Authors: EJ Valson,Michelle Read
Over the past few weeks I have spent most lunch breaks in my office reading the book Astrid gave me. It’s been fascinating to read about real past life regression sessions -- transcripts of men and women being put into an almost hypnotic state to open their soul to lives lived before the one they are currently living. I could relate to them.
Luckily, the book doesn’t mention anything ridiculous about people finding out they were the King of England or a famous actor. It focuses on one’s spiritual purpose for being on earth and what their soul is supposed to achieve. There are also chapters about finding the common theme or scenario between lives. I wonder if there is a lesson to be learned or a goal to be met in my predicament. I begin to question my life with Joe and my life with Michael. There must be some parallel between the two that has brought me to the place I am currently in.
I’m starting to feel more at ease here, in this new old life. We have a routine at the house and that helps me feel more grounded. Every day is pretty much the same. We get out the door, go to work, make dinner and play with Olivia before she goes to bed. Joe occupies himself with the television each night. He doesn’t seem to care that I retreat to the bedroom to read my book before bed. He has no knowledge of what the book is about, and hasn’t bothered to ask why I read it so much.
He doesn’t ask much of me as far as being a partner either. We seem to be quite co
ntent with this. He was one who always liked to have time to himself after a hard day’s work. I don’t make a big deal about it if he wants to head to his brother’s or parents’ to work on their trucks or whatever project they are doing at the time. This makes it easy for me to go about this life.
He hasn’t tried to be particularly physical with me since the first night I was here either. Joe gets a quick peck on the lips before he leaves each morning and that seems to be enough for him. I get through it by closing my eyes and imagining Michael. I hope Michael will forgive me in the future for this. I do it for Olivia. If I am stuck here for the rest of my life, then I want her to have a better example of loving parents than Joe and I gave her before.
Though I do not want to be in this marriage in any way, I have decided not to rush to leave Joe. After all, what is the point? And
I’m afraid to do anything that could disrupt my future life. What if I take the wrong path and veer off so far that I can never get back to where I belong?
Some people say that you control your destiny while others say that fate will always have the same outcome regardless of your actions. No matter where you go or what you do, you will always arrive at the same destination. But I am not so sure about that.
CHAPTER 16
It’s Friday, thank GOD! However, I’m feeling a little anxious about this weekend. We are going to the wedding of some high school friends. In fact, Joe is an usher and I am in charge of the guest book. The stress of having to greet a bunch of people who I seldom see in the future is adding to my nerves. We live in a small town, so everybody knows everybody. It will literally be like a mini high school reunion. In the future, before I go to these types of events, I do my best to prepare weeks in advance by tanning and exercising -- ah, vanity. In this current time, I guess I simply don’t care.
It’s quiet in the office today as Ruth has headed to her lake cabin. Marketing is having their “Casual Friday”. This means they are all wearing jeans and will go to happy hour after work. I laugh to myself because I was the one who implemented this tradition later on. I guess it happened anyway without me.
It’s almost 3:00 p.m.
, so I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Normally I don’t drink coffee in the afternoon, but I haven’t been sleeping well at night so I need the “pick me up” to get through the day. I often have dreams that cause me to wake up suddenly and I can’t go back to sleep. I just lay there trying to determine if I’m having memories, making things up or seeing my future.
I lean against the counter while the fresh pot of coffee brews. I hear footsteps coming around the corner. Stacy appears from behind the side of the divider wall. “Hi!” she says, chipper.
“Hi,” I say smiling back.
She is dressed in a pair of sailor jeans with a cute blouse and colorful flats. She always had the best style. She is tall and curvy, with long blonde hair and very pretty. She opens the fridge and pulls out a bag of baby carrots. Though she’s right in front of me, I miss her. We always had a great time together.
I fidget with my coffee cup, not sure how to keep the conversation going. “So, do you have any fun plans this weekend?” she inquires, making small talk. She was always good at that. This is why she later became the department director. Her networking skills were exceptional.
I’m
excited to chat with her. “Well, we are going to a wedding tomorrow night. I’m in serious need of something to wear, though,” I laugh.
“Ohhhh...sounds like a good excuse for a shopping trip,” she says with a wink.
I nod in agreement. “Wish I could, I just don’t know where the best place to shop is,” I respond.
“Well, what are you looking for?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
I look down at my sad excuse for a summer outfit -- a long plain red floral skirt and a white t-shirt sweater. “Anything better than this,” I respond sarcastically.
“There is a new store at the mall,” she suggests. “In fact, I’m heading there tonight. Do you want to go with?” she asks.
I am thrilled at this prospect. I need a girlfriend, and more importantly, I need her. She was always my best shopping buddy.
I light up. “Sure!” I say. We make a quick plan for her to swing by my place and pick me up around 5:30. I call Joe on his cell when I get back to my desk. I have no idea if he will be agreeable to this. Michael would be, but Joe might be tighter with the wallet. He was in my “other” past. The phone rings a few times, then he picks up. I can tell he is outside.
“Hi, Joe,” I say formally.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, sounding distracted. I can hear hammering in the background.
“Would you mind if I go shopping with a friend from work tonight, around 5:30?” I ask.
“Uh....sure, I guess.” he says hesitantly.
I don’t like being at his mercy. I don’t know why I care what he thinks. Mostly I just don’t want to leave Olivia with him if he is going to be moody.
He breaks the brief spell of silence on the line. “I was going to take you shopping on Sunday for your birthday, but if you want to go tonight I can just give you the money that I was going to spend on you,” he explains.
