I just realized that I’m psychic.
Not in a vague way. In a very specific and intense way.
It has often occurred to me that something that I’ve experienced as if it were my own- a thought, a dream, a feeling, a perception- were not originating from me. In these instances, it was clearly because there was no possibility of my having access to that perception, idea, whatever. Obvious examples are hearing someone speak in my ear in a completely empty house. Performing acts with male genetalia. Feeling an emotion-grief, despair, joy, exuberance- which are entirely unfitting for my situation. Thinking something which is totally out of character or that I would never think. I notice the things which are very obvious and stand out, and put them aside. But, I haven’t examined my life in light of the possibility that any perception may not be my own.
The possibility of being a psychic comes in starkly as I examine memories and experiences in this light. It occurs to me that no one ever took any interest in me- I was a quiet child- and so I never had any chance of explaining or communicating my inner world. If I had, there may have been some questions. Some guidance. Some knowledge of how these things work. Maybe even revelation of the possibility.
As I reflect on how my being may have absorbed the experiences of others, I feel it a sort of destiny that I endured their feelings, their motivations, their visions, and bore the consequences. I was like a sponge and a mirror for everything and everyone. I felt my mom’s self loathing as if it were my own. I felt her sense of worthlessness, shame, guilt, and depression. When my behavior reflected this back to her, she hated me. I felt my dad’s instantaneous firey rage, his annoyance, and violent urges. When I reflected this back, he beat or tormented me. When my mom came in the room after I’d been beat, I felt the judgement and shame. And she blamed me for my lack of repentance or forgiveness.
With my parents it’s clear and also with any partners I had, that I merged with them because of some sense of admiration or special power. I felt drawn-unconsciously- to that which held power. And I felt, as I tasted or merged with their energy, a certain familiarity. After I became familiar, my interest waned.
Most especially now, though, does this possibility seem borne out; now that I have some clear and conscious idea of my Self, that higher harmonic individuality is what I sense as the source of feelings, thoughts, and images which I now experience. The higher Self has the most authority and highest power for the personality, so the personality is drawn to it. Like the final boss; the higher Self allows itself to be known little by little by the personality. It trickles wisdom down in driblets. Because, quite unlike other human beings, the higher Self is not constituted as a random, reactive, chaotic mob of ideas, emotions, experiences, thoughts or what have you. No, the Self is a higher form of consciousness and so has a totally purified will with which to choose freely it’s own experience.
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