Old Soul

He had always thought there was something very special about himself, that he would become famous as an astronaut or explorer, or otherwise leave his illustrious mark on the world. 

Throughout his childhood, he had endured difficulties articulating his great importance.  He tried, of course, by way of drawing crayon pictures in which he portrayed himself as the largest of the stick people, sometimes even larger than a house, with his hair touching a purple sun, but it wasn’t always easy.  He certainly believed himself to be a person of significance, and just before he turned forty-two, a palm reader confirmed it. 

Her name was Tetyanna, and she came highly recommended by the advertisement in the Yellow Pages.  Her apartment was small and stuffy, but it was tidy enough.  The walls were papered with motivational sayings.  You can do it!  If it’s to be, it’s up to me!  I am responsible for my life!  I create my own reality!  These notes were on every surface of her apartment.  It was a monument to the starving new age entrepreneur. 

She led him to the kitchen table and asked him to sit in a chair against the wall, so that his right arm rested comfortably on the table.  She lit some candles, explaining that the fire attracted the spirits, enabling her to correctly predict his fortune.  He was enthralled.

They agreed on a price, twenty-five dollars, for a palm reading and a prediction.  For an extra three dollars, he could have it all recorded on a tape cassette.  Twenty-eight dollars total.  It was a special price, given not just to anyone, but only to important people, such as himself.  But he only had twenty-five dollars. 

“Let’s start with your character, Paul, and see what kind of man you are,” she said, taking his hand in hers and then aggressively rubbing her palm against it.  To clean out the grime and filth, he assumed, to make his palm easier to read.  When she was finished rubbing, he could smell chicken. 

She peered closely at his hand. “You are a good person, good to people.”  She looked up at him to see, perhaps, if he would confirm what she had said.  A little nod.  An imperceptible smile.  These were the things that validated a fortune-teller’s words, just as a tensing of the body might indicate she was heading in the wrong direction.  He told himself he would only acknowledge the truth.  But he couldn’t help feeling that she was correct.  He was a good person.  And yes, good to people, too. He nodded. 

“You are very intelligent and have a good imagination.  You have a bit of a writer’s fork.”

“A writer’s fork?” he asked, sounding more excited than he had planned.

“Yes, you can see things in the real world as well as in the imaginary.”

Yes, of course.  That sounded a lot like him. 

“You are brave and have strong willpower.  And you like to travel, having taken as many as two trips overseas.”  She looked up at him for the last part, and he nodded enthusiastically.  He had indeed been to England once, and had at least thought about another trip overseas.  She must have read his mind.  She was brilliant!

She pointed to a line on his palm, causing him to lean forward with interest.  “Your head line is strong, which means you have superior intellect.” 

He nodded.  He’d known it his whole life. 

“You see things more in the short term than in the long term.  You have good imagination,” she said, startling him by suddenly grabbing his left hand and looking at the palm.  “And it looks like you came into this world with good imagination.”

She explained that, unlike the right hand, which dealt with the present and future, the left hand showed her what he came into this life with from his past lives.

Past lives?  He liked the sound of that.

“You have an inspired imagination; you’re very gifted.” 

He would have blushed if it wasn’t so true.   

Tetyanna sat up, closed her eyes and stretched, shaking her head to clear her mind.  She popped her eyes open, shocking him, and said, “So, Paul, are you ready for your prediction?” 

He nodded eagerly.  Yes, he was ready. 

She held both of his hands in hers, looking first at his right palm, then his left.  Seemingly confused, she looked at the right again, more closely, and then back to the left.  Hers was an expression of delight.  “Paul, you are an Old Soul, likely going back a thousand generations.  You are highly evolved, mentally and spiritually, and you have a lot to offer other people.  You came into this life an old soul!” 

She looked up at him, her eyes tearing.  “You are, Paul, what the Hindus would call an Ascended Master.  You didn’t need to come into this life, but decided to come to the physical world only to help people.  This is something that is so very, very rare. It is my honour just to share this space with you. I predict you will do great things in life and leave another great legacy.”  She dabbed at her swelling eyes with a tissue. 

Tetyanna told him many other things, something about a long lifeline, good karma, and a great career.  She could see from his palm that his love line was problematic, but she never mentioned it. It wasn’t good business to leave a customer worrying.  It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because he wasn’t paying attention.  He was still focused on the bit about the Old Soul.  The thought that he may have lived other lives, perhaps many other lives, was intriguing.  And exciting.  He truly was important.  He was an Ascended Master, after all!

Shortly after he left Tetyanna’s apartment, his wife called.  “Did you pick up the diapers yet with the money I gave you?” 

He tried to explain about his fortune.  About his great importance in the world.  About his destiny.  About being an Ascended Master

But she would have none of it.  She had already endured enough.  “If you’re not home in an hour with diapers in hand, don’t bother coming home at all.  Your son and I don’t need you.” 

He didn’t have any money for the subway, so he sat on the curb, closed his eyes, and tried to transport himself and some diapers home telekinetically. 

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