” I am pleasantly surprised by the idea that we can have thoughts about a beautiful orchestra. We can critique. And oddly I completely agree with her assessment.

After the second intermission, we are listening to some ethnic hip hop-esque riff by the strings. The previous interaction I eavesdropped tuned me to be a little more critical in a way. But with music, we’re not watching with stiff shoulders, ready to pounce with a crituque, per se. It just sounds right or it doesn’t. It’s an immediate cellular reaction. And this one was bad. Just bad. It was just a collection of jumbled noises. On the programme it’s described as “a melting pot of table-like dance rhythms, funky jazz riffs, and tonal clusers.” Tonal cluserfuck is the perfect way to describe it.

In the middle, the conductor gets off his piano (playing random keys the whole time by the way), and starts spitting gibberish into the mic, in a rap-like rhythm. Imagine a kid ironically mimicking what they hear as rap in a comical/satirical way. It was that for long minutes. Thanks, I hate it.

It was starting off so beautifully with Mozart, making me tear. Then it all went downhill. I wish we could just stick to good old reliable Mozart, I think to myself.

I wasn’t mad, really. I was biting down my tongue so hard trying to contain my laughter. It would have been so bad if I had laughed out loud, because internally I was exploding the whole way. My shoulders jolted a few times from trying to suppress the explosive laughter. Some might say, “the music got that big of a reaction out of you, then it’s art.” No, sorry, no. Comedy is indeed art in the same potency as music, but music should just..make sense to your emotions—for me at least.

What a terrible waste of talent, I sat there thinking. These amazing string players had to practice hours and hours of random jingles (jinlges is not even the correct word, as jingles have a fluid memory, this one was literally random noises).

When the programme finally ends I’m so curious what the seniors think.

I finally hear the same lady respond to my ask:

“Well that was different.”

Haha, indeed. “Different” is always the perfect, graceful public way of saying “it sucked so much ass I couldn’t bear to hear another second of it.” 🙂

I hear those behind me enter the chat.

“I mean, it is an incredible difficult piece that the musicians had to toil over.”

I personally don’t believe in enjoying music or art because of the technical complexity involved. I don’t care how much effort was put into the work, if it hits, it hits. I like Beethoven, but I also like mumble rap, sue me.