Free My Life Across the Table by Karen Page

the ankles she finally looked directly at me, “So, how do we do this?”
When our eyes met, the air in the room suddenly became thick. The cool crispness replaced with an unexplainable heaviness.
Taking the book, I looked away to place it on the coffee table, my eyes suddenly stinging with tears. I took a breath, grabbed a Kleenex to dry my unexpected tears, and mumbled something about allergies. Excusing myself for a minute, I slipped into the bathroom, certain she wouldn’t understand the overwhelming sadness I was feeling, any better than I did at that moment.
I came out of the bathroom with a couple of Kleenex gripped firmly in my hand. Settling in my chair across from Marta, I sputtered out an excuse, “Sorry about that, the tears just seemed to leap out of my eyes, it must be an allergy attack. Now, if you have something you have worn for a year or more, like a ring, watch or keys, we’ll get started.”
Quietly she reached into her purse, extracting her keys. Holding them in her hand, she placed her hands in her lap, making no move to give them to me. More directly this time, she repeated her original question, “So how do we do this?”
I had been so flustered by the sudden wave of tears that it took me a minute to respond, “Oh, yes, I’m sorry, you did ask me that. Well, I hold your keys for a minute, I do a quiet little meditation, and then I start your reading.” That wasn’t detailed enough for her, “Do you need any information from me? Like my date of birth or anything?” I guess she expected something else. Many readers light candles and incense, or want you to take off your shoes. They might request that you not cross your arms or legs during the reading, as it might block the energy. They may have a crystal they hold, or want you to hold, or they want your birth information. I don’t do any of them. I say a silent meditation that takes about one minute, hand back whatever object the person has given me, turn on the tape recorder if they have brought a tape, and start talking. Every reader has rituals. Silently reciting a meditation prayer that I wrote many years ago, is my only ritual.
I held my hand out for the keys, “No, just your keys, please. Hold on for a second and you’ll see.”
Marta watched me cautiously, as she placed her keys in my open hand. Closing my eyes, and my hand around the keys, I silently recited my meditation prayer.
There is an order to the importance of issues in every reading. It is not my decision, nor do I randomly choose where to start. The order always shows itself during my meditation, when I step into the energy for the person and begin.
If my client has brought pictures of anyone they want to know about, or documents, contracts or business cards, I place them in front of me on the table before my meditation, or starting their reading.
Every reader works differently, for me, giving a reading is like “being there.” It is as though I step “into their life” for the duration of the reading, and am with them in the experience. I seldom look at, or focus on the pictures and other things, until I have thoroughly dealt with the most important issues first. When I am finished with those, I proceed to the photos, contracts, business cards, etc.
Occasionally a client will ask if they can, or should bring a list of questions. I tell them to go ahead and make the list, but to please keep it in their pocket or purse, until I am finished. If I haven’t answered all of the questions on their list, I will gladly answer them when I am done. I have found that I have usually answered everything, and then some, on the list.
Marta brought no photos, no documents, contracts, business cards, and no list. Just Marta.
An enveloping sadness came over me during my meditation for Marta’s reading. In one small, synchronized movement, I opened my eyes, while pouring the keys into her outstretched palm, “What a lovely home you have, it feels like you have lived there all your