not a warrior anymore

photo by: aswirly

Tomorrow, at approximately 10:30 p.m., I will be celebrating my birthday -- the big 55.

I treated myself to a psychic reading today, so I am going to get all metaphysical ... which, actually, I do a lot anyway.

Jesse the channeler read my cards and I did like his reading. He told me my number was 10 (never been told a number before) -- the number of someone who looks out at the world through an observational eye -- someone on a soul quest. (Just realized my new age adds up to 10, as does my birthdate, the 28th.)

I have been a warrior in many past lives he said, and have just recently put this sense of power-in-play behind me. I've maintained a centre through strong changes. Recently, the shift to this centring has come from a childlike, rather than a warrior, position.

He says it may be why I chose Canada for this life -- to get away from battling. (I do believe in reincarnation and will probably be writing more about this.) I asked him if he thought I might move to Europe. He pulled out a card and said I had been intentionally breaking away from my moorings, and mixing things up.

Right now, I am facing a clean slate, and it is not clear where I am heading, but to be open to it with the playfulness of a child. I have been disciplined all my life, even as a child, and I have begun to face -- even serious matters -- in a more lighthearted manner. (Ignoring my last post, I guess.

Though I have almost given up on the romantic idea of finding a life partner, the cards, he says, tell me not to give up on that idea yet. At the same time, pointing to a card with a bamboo tree, on it, he says I have begun to stop comparing my life to that of other women, or other people. (In other words, releasing the romantic notion of husband, children, grandchildren -- and realizing that my often solo path is as valid in worth.) And to totally mix metaphors -- an oak doesn't even think of being a bamboo, or vice versa.

However, I don't think of myself as a bamboo tree, or perhaps any kind of tree. I suppose, if anything, I have associated myself with the chrysanthemum flower, which blooms vividly in the fall after the flowers of summer have gone -- a salutation in rhythm with the changing colours of the trees.

I have been packing things up, he says, getting ready for the next stage.

Not a bad way, at all, to start a new year.