mind/body/spirit carnival

i went to the mind/body/spirit expo at the valley forge convention center this past weekend. i’d never been to one before and didn’t have a real clear idea of what to expect. i had read the program of events of course, so i knew who would be speaking, but that hardly prepared me for *who* they were. so, i went with an empty head so to speak.

booths, booths and more booths all arranged in what appeared to be a haphazard fashion but actually formed aisles. i think there’s some sort of neurological dissonance that happens to me when i walk into a large space with lots of people, colors and sparkley stuff. it all jumbles itself up in my head and i find i can’t pick out the patterns that others see right off. owell.

there were the requisite hawkers…the ones who were there for the money only. they’d fit just as well along a carnaval midway or the kiosks in a mall. no, i don’t want your supplements, your crystal with 20 programs that will cure my cancer, boils, hangnails and attract lovers of all species, and no i do not want to taste the juice offered by the vile little lady with the serrated teeth. there were a few who were kinda scary…the fitness dude who exuded so much testosterone that people unconciously moved to the center of the aisle so as not to brush too closely to his booth for fear of angering the beast…and the voodoo priestess had the same effect only i don’t think it was testosterone that pushed me back…it was something else.

so i planned out which lectures i wanted to go to…i have to do that. plan plan plan everything so i don’t get the sense that i’m *wasting* my time and money. i must have a definable purpose i can point to and say, see! this is the reason and it is indeed reasonable. who am i kidding? anyway…between lectures i had lots of time to really check everything out. i didn’t want to miss anything.

the first booth i passed was occupied by a very handsome man with shocking white hair. before him was a large bowl filled with dried corn and beans. “psssst…come here.” uh oh. “put your hand in this bowl. move it around sensuously and feel the corn. take some. no, that’s not enough, take more. now, give some corn to people in your life. you will learn a lot about people by how they accept your gift of corn. you will know who is gracious and who will suck the life out of you.” i put my corn in my pocket and left feeling a little off-kilter.

i got my aura picture taken. cool little thing they got going…kirlian(?) photography. seemed to be basically a galvanic skin response mechanism run through a program that assigns colors to whatever the output is for each finger and thumb. i’m green w/some pretty blues at the edges and a lovely violet at the crown. and here, i thought i was dull. the tarot lady wanted to do a reading, but she charged $65! um…no thanks, not even if you record it so i can listen to it for the rest of my life. i did indulge in an astrological chart so that i can find out where i stand in the cosmic scheme of things. haven’t read it yet, but when i picked it up after the very dry human energy system lecture, the woman who ran my birthdate/time through the computer was very excited for me. she had an australian accent…there were in fact a lot of australian accents…wonder why?

then there was ted, the psychic palm reader. as i walked by, ignoring him, he stepped out from his booth and blocked my path. he was a typical “close talker” and very touchy-feely. his hands were dry and warm and i didn’t mind that he was way too into my space. he was a funny looking dude and when i put my bag and purse down, complaining that i was carrying too much stuff, he said, “funny thing about stuff, it usually ends up being shit.” ack! ted was channeling george carlin! if there was anyone i wanted to read my palm, it was him. so i forked over my $30 for 20 minutes and let ted have his way with my hands and indulge his hair fetish (apparently he gets stuff from feeling your hair). it was very nice, not at all intrusive, though it really should have been. he got most of it wrong but it didn’t matter. afterwards, i asked him what his day job was. he said, “this is my day job and my night job.” i said, incredulously, “you can make a living doing this?”

the carnival is not dead.

met a couple of very cute, little girls (barely scratching at 20) who make soaps, massage bars and lip balms in their mother’s kitchen. they used to make them out of their grandmother’s kitchen, which was very wonderful, but she died. they call themselves, “bubba & featherbell.” i fell in love with them.

one of the librarians at work is very into essential oils. her yoga teacher sold her some oils from a company called wisdom of the earth, which had a booth at the expo. the owner, barry kapp was one of the lecturers. i went to both his lecture and his 2 hour workshop. he wore a fringed buckskin shirt…the color can only be described as violently purple. his oils are exceptionally pure and powerful and expensive.

almost all the people who attended his workshop were in desperate need. there were skin disorders, congenital defects and obvious emotional issues. i worried why i was there. his lecture was informative and it was obvious he really knew his craft. he played the flute for us and annointed us with frankensence, champaca, white spruce and sage white. it’s hard to explain the feeling from all these heady scents, but i was calmly wired, with a sense that i was flirting with two worlds.

and then i found out that cypress trees were a gift to us from the ancients of venus and when the shift happens in 2012 he and others in the know are checking out.
…and he was doing so well up to that point.

everywhere there was the sound of drumming.

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