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It was a balmy, summer evening and the air was gently pushing us toward the large Victorian home that held many answers. We crept up the porch stairs, trying not to miss an inch of the elaborate railings and trim. My friend Maria lifted the large brass door knocker, smacked it down and soon a large image could be seen through a slender glass pane gliding toward us. "Welcome," announced the smallest, sweetest voice imaginable emanating from a large, heavy woman. "Come with me. Would you care for some tea, before we begin?" "No thank you," we replied in harmony. "Well then, who will be going first?" "I will" said Maria. "This way," said the sweet voice. I watched as they disappeared down a long hallway. While scoping the room for something to read, I noticed a lovely print of an angel holding a child's hand. The child looked happy and the angel had a loving, kindly expression. It was soothing and disturbing at the same time. It evoked a feeling of temporary mortality but alleviated the fear of dying. Looking away, I retreated back into my surroundings and the reason I was in this room. I was here for a Tarot card reading. Silly, foolish, waste of money I immediately substituted with amusing, thought provoking and cheap therapy. Finding a seat was easy as I was the only one in the room. Reading material was scarce. I explained this as a method of clearing the mind. In minutes, my eyes ached for something to view. The walls were bare with the exception of the "Angel and Child" print. Furnishings were minimal, accouterments were non existent. I was sure there was a purpose to this minimalism but I was not comfortable in it. The silence grew louder and the empty room was filling with an energy. Although I could not see anyone, I felt a presence. Then the room felt crowded. Is this "silent torture?" Suspiciously, I perused the room, all senses in full alert mode. Seconds passed. Nothing moved. I unfurled my brows and decided it was my imagination playing tricks. I needed to relax! I employed the use of a few Oms and concentrated on deep breathing exercises. Time passed. I was composed enough to notice an ant carrying a large crumb in his or her mouth. The ant zigzagged along the uneven pine flooring. The crumb outsized the ant maneuvering it to a predetermined location. What strength and determination this little ant displayed. I could just step on it and abruptly end its plight, I thought. "No, no" the voice in my head screamed.

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