Out of the Broom Closet . . .

So, here's the part where I tell you how awesomely strange and cool I am.

{Mad waits patiently for the laughter to subside...}

The plain truth is, I spent the first 35 years of my life mostly in the not-so-blissful state of Oblivion. Meaning, I spent my time being very, very normal. Doing terribly normal things, thinking terribly normal {well . . .-ish} thoughts, and denying as I had always been taught that ghosts and psychics and other such oddities were anything more than a wistful, wishful mind trying to pretend their realities away into something a little more interesting.

Denial is easy. More comforting, certainly. Believing came a little harder for me.

And yet . . . I was uneasy. The world I experienced didn't quite make sense to me, and the discrepancies kept nudging themselves into my awareness. I was always having to explain things away as "coincidence" or "just a dream" or "just being judgmental" when I instantly knew a person's overall aspect/tendency {Light or Dark, trustworthy or not trustworthy} upon meeting them, or always knew when a person was telling the truth or lying. It was just my imagination when I "just knew" a person's private motives behind what they were saying . . . or worse, had something terribly secret about them pop into my head as they were talking to me, something they were hiding. I always averted my attention from those thoughts, doing my best to pretend that it hadn't happened, that I didn't know. For the longest time, I convinced myself I was simply being judgmental, or nitpicky, or overly wary . . . but just as often the things I knew were positive things, pleasant things, and one fateful day I slowed down enough to realize that it wasn't all one-sided, so "judgmental" wasn't the right answer either. It was around that same time that, through casual conversations with a group of work cohorts, I also realized not everyone had the same kinds of dreams I had always had. It was something that never occurred to me.

That marked the beginning for me. The realization that I really was different -- just like I had feared so often when I was a teenager -- sparked a quest for answers as to why. Why did I experience these things? And that quest, in turn, set off a series of discoveries about other things I experienced that I had never considered weren't normal. The way I could see halos of light around people and animals and plants and trees. The way I could feel the energy of a place. The way I drew animals to me and knew what they were thinking, or the way children would single me out at a store and stare and smile. The way I could feel another person's sadness or turmoil or anger or joy, and not just sympathize with them, but actually feel it inside of myself as though it were my own emotion. Emotion without a cause. Is it any wonder so many unaware sensitives are on anti-depressants these days?

Awareness is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the world begins to make sense in a way it never did before. On the other hand, once you start down that slippery road toward discovery, there is no turning back. And believing in things you once turned your nose up at--even embracing them!--is a really powerful lesson about humility. One's ego is very good at keeping the awareness at bay.

Oh, but finding an explanation to so many of life's uncertainties and questions is powerful, too. And that, my lovelies, is what kept me searching, and keeps me searching still.

What, you mean I still don't have the answers to all that I'd been searching for? ::koff koff::  Um, no. I don't think we ever stop learning. Heck, just learning to believe in myself has been a struggle. Coming out and talking about what I've experienced, that also has been difficult. The more I talk about it, though, the easier it gets ... and here's something nifty I've discovered along the way: Talking about something I am striving to understand makes me think about it in new ways that magically {majickally!} gels my understanding in a way that might have taken me longer if I'd stayed in my head, pondering, pondering. And maybe, just maybe, talking about such things will help someone else who is also struggling for understanding.

Not that this blogging partnership is meant to be all musing and ruminating over mysterious topics, LOL. But we do want to talk about our lives and how we deal with certain details some might view as something other than normal, when really it is as everyday normal as flipping the egg over in the skillet while waiting for the toaster to pop up in the morning.

So, what are my confessions?

I don't see ghosts often--though I have here and there. Mostly I feel them, I feel their energy. A presence. And, it has to be pretty overt for it to get through my busy thoughts. Contrary to what you might think, I don't spend my every waking moment thinking about the Otherworld. :p When I have seen them, I have only seen them as they were in life, and it was a faint impression, with color. I have also seen animal spirits that were like a wisp of smoke swirling around my feet. And shadows.

I am not what I would call psychic. I do not have the traditional visions, and I have only rarely tapped into something at will  . . . and when I have, I have not been confident in the results. It is much easier for me to just go with the flow of impressions that comes to me willingly. Randomly, even. But, I think I'm meant to stretch myself, so I should probably work at changing that.

I have many Guides, but one that serves as my main man, always on the front lines with me. And he has called me dense more than once. I'm hoping he meant that lovingly. ;>

I do have a crystal ball. It looks beautiful, shining in the sun, but I don't use it for anything else.

Much of my spirit contact has been in dream form {hence, the initial difficulty in believing in myself}. Receiving validation for dream details for the first time was one of the most powerful and exciting things I've experienced. Fist-pumping, even.

I will join Kristy on the crying couch. Happy, sad, whatever. It's all the same. Strong emotions = powerful energy, and for me one easy release of that is tears.

My family never knew the truth about my experiences, until recently. I do try to spare them most of the details. LOL.

I would love to be able to see auras in full color, but alas, currently all I can see is the first layer, the energy body, that surrounds us all. I still hold out great hopes to be able to change that.

Negative energy in people gives me terrible migraines and I avoid it like the plague. Negative energy in places gives me the heebie-jeebies, big time, and all I can think of is putting as much distance between myself and the source as quickly as possible.

I truly believe that love in all its forms and learning to let go of the limitations we put upon ourselves is the reason we are here.

And with that, my lovelies, I will close for now.

Love to all,


Mad {madly!}