As I was writing the last post, I hear a young girl on the main floor of the library (I am sitting on the second story, open-floor scheme balcony) talking about paranormal psychology, lights flickering being spirits communicating and she is asking the librarian to help her with her search. She is high-energy, fidgety, she gets up and runs around the center island, jumps into the librarian's seat and begins to search for on the computer. "Who is this girl?", I think to myself. What a character. The librarian comes back, reminding the girl, "You know, you're not supposed to do that." "I know, I know, I just really want to find these books!" The librarian asks again, "So what exactly do you want to search for?" "Paranormal psychology, or maybe, like, I don't know if that will show up, so maybe spirits, ghosts, something like that. I know, I know, it's weird, like, you don't usually hear 14-year-olds talking about these sort of things, but I just love it." I think to myself, I know all about these things. This girl is psychic, this girl has got it and she's so young. I know what she's looking for. Go. I get up, leave my things at my chair and head down to speak with her.
I walk up to them, "I overheard you all talking and I thought I would come down and offer to point you in the right direction." They both smiled and gasped and were surprised by my clarity and confidence. "Are you a scientist?" the girl asked, hands cupped over her cheeks in excitement. Her pink-rimmed glasses laid gently on her flawless milky white skin, I remember those days. She was tall, slim and wore a black and white patterned shirt, long and flowing over jeans. I liked her style. She was probably wearing converse, just like me. "No, I'm not." Ohhh, disappointment crossed their faces. "Are you a psychologist?" They were interested to figure out just who I was and why I had chosen to come up to them. "No, I'm not." Again, puzzled. "I'm a teacher. I teach yoga, meditation, and was a school teacher for many years. Now I'm beginning to do work related to this field, kind of transitioning, it's what I do." "What do you mean it's what you do?" the neatly dressed librarian asked me. She appeared to be of my age or a bit older, her crisp collared shirt fit perfectly into her cardigan and her long, blonde hair, dyed highlights slightly grown in caressed her shoulders. Perfectly put together, this is suburban New Jersey.
"I mean, well yoga has been my entry-way into the world of energy, of spirit, and I've done a lot of reading on it, right now I'm beginning to see how I can use this and share it." "Oh my god, so cool! I am super interested in all this stuff like when I'm thinking of a song and it comes on the radio, or thinking of a person and I see them, like witchcraft and.." the girl moves her body about and twists and fidgets her hands. "Yes, that is what I do." "You're a witch?" "Well, we all are really, we all have the power to pick up on these symbols and things that are around us all the time, just some of us are more sensitive to it and more able to pick up on these things." The librarian chimes in, "Really? Why is it that these things happen? Like I was thinking about Tom Paddley and then a few days later I ran into Tom Paddley." "Yes, exactly, because you created it or you knew it was going to happen." Her head rocked back on her neck, she thought, it seemed she had never heard or thought of this before. "What? That's amazing!" the teenage witch-in-training exclaimed. You're amazing, I thought. How cool.
"Come on, I'll show you the books." And the story begins.
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