By Maryanna Gabriel
"It's no use to go back to yesterday
because I was a different person then."
- Alice In Wonderland by CS Lewis
because I was a different person then."
- Alice In Wonderland by CS Lewis
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| (Artist Unknown) |
I sat for my tea leaf reading in a Victorian setting. I was at once reassured as I found myself before a twinkly, white-haired,
Welsh woman. She seems kindly as she tells me that as a child she used to sit under the tea
table and listen to her grandmother and mother do readings. Even better, I
think. An array of cups surround her and I was to choose one. It was at once
immediately clear. It had little roses on it.
She pours the tea and after a time I drink and turn the cup over for her. There is a shift in energy as she contemplates the cup. She said she saw spots on a vast plane. Puzzled, she corrected herself. “I am being shown a map, these are not spots, these are places,” she murmured. “You travel to lots of places and write about them.” I nod but she is not looking at me. Her eyes are closed. She is somewhere else.
I feel myself being drawn into a dreamscape with her as the room seems to recede. She picked up the cup and turned the troubles out, the grievances, the heartaches, like so many tiny droplets, seemingly such small matters in a great vastness. Like a giant, friendly, fairy goddess grandmother, the slight wave of her wrist vanquished all troubles into an infinite and benevolent universal sea. She talked on. Her words were spoken in metaphor, of symbols, a landscape of people like puppets moving across an enormous cosmic stage masquerading in varying roles. Slowly the outer garments were revealed as if what lay beneath the mask shown to the outer world was a much unpleasanter vista in a realm where all is known. Without her saying very much directly I knew exactly what she meant. After a time and filled with wonder, I found myself in my seat again, the murmurings of the shop surrounding us as the older woman’s eyes opened. “You have chosen the tea cup of happiness my dear,” she said. I laughed with delight. This is very, very, good. But then I already knew that.
She pours the tea and after a time I drink and turn the cup over for her. There is a shift in energy as she contemplates the cup. She said she saw spots on a vast plane. Puzzled, she corrected herself. “I am being shown a map, these are not spots, these are places,” she murmured. “You travel to lots of places and write about them.” I nod but she is not looking at me. Her eyes are closed. She is somewhere else.
I feel myself being drawn into a dreamscape with her as the room seems to recede. She picked up the cup and turned the troubles out, the grievances, the heartaches, like so many tiny droplets, seemingly such small matters in a great vastness. Like a giant, friendly, fairy goddess grandmother, the slight wave of her wrist vanquished all troubles into an infinite and benevolent universal sea. She talked on. Her words were spoken in metaphor, of symbols, a landscape of people like puppets moving across an enormous cosmic stage masquerading in varying roles. Slowly the outer garments were revealed as if what lay beneath the mask shown to the outer world was a much unpleasanter vista in a realm where all is known. Without her saying very much directly I knew exactly what she meant. After a time and filled with wonder, I found myself in my seat again, the murmurings of the shop surrounding us as the older woman’s eyes opened. “You have chosen the tea cup of happiness my dear,” she said. I laughed with delight. This is very, very, good. But then I already knew that.