Years ago, I worked at a New Age Bookstore. Along with medical benefits and a merchandise discount, we were given free psychic readings. Some of these were from famous psychics--none of the ones who've been guests on Maury or Montel--but famous like poets are famous, among themselves. They flew in, presumably on airplanes, and always from California.
When a certain famous psychic came to town, the owner of the store made sure we all penciled ourselves in for appointments. One by one, employees left his room, mesmerized. He read palms, and everyone whispered about their long life lines, their eventual good fortune. When it was my turn, he took me into the small room in the back of the store and asked me to open my palms. It wasn't until after he went through all the lines on my palms, ones that ensured a long life, three great loves, two children, that I began to believe him. He held my right palm in his hand and gasped just a little.
"You have no destiny!" he exclaimed. "The line just isn't there!"
I peered into my open hand. It looked different to me. It wasn't just my hand. It was land as viewed from the sky, easy now to see how one place lead to another, how to get somewhere else.
"What does that mean?" I whispered. I was cheating. Everyone else had a duty to fulfill, something they had to do here before they could go to heaven or reincarnate or board the mothership. And here I was, pointlessly.
"It means you can do whatever you want! All you have to do is be you."
I've suspected this all along, but it felt good to have an expert confirm it. I walked out of there, winner of the cosmic lottery, and for about a day, felt free.
I tried to remind myself that I had no destiny when I felt like I should do something, like get a real job or become the kind of writer that someone pays. But, instead of being unfettered from the burdens that come with having a destiny, I became more aware of how difficult not having a destiny really is. Then, I changed my mind.
Having a destiny means being predictable, and it won't even take a famous psychic to tell you your future. It means you always order the same value meal, you drink your Starbucks, you have a Bluetooth attached to your ear, and you're always on your way to the next same place. You become so important that you don't ever chug grape soda until your tongue gets purple. You always face the door in the elevator. You have more titles than you have stories--and you think that's a good thing.
So, I am making it my destiny to undo yours. If I don't get one, nobody does. This sounds like a lot, I know, but it really isn't. Just do something different. It can be as small as a movement and as brief as a moment.
Here is my proposal:
Do something antithetical to what you would normally do, something a little subversive, and maybe even insane: wake up--just for a moment. Take all the lost carts that other people were too lazy to return back to the front of the grocery store. Leave a note for a stranger in a library book. Quit something you think you love too much. Smile at a stranger right in their eyes. Give something away. Let a spider live in your house if otherwise you'd whack it with your shoe. Talk to your houseplant. Forget that you are wearing a necktie and sing your heart out in the car. Face the other way on the elevator. Touch the wet paint. Notice something you see every day. Try something different, something tiny, as minute and insignificant as a movement and see if it changes something, or someone, or you. It can be anything. Then, prove--in any way you want--that you did something no one could have ever predicted. Take a photograph, write a sentence, tell the story, draw a picture, sing a song, I don't care. Just tell me about it. I'm not asking you to change who you are, or make the world a better place. Just stop having a destiny for one minute and do something a little crazy. I know you have it in you.
Here are the only rules:
1. It cannot be illegal.
2. It cannot be mean-spirited or cause hardship for someone else.
3. There is no such thing as being too young or too old to participate.
4. You must be clear if you wish to remain anonymous, or if you'd specifically like to your name to be recognized. Otherwise, I will use first names and first initial of the last name.
5. By submitting your proof that you have participated, you agree that I am allowed to post it on this website, or elsewhere.
I promise not to spam, sell your email address, or do any of that other evil stuff with your information. I'm just a girl with an idea who is curious enough to see what happens.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
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