*As told by the Spirit Guides, because I’ve got to believe they can see auras.
Jon pointed at a woman leaning against a tree. “Look at hers, Margaret. It’s pulsing with silver and turquoise. What does that mean?”
“If I’m not mistaken, Jon, that means she’s very intuitive and compassionate. She might be a healer of some sort. That one there,” Margaret pointed to a fellow who appeared to be angry with his phone, “his is bright yellow.”
Jon turned to look. “What does bright yellow mean?”
“It usually means fear of losing control or power. Look at the way he’s pounding his finger on his phone. Someone isn’t cooperating in the way he wants.”
“Ha! Then he was never a skateboarder. If he has a fear of losing control, he’d never have spent any time on a board.” Jon turned to skate away.
Margaret shook her head. “And he probably isn’t very pleasant to be around, either.”
“Wait a minute, Jon. Take a look at the colors in the aura surrounding that child over there. That child’s aura is amazing. Look at all those colors – orange, green, royal blue, red. It’s almost a rainbow. Oh, the significance in that one! Energy, innocence, passion, courage, adventure, love of nature. I do so hope he can hang on to those qualities.”
“Whoa! What’s going on with her aura? What does that mean, Margaret?”
Margaret recognized the color in the woman’s aura – indigo. “She’s an intuitive, too. People are drawn to her. She doesn’t know why. She doesn’t seek them out. People tell her things – things that they’ve never told another person.”
Jon said, “But look, her aura changed colors when she walked away from one person and approached another.”
Margaret was intrigued. “I’ve not seen this kind of aura many times. Let’s see if it changes each time she’s with a new person.”
As the woman walked through the small crowd, stopping to speak with first this one and then that one, the colors in her aura changed. The colors all remained in her aura, but some seemed to fade to the background as a new color pulsed to the forefront. Jon and Margaret noticed a different color getting brighter as the woman began talking with a new person.
“It’s like she’s a chameleon. Her colors change to suit the person she’s visiting with.”
Jon looked at Margaret, “How does she do that? Does she do that on purpose?”
Margaret laughed, “She might be an INFJ. If so, she seamlessly presents what a person needs without realizing she’s doing it. She picks up clues from what a person says, and intuitively adjusts her stance, her mannerisms and the way she talks. Notice how the people who talk with her appear to be more at ease.”
Jon watched as the woman knelt down to talk to a child. “Yeah. That’s cool. Did you see that kid staring at her? Check out that dog hanging around her. She’s the first person, in the crowd, that the dogs notice. And still her colors change with each dog or kid or adult. That is weird.” Jon shook his head, “Do you think she knows she does that?”
“I have no idea, Jon, but I bet she goes home exhausted after walking around presenting what everyone else needs. It’s in her nature to see others and put them at ease.”
As Jon skated down the path, he saw the woman walking to her car. She was stopped by a curious child, who tugged at the hem of her coat, a dog who sniffed her shoe, and an older gentlemen who seemed to be asking her a question. Through it all, her aura flashed from color to color. Jon yelled to Margaret, “What do you bet that when they finally let her get in her car, she speeds home, locks her door, closes her blinds and refuses to answer her phone and email.”
Margaret turned to reach for a recipe, “That’d be the only way she could survive, dear.”