The Art of Feeling Better is a series of articles where the author undertakes the adventure of finding out what it means to truly be happy. This is the fourth of five explorations. Click here to begin from the beginning.
On a car ride home through Echo Park, I slowed in front of a large painted sign that said “House of Intuition”. It was wonderfully mysterious. The friendly looking Arts & Crafts house rested atop a steep set of stairs that Jung would approve of, as if the ritual to get there accessed more and more of the higher consciousness with each step. Before the steps, anther painted sign read: your intuition led you here.
How better to start an adventure into magic than to follow one’s own intuition?
So I sent The House of Intuition an email. From the website, it looked like a place of readings, classes and a shop. Within an hour I heard back—yes, they’d love to have me and yes, they had an idea of what I should do. It was called a “Ceremonial Arcane Healing” by someone who was a very special clairvoyant, healer, Reiki practitioner, past life and tarot reader. It sounded…perfect.
I parked at the bottom of the steps leading up to the House of Intuition, feeling the lowest I had in months.
The energy of my life was not feeling like a grand adventure—rather like a vortex, like being sucked further and further down. I tried to take some comfort from the law of conservation of energy: what goes down, must go up, right? Or was it “what goes up must come down?” Every experience in the experiment I was calling “The Art of Feeling Better” had shifted things slightly, but not significantly.
As I ascended the long staircase, I had little hope that this experience would be any different.
As I caught my breath from the stairs and opened the door, I was not disappointed. The inside was exactly what you’d hope a place called the House of Intuition would be. Rooms covered in crystals, herbs, books, candles—each humming with possibility.
It reminded me of a shop in my hometown where I used to go when I was 13, filled with herbs and candles and dream catchers. I had a very uncynical approach to magic then, and I loved anything occult. When I was a teenager, my natural egocentrism felt connected to the idea of being able to control my environment through spells and nature. I learned about the power of intention and how that affected control—and at that age, my spirit was uncensored.
I craved to understand my connection to all living things. I craved a bridge to the past and my ancestors, and I craved a ritual to guide me into adulthood. All things in modern society and organized religion seemed to me to be lacking. Life was a mystery to me, not to mention my own self, and I had the thirst then to dive in and try to become a part of it all.
As I meditated over my 13-year-old self, eyeing a particularly beautiful piece of amethyst, Candace appeared behind me. A third-generation clairvoyant who had come with the highest recommendations, I had been anticipating someone with a whisper of a voice, wearing flowing clothing. There was nothing airy about her. She was shorter than I was, with beautiful long air and a quick smile. In fact she gave off the air of someone deeply grounded, insightful, exact, and kind.
“Ready?” She asked.
I answered, “Yes, thanks,” but in fact I didn’t feel ready at all.
We went through the back, into another building where she had her practice room. As she took out a series of forms and began walking me through what would happen, I felt that I was in good hands.
She told me I would be listening to music to put me into certain states. I might feel weightless or sleepy for the duration, or nothing at all. She would pull out tarot cards for me; use crystals; and identify a spirit guardian, colour, mantra and more.
In a sense, I started picturing her like a spirit doctor.
She seemed in command: thorough and an artist of her craft. This was her own unique practice, combining all the skills and talents she’d accumulated over the years, and I loved the ritual all the more. I had often counseled CEOs to lead in a style that felt unique to them and here was Candace doing just that, creating a ritual that drew on her own strengths and language as a healer.
I do not know how long I was lying down for—an hour? 20 minutes? I didn’t fall asleep, but I had lost all sense of time.
After a while, Candace instructed me to rise and join her at the table. I felt slightly altered. Not rested, but calmer. Which was strange, because I had visions while lying down—not all of them nice. (Seeing things for me is nothing new. I often meditate and see images, it’s how I write my screenplays or come up with stories. I trust my images implicitly. They’re my artist’s palette).
Candace and I went over all that she had seen and what I experienced. It was deeply uncanny, moving and truly healing. We touched on many things which for the sake of the sacred, I am going to keep private. But one point that blew me away is that she could reflect much of what I had seen, either in images or feeling or meaning—and touch on some other sensitive and powerful points too.
Now, I’ve worked for NASA and I am Jewish, which means I have a genetic disposition to argue and doubt. Throughout the session I had been honestly watching to see if she’d mention anything you could find out on Google, whether she’d ask me leading questions, or show signs of doing a “cold reading”. None of that happened.
I am forever inquisitive, but in this case, I do not want to break down any further how Candace works her magic—whether she has a Sherlock Holmes ability to read people instantly, her subconscious working with her conscious; whether she is clairvoyant, the generations in her family amplifying her gifts; or whether she is just a sensitive empath who works with energy in a way that would make many of us scratch our heads. It doesn’t matter. Whatever her method, Candace spent over an hour diving into my world and offering healing in a way that was extraordinarily beautiful, touching and deeply profound. She wrote everything down, and handed me the result of our session. In that moment, my faith in magic—my own magic—and the mysterious was restored.
For days and weeks afterwards, that sense of awe remained no matter how much my analytical brain tried to chip away at it.
I was feeling better.
The Art of Feeling Better takes a self care topic each week and explores the how each contributes to making one healthier and happier. Week One explored awareness, Week Two explored connection and adventure, Week Three was all about indulgence. Stay tuned for next week’s conclusion.
(Photo by Holly Burns Photography. Used with permission).
Author, screenwriter and director, Jessica Fox’s love of stories began at five years old when reality betrayed her and dressing as Superman did not grant her superpowers. Thus a life of play was born. Jessica graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a B.A. in Mythology and Astronomy from Franklin & Marshall College. Currently, she is writing a rom-com with Unlimited Pictures based on her award-winning memoir Three Things You Need to Know About Rockets, directing a Mars documentary with Passion Pictures and is co-developing a family programming series “Never After” featuring Gillian Anderson. Her shorts been featured at U.S. film festivals and she was the band documentarian for the Dresden Dolls. Fox was also a storyteller for NASA and currently satisfies her inner nerd as the Chief Narrative Officer for HiddenGenius and story consults for tech organizations. Connect with her via Facebook.