PSYCHIC AWAKENING: FROM FASHIONISTA TO SHAMANISTA

Fashion stylist Colleen McCann knew something had to give when people started shouting “witch!” at her in the street. Here’s how she went from fashionista to shamanista, and found a way to merge both her worlds…

Shit got real when I heard my first “voice” in the Bodega on South 4th Street and Bedford Avenue over a fight about bananas – and I haven’t looked back. Okay, let me rewind a bit first.

My name is Colleen McCann and up until six years ago I was a typical Brooklyn girl. I lived in Williamsburg, I rode the J-train to the city every day. I brunched at Five Leaves, I threw elbows at sample sales and I had a successful 15-year career in the fashion industry as a designer, stylist, brand consultant and serial entrepreneur.

So what happens when you add “hearing voices” to your repertoire? Well, you start hearing more voices and rubbing elbows with the spiritual renegades that roam the streets of the city.

During the next fashion week, a gypsy woman approached me and wanted to further examine my vibrant green aura at her psychic salon. I darted away and she kept calling “Wait, this is really important come back!”

Quickly followed by my encounter with Joe of the Marcy Street subway platform, who came up to me and said: “Don’t worry about him” and proceeded to read every single thought I had on my mind about my then recent breakup with my boyfriend. I said to Joe “Wait, what did you say you did for a living?” He was a mattress salesman. We enter a long pause together, and he then says: “But I’m really into Astrology.” He winked at me and got off at the next stop.

The real icing on the cake came when this crazy lady on 33rd Street started screaming violently: “witch, witch, witch!” I turned around to see who crazy pants was aiming her opinions at, and unfortunately it was me. Run! I thought…but was I running from the eccentric pupu platter of NYC street weirdos, or was I running from my newly found freakish self?

Colleen’s old life involved a lot of shoes

Okay Universe, I hear you loud and clear. Time to get a second opinion – and maybe not at the psych ward.

So where do you turn in a situation like this? I was scared, embarrassed, uneducated on all subjects of mystical matters. Also, just plain fucking freaked out. But as luck would have it a random girl, now one of my best friends, came up to me in the hallway at my client’s office in midtown and randomly (or not so randomly) asked if I believe in psychics.

“Ummmm, I guess so?” I said, thinking: “Oh god she knows! She sees something is happening to me!” She proceeded to direct me to a psychic who had his mystical lair in the back of a 2nd floor botanical emporium in the flower district.

Following my nose, I soon found myself walking up a set of rickety, shabby chic stairs and swatting cherry blossoms and orchids out of my face to get to the unmarked door of my future destiny. I felt like I was headed for the latest speakeasy – one that was not yet reviewed on Yelp.

Walking in, I was greeted by a man I don’t even think remembered my name. But his black eyes locked with mine and he ran over and grabbed my hands and said: “Oh, honey you’re not crazy, you’re psychic! Sit down and let’s discuss.”

I stood, frozen, and as if watching a movie montage I flashed back through all the “WTF” moments I actually experienced since childhood. Do you remember those grade school contests where you had to guess the number of jelly beans in the jar? Well, I would guess the exact amount every time.

There was the time my little sister was playing tea party with her two imaginary friends, Dan and Carl, and I sat in silence thinking: but I see them, what’s she talking about?

Well – I may have been a weirdo, but at least I now knew what kind of weirdo I was, and I embarked on a mission to figure it all out. Which meant I did what any brazen New York girl would have done…I traded my high-heels for hiking boots and decided to get educated on all things mystical.

Shamanista boot camp…

I attended Shaman school in the wilds of the Chilean outback and against the desert back drop of Joshua Tree. As part of my training, I traveling the unpaved paths of Mount Shasta, Hudson Valley, Big Sur, Kauai, and any other energetically charged hot spot I could get to between days on set.

I have studied Peruvian Shamanism with the Four Winds Society where I learned how to do hands on healing with the chakra system and how to connect with my spirit guides. I also learned the art of channeling in the Nordic and Celtic traditions and regularly attend sessions with a group of Curanderas where I learn about plant medicine and tinctures.

