fruta de la muerte

I requested from Ashley-
friend, confidant, newly practiced in
matters of health-
that she administer a lethal dose.
I lay face-up on a hospital bed
in a starched room, and accepted first
from her a raw egg, which I swallowed
dutifully, and then a purple ball,
fruit-like, perfectly round and cut
in half. Just as I finished swallowing,
the darkness closed in and I focused
on the sensation of losing sensation,
calm and ready to end my life.

Later, I awoke. I considered what I had
done and determined that it was better
I live, as I had accomplishments yet to
attempt. I left the bed and sought
out my friends at a local eatery; others
at a bar. I hugged and thanked them
for their support, but announced that
I would be living, for now.

No one was particularly shocked one way
or the other. This was comforting.

oh, the magic

This morning I ambled a bit awkwardly
through the market, peeking
around bundles of green
onions and over piles of Japanese
eggplant, searching for someone.

She was a middle-aged blond at a small booth.
Spying her, I burst into tears.
Sigh, typical.
An older man shook her hand in thanks,
took up his cane, and
walked away.

I, being quite brave given enough
time to prepare, ducked around a corner.
I cried, in preparation, and had a phone
conversation with the one person whose
permission I sought. I calmed down,
sidled up, and sat on the folding chair opposite her.

After establishing the facts, she allowed:
Your sign is opposite the sun, right now.
That is to say...you're searching for light,
in darkness. Brilliantly, she concluded after
my face crinkled, weeping, that I was in
a great great deal of pain.

Money is flipping you out, she said.
Check.
So what would you like to know? Relationships?
I asked what options were on the menu.
Well, she said, I'll just start talking, and
we'll see how it goes. I learned the following:

My current love(d) is not so new to my soul as I might like to believe,
but rather, our love is recycled, 248 years after the fact.
That's right: in the year of our Lord 1761, we were
together. My great loves are destined to be Cancers.
Astrologically speaking, that is.

Some big decisions October 10 of this year, and
I'll find the great career of my life in January 2011.
I'll be 25, and that's much ahead of the 28-year, 8-month
point at which most regular souls find their callings.
(I'm recording this for posterity and revision at a later date).

Anyway, what struck me most was her inclination that
I AM A HEALER.
Yep. That's right. A healer.

It sounded so right and sweet to my ears. The matching
of "you" and "healer" infused me with a confidence
and a patience and a power I hadn't felt in ages.
I am more sure of my capacity to heal myself, now,
so that I can work towards opening myself
to my own healing powers. I look forward to both.

She said, at the end, that I needed that. And whether
or not she's full of malarky, I agree,
wholeheartedly.