Feeling The Future

on how yogic superpowers aren't all they're cracked up to be

You’re so blessed, dear reader.

Today, I’m going to tell you something so real, something that makes me feel so incredibly uncomfortable, I have avoided it entirely as I’ve spoken to most mental health professionals lately.

You’re getting the good stuff. Straight from the source.

So, here’s the scoop.

I did yoga so hard I have a superpower.

But it’s kind of shitty. Definitely not the super rad one I hoped I’d get.

Oh yeah, and I’m experiencing symptoms of bipolar disorder, just for kicks.

I feel justified in not dropping this on the therapists I’m speaking to right off. Because I’m not trying to get medicated out of my brain. And, in all honesty, I don’t feel like it’d be entirely unfair for them to assume I was nuts.

I almost wish I was. That’d be simpler.

I’ve genuinely entertained that thought in hopes I could find some simple truth to save me from feeling the need to figure out the nuances of this really odd superpower. But the truth is more complicated, as always with the great mystery that is our universe.

It’s the trying to tell heads from tails, the making sense of my new superpower, that has been causing me to veer into psychological extremes.

That, truthfully, along with having navigated a traumatic few years, and my own destructive and addictive tendencies, is what I believe is triggering the emergence of bipolar disorder.

I’ve had week-long states of hypomania in the past months — a BDP crisis state — without knowing what was going on. Being hyper-creative and kind of thriving in a weird way. But then not taking care of myself at all and spiraling interpersonally.

These challenges are all new to me. And they’ve come rapid-fire after having had a yogic, spiritual, energetic opening. One which continues to prove itself very real under the most stringent applications of discernment and rationality.

Moving full speed through life, trying to make sense of this, has been an incredible load to bear, and I’ve had to re-learn how to take care of myself in this new way of experiencing the world.

So, What’s My Power?

I have super feelings. Yay!

I seem to be empathetic, but non-locally.

What does that mean? Oh, boy, let me tell you. Such a fun time.

It means I can feel people’s feelings through time and space.

Not only can I feel you if you’re in a room with me, like your garden variety empath. I can feel you if you’re thinking about of me from across the state.

I can feel people reading what I’m writing, right now, in my future. Perhaps, your present.

It’s freaking people out. It’s freaking me out. I can feel it.

My heart pounds other’s people’s feelings at me. And it happens out of time. Sometimes the feelings come with really sharp intuitions about who and where they come from — what they’re about. But I’ve learned that any attempts to center in on the source, beyond that immediate intuitive reception, will be highly colored by my own distortions. I project what I want to be true onto the feelings that are flowing to me.

The feelings are real. I’ve confirmed it countless times now. It’s only my faulty projections that create confusion.

To be clear. I don’t know and never find out what these feelings are I’m being pelted with 90% of the time.

But I know I’ve felt people reading messages I sent them; I feel them sending messages back. I get a very distinctive vibe that means ‘message incoming’, proven accurate over and over.

Everything I write, I feel being read. Not only while I’m writing it, and proofreading it, but the moment I post it.

I get waves that come back as a big heart surge right after I post something that will be read. Then, a few minutes later, I can often read what I’ve written and get the feelings of someone out ahead of time. Sensing what they will feel when they read it. Who? No idea.

Then, for real, when it’s actually read over and over by different people. Altogether different sensations I can’t really turn off. My crown goes crazy active, my heart too. And when I breathe and am hydrated and taken care of physically and otherwise—I feel waves of emotion roll over me.

I have likely felt you reading my writings. My heart has likely pounded as yours has. I may have felt your laughter. Or cried your tears.

I cry sometimes when I write. My own tears. I put a lot of them into these words, no doubt.

But sometimes I read them back and I cry other tears. For things I’ve never been sad about personally. Or, days later, I’ll read something with a totally unique emotional perspective. One I simply can’t say I would ever have. Yet, still, I cry those tears and laugh those laughs.

I shared a playlist of songs with a friend. After they’d had it for a while, I listened through it ‘as them’ and knew distinctively which song was their favorite, because I felt so much more love and joy from it than I ever had myself; later confirmed by them.