In my free time? You can generally find me in a crystal shop in the back woods of Chinatown, where I learn about gems, mediation, astrology, auras, Feng Shui and medicinal teas from a group of women I affectionately call “The Chinese Crystal Mafia”.

I really put myself through the mystical wringer in an effort to work with my inner freak, but in the process I found I had manifested a whole new calling out of this adventure to reclaim my sanity. So now what?

As I continued my trip down the crystal-laden rabbit hole I started feeling a lot of internal moral conflict, not to mention external physical exhaustion, with the double life I was living. Arriving on set, it would be impossible to ignore the toxic side of the fashion industry: greed, vanity, ego, drug addiction, workaholism, alongside a whopping dose of eating disorders. Did I really want to subject myself to this any longer?

Being a fashion stylist is back breaking work. The hours are long and the work very physical. There are always a plethora of personalities to juggle in the room, and not to mention the constant jet-lag. So what’s a girl to do? I had been maneuvering this double life for six years straight, and I needed to make a shift. So instead of turning my back on the industry that had embraced me for so long, I decided to take my lemonade…and make a lemonade stand!

It was simple: my fashion clients have become my healing clients. These days, I address the underlying issues in my well-dressed community, as who better than me to truly understand the unique brand of pressure and stress they experience day-to-day.

Truth be told I was a little nervous to start telling my crew what I had been up to in my free time. Would I be socially ostracized? Would I lose my clients? As I started confessing my weekend whereabouts, people would stare in silence for a minute and then say something: “Ohhhhh, that explains a few things. When can I get a session?!”

Eureka! There was room in my life for my passions to coexist. I did however have to make a few changes to accommodate my morals, schedule, energy level and a budding new business.

Since coming out of the Shamanic closet, I started a business called Style Rituals. I use my fashionista roots AND my spiritual know-how to realign the energetic body with the physical body. I may still clean out someone’s closet, but we are removing low vibrational clothing, along with a hands on healing, manifestation techniques, altar building and a discussion with their spirit guides.

And while the majority of my work now is healing-based, I also made a conscious decision to do fashion projects with people I enjoy being around, or who’s projects are doing good in our society.

Next up? I’ll be taking my place as resident Shaman with LA-based Daily Bliss Yoga Retreats when we head to Thailand in March. And I’m creating an online webinar to help women who are spiritually blasting wide open and have no idea what’s happening to them work out the, ummm, “kinks” shall we say.

Having been there and done that, I’m honored to be able to help others that are going through exactly what I did. To help them remember who they really are, and re-gain their sovereignty – while navigating modern life in the modern world.

Find out more about Colleen and her work at Stylerituals.com

PSYCHIC CLOSET CLEAR OUT: ROOM FOR A WHOLE NEW ME

If the contents of your closet reflects who you really are, what to do when nothing’s working any more? Call in your friend Psychic Betsy to help intuit what should stay and what really needs to move on.

“Who IS she?” Photograph: Megan Gustashaw

The past two years have been a time of major transition for me. A move to NYC, a radical change in my daily working life and a slow and steady slide to the other side of 35 are the obvious, surface things. But internally, things have been shifting too. With Pluto (planet of transformation) squaring Uranus (the future, individualism, radical and progressive ideas) since June 2012, I get the feeling I’m not the only one (you can read more about THAT whole situation here) but one of the major tell-tale signs that I’m no longer the woman I used to be is that peering into the labyrinth that is my closet, I often can’t find anything to wear.

In fact, it’s more like taking a trip down memory lane in my Facebook photo archive. That dress I wore to rave the summers away in Ibiza. The jacket that felt so sharp when I landed my first proper newspaper job, but which I haven’t actually worn since 2007. If what’s in our wardrobe is really a reflection of the person we are, at times it’s been like grappling with a case of multiple personality disorder. I look inside, and it’s like…who IS she?

It had got to a point where I’d just wear the same things ALL THE TIME, waiting for precisely the right meeting, party or dinner date when a 1980s sweater covered with gold sequins would obviously be just the thing. In the meantime, with so many perfectly good clothes waiting to be worn (I mean we’re talking a lot of designer goods here too people) I hardly felt justified buying new stuff to bridge the gap. Clearly, it was time for the closet clear out to end all closet clear outs. But where to begin?

