She grabbed my hand as she took a drag from her cigarette, scuffing her house slippers on the faded carpet.
"You will have a long life," she said, smoke pouring out of her mouth. "I can see that you were an actress in a previous life. You were also a dancer." I looked at her wanting to burst into laughter, hoping my $25 would grant more than a glance at the broken life line on my right palm.
"You are confused. Your are struggling to find your creative energy." A child knocked on the door behind the woman. It was 2 a.m., was there really a child back there? Unphased, she continued to stare at my palm, then back into my eyes, translating my hand scarred from kitchen heat. Thirty minutes before this moment, the same hand held a Manhattan cocktail at The Jane Hotel. It was the same hand that pointed to the sign that read, "Palm Reading" on the walk home from the bar.
"You will find your energy, but it is hard right now during winter months. You are a person who feels very high and then very low, but you will see clarity soon." Though these visions seem overly general as I soberly reflect, I was genuinely impressed. Afterall, I have been feeling rather tired and unmotivated to write. It was making sense. I continued to listen.
"You will move to the West coast," she said, asking me if I'd been there. This was also odd because I had been discussing how much I'd like to experience living on both coasts. She continued to hold my fingers, feeling my "energy" and glancing at my palm.
"Are you in a relationship?" When I told her I was not, she smiled. "You will be soon. Someone is trying to get close to you. Let them." I sighed, thinking about the little time I have to devote to anyone but myself.
"You will volunteer a lot of your time between the months of March and June," she said. This was also strange. I'm starting an internship tomorrow that will end in March, and my hope is that I'll have another lined up in March.
"You need to meditate," she stated. My feeling is that this piece of advice, sober or not, really is true. I need to figure out what I want.
I then asked her, "How do I know what I want? I struggle between the idea of cooking or going back to my initial plan of taking my culinary background into writing or publishing."
"I honestly feel you will cook," she said, without any hesitation. "Meditate."
If this is the case, why am I so hesitant? Friends and family have been asking what it is I see myself doing after graduation, and the truth is, I don't know. I really don't. I wish I did. The repayment on loan for school is going to kick in as soon as I graduate, and New York City isn't exactly affordable.
I do feel lost. I don't see anything when I look ahead to June. I'm not used to these feelings. I like knowing where I'm going. I like having a plan. I don't go a day without making a 'to do' list, feeling satisfied whenever I'm able to cross something off the list. The feeling of uncertainty drives me nuts.
Do I decide what is it I want to do or where it is that I was to live? I feel like location plays a bigger part than it maybe used to. I'm dying to feel closer to my family. I can't wait to look at my window and see more than cars and concrete. I'd like to go to a supermarket and not feel like I'm getting elbowed in the aisles. It would be nice to not hear sirens every 30 minutes, 24 hours a day.
But this city is amazing. The energy, the variety of people and place to visit, and most importantly- THE FOOD. This is a foodie paradise! How could I not be completely happy here? I mean, I am happy. I have fun every day... but something is missing. I'm in New York City, I have great friends, a fantastic roommate, a flexible work schedule, and I get to go to school and cook. What a life! Something is still missing though and I can't put my finger on it.
Love? Is it a sense of pride? I know I'm tired of serving for a living. I'd like to put my degrees to use. I'd like to have evenings off once in awhile and understand what it means to relax on a weekend, but then again those aren't things I've ever expected. I knew going into this industry that free time would be a sacrifice.
I keep telling myself I'll just figure it out as I go, but then the pressures of the future come into sight. Where to live, who to live with, how to repay the loan... It all scares me.
Can I just have a sign? The feeling you get - an emotional pull, if you will. I'm not looking for a shooting star or real answers from a palm reader raising a family in the back of her spiritual room. I just want a hint, even if it's tiny.
