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As
someone sits down before me, I often recognize how vulnerable
she feels in presenting me her open hands. I see it in her eyes.
Even more, I see it in the postures of her hands. It must feel
like exposing a jugular vein. Try it yourself. Close your eyes
and sit comfortably with hands in lap. Then gradually turn your
palms up, one on each knee. This is one of the reasons the reading
of hands is formidable.
When
I talk to you about your life and its potential, I assume an unusual
responsibility. In their own elegant language, your hands speak
with utmost truth and I am an interpreter. Part of my job is to
impart to you that there is room for error in the translation.
Another part is to keep your best interests foremost in my intentions.
In order to do that, I believe the reader must offer you empowerment,
offer you choices. My best reading is one that simply tells you
in a new way what you already know. My ultimate responsibility
is to be able to trust the information which comes to you through
me.
It
is not my job to find anything wrong with you, or to impose
my limitations or biases on you, or to restrict you. The fact
is that history is filled with the work of those who were determined
to find superiority-inferiority conclusions through anatomical
comparisons. Man is better than animal; men are better than women;
white
is better than black or red; Christian is better than Jew. Ad
infinitum. These conclusions were reached through "scientific"
methods such as craniometrics (measurements of cranial capacity),
or the comparative sizes of jaws and arms and feet, or the sizes
and location of bumps on the skull.
I
find that a good part of my effort as a hand analyst is spent
in counteracting images of charlatans. Whether those reputations
are founded in fact or legend, I do find it incumbent on me and
the system I use to initiate skeptics into recognition of accuracy
and integrity. Interestingly, with rare exception, only those
who refuse to submit their hands to analysis continue to assert
that it has no value. So it is, though, that I enter the dens
of human society. Hoping to offer something recognizable for its
worth, I persevere despite growling and threats. It takes some
courage but, if I put forward a jugular vein, I sometimes find
my readings permanently accepted and embraced, even by the most
unlikely members of society.
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