My intuition said, stop hiding your skills—integrate all of your abilities publicly. Then my friends said, “We’re having a Summer Solstice Party at the brewery, would you read tarot cards for customers?” I agreed, and this is what I learned.
I was worried about trying to connect intuitively to one specific person in a crowded public place. How was I going to make sure I was picking up info on the right person? As we brainstormed for the party, we agreed to set me up at a table in a recessed nook of the brewery. It was out of the flow of main traffic, so I wouldn’t have anyone to my sides or back—just the person seated directly across from me. As I set up that day, I set an intention for the space I was working in. Let me accurately and clearly interpret what the person in this space needs to hear for their highest and greatest good today.
My ground rules:
· No kids. 18 and up, because my skills aren’t a game. I’m not a side-show attraction, nor am I a babysitter.
· I’d only read for one person at a time. No one allowed to listen in or watch over shoulders. (Zoom readings had taught me there’s no telling what was going to come up for someone, and I think it’s the client’s right to choose who and what they tell about their readings.)
· No specific questions. With so many people in the room I was worried I wouldn’t be able to home in on specifics, ergo the decision to do every reading for the client’s greatest good.
The first person who sat down is a regular I’m friendly with, and I was relieved it was her—because it took me about five minutes to get all my jitters out. But after that it was game on, for the next 3.75 hours. I did at least 16 readings (maybe more, I don’t remember) and I learned so, so, so much.
My favorite part was the middle-aged white dudes who came up not knowing what to expect, and the moment their eyes bulged as I divulged some information that caught them completely off guard and had them looking at their relationships in a whole new light. (They were generous cash tippers, which was nice too.) The hardest part was the guy I thought would start bawling at the table, and me having to say, “I know this is a lot to take in. Especially in the middle of a crowded brewery.” My friend told me customers loved their readings, but also no-one would say what I’d told them in their individual session. Which was good confirmation that my one-person at a time rule was the right one.
My biggest take aways were:
1) I think it worked so well because I am comfortable at the brewery and feel very safe in that space. Also, setting the intention for the table worked really well. I didn’t have any problems tapping into the messages for the people in front of me.
2) I am accurate. Person after person after person gave me validation after validation. Three different people said, “This sounds just like my therapy session this week.” The accuracy validations were extremely helpful to me, because in recorded readings or over Zoom I don’t have that same immediate feedback.
3) 3.75 hours is too long. I hadn’t intended to go that long, and probably could have pushed myself to do a few more—but I’m really glad I didn’t.
One of the reasons I wanted to do the party is I wanted to see how my body would physically handle it. Because I’m an intuitive reader, it takes a lot of physical energy for me to do readings. Basically, I’m funneling all of my power into my HSP and synesthesia operating system for an extended period of time; it’s like running an intuitive endurance race. (This is different than non-intuitive readers who study meanings of specialized systems like tarot, or I-ching, etc.) I’d anticipated an energy hang-over but was curious how severe it would be.
Immediately following the readings (5-10 p.m. Saturday ) I was just extremely stupid and physically drained. I’d have to ask people to repeat things, would walk around aimlessly looking for things. Imagine extreme sleep deprivation and that’s close to the feeling. I made myself eat a lot when I got home, because it felt like I’d burned a billion calories.
Sunday, I slept two hours later than usual and woke up feeling like my brain had been bathed in bleach. Reading & writing (my normal morning routine) felt repugnant. Meditation was the only thing that was mildly appealing. As I meditated, I felt a clear split along my left (feminine) and right (masculine) energies. The feminine was cashed, and I felt energy pulling down into me, attempting to replenish what I’d tapped out the day before. It also felt like there were countless tiny hooks pulling at the edges of my brain, from all sides. (Think of a butterfly that’s pinned as a scientific specimen.) I consciously worked at pulling the hooks out, and as each hook released my brain relaxed. Once enough hooks were removed it felt like my brain could breathe again, and had its plasticity back/lost the rigidity of being held by all of those hooks. I did two one-hour meditation sessions before I left the house. While I was out, I got hit with a splitting headache and physically was just worn out, much like an alcohol hangover. I also wanted to eat a huge dinner. The best I could do is watch a shitty rom com & go to bed early.
Monday, I woke up with a raging sore spot in my left upper-back throat—maybe around the lymph node? And my left ear was bothering me. At least my brain was functioning though. I still had zero desire to touch any of the cards I use for the weekly intuitive readings. The best I could do was pull 7 cards for a silent reading & send those out to Patrons. Meditation was shorter, but only because I had clients. My left side energy still felt drained and like I could use a week in a quiet room alone. I’d assumed the sore throat was due to the readings, but at 8 p.m. I got a text message from a friend. (They’d had a node removed from their left vocal cord a while ago.) I responded to their initial message and then asked, “Is your left throat hurting again today?” They confirmed, “Yes, it’s sore.” Which made me wonder how much of Monday was purely a mirror-touch synesthesia (MTS) takeover. I did rally and write around 9 p.m. that night.
Woke up Tuesday and my throat was totally fine, & I was pleasantly surprised past me was smart enough to schedule an acupuncture appointment for 9 a.m. My acupuncturist is fantastic at helping me sort out what’s mine verses someone else’s, and confirmed the sore throat was 100% my friend’s via MTS.
I’m getting much better about asking “Is this mine?” when weird pains crop up out of the blue, but because I was so tired from the readings it didn’t even cross my mind to question any of my symptoms. Identifying who the symptom belongs to is the only way I’ve found to help the “sick feeling” clear my body faster. (The one other M-T synesthete I met said it was the same for her, and since there is fuck-all in research literature about this I just have to make my best guess about things.) It feels like, when I’m energetically drained it’s much more likely MTS will come in super loud. Perhaps my unconscious energetic boundaries are down, so there’s nothing to stop other people’s pain from coming in—especially if I’m emotionally close to the other person and they happen to be thinking about me at the moment.
Next time I do live readings I’ll cap it at 3 hours, see how my body responds and adjust again as needed. Hopefully, writing this essay will help me remember this boundary theory next time I know I’m in an energy hangover, and I’ll ask, “Is this mine?” as soon as new symptoms crop up.
I’m grateful my friends gave me the opportunity and am proud of myself for doing something intuitive so publicly. I feel like I really helped a few people and am much more confident in my skills—which was totally worth the physical price this time.
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p.s. Some new blogs up over at The CE Coaches website too.