Years ago, a relative gave me a book she had grown tired of. It contained a short outline of palmistry, the reading of palms. I was fascinated with the idea of telling what someone's past and future was with a simple glance at their hand. I studied my own palm on long car rides. Each of the line's curves, waves, and breaks were captivating to read about.
The examination soon was worn out on myself. I looked for a broader sample to read. I studied my mother's hand; the lines were lighter than mine. My father had deep and pronounced lines. All were quite different than that of my own. The book guided me through interpreting breaks and curves. I learned that in some hands notches were present; small circles could splice a line as a result of a broken past. These patterns were not visible on my own palm.
I wished I had a perfect hand. There was a line in each category that I wanted. When I found a trait that I envied, I took note of it. I started drawing the ideal palm. There was a perfection that I couldn't have for my own. No matter how hard I could try, I would never be able to change my genetics that created these silly lines in my hand.
I traced my own hand on a blank page. As I scanned through each category I picked out a trait that I wanted. I drew each one on the page just as I saw it in my mind. I went through each of the four lines: heart, head, life, and fate.
The heart line was the line closest to the base of the fingers. It ran the length of the pinkie and the index finger. I favored this line the most. It represented emotional stability and romantic perspectives. The hand that I wanted had a heart line beginning directly below the index finger. This meant that the person was content with their love life. I always wanted to be settled in my life, especially my love life. I didn't want to be one of those mindless adults that went through boyfriends like water. I wanted more of a glue-like consistency... super glue.
I drew in a dark line starting under the first digit. I moved my pencil in a gentle sweeping motion out towards the last finger. I was cautious not to waver in the line which would cause the absence of serious relationships. Each stroke is very calculated so as not to accidentally create a life plagued with trauma, sadness, and regret.
My hand was less impressive. It had a line starting between my index and middle finger. I was destined for a fate of falling in love easily... not one that is always rewarded gracefully. I at the drawing and made the line darker under the index finger. I didn't want any confusion to occur.
The head line represented learning and communication style. It was the second line directly below the heart line. The book explained that a curved line showed creativity and spontaneity, but a straight line showed practicality and a structured approach to life.
A deep and long line showed that a person was to be a very clear thinker and focused. It was a gift to be able to live a life where one could sit down and do homework without losing interest. I wished that I could clearly express my thoughts to others at school. I wanted to be able to train my brain to do things in a logical order and approach them with drive and ambition. I never truly believed that I could attempt this way of life. I didn't think that I could really change the way that I was. I just dreamed of being that person everyone else wanted to learn from.
I pressed hard into the paper pushing the malleable graphite against the wooden casing. A dark gray line was created starting at the bottom of the index finger. I pulled the pencil to the end of the hand. It ran the entire width of the palm. A dusting of gray powder coated the back of my hand, and smudged my creation with ease. The shading on the drawing brought the palm to life, creating shadow and depth; it was a beautiful mistake.
I pulled back from the page and observed my addition. The line was much darker than my own. It also stretched much farther than mine. I flipped through the book and found a description for a line such as my own. It curved and sloped without a break or twist. It wasn't dark or pronounced. My book stated that a line like this was representative of a creative person. I didn't know of a time where being creative helped me to obtain good grades in science. I felt that there was no need to think uniquely in chemistry or biology. I wanted to be logical, so that I could solve problems like everyone else.
The third line on the palm was the life line, which ran from the space between the thumb and index finger, sweeping around to the bottom of the thumb. This line represented physical health and general well being. I hoped to see a pronounced semicircle looping around my thumb. A line like this meant that the person was strong and enthusiastic about life.
I penciled in a dark, round line that looked almost identical to a true semi circle. I thought of how nice it would be to be unaffected by the torment of other people's judgments. It would be so nice if I didn't crumble at an intimidating glance or a threatening question.
I had an extended deep line that rounded my thumb ever-so-slightly. The line was more sure of itself than I. My book read that a long and deep life line meant one was full of life. I was destined to be on this earth for an extended amount of time. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I dreamed of leaving the world with dignity before I reached 50. I didn't want to sit around this glum earth longer than I had to. I wanted to be done with things early. I figured that I would have it all finished by then. What else was there to do after fifty years? As a young adult, I couldn't see far beyond the age of 30.
The last line was the fate line. This line determined the degree in which a person's life would be affected by outside forces outside of his or her control... fate. It ran from the base towards the top of the palm. It was the line that I studied the most. When the line starts in connection with the life line, it meant that one was a self-made individual. They were claimed to have developed aspirations early on in life and knew what they wanted to achieve.
I stared into my hand, wishing that mine would change to something else. There were many breaks in my line that started in different places. It was nothing close to perfect. My line showed that I was prone to many changes in my life from forces outside of my control. It was a tragedy. I didn't want to be out of control. I wanted to be sturdy and strong.
I quickly picked up my pencil and made a line starting at the life line and trailed it up towards the rest of the fingers. I layed down my pencil. The hand was complete. The lines were strong and in control. I knew this was something I wanted, but could never have on my own palm. Luckily, I did take small steps in the directions of my goals so that I could be closer to what I wanted without changing who I was.
Everything that I looked for in myself wasn't always present. Some things can't be found in ourselves. I believed that fate controlled life, and any action one made against it would land them farther behind. I found the traits that I wanted, in the people around me. The drawing contained lines that I wish ran into my own palm, but mine couldn't be erased. I soon realized that the lines on that paper weren't mine, they were the lines of the hand that I wanted to hold.
