Last Friday, July 19, I was getting ready to go on a bus that leaves every half hour. I was planning to catch the 12:30 p.m. bus and was all ready to go, bus ticket in hand, when I looked inside my handbag for the keys. My keys and cellphone were put in the front pocket of the handbag (as usual) earlier in the day. The cellphone was there and the keys were not. I searched the entire bag frantically and looked all around for the keys to no avail. I felt the bag for the keys. Nothing. I shook the bag for keys. Nothing. There are five keys on the ring along with a big red R of foam rubber about 3″ x 3″ x 1″. Finally it became obvious I was going to miss the 12:30 bus, so I got a drink of water and began to think about options, like from whom I could get my apartment keys. I looked around some more and went back to my bag and there in the front pocket of the bag right next to my cell phone were the keys with the large red “R” bigger than life. I took the one o’clock bus and pondered what mechanism was at work here. Might I have been mysteriously saved from some tragedy by not getting on the 12:30 bus or were the pixies responsible? I’ll never know, but I do know that those keys were not in there when I looked thoroughly the first three times and I was totally alone, at least devoid of visible human company, so no other person could have tampered with the bag.
What exactly can be derived from these experiences? One thing I have known for quite a few years: if you are unexpectedly delayed, go with the flow and don’t fight the current. There could be a reason. Your guardian angel, your higher self, your guides or the effulgent light of the universe itself could have your back.
One day over twenty years ago I was walking downtown on the west side of Third Avenue in New York City. I was literally pulled into an expensive (to me at the time) Italian deli a couple of blocks below 23rd Street. I had passed there dozens of times before but never went inside. I just knew my budget couldn’t deal with it. That late afternoon I could not resist going in. I had nothing I needed to buy there and I wasn’t even hungry. Yet I couldn’t resist going in. It was a small but not tiny store. I looked around for several minutes and having gotten uncomfortable with the salespersons’ “Can I help you?” queries, I quickly left.
As I made my way further down Third Avenue, I became aware of police and ambulance sirens and then an accident scene between 13th and 14th Streets. Apparently a taxi went out of control and mowed two women pedestrians down killing them. It is quite possible, had I not gone into the specialty food store, that I would have been precisely in the path of that taxi.
Fahrusha is a professional intuitive who does readings in New York’s East Village and elsewhere. She can be contacted by email at: firstname.lastname@example.org