Ruby, are you in there?
It makes me look like Kate Moss, right?

Our personal style is ruled by Venus, and in my case that comes with a serious case of Pisces sentimentality, not to mention a heady dose of fantasy and self-delusion (of course I looked like Kate Moss circa Glastonbury 2005 in that vintage beaded vest). I was going to need external help with this – and who better than my friend Psychic Betsy? A gifted intuitive who specialises in finding practical tools to aid in your personal and spiritual development, I felt that with her help I would finally be able to cut the crap and find the real me.

Before she arrived, I did a brutal edit – anything I hadn’t worn for 12 months or more was up for the chop, as was anything that had been making me feel like an imposter in my own skin. Together, we then did a short meditation to set an intention for the session – basically, to make space in my wardrobe for the new, updated Ruby. We also visualized all the clothes I got rid of finding their way into the hands of women who would rock them like they deserved to be rocked.

And as we began working through the pile, several things quickly became clear. No. 1 – I am no longer the good time girl who danced her way through my 20s and early 30s in a blur of cocktails and fashion forward frocks. “’I used to wear this in Ibiza’ is coming up a lot,” Betsy pointed out. And having got deep into a decade-long love affair with the infamous party island (to the point I even edited a magazine there for two whole summers), there was obviously part of me that still felt very attached.

Taming my inner hedonist has been a conscious choice – mainly because these days I want to be more present for the highs that show up in my life – “but I don’t want to say goodbye to the fun times forever,” I whined. The answer from Spirit? “But you have fun in other ways now, and don’t you need new clothes for that?” Sayonara, frilly pink mini dresses and tiger print crop tops.

The old me: cocktails and frilly pink frocks

It also became obvious that in certain cases my “sentimentality” was masking some serious lack mentality. We unearthed numerous “placeholders,” things I was hanging onto for dear life because I might need them one day – rather than setting the energy in those particular items free to come back to me in new and frankly waaaay cooler form. Now this was a concept I could get my head around. But in some cases, saying goodbye to things that had been with me for years was as painful as kicking old friends to the curb. “So take a photograph. That way you can keep the energy of them close, but make room for new friends too!”

Anything I spoke about in the past tense was also a straight up “NO,” but of course there were some things I was seriously on-the-fence about. “So let’s do a little intuition 1-0-1,” suggested Betsy, who then had me close my eyes and picture another woman wearing and loving the item in question. “How does that feel, in the space right below your belly button?” Well good, actually, expansive and happy. “And now imagine yourself putting it on.” Stifled, stale and tight. This was getting easier by the minute.

As little as an hour later, virtually everything on the pile was ready to be packed up and shipped off to my local clothing exchange store – save for a few items I had got a very strong sense I should pass on to my friends Gabby and Gala (the three of us recently formed a sort of fashion maven holy trinity on an impromptu trip to Gabby’s favourite store, Reformation, on the Lower East Side). Maybe it was Betsy’s presence, but I just *knew* they’d love them.

The sense of clarity, lightness and relief I’ve been feeling since has been liberating to say the least – as a friend recently confided to me, “purging (as in, energetic purging) might be my secret favourite thing.” Of course there are huge gaps in my wardrobe that now need to be filled, but how much fun is THAT going to be? And of course, there’s a fittingly serendipitous P.S.

When I took my haul to the exchange the woman next to me was unloading a job lot of Helmut Lang samples, including just the black jacket to replace my faded “placeholder.” I walked out wearing it, with a cheque for $142 in my pocket for the rest of my swag. And when, the next day, I found myself with five minutes to spare in Soho, I wandered into the Jerome Dreyfuss boutique. I’ve been on the hunt for a new wallet, as Gala has a theory that an upgrade can help attract abundance into your life.

#abundance

And what do you know, after weeks of searching (it had to be red and the right size for my mini Marc Jacobs handbag – not an easy score) it turned out they had just the thing. But it was from last season so they had to fetch it up from out back, and it also happened to be on sale. For precisely $142.

Betsy Cohen is available to assist with your psychic closet clear out too! To make an appointment, go to www.newyorkcitypsychic.com