I am a professional cynic. A worshipper of science, a giggler at gurus.
But oh my goddess, the last few months have pushed me over the edge.
Ever since my beautiful, wonderful father died, I've felt like life has been playing whack-a-mole with me. Every time I put my head up, bang, I get knocked back down. At first I assumed I was simply dealing with grief and trauma, but the shit kept on piling up. Literally and metaphorically. Here's a list in order of how my life has taken on a life of its own:
1. My husband went away for 6 weeks - including the school holidays;
2. I got the flu so badly I couldn't move for a week;
3. The dog got diarrhea so badly it took a bottle of shampoo, a pair of scissors and an hour of scrubbing and retching to get him clean;
4. The dirty dog bit my son;
5. The dishwasher broke;
6. My mother's heating system broke, got fixed and promptly broke again during the coldest couple of weeks for more than 25 years;
7. I cut my finger so badly it nearly needed stitches;
8. My mum got so sick I had to take her to hospital;
9. We couldn't get her a proper hospital bed for four days;
10. My daughter and one of my best friends both witnessed terrible car accidents.
From one to three I thought: 'Bad things happen in threes, now I'm clear'.
From four to six I thought: 'That's life. I'm just feeling rundown, grieving, alone. It'll be alright'.
From seven to eight I thought: 'Really? Am I attracting this bad voodoo?'.
By nine I was calling on angels for a hospital bed. And then at ten I thought, 'ok that's it!'. I lit white sage, cleansed my house and rang a spiritual healer.
Hear what happened next on our latest Debrief Daily podcast, including our discussion about why, when times are tough, rational, atheist, cynics turn to shamans.
You can listen to 'Just Between Us' here on iTunes or below:
Rebecca Huntley explains why we go woo-woo when we feel bad voodoo (know that this is a woman who cannot read my newly cleansed aura).
We also defend and question whether foetuses have a right to privacy and the problem with over-sharing ultrasound photos.
Plus, I'm going to the Byron Bay Writers Festival this weekend …. who knows what could happen in that spiritual vortex.
Like this? Why not try ...