I arrived there in a state of indecision and observation. I was standing outside myself and looking in with a confusion so deeply rooted I had a hard time differentiating my likes from my dislikes, my wants from my unwants. The confidence that used to be so innate in me was diminishing before my very eyes.
It was an experience the palm reader called “a black hole.” She said it was a scary place to be. That it would happen to me several times over the course of my life. To mediate it, she said, I should spend time with cows. To just sit with them and have them look at me.
“Can you go to India when you leave here?” she said in a most direct and assuming way, “There are many cows in India. They are sacred there.” She said it in a way that made me wonder if she had already booked me a ticket. Or maybe as if I had already planned it all out and she was just checking in to get the details on my itinerary.