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Tuesday August 17, 2004: Personal: Starting off


             I should give at least some background on myself before I start into my journal notes. My earliest experiences with other dimensions began at age three, which I suppose is the first time I had built enough vocabulary to effectively record the memory.  To grow up psychic in the fifties and sixties (perhaps even in today's world), and/or to be a visionary mystic living in today's secular world, is a lonely path. 

            As I was growing up, I learned to keep my mouth shut about inner experiences; that was how my inner teachers wanted it.  When I finally went to college, I stumbled into a group of psychics -- all of whom were rationally-minded, scientifically-oriented students.  Imagine -- psychics who hadn't changed their birth names to a singular, exotic first name, who weren't drifting around in flowing robes or spouting off New Age profundities, and who had no intention of building a career around their psychic tendencies. They were serious students who had grown up (as I had) keeping silent about their inner experiences, working hard to fit in and succeed in everyday society.  To finally find others with a similar background, to be able to talk of psychic realities with the same ease as discussing classes and social activities -- what a treat that was after all the years of keeping other realities a secret.

            I did begin bringing up the subject of psychic experiences with other students -- very carefully, and in the most general manner.  To my surprise, many students revealed their own encounters: a relative who appeared at the gate of the farmhouse at the moment corresponding with the time of their death somewhere else; thinking of an old friend who had not been seen or heard from for years and years and then suddenly having the friend call on the phone; grieving over a recently deceased friend or relative and having them appear in a strange and powerfully real dream that left closure and peace; isolated glimpses of ghosts that had inhabited the old family homestead. These were simple things, and I listened and encouraged them to accept the experience as the natural part of a more extensive reality.  As for telling other students about things that were occurring within the group (the science major-psychics), well -- I knew better than to discuss that level of experience.  It would have sounded too much like science fiction or fantasy.

            When I returned home for summer break, my mother was concerned over how readily I discussed psychic realities with people outside our family.  The family attitude was clear: "Yes, it may be real, but we don't talk about it."  Probably the only reason I discovered how many people in the family were psychic was because for a short period of time I became very vocal about the subject.  Relatives would pull me to one side and whisper, "I never told anyone else, but I know you are the weird one, so let me tell you what happened in my life."  By the fifth or sixth time of being pulled off to the side for these little confessions, I began realizing just how many of the family had not only had experiences in other dimensions, but had successfully hidden the secret from everyone else in the family. 

That was the summer I pressured everyone to accept psychic realities as a natural part of human development.  I could never make a case for other family members to go public. Psychic realities did not fit the image of rational, sensible adults. In those days, a psychic was someone who stood outside main-stream society, questionable types who either made their living from telling fortunes or made headlines predicting disasters.  Not only were family members reluctant to talk to anyone outside the family, but my mother became concerned that I showed every intention of pushing forward in my exploration of other realities.   "Please promise," she said, "that you won't become so involved in other realities that you lose hold of this reality." 

It was a good promise, and kept me focused on integrating multidimensional realities into my everyday lifestyle, rather than going the traditional role of "being in this world but not of it."  In retrospect, I never did think of the worlds or realities as being separate.  For me, it was not a choice of tuning in to channel 5 instead of channel 8 on some cosmic television.  It was the choice of watching color instead of black and white. 

Certainly there were times when things became too intense, too weird, and I wished I only had to deal with everyday reality, the world everyone else saw.  I would rant and rave and ask why I couldn't be like everyone else.  But I gave up my complaining when I stopped to seriously consider how reality must appear to others. Whenever I tried to imagine a life without multidimensional realities, I could only imagine a life that would appear flat and rather dull.  Deep down, I've finally come to accept that --if I'm going to enjoy the richness of blended realities in all of life's quiet moments--I shouldn't complain about the occasional events that turn everyday life upside-down.

Posted on Tuesday, August 17, 2004 at 05:06AM by Registered CommenterThe Skeptical Mystic | Comments1 Comment

Reader Comments (1)

thank you for creating this entry. my family also has these tendencies and i was the "weird one".
i am very content with what i know-it seems to have given me a confidence that many people do not share.
March 5, 2005 | Unregistered Commenterrachel atwood

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