The Single Psychic: French Night

The single life. As a young girl, I fantasized about becoming the ideal adult single woman, drinking Perrier, eating French bread, hanging impossibly eye-attracting art on the wall, living aloofly with similarly aloof cats, generally being cool and mysterious (stop laughing, people who have met me). As a single woman, I have been slumping lately and not fully living out the single lady life I promised my tween self.

I am having a good hair day though:

I don’t read enough books (Mary Karr’s Lit has been woefully ignored on my nightstand for months). I do enjoy fashion, but I could stand to pull it together and organize my closet and jewelry drawer, then create a fabulous outfit for every day. I entertain a bit, which is good, and I am always penciling the next blog post (or 4 at a time). I’m not changing my living space as much as I would if I were focused on enjoying my life.

And dammit, I am in an eternal struggle with finding Perrier in cans, or reaching it on the shelf at the store.

So, like thousands before me, I decided to make an attempt at curating the life I always wanted.  I am using my secret Pinterest vision board for inspiration, and I am going to blog about it as I go, mostly because I’m a sucker for a good narrative. I also figured SoulUnfold was getting a little high-minded due to my love of theoretical musings, and could use a dash of cat hair.

The first Single Psychic adventure went off last night exactly as I would want it to. My personal psychic (even a psychic needs a psychic) came over to help me salt seal my apartment against negative energy. This is her with my kitty Bucket, sometimes known as Sir Buckington, le chat who hates his purple scarf:

She came up with the idea of “French night” a few weeks ago.  We regularly exchange reading time because it’s hard to read for yourself as a psychic. What you all may find particularly interesting (yay for me always burying the lead) is that I also found it necessary to salt seal the apartment yesterday due to the text I received that morning from my super, asking me about a “recording” my neighbor could hear repeating through the wall.

I unplug my electronics when they are not in use, so that recording could not have come from anything I own. Just in case it was an issue, as I do live in a very old building, I immediately reached out to my fellow single Psychic and she showed up at our French night, sea salt in hand.  We created a saltwater mix, blessed it, and ran a line along every window and doorway in the area, then I burned more sage and we sealed the main doorway again with more saltwater, sage and prayers. It was a very silent night after she left, as this sort of practice will remove the “background energy” you are accustomed to feeling in a living space, and make it feel almost too silent.

French night was a rousing success!  We had a beautiful rosé wine, bubbly French pink lemonade from Trader Joe’s (mix them, you will not regret it) and 5 different French cheeses to sample:

A beautiful wine we mixed with pink lemonade and tall tales that may not turn out to be so tall after all.

Cheese and Tarot await two single psychics.

It was exactly the kind of evening my 11-year-old self imagined my adult self having. My psychic friend’s French tarot cards (le jeu de Tarot) had a frisky energy to them, and they loved to bound out of the deck and declare themselves as we dealt. Here M explains a particularly cheeky message the cards were displaying (no I’m not telling you, it’s mildly scandalous):

Overall, I loved French night and it felt like the perfect kickoff to rediscovering my psychic single self. I am already considering new adventures to try over the summer and hopefully share with you, in between my more spiritually and theoretically inclined articles.  As I learned while writing about Catalysis, it’s time for me to encourage werifesteria in my life:

werifesteria: To wander longingly through the forest in search of mystery.

This sounds like the perfect time to encourage the cultivation of newness, excitement and renaissance in my life.I hope you join me in my travels this summer–let me know if you want to see more.

In love, light and werifesteria,

Erica