listening to the echoes

Writing Prompt: Gut Feeling
When’s the last time you followed your instinct despite not being sure it was the right thing to do? Did it end up being the right call?

I’m a tad psychic, so I’ve learned to trust what the universe, or my ancestors, or the collective presence that is the All, send my way. At times I will call it instinct out of cultural habit, but in truth, it’s like an echo through time or space that tells me what I need to know, or in some cases, reminds me of what I’ve forgotten. I don’t hear the messages as audible sound vibrations within the spectrum, but more as spiritual vibrations. It comes through me, as though through a type of ear, but not through my physical ears. I “hear” but not in the way most are accustomed to hearing. I can also “see”, but not in the way we understanding seeing with our eyes.

Following the messages I’ve received over the years have always been the right call. When I do not listen, I find myself in trouble, or someone whom I should have warned is caught off guard. I rarely, however, give information to people, especially strangers, without an invitation. I believe it to be intrusive to do so. If there is imminent mortal danger, I might drop a hint in a way that does not divulge details. But I very rarely do that, particularly with people who are not family or close friends. I also cannot yet control what comes. Someone may ask me to tell them what I see where they are concerned. But it doesn’t work that way for me. It comes when it comes. There are days when nothing much really comes. Other days, I am flooded with information that disrupts my ability to focus on my work.

I listen to what I receive, whether it be direct instructions requiring action or simply information I can later use to understand an aspect of the world that was once unfamiliar or unknown to me. There was a time when it was unnerving. But I’ve learned to accept it and treat it as a natural part of who I am. I know things, strange things at times, things I shouldn’t know either in advance, or at all for that matter. Maybe the messages come from my ancestors trying to speak to me. Maybe it is information from the Akashic Records. Maybe they are latent echoes or vestiges of life forces from a distant past that ripple through space and relative time, and land on those who are open to the vibrations passing through. I don’t have the answers, but I know what I live. Some people call it a gift. In this often insane, judgmental and disbelieving culture, it feels like less of a gift and more a burden. But it is my journey and I’m fine with it.

The one thing I will often ask people when they speak of impossible things (as it pertains to psychic abilities) is this—are you here? Don’t you exist in a world, in a solar system, in a galaxy, in a universe you have yet to fathom? One you have yet to find another intelligent living thing in besides what is here on Earth? You…are…here. And no matter your beliefs, evolution or creation, you know neither for sure. Our existence is magical and mysterious and amazing and beautiful and painful and unfathomable. It cannot be confirmed definitively to put anyone’s beliefs or scientific research to rest. Yet, you are here. How can anything else that comes after your existence be impossible?

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