I’m a light sleeper and even with my ringer off and my phone set face down I tend to be aware that I’ve received a call or a text. Honestly I don’t think it has anything to do with being psychic, though. Instead I think I’m just more in tune to the electronic current. It was 6:00 AM and my alarm was about to go off when I felt the nudge to pick up my phone only to see it light up with a text from a local number that I didn’t recognize.
“Kristy,” it read,” I need to see you this morning. It’s important.”
No name. No other information. For a moment I thought of ignoring it, but they included my name so I thought maybe it was someone who had gotten a new number, or maybe my phone decided to junk someone’s number. Maybe. For a brief second I was irritated that there was a text at 6 AM, but I replied with the standard, “Who is this and say again?”, got up and started my day normally, checking back on my phone every so often, but there was never a response.
I had a long day of office sessions and only a 10 minute break in between where I gobbled down a sandwich and iced tea and scanned my phone for any emergencies when someone pounded on my office door, the kind of pound that makes you wonder if you should just hide pound, but I didn’t hide, I answered it.
“I can’t believe you,” the lady started as soon as I opened the door. “I text you for an appointment this morning, and here you are right here and a total disregard for putting me in. How dare you?” She stared down at me, wagging her finger in my face. “Who do you think you are? You think you’re special? Nobody even knows who you are, you know that, right? And nobody is going to care to care who you are after I get done.”
I tried to get a word in, but each time I tried she flailed more insults and I must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights.
“You don’t do psychic fairs, even. I bet you pretend to be more busy than you really are. That’s what I think you do,” she huffed. “Well, thanks a whole lot. You say you help. You say you are a healer, but whatever…”
“Are you done?” I quietly asked, holding my hand up in protest.
“No, but you are done. It’s you that is done,” she swung on her heels and walked towards my lobby where my next clients were standing uncomfortably witnessing the drama.<
I quickly ushered my clients into my office with an apology, and decided to do something I thought I would probably regret – I followed her trail of heel clicks to the front parking lot and taking a deep breathe (the kind a mom takes when she knows she’s going into the lion’s den, also known as her child’s room and the child has been throwing a tantrum).“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” I called out. “I’m sorry you feel disappointed in me, and I’m sorry your day didn’t go as planned. However…being a storm cloud doesn’t bring out the sunshine to anyone, mostly to you and I think you deserve some sunshine just like I do.”
I squinted as if waiting for her to punch me, but instead she fell into my arms and started to cry.
Her name was Cassandra and she was having a bad week and the only way she thought she’d feel better was to make me have one too, but I didn’t allow it. I didn’t react the way she’d hoped, but I did react the way she needed.
The last month I’ve witnessed more than my share of backstabbing and storm clouds. I’ve seen family tear each other apart and best friends cut one another down. I’ve seen strangers spout hate. I’ve seen the strongest people feel spent, and the happiest most positive unable to shake the sadness. I’ve seen those who hold everything together for everyone else fall apart. The energy has absolutely been unkind, but there’s a lesson in this as with everything – don’t react. Don’t say you are sorry if you really aren’t, or if you think that the sorry will simply be a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Be authentic. Be you.
I’ve never been one who liked following the crowd, and some have seen that as not being a participator or a team player. Some have even called me a snob, and I’d be lying if I said that never hurt. In reality I’m actually very shy. I much prefer one-on-one than a crowd. I prefer writing than a phone call. I don’t like small talk, and would rather something more meaningful. I’m a deep thinker, an over analyzer, and mostly a dreamer. I’m also learning.
You might be tired. You might even be sad, depressed and even mad. You might feel like you are walking barefoot on glass. But soon you will get to a place where the pain and anger goes away, the lessons are learned, and the past has no control. When all is said and done you will be wiser. You will be healed. But right now – try to just be, and know that even on your bad days that kindness brings sunshine.