My First Visit with Kim, Part 1

As I look over these posts, I realize I never properly introduced my teacher, Kim, to my readers. Luckily, my journal has my first impressions... For a change of pace, I'll break it into easily digestible sections that read like a novella. Settle in and Enjoy!



Rich and I arrived on time for our appointment. We were greeted at the door by a woman who appeared to be much younger than I expected. She was very small in stature, with long brown hair and short bangs that framed a youthful face that seemed off, somewhere else, when she opened the door. Kim introduced herself and ushered us inside.

When we entered the room, we noticed another woman with her, who was also looking off without words, expectantly. I knew her, but she did not wish to acknowledge me at this point. We knew it was best to hurry out, give them their space and wait out turn. We were invading a private moment.

I was thoroughly looking forward to my visit with a woman I knew nothing about. The more impatient of the two of us, Rich would go first for his reading. I did not mind waiting over an hour, plumped on a comfy couch with a good book on natural healing and a head full of memories. I was happy to be here.

I came after several recommendations from fellow students who had seen Kim in action at The Medicine Wheel. Deepak Chopra says there are many gifted teachers out there. It’s just hard to separate the few from the charlatans. So I am naturally wary. We rearranged our schedule, allowing four hours of our time, knowing nothing about the lady; just that other budding Natural Healers thought she was the real deal.

As I wait I wonder if I shouldn’t have been as cynical and close-minded as I had been all these years. I recall an old memory of a pleasant old woman who grabbed my hand in New Orleans, pre-Katrina. I was enjoying a weekend of Jazz Clubs with R**, a long-time friend who was developing romantic interests. I was slowly warming up to the idea after four years of working with him and gaining an unaccustomed trust.

We were in St. Augustine’s Square, one of the oldest church’s in America. The old lady spoke, saying something I forget now, but her words made me feel as if she knew me. “Some old witches trick,” I thought. She offered to read my palm. “No money. No money.” she implored. “I read for free. Five minutes. You can tip me if you like.”

“Five minutes.” I agreed.

She happily told me I would have another major love in my life. But first I would suffer a major upset which would cause me to alter my course dramatically. “Sooner than you think.” she said.
I told her I was quite happy with my life as it is. “Thank you.” I was living well, very successfully by most standards, recuperating from a divorce from a man I had once, perhaps still, deeply loved, but whose psychological problems were severely damaging the rest of his family and my self esteem. I was entering the best phase of my life, at 43, physically and emotionally becoming stronger and more confident than ever. In truth, although I didn’t know it then, I would reach even higher than I could imagine at that point in New Orleans.

“I don’t think I want many changes!” I laughed. “Except perhaps, the love one you mentioned.”
I winked at R** and felt brave enough to ask the Big Question. “Is he, the one you see in my happy new love-life?” I looked into the eyes of the handsome man at my side, and smiled, so she would know that the tip she requested was at risk with her answer.

She did not hesitate. “Oh no, not that way!” She knitted her brows, shook her head firmly and gave R** a look of disgust. I was totally surprised. R** is the more outgoing of the two of us -- funny, engaging, a professional salesman who most people like immediately.

“He’s in your life in a big way, but you will find another who will mean more to you than the first deep love of your life.” She traced lines on my palm as though that would show me how obvious the truth was to see. “See this is good!” she said. “But him. No, he’s not the one.”

“Is that what you see there?” I asked.

“No. It’s what I feel from him,” she said resolutely.

“Too bad.” I laughed. “Honey? Would you give her a tip?” R** shook his head and smirked. I pulled out five dollars and put it in her hand with a smile.

I had invested 20 years with that first deep love of my life, and since we had three children together, I figured our attachments, however redefined, would remain until death do us part. Little did I know how close death stood. And little did I know how right her predictions would turn out to be.