Being serenaded by a drunk soccer player that didn’t know how to take no for an answer, I had the choice of either putting up with his feeble attempts for the rest of the night or using an ancient tactic used by women when trying to get rid of unwanted attention: I grabbed onto the arm of my nearest male friend and told the soccer player that my man didn’t like the attention he was giving me. Of course this is a fool proof plan, two minutes later he was drunker than before and making out with a blonde that was quite happy to be receiving the lip service he was giving her. The guy I’d grabbed onto though, wasn’t exactly one of my closest friends however he was quite amused by my predicament and told me he’d felt honoured that it was his arm that I’d grabbed onto… so I decided not to tell him that it was because his was the closest at that moment when my hips were being grabbed by that annoying head of soccer balls! It was either grab onto his arm or do a very embarrassing back kick and turn around slap… I decided that alternative to violence was the best choice.
This is usually the part where things to wrong and you figure out that the arm you grabbed onto is even more annoying and unwelcome than the arm that had been around your hips. However, this wasn’t the case, instead I got latched to someone who had more than just your average interesting conversation.
Did you know that someone who has no olfactory has a more acute sense of taste and vision? I was intrigued to discover that a man that cannot smell your perfume can still taste it by a kiss to your wrist… or anywhere else where you may have applied it.
But before I concluded that I was once again was being serenaded to, my friend with a cute lisp directed the conversation to books, a subject that could get me going for hours. We share some of the same views on books by our favourite author: Paulo Coelho. I laughed at myself when I realized that I was on library talk at a party where people around me were so drunk that they decided to attempt to tongue kiss the poor owner’s dog! Scanning the room around me I spotted that not to far away was an unwanted admirer of mine, and decided this was the safest spot.
It was at my house; right after I’d rubbed some baby oil on his calloused hands that he took my hands into his own to examine them. I told them they were small but quite capable but he was more interested in reading the lines. I thought I heard violins once again until I realized he actually knew what he was talking about.
The left hand is your destiny and your right hand is your present… what you’re currently doing. The line going down your hand is your lifeline and the one across that one is your success. The one above is your love life line.
I was thrilled to hear that I’d die an old granny with a youthful spirit and that although I’d never be rich, I’d always have a means to support myself. A social being with many friend but who liked her solitude told me that he obviously had some research done, either on myself or on palm reading. However, it was when he got to the love line that he ruffled my feathers.
“Geez! Look at all the guys in your life!”
I couldn’t help but start laughing: “Where? Where?! Show me, I can’t see them!”
“Well… you see all these lines in your hands? These are the guys that keep trying to get into your life, but you see how none of them get into the solid line? Well that’s because you probably don’t let them in”
“I’m probably another one of those to get out the door right?” I laughed along with him but I couldn’t help the knot in my throat, it wasn’t too long after that he too walked out my door.
I spend the rest of the day staring at my hands. They say that the map of our bodies is drawn at our feet and the map of our souls on our hands. I suddenly wish that I’d studied a little less reflexology and a little more on palm reading. Are all the secrets of my soul in my hands?… metaphorically speaking or not, it scares me to think that someone can read me from looking at my hand. I wondered if my acupuncturist had seen the same when he asked me to show him my hands, I’ll be sure to ask him when I see him again next month.
Would you feel comfortable with your destiny in your hands? If someone looked into their lines and told you what the future awaited you, would you become a believer? I suddenly wondered about all these people that use a million and one methods to tell you your fortune… I wondered how accurate they could possibly be. Can we change the lines in our lives and hands? Can I suddenly change all those little lines into one solid line? Whilst fate may belong to God, my destiny still belongs to me and I choose to choose my path regardless of what may be written for me. Maybe I’m stubborn, or maybe I just know what I’m capable of and of what I want out of life… I wonder if that’s written in my hands too… if it is, it must be near a round circle that resembles a Sun.
The issue however, isn’t on whether palm reading is right or wrong, accurate or false… after all, it is such an oxymoron that it could apply to almost everybody. To me the question still lies on whether one chooses to accept the fate that life writes out for him? I am grateful for someone who can tell me where I am, for often I’m not sure on which ground I stand. It takes someone who can look into my soul to lead me to the answer, a good friend who knows my name. However, I have always been of the belief that whilst there is fate that you cannot escape, destiny is the attitude in which you choose to live… something that belongs only to how. How you choose to live it, will determine the shapes and lines that others shall see upon your hands.