People say they’re going “off the grid” all the time and I just roll my eyes. Usually it means they won’t be posting on social media and checking their phones quite as obsessively. Occasionally it means they’re going camping or to the sea—what in the olden days we called “going on vacation.” But when I do Ruby Intuition readings, I go off the grid whether I like it or not. Real Carrie shite is the norm–lightbulbs pop, technology fritzes, brand-new batteries die, possessions mysteriously disappear. Sometimes I can’t remember close friends’ names. Sometimes I can’t remember my own name. I don’t even try to make plans on those days anymore, because I am never equipped to keep them.
I get it, I really do. I can’t have my cake and eat it too. Which is to say: I can’t blithely tap into the biggest energy source of them all and simultaneously rely on its pale substitutes. Usually by the time I finish readings, I barely remember I have a body, let alone that I live on planet Earth. I have been returned from somewhere I can’t quite explain, somewhere that glows with an entirely different quality of light, and I need sleep and food and drink and physical contact (preferably sex) to re-enter the allegedly real world of Ben Affleck gossip and political polarities and why-haven’t-you-already-responded-to-the-email-I-sent-three-minutes-ago? Electricity and grids are extremely relative.