My heart lifts a little. I look at the wall calendar. Holy c
rap! I am going to turn twenty-six on Sunday! This happened to be one of my favorite ages. Probably because it was the year I met Michael and my life changed for the better.
“Are you sure?” I say hesitantly, secretly hoping he is.
“Yeah, Babe, you know
I’m not the best person to shop with,” he jokes.
I s
ay a big thank you and hang up.
I hurry back down to Stacy’s office and peak my head in “OK, we are set!” I say, with a thumbs up.
“Great!” s
he responds.
I walk back to my office with a smile on my face. I am feeling my life in my bones again.
The evening with Stacy is exactly what I need. We make friendly small talk during the short twenty-minute drive to the mall. Everything Stacy is telling me about her life I have already heard before. But I act interested and respond accordingly. I tell her my short life summary, sans the trapped in time part, and we laugh at the same things.
I am thrown even farther back into my past with her when a mutually favorite song
comes on the radio. In the old days, or the days that haven’t happened...or never did, we used to blast this song on our way into town when we had a girl’s night. She introduced me to so many different types of music, and I’m forever appreciative of that.
We have a quick bite to eat at a popular hamburger house
,
then head into the mall. We hurriedly make our way through the stores we loved to shop at together in the future, though she doesn’t know that. I stock up on shorts, shirts, jeans, shoes and better work attire, plus a nicer purse and a summer dress for the wedding, complete with espadrilles. My future life taste is influencing my past life look.
Joe had thoughtfully given me a birthday card with $300 cash before I left to shop. I gave him a sincere hug and a longer kiss on the lips than usual. I was grateful for his gesture. He told me to have a good time, and then he and Olivia headed out to his parents’ for pizza. This Joe is seemingly a better version of the one I knew before.
Stacy and I are efficient shoppers, as always, and
I’m pleased that I fit into most everything I find. Even if I am smaller in this life, my muscle tone leaves something to be desired. My long skinny legs aren’t as tan as they usually are this season. The modest bras I’m wearing have no wires for support. My midsection could be a little flatter, arms a little more defined. While looking at myself in the mirror I mentally commit that I will fix all of this soon, bringing my future life fitness focus to my current life’s out-of-shape self.
By 9:00 p.m. I have spent nearly every penny Joe gave me and I have much to show for it. I can practically replace everything I currently have in my closet and feel like a new person, which is even more important to me now.
On the way back to the car I ask Stacy if she knows a good place to get my hair done. She recommends a salon that is still around in the future. Then she pulls out her cell phone and dials a number. Within five minutes she has managed to get me into her personal stylist the next morning. This is one of the things I love most about Stacy. She makes things happen and always with a positive attitude. She inspires me that way.
CHAPTER 18
Saturday morning I wake up to the sun shining brightly through the bedroom curtains. I feel refreshed and excited to reveal my
new
old self with an updated haircut and clothes. After hurrying out of the shower, I quickly dress, kiss Olivia and Joe goodbye and rush out the door with a cup of coffee in my hand.
I admire the beautiful day as I drive to the salon. I meet the hair stylist at the front desk and when she takes me back to her chair I tell her to keep it long, add layers and put whatever color in she wants for highlights. This blessing on creative liberty pleases her. I sit down, lean back, relax and let go. Today will be a good day.
After three hours in the chair
I’m finished. I head home in a hurry because we have four hours until the wedding. I rush through the front door and prepare to apologize for taking so long.
“Wow,” Joe says when he sees me. He is smiling and looks pleased. I stand there for a moment, not knowing what to say. “You look really nice, Babe,” he says coming over to look at the golden honey highlights woven into my dark hair. He pulls me in closer and leans in, then reaches around my back and grabs my butt.
“Hey,” I say nervously, pulling back but trying to hide that I’m avoiding him.
“What, Babe? You look hot,” he says, getting frisky. I look around him to see where Olivia is. He notices. “Don’t worry, she’s napping,” he says, as he leans in closer to kiss me. My body tenses. I’m not supposed to do this. I am married. Well, somewhere else I am -- to someone else!
“Oh, stop,” I say coyly as I move away.
“OK, OK,” he says, good-
naturedly retreating. “I just haven’t seen you look like this in a long time,” he explains.
“Thanks,” I say, softening a bit. “I appreciate that, but I’ve got to start getting ready. Another time?” I ask, though I don’t mean it. I just don’t want to hurt his feelings. After all, to him I am his wife. But I need to respect Michael too
-- as his.
The whole interaction makes me uncomfortable, but I quickly shake it off, get in the shower to rinse off any stray hairs, shave my legs smooth and freshen up for the wedding. I take my time to pamper myself when I get out of the shower, applying lotion, cologne and some shimmery body powder I found the night before. I have enough time to apply polish to my toenails and fingernails -- capping off my transformation. I dig out a decent set of earrings from a box under the sink. I style my hair a little straighter but with some wavy tendrils. This is how I will do my hair in the future. I laugh to myself, thinking maybe for the first time in my life I will be a trendsetter.
I pull out the clay-red halter dress from a shopping bag. It is a silky, flowing fabric with a belt that emphasizes and flatters my waist. I find my most supportive strapless bra, pull the dress over my head, and put on my dark brown espadrilles. I take a look in the mirror, turning from side to side to make sure everything is in the right place. After applying a little more eyeliner and mascara and tweezing a few stray hairs near my eyebrows, I step to the mirror for one last look. I’m pleased. I look into my eyes and I smile. I’m starting to see myself again. I feel good in this body. In my body.