Psychic Hearts
on knowing and feeling things outside of time
We have an oft unused muscle inside us, able to connect with knowledge beyond time.
From all I’ve seen, it’s my firmest belief that each one of us has our own unique relationship with this well of timeless wisdom within. That with practice, we can define this muscle and yield more fruitful results.
The Order of Time, a novel by quantum physicist Carlo Rovelli, makes an effort to impart the understandings he’s gleaned from the frontiers of science in ways the average person can comprehend. Still, its an effort to read. It’s concepts are dense and hard to wrap your head around.
Forgiving myself ahead of time for butchering his words and ideas, I will summarize one thing I took away from hours spent with his text.
Time, as we experience it, shows no evidence of existing within the observable foundations of the universe. The actual, immutable structures of what we are apart of is something complete and whole, backwards and forwards. Surrounding and a part of us is timelessness. Every act we make and moment we spend is written into an eternal fabric. It’s our own limitations, built into these human bodies, which cause us to experience the phenomena of time.
TLDR; time isn’t real.
Through my own experiences, I have come to understand that there is an eternal wisdom we can access through our hearts and minds. Which would sure make an awful lot of sense, if time isn’t real.
Though my intuitions happen by way of emotional impressions, dreams, and occasional waking visions. I believe we are all psychic in our own ways, forms, and fashions.
This belief was born through extensive practice in groups of equally enthusiastic and explorative spiritual people.
So, let’s start there.
The Power of Intention and Belief
I’m a mediation instructor whose led hundreds of online guided meditations with people spread across the world, connecting through the heart.
Live group meditation with healing intentions is one of the most powerful spiritual experiences, especially as a facilitator. I feel expanded in ways I cannot fully explain while leading and participating in these containers of group coherence. Within these sessions, I’ve seen and experienced receptions of insight and impressions from beyond that have opened my heart and steered me forward.
I’ve also done over forty in-person meditations. Which are often more powerful.
I say ‘often’ for a reason though. Even spread out, on video — over fucking Zoom calls — I’ve been part of the most esoterically tangible, love-fest containers of healing. It can be done. Our hearts connect through time and space. There is nothing to stop us from sharing that love with intention, even when we’re separated physically, and forced to interact through technology.
Through this offering of online meditations, which I did with absurd consistency on Thursday nights for years, I was able to advertise and populate little spin-off events.
These video calls would be best described as ‘telepathy practice’.
The process would be this:
step one - Meditate and connect through the heart. Share good vibes, keep healthy boundaries, but open to a container intentioned in the better understanding of psychic abilities we have innately within us.
step two - One person gets a turn projecting, while everyone else is receiving. For five minutes, the group continues to listