I believe in the power of the Voodoo....Who do? You do? What?

Sometimes, I like to tell myself that everything happens for a reason, because you have to put up with the rain to appreciate the rainbows. I tell myself that when things don’t work out, it is because the universe is trying to steer you onto the path that you are meant to walk, not the one that you think you are meant to travel. Of course, I am not so tainted in view, that I can’t admit that not everything happens for a reason, for example, cancer, dictators and sudden deaths...people suffer such almighty pain and trauma and sometimes you can’t justify it, except by saying that’s life.

As a child I was mystified by the possibilities of the unknown. I remember staying up late on a Wednesday night to watch ‘Strange but True ‘with all of its ghostly apparitions, and out of all the books my grandparents bought me as a child, my ‘Mysteries of the Unexplained’ has always had pride of place within my bookshelves. I loved the idea of magic powers, spells and horoscopes. I remember once finding my mum’s set of tarot cards thrown in the back of a cupboard in our dining room, and being so terribly excited, as there and then, I held the map to the rest of my life...of course, I don’t remember what I asked them at the time, it was probably if the boy I was so totally crushing on fancied me back...you know, all the essential questions one can have in life.

Well, hurtling towards two decades on, and I still cling onto promised spoilers. I salute magpies, look for white feathers and in times in real need of a ‘fast-forward’ button, I even read my horoscopes. Now, being a stubborn creature, I seldom take on opposing views in my world, so if said ‘spoilers’ fail to give the answer I want, then fortune telling is merely an outcome of chance; however, should they agree, then heck, it’s practically gospel. Hypercritical-much?

Last year, after wanting to make the visit for as long as I could remember, I finally went to see a psychic. I had been meaning to go for at least three years prior, but being contented with my life during that time span, I’d never got round to doing so. This by no means meant that everything was rosy, but I guess out of all of the stresses and ups/downs that life can throw at you, there has only ever been one area that I truly care about – Love. So when I found myself suddenly single and slipping back into old habits, I decided to check out ‘some spoilers’ and find out if it was the case of my life’s happiness had now passed or whether there was chance of life after divorce.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have studied NLP, my job teaches me to read people and the signs given from their body language, and yes, I too, watched Derren Brown’s programme on the so-called predicting of the future, but, the way that I see it, is if she could tell me that everything would be alright (whether true or not), it gave me the optimism to get through the next six months. And, I guess, at the end of the day, that’s all that everything boils down to, that glimmering shard of hope, that things will be ok.

Some of the things told to me bore no relation, the names and possibilities sounded alien, but I nodded politely all the same. However, something’s told, must have come from somewhere, things about my past, and my world, that others didn’t know, it was these insights that made the promise of happiness a possibility. She had told me about the entrance of one of my now very close friends (whom of which inspired me to begin blogging), and despite me vehemently disagreeing at the time, she also correctly predicted my job change.   

Nearly four months into the new year and I am only two months away from promised happiness, and I sure hope it’s coming, because I haven’t stopped looking for it for a second. Part of me believes, you make things happen in your own world, because no-one can do things for you, but that doesn’t mean that we all look for that little bit of magic in our lives. So I will continue wishing on stars, looking for 11:11’s, and clapping after someone sneezes, because, if it doesn’t get me carted off to the Looney bin, it may just help.