I Love Lucy

I ended the third month of my gap year with an oracle reading from Lucy Cavendish. I usually won’t get readings because I firmly believe that we know the answers ourselves. In times of transformation though, I like confirmation or clarification. And that’s why I booked to see Lucy. 

Well, that was one reason. 

In my early twenties I started reading New Age stuff. Whilst reading Dawn Hill’s fourth book, I became excited. There was a chapter in it describing the person’s religion and all of a sudden I felt home; I had found a name for everything I believed in. It brought, after the excitement, a deep calm and joy that still exists today. 

I started reading everything I could get my hands on and entered Scott Cunningham’s world. As much as I usually shy away from labels, I found this one very empowering: Wiccan. I was a Wiccan. 

It was the nineties. The New Age and alternative religions were flourishing. The stigma was great and stereotyping rampant. I was a proud Wiccan. I didn’t care. I wasn’t alive to convert or indoctrinate others; I just wanted to live my life my way. 

Enter Lucy. 

Lucy Founded and edited the first magazine I ‘subscribed’ to: Witchcraft. I lapped up every edition. It empowered me, and I’m sure, many other solitary practitioners, by building a community of sorts. And community, at its most ideal, let’s us know that we don’t travel alone. 

The magazine eventually folded and I kept on my path. 

The year before last I found Global Contact in Berry. It’s a beautiful esoteric shop owned and managed by Patsy. And Patsy organises readers and teachers from a variety of disciplines to teach or facilitate workshops. 

Last year I signed up for Oracle Reading presented by Lucy. I had forgotten that Lucy had concocted Witchcraft. I read for friends but didn’t trust myself or my guides enough to not use the books; this day annihilated that habit. 

And I was so impressed by Lucy’s calm, gentle yet empowered presence. So I jumped at the opportunity of a reading. 

She did not disappoint. 

Since I could write, I wanted to be a writer. This gap year is partly to find out what my next steps are as well as to use the time to write. Teaching, in some ways, was supposed to fund my writing career. Yes, I was naive. 

The reading enabled Lucy to verbalise my ideal life. I welled up as my dreams poured from her mouth. 

“You are a story teller. That is your role.”

A cottage, surrounded by books, homely with the pets, happy, inspired working, a frugal life. But, my cottage. 

Yes. That is how I have always pictured my best life. 

But I don’t finish anything. I get scared. 

I am looking to my future and my hand has let go of teaching but my feet are still mired to it. And that is okay but it will change. And I need to let it/make it do just that. 

I will read my words in libraries. 

Lucy is not the first reader to envision this. My guides have told me this before. I listened then sort of – it gave me courage to take leave for this year. This time I need to make it happen. 

No excuses. Trust. 

On the way to tutoring, after the reading, my creative mind took over and inspiration ambushed me. Today, after cleaning, I will write. 

I am excited. 

As I said to Lucy as I thanked her, she has given me permission to give myself permission to be all that I have ever wanted me to be. What a beautiful gift! 

My friend Mel had a reading before me and we quickly met up in a cafe to exchange summaries. She texted me last night to say that my energy shifted entirely from before to after the reading and time with Lucy. I was buzzing. 

I guess that’s what happens when we are given permission to pursue our dreams; we become alive. 

What a blessing: to live whilst breathing. 

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