Last night's class consisted of a scrying lesson, complete with crystal balls, mugwort tea and an anointing ritual.
My instructor had three crystal balls, which normally wouldn't have been enough for a class of seven, however four of the students didn't show up. Score! We each got a ball to ourselves.
We sat down, got comfortable, and our instructor told us how to begin. I focused on my question. Nothing.
Okay, so maybe I'm just not tuned in. I closed my eyes, centered myself on the question, and asked again. I gazed into the crystal ball. A shape was beginning to form...then nothing.
I was about to give up when the instructor said, "Raise your hand if you're having trouble." I waited a moment; no one else raised theirs. I put mine up in the air, and he took me aside to talk to me.
After giving me some more instruction, I sat down to try it again. However, before getting too far, my instructor said we could also use scrying as a means to "peek" in on people. I decided to peek in on Todd.
I asked the crystal ball what Todd was doing. It showed me an empty bedroom, and immediately I knew Todd was watching TV. But no, that couldn't be right; when I left, he was in the bedroom reading. I looked again. Nope. The bedroom was empty and I had this strong feeling it was because Todd was downstairs watching TV. However, my rational mind kept fighting with my witchy mind. See, rationally I know that when Todd reads, he gets so absorbed in the story that he loses track of time. Yet, my witchy mind kept telling me that last night was different: Todd lost interest in the book and went downstairs to watch TV.
After the scrying exercise was over, I went home and found Todd sitting on the couch, surrounded by the dogs and Schmutzy, watching TV. He asked me about class, and I told him about the scrying exercise and peeking in on him. I admitted that even though I saw the empty bedroom and knew he was watching TV, I couldn't really accept it. That's when he told me that he was antsy, and kept changing between reading upstairs and watching TV downstairs.
So maybe I'm better at this scrying thing than I thought I was, after all.