I’ve read back messages I sent to people, before they’ve responded—knowing they’d been read—and felt what I assume is their feelings when they read it. Since those assumptions were later confirmed by their response.

The list goes on to be honest. Though, it's all incredibly confusing.

I still have no idea who or when these feelings come from, most of the time.

Substack statistics help some.

But when I try to put answers to those questions, I make projections. I tell stories based off my grief. And I delude myself. It can get scary and sad. It can put me into big swings of these symptoms I’m having.

How do I tell when I’m feeling a wave coming back at me from the future, versus when something is really happening?

Good question. I think I have intuitively figured that one out, through trial and error—times where it’s been confirmed one way or another.

Now just feels different. It’s unmistakable once you dial it in.

Most often, the waves are indiscernible. Too many at once, or simply out of nowhere in the middle of my day, when I have no space to slow down and be still.

Like, right now. I’m feeling waves on waves. I’ve published multiple writings today. Essays and poems that are intensely emotional. And I’m writing this, which is going to reach people as well. My heart is pounding on like three levels. And I know it’s more than me. But I don’t know if somebody, right now, is reading the poem I wrote today. Or if I’m feeling you reading this in the future. Or if I’m feeling my mom who I went no contact with sending me bad vibes. Or all of it at once.

Who knows? That shit will drive you crazy trying to figure it out.

I’ve got receipts on that.

It’s especially confusing because this comes as a new layer, over top the good ole senses. When I focus in on these waves, it dims my other sensations, and I can lose track of my own bodies needs more easily than before.

So, on top of everything. Perhaps my heart is just pounding right now because I’m dehydrated. There’s always that possibility to consider as well.

Learning to survive in this new fashion has been a challenge.

I had to immediately distance myself from all funky energies. I just could not take people who were coming at me with underhanded intentions. They were too felt.

Routine is helping me take care of my body better, even though I still come ungrounded from physical presence when the waves get too intense.

I’m also having to learn to live less in my head and more from the heart. Because my mind can’t solve this problem with the limited information it has. I can’t unravel exactly how this all works.

I truly believe I will continue to find clarity, and in time, it will be second nature to live this way. But right now, I’m still just figuring this out, and striving too hard for answers when I’m learning through trial and error is maddening.

There’s a need to operate by instinct now. So, I’m working on that.

I’m also on medication for mood stabilization to help mitigate the bi-polar symptoms I experience. Which is helpful because they make me sleepy.

When I’ve published too much, I’m having trouble blocking out the vibes, or I’ve got bad voodoo coming at me from someone in my life, I can just take a pill and sleep my way through it.

This power is emotional. And I’ve found I can direct it with a focused mind.

So, when I’m unfocused my receptions are as well.

I also think it may be centered around people I know well and have been in contact with—but I’m still working that one out.

Regardless. Even when I am focused, I do not feel psychic in a traditional sense.

Perhaps I could tell you how your future feels. But not what that actually means or looks like.

So…

How did I do this to myself?

Yoga; Kundalini Yoga. Breathwork and Intention.

I tried for years to activate my kundalini energies. I’ve felt them building for those years and had near awakening experiences. I’ve read books about kundalini awakening that put my experiences into perspective. And I’ve been taught repeatedly that awakening kundalini energy, when not ready, can cause one to lose their shit.

It looks different for everyone. As everyone has a unique experience.

The undeniable aspects of kundalini awakening are the presence of a very distinctive upward moving spinal energy, and an expansion of the senses so to speak—some developed ability to perceive beyond the three dimensional.

When I read about these awakenings. I came to understand that I’d already had a partial awakening. That my body was on the path of opening to this more fully.

Little did I know that I would go on a tea filled yoga rampage one fall, with the intentions of removing my own personal limitations, and crack that shit wide open.

When I do the same yoga moves I once did with a small energy buzz. I now feel a roiling, bubbling magma pit of kundalini energy at the base of my spine that is nothing if not creepy. It’s intense. And when I work my spine it rises up and balances throughout all my spinal energy centers. But holy hell, is it different than before.

