THE ELUSIVE AH-HA

A fortune teller in New Orleans once told me that I would be presented with a choice in my life. One way would lead me toward an ordinary, mostly happy life and the other direction was towards an extraordinary and joyful life. He told that the choice would look similar and that it had something to do with a place and a man. By the time he had told me this, my buzz had been properly killed by how spot on he had been about my fears, motivations and desires. I was all in, occasionally making wide eyed side glances at my friend who sat nearby, a wall of voodoo dolls and elixirs behind her. We both felt like maybe we should have stayed on the touristy side of town. Lastly, he looked up from my palm and said, "you're going to be fine but if you can be brave enough to choose the bigger life, you, my dear, could be great."

I met my now husband, Mark at the same place that I had met a previous boyfriend named, wait for it, Mark. This happened almost exactly three years apart. The first Mark, referred to as Old Testament Mark, cat called me from a pick up truck after he had been bucked off a bronc at a ranch rodeo where I had picked up a couple checks and a new pair of spurs. He courted me with an obsession that was hard not be flattered by and eventually he got me to shrug and say, okay. That could have been it for me, a life full of shrugs and okays. We moved away together, left my family ranch. It was easier to be with him where no one who loved me could see.

Leaving Old Testament Mark was brave, it was hard, dangerous and humbling. So, three years later when I had cut off my blond braids and equally shed my shame, I met a man at my hometown rodeo named, Mark. He had won a check that day and took his hat off to shake my hand when he smiled to say hello. We ate pizza together that night, roped shopping carts in the parking lot until the sun was nearly up and some ten days later he kissed me. It felt like an act of bravery to love him and let him love me. One year later, on the Sunday after that same ranch rodeo, we took our winnings and got married on top of the canyons where I had once sunk into at my weakest moment. Our life is extraordinary. It is joyful and it is where I have made my home.

Maybe everyone has a choice, a fork in the road, a line on their palm. The thing that the fortune teller didn't tell me and that I know so clearly now, is that you can take either road and when you realize that you are on the wrong one, you can turn around. You can go all the way back to the fork and maybe even back down the straight stretch until you're ready to choose again. The other thing is that there is no moment of clarity, no harp song when you finally open the right door, there is no big ah-ha. Sometimes you reach the mountain top and get to look out over the expanse and see how far you have come but then you just keep moving. I don't know what my fortune is now, now that I have found my place and my man. However, I won't be asking anyone to read the lines on my palm, because as everyone who has made it this far knows, it is reading between the lines that really counts.