So this may seem like a funny thing to say given what people know of me but I have to say it.
I live a charmed life.
There. that is the most politically correct way to say what I mean without offending or being boisterous or whatever. What I don’t want this to be, and what I think it will be because of the way I write is a case for my “charmed life.” To some of you reading, I will need to make the case. I know a lot of people that live a traditional “charmed life” and their life looks NOTHING like mine. Ok…what do I mean?
Well maybe I should just bullet point it and get it over with:
- Call it empathy, call it sight, call it whatever you choose….I see things. I see into peoples hearts and motivations in a way that can be embarrassing. Do I get it right 100% of the time? No, especially if I am in a state of anxiety. However, I am right enough of the time to be disturbing.
- Call it empathy, call it sight, call it whatever you choose….I see things. I see into the span of the universe in a couple of specific ways. I see my past beyond this life. I don’t see the way before, so I can’t give you the lotto numbers, but I see the way past…not your way, unless it intersects with me in a magical sort of way.
- Call it empathy, call it sight, call it whatever you choose….I see things. I see into the span of the universe in a couple of specific ways. I have an uncanny knack for synchronicity. Fucked up synchronicity. I feel the energy of synchronicity. It is like a river you can slide into, if you are lucky.
- Call it empathy, call it sight, call it whatever you choose….I see energy. Like the energy of synchronicity. I see the energy of animals and the wind. I see it as palpable. It is specific. Butterflies ride on a certain energy pattern that I am particularly attuned to. If you are around me for long, you know I am human milkweed.
- Call it empathy, call it sight, call it whatever you choose….I feel energy deeply and people feel my energy and are drawn in a certain way, even when they don’t want to be. It is very scary how deep. Those that are even close to having similar gifts declare me upon meeting. They feel me. I feel them. It is trippy but delicious.
So that is the sum of it. I have had a couple of magical women in my life who used to say things like, “you don’t know who you are.” Heck, my last therapist kept telling my husband, “She is an old, old healer.”
The question, then, becomes….if I am so divinely charmed as this, why am I so frenetic and flawed and loud and easily offended? Well because of a lot of things…who I am…where I was dropped this go around…the physical body am residing in with its specific genetic profile. You know, the normal things.
What are you saying…that you are some sort of prophet?
Absolutely not! In an age where everyone is getting the down low from the Great Papa in the sky….that is Absolutely not what is happening here. This is about remembering. This is about reclaiming who I am. This is about being the full measure of me….not Rachael me…but the eternal soul inside this mortal shell.
My gift is my memory, plain and simple. My soul memory is deep. It would be hard for me to go a life and not, at some point be taken over by the eternal that resides inside. That individual awareness has been around the block too many times and has eons of practice remembering. This body had certain genetic traits. Some made remembering easier…like the DNA and I have that naturally allows for easy memory. Some, not so much…like my ADHD and a freaky anger gene I had to get under wraps.
I remember energy. I remember certain people. I remember the way things are. I remember our Holy Mother. I remember lives before this. I always have. I don’t have a problem with God, never have. Not even a question. I was given that gift.
It is not always the easiest thing to have, believe me. I run from it….at least, for years I have. I don’t think I will run anymore. In fact, I kind of came to a dead stop, turned around and took hold of all I have been denying for so long. Grabbing hold of my power. I see the bigger picture.