Play & Book Excerpts
A Different Kind of Vow
(She Writes Press)
© Laurie Collister
Excerpt from Chapter #23, “Psychic College”: Laurie attends an introductory class at psychic college.
The psychic institute bore no resemblance to Harry Potter’s Hogwarts school — the dark, scary castle on the banks of Black Lake. Instead, it consisted of two fluorescently lit classrooms, rented off hours from a secondary school in Santa Monica’s commercial district. But the minute I walked in, the rooms felt magical — exceptionally calm, centered, and ebullient.
“You’ve just entered psychic kindergarten,” the teacher announced to the seven students seated in a semicircle in the classroom. As she collected empty chairs and stacked them in the corner, she explained, “We wouldn’t want any vagrant spirits joining us tonight.” I tried to suspend my skepticism.
The teacher, a woman named Carmella in her forties with a thick mane of brown curls, continued, “We live in a vortex of energy and experience energy exchanges all day long. Some people ‘throw’ energy at everyone around them. Needy people often vampirize others’ energy supplies. This school teaches techniques for moving energy to achieve what you want.”
I flinched as the classroom door sprung open. People paraded in, wearing fuzzy bedroom slippers. “This is the Healing II class from next door,” Carmella announced. “They’re here to practice their techniques on you.”
A freckle-faced man in his early twenties, sporting chartreuse fur footwear, introduced himself to me. “I’m Bradley. I’m going to be your healer tonight.” He pulled my chair to a corner of the room. “First, I’ll feel your aura. It’s the energy field roughly three feet around your body. It reflects everything that’s going on in your life.”
He began to circle me, waving his hands as if conducting an orchestra. I clung to my purse for protection. He gently lifted it from my lap and placed it on the floor. “We don’t heal purses,” he said. “That’s in the advanced class.”
I chuckled while Bradley burst into gales of giggles. As he circled me, he loudly yawned and belched. Sensing my concern, he leaned in and whispered, “You have a nice aura — light, fluffy, and smooth.” I suspected this comment was a common pleasantry in the psychic realm.
“Now I’m going to release energy that’s not yours so you can reclaim your own.”
Bradley circled his hands two feet from my body, as if waxing a car. After ten minutes he said goodbye. Grudgingly, I admitted to myself that my loud, seemingly rude healer had affected me. I felt lighter, calmer, even see-through.
Then, just as quickly as they’d entered, the Healing II students departed.
“So how do you feel?” Carmella asked.
“Free! Excited!” my classmates and I exclaimed.
“But why did they constantly burp and yawn and laugh?” I asked.
“Those are techniques for releasing energy,” Carmella explained. “Amusement, especially, is like psychic Drano. It allows you to get rid of heavy, stuck energy, like invalidation, uncertainty, and judgment. Basically, healing is about finding stuck energy, letting it go, then reclaiming your own.”
“And the bedroom slippers?” a classmate wanted to know.
“Oh, it was ‘Fuzzy Slipper Night.’ That’s yet another way to keep the energy in the room light and moving. In this workshop, you’ll learn how to be healers, too, not just of yourself and others, but of all aspects of your life.
Wow, I could sure use that knowledge, especially when it came to healing the pain of my aloneness.
The psychic institute bore no resemblance to Harry Potter’s Hogwarts school — the dark, scary castle on the banks of Black Lake. Instead, it consisted of two fluorescently lit classrooms, rented off hours from a secondary school in Santa Monica’s commercial district. But the minute I walked in, the rooms felt magical — exceptionally calm, centered, and ebullient.
“You’ve just entered psychic kindergarten,” the teacher announced to the seven students seated in a semicircle in the classroom. As she collected empty chairs and stacked them in the corner, she explained, “We wouldn’t want any vagrant spirits joining us tonight.” I tried to suspend my skepticism.
The teacher, a woman named Carmella in her forties with a thick mane of brown curls, continued, “We live in a vortex of energy and experience energy exchanges all day long. Some people ‘throw’ energy at everyone around them. Needy people often vampirize others’ energy supplies. This school teaches techniques for moving energy to achieve what you want.”
I flinched as the classroom door sprung open. People paraded in, wearing fuzzy bedroom slippers. “This is the Healing II class from next door,” Carmella announced. “They’re here to practice their techniques on you.”
A freckle-faced man in his early twenties, sporting chartreuse fur footwear, introduced himself to me. “I’m Bradley. I’m going to be your healer tonight.” He pulled my chair to a corner of the room. “First, I’ll feel your aura. It’s the energy field roughly three feet around your body. It reflects everything that’s going on in your life.”
He began to circle me, waving his hands as if conducting an orchestra. I clung to my purse for protection. He gently lifted it from my lap and placed it on the floor. “We don’t heal purses,” he said. “That’s in the advanced class.”
I chuckled while Bradley burst into gales of giggles. As he circled me, he loudly yawned and belched. Sensing my concern, he leaned in and whispered, “You have a nice aura — light, fluffy, and smooth.” I suspected this comment was a common pleasantry in the psychic realm.
“Now I’m going to release energy that’s not yours so you can reclaim your own.”
Bradley circled his hands two feet from my body, as if waxing a car. After ten minutes he said goodbye. Grudgingly, I admitted to myself that my loud, seemingly rude healer had affected me. I felt lighter, calmer, even see-through.
Then, just as quickly as they’d entered, the Healing II students departed.
“So how do you feel?” Carmella asked.
“Free! Excited!” my classmates and I exclaimed.
“But why did they constantly burp and yawn and laugh?” I asked.
“Those are techniques for releasing energy,” Carmella explained. “Amusement, especially, is like psychic Drano. It allows you to get rid of heavy, stuck energy, like invalidation, uncertainty, and judgment. Basically, healing is about finding stuck energy, letting it go, then reclaiming your own.”
“And the bedroom slippers?” a classmate wanted to know.
“Oh, it was ‘Fuzzy Slipper Night.’ That’s yet another way to keep the energy in the room light and moving. In this workshop, you’ll learn how to be healers, too, not just of yourself and others, but of all aspects of your life.
Wow, I could sure use that knowledge, especially when it came to healing the pain of my aloneness.
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Laurie Collister is a counselor, journalist, and debut memoirist. After graduating from Kenyon College, she worked as a litigation paralegal, market analyst, investigative journalist, and, most recently, as a counselor on LA’s skid row. In this checkerboard of professions, she learned how to harvest the hidden – key to penning her revealing memoir. Her second memoir, about her fourteen years on skid row, will be published in May 2027. She lives with her extended family and dog, Bella, on a cul de sac in Los Angeles. |
Laurie Collister
Photo Courtesy: Laurie Collister |
