In one lifetime, I ran away and joined the circus.
With no experience whatsoever, I became their psychic. I inherited my equipment, my wagon, and even my name. Madame Marseille.
My manager told me, “The cards tell you what to say.” So I took it from there.
I didn’t even know how to pronounce Marseille. I wasn’t French. Let alone that it meant tarot. I was Mrs. Tarot in that life, walking around with my job title as my name, and I didn’t even know until THIS life. Funny huh?
Before the circus, I was 35 in 1880s Kansas. Two brothers who helped build my house right next door to my mom’s. I fed the animals, tended the home, went through the motions. I was the fun aunt to my brothers’ kids, though I never wanted children of my own. My mother joked that maybe I’d change my mind someday. I doubted it, but I humored her.
I felt like a horse on a short lead, going in circles. A holding pattern. I wanted to travel, to explore. I was ABLE. I just hadn’t left yet.
Then the circus came to town.
I was mesmerized. The colors, the people, the sounds, the smells. This felt like home. I’d do ANYTHING to join this group. I said as much out loud. The manager heard me and offered without hesitation, “Our Psychic just died; we have an opening.”
She took me in without reservation, even though I had no idea what I’d contribute. I had faith I could do it. Apparently so did she!
Here’s the part that still gets me. The woman before me, the previous Madame Marseille, had seen me coming.
Weeks before her own death, she told my manager, “ANYONE can do my job; the cards do all the work” Then (according to my manager) she looked her dead in the eye and said, “You’ll hire the FIRST person who asks after I’m gone.” and that’s exactly what happened. I asked. She hired me. Unknown. Untested. And I jumped at the opportunity. That’s a demonstration of trust.
I joined the circus as their psychic on a whim. I’d make it up as I went along. But somewhere in there I discovered there was a knack to it. I was genuinely good at this. My gift was never saddling horses. Here I could help people, and travel, and share my life with this band of ragtag misfits I never knew I needed. They were diverse and supportive, and I loved my new calling. We were NOT the Ringling Brothers, but we made it as a troupe somehow.
I fell in love with the Tall Man. We traveled the plains together and landed on the west coast, up and down mostly around the San Francisco Bay area. We settled there. He made hats. I gave readings. We loved where we lived, lively without being overwhelming. We grew old together.
I first remembered this lifetime on my 44th birthday in BQH Immersion Training. The details have had four years to settle, and what sticks with me is this: the calling never left. The woman who ached to travel, the psychic who read cards and the slow starter who comes from Kansas-she moves within me now.
And the name. Madame Marseille. Mrs. Tarot. I carried my calling as my name and never even knew it at the time (I started tearing up as I typed that) . I give tarot readings in this life. I still let the cards tell me what to say, and I’m grateful to have found my community in this life. I appreciate you all.
I wonder… what threads are you carrying from other lives into this one? What name, what knack, what ache lives in you that doesn’t belong to this life alone? If you’re curious, that’s the kind of thing we can look for together. From tarot card readings to Beyond Quantum Healing sessions, I offer something for just about anyone who wants to reflect and expand.