I still think I could crack open more, honestly. I just don’t want to. I feel afraid I’d lose myself.

There are many fabled yogic superpowers. Psychic awakenings of vision and thought—rather than feeling. Levitation. Astral projection. My favorite was always bi-location, the ability to project yourself multiple places at once.

I should have guessed that my superpower would be to feel things really hard.

It’s not what I would have chosen. But it makes sense to my heart.

I can see how I’ll use it. In writing and so much more.

And so… to feel the future

There have been lots of interesting experiences lately. None more profound than feelings I have felt in these writings of a love coming my way.

Whoever they are, it’s a romantic love. It’s someone who loves me the way I’ve always wanted to be loved.

They read all this writing.

It’s really interesting. I didn’t know it before. My transness is a part of it. Not in a way that makes me feel chased after and objectified, but in a way that finds it precious for such a woman to be locked in the form I am. It’s someone who really, truly sees me the way I’ve longed to be seen by a lover.

And I feel them in music too. In so many songs, I can feel them.

The music I feel them in tells me interesting things by implication. For example, I believe they are a trans masculine person. Which is not something I expected.

Does make sense though.

There’s this one David Bowie song that always killed my heart. Somehow, within it, I now feel hints of the love I’ve always sought.

It’s a feeling I’ve only felt once in real. And once in a long-lost dream as a child. Though chased always.

But it’s coming at me now from the future, from another. Tied to some of these things I’ve written. Tied to that song. Reading and listening, I’m able to feel this love coming back at me from some mysterious perspective. Projecting onto it the only person who ever took me to those feelings—even though it’s almost certainly not them—driving myself crazy in the process.

Writing and writing, to them.

Wondering how far out they are. If they find this writing soon. If they already have. Who they are.

I put on music from Trolls for my daughter in the car a few months ago and cried and cried. I had no idea what was going on. The songs just inexplicably made me think of the one person who’d taken me to these feelings of the heart I seek. Just crying along to this happy pop music. And I can’t figure out why.

Last time I heard one of those songs I had a literal vision of being somewhere in the future, with the person who makes me feel that way, and Logan being there watching that fucking Trolls movie. And I cried again.

This is my biggest worry though. Am I just feeling myself, crying back at myself?

I don’t know.

But if I am. What’s coming back from myself in the future feels pretty great. Regardless of what it actually ends up looking like.

Are you okay, Daphne?

I’ll get back to you on that.

I feel pretty on top of things right now. But this is hard. My de-stress mechanism forever has been cannabis. And right now, using it creates enhanced sensations that freak me out. It just makes me feel anxious and paranoid about the weird stuff I’m feeling. Just makes me scared that I can’t take it back. That I’m like this now and I have to learn to live with it.

I’m learning. And I’m a survivor. But holy hell is it hard to go work in an office full of sleepwalking people now.

To take on that energy, in this new way, is fucking rough.

I need trees and water and not much else. That is what would make this more manageable, space and time and peace. Which the world is not affording me.

So, I have pills and sleep. I have my writings and the joy and terror and waves of feeling other people’s feelings… of feeling the future. Which, frankly, I’m as addicted to as everything else that offers excitement in my life.

When I’ve stopped writing. Or stopped posting. It’s gotten lonely. I’ve gotten used to being accompanied by the vibes. Especially those of this person I can feel in my future.

I’m missing them ahead of time.

My life is pretty solitary right now. So, when I start writing my novel that I won’t finish for months and months, and everything I’ve published has been read and is done with by those who will find it. I get kind of bored.

It confirms the truth of it all by how silent things get.

Just like all the other endorphin inducing activities of my life. I’m hooked. So, I’m trying to set healthy boundaries with this as I learn to live a non-addict lifestyle.

It’s a day at a time.

Though, I am high right now. And quite excited to feel people’s vibes about this crazy personal essay I’m about to post.

But hey, this has kind of sucked. So, I’m going to give myself some grace.

In summation—send good vibes please. Those will help.

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