Sometimes my husband makes me so irritated I just want to scream. It's not that I don't love him, but he just can't seem to see things the way I do.
You see, I've always felt that science doesn't know everything about the world. I believe in secret forces like ESP, medicinal herbs unknown to medicine, and spirits from beyond that influence our lives -- that sort of thing. Randy, on the other hand, is a pragmatist. He's an engineer and he says the only thing he believes in is Occam's Razor, whatever that is.
He's always putting my beliefs down. Let me give you an example. I was reading this book about past lives and how each of us used to be somebody else before we were born. I'd always felt like I might have been a queen in some ancient land, but Randy just laughed at the idea. "Missy, if we all kept coming back over and over, there wouldn't be enough souls for the population of the world to get any larger," he told me.
Does that make any sense? Of course not. He's just being contrary.
If Randy would open his mind and give some of these things a chance, he'd realize they're true. But he's always so skeptical about anything that isn't proven scientifically. If they could prove it, it wouldn't be magic, would it?
Here's another example. I read an article in a paper I bought at the grocery store that talked about the dangers of eating animal products and how they cause cancer and heart disease and lots of other terrible things. The author said that if we would avoid all meat, dairy, or eggs, that would purge our bodies of all the harmful toxins.
Guess what? When I wanted us to try it, Randy balked. He said he'd never heard of any toxins that needed purging, and besides, humans are omnivores and need to eat all kinds of food, including animal products. Well, I just ignored him and started on the diet by myself. It was great, except that after a few weeks, I found that I was hungry most of the time and I didn't have as much energy as usual. I finally went to my doctor about it and he told me I was anemic! He also said I wasn't getting enough amino acids, whatever they are, and he made me stop the diet right away. I guess it just wasn't right for my blood type or something.
Randy never said anything about it, but I could tell he felt smug about being proven right. That made me mad, so I told him I had a headache when he wanted to have sex that night. But I couldn't stay upset with the big lug for long, and I made up for it the next night. I think that steak I ate must have pumped up my sex drive.
I was kind of down for a while after the diet fiasco. I know that Randy is really smart, but just once I'd like to make him have to admit he's wrong about something and I'm right.
Fortunately, I didn't stay down for long. My spirits got a real lift when I paid a visit to my favorite psychic. She said I would soon have an experience that would change my whole life. That got me so excited that I asked my best friend Julie to have lunch with me so I could talk with her about it.
I got to the restaurant a little early so I could get us a good table and ordered a glass of white wine for both of us (I made sure to ask for organic.) I was sipping mine when Julie arrived. Wow! She was wearing a black leotard with tights and a flimsy little pink dance skirt around her hips. "Hey, girlfriend," I greeted her, "don't you look sexy! Are you on a diet or something? You're positively glowing."
We kissed each other on the cheek and she sat down and had a quick sip of her wine. "Thanks, Missy. And no, I'm not on a diet; I just got back from The Stairway to Heaven."
"The Stairway to Heaven?" I asked. "Wasn't that some rock opera or something?"
She laughed. "You're thinking about that old Led Zeppelin song," she said. "I'm talking about the new Eastern mind and body discipline that's got everybody so excited. The guru who started it has opened a new center here in town, and I've been going for several weeks. You ought to try it."
"What is it, some new yoga thing?" I asked doubtfully. "I tried yoga back in college, but it didn't do anything for me."
"Oh no," she assured me, "this goes way beyond traditional yoga. Master Sativa says that people live lives of isolation. He says we're cut off not only from each other but also from our own body and spirit. His program leads you through the steps to reintegrate your body, mind and soul, and from there to become one with others and the whole universe."
"Wow," I said, "that does sound like something I'd be interested in. Besides, my psychic told me I was going to have a life-changing experience soon. Maybe this is it."
"Well if you're interested," Julie said, "he's giving an introductory talk tonight at the new ashram. Why don't you come with me?"
That evening, Julie drove me to the ashram, which wasn't at all like I expected. At one time the place had been a small urban grocery store that had long since closed. The front of the building hadn't changed much except that the windows were all blacked out and the grocery store sign had been replaced with a much smaller one reading The Stairway to Heaven. It was almost as though they didn't want to call attention to themselves.
But when we entered, the interior of the place had been completely remodeled. In front was a waiting area with a reception desk and pictures of India on the walls. Once we passed through the door behind the desk, we entered a large open area with walls painted a soothing neutral color and dark-stained wooden floors. The indirect lighting gave plenty of illumination but still maintained the quiet, restful feeling of the area. In the back were several doors which I presumed led to offices and conference rooms.
The big open area had been set up with chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a large wooden platform. There must have been two dozen other women present. As Julie and I found some empty seats, I noticed that there was some kind of Eastern music playing through a hidden speaker system.
Just then, the music died away, one of the doors opened, and a white-robed Indian man came out and stepped onto the platform.
If the ashram wasn't what I had expected, that went double for Master Sativa. I had been looking for an old man with a white beard draped over a bulging belly; what I saw was a handsome young man, clean-shaven with dark, curly hair. His robe was untied, and as he walked around the platform, bowing to different sections of the audience, we could see he was wearing nothing underneath but a kind of white loincloth. His skin appeared to be oiled, and his pectoral and abdominal muscles glistened as he moved. I heard murmurs coming from some of the other women in the audience.
I leaned over to Julie. "Wow, what a hunk. He's really built!"