“Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.”
~ Norton Juster
I’ve been struggling since my fiftieth birthday, trying to navigate the last of my psychic gifts. I’d known they were coming, but didn’t know what form they’d take. It sounds like it should be fun, doesn’t it? But it never is. It’s a shock to the system, which then requires major readjustment.
On my thirtieth birthday I woke to find I could see auras around people. I couldn’t turn it off, and it has never left me. It was just something I needed to learn to live with. On my fortieth birthday I suddenly saw auras and energy around animals, plants and places. How could I walk on the grass, or pluck an apple from the tree? It confounded and disturbed me for months. Until I became used to it.
These last gifts? There are several but one has been more unsettling than the others. When I touch someone, or stand near them and tune in, I can feel all of the emotions and energies within their body. All of that messiness and complexity – the conscious and the subconscious and the deeply buried – it all courses through me until I can scarcely breathe.
It happens when I put my hand on my dogs too. Or on a tree or a stone. But those experiences are different. Those energies calm and soothe me.
I am home at my farm again after a week of being in the city. I’m so grateful for the geographic isolation of our home here. I can’t feel our neighbours or their energy unless I consciously tune in. There’s no steady stream of feelings and images the way there has been in the city, where people are crowded all around us. Instead I have silence and peace.
What a relief after the onslaught, especially of the recent deep connections I have had with my aging mother-in-law who is in the early stages of dementia, complete with paranoia and confusion.
Last night I stayed up to meditate after Ben and the dogs turned in for the night. As they fell asleep I felt them withdraw their energy, and the house became still and quiet and clear. I sat down and lit a candle, prayed for the world and then meditated with my October crystals and my mala beads for the students on the two retreats I ran earlier this year. In the quiet space magic happened. I could hold each mala bead between my fingers and tune in to my students effortlessly. In the quiet I could feel my mind and thoughts stretch out in ripples from me. I could hear the earth breathing, and the animals sleeping, and the owls and frogs and night creatures conversing with one another. I went to bed calm and reassured. I understood that eventually I’ll adjust to these new abilities too.
When I woke this morning at 4am I returned to meditation. And when I was done I enjoyed the quiet a little longer before my husband and the dogs began to stir.
There is something restorative about a quiet evening house or early morning meditation space. Perhaps you aren’t on the same path I’m on, navigating new psychic abilities without an instruction book, but I am sure that having a little time to yourself in solitude at the close or opening of day will serve you well.
Sending so much love your way, Nicole ❤ xoxo
PS – Want to learn to meditate and work with crystals, to make your own mala beads and to develop a strong spiritual practice for your own development? We still have a few places left on our final residential retreat for this year – Working With Crystals. You can be a complete beginner or more advanced in your abilities and practices, and this course will still suit you. Click on the link here to find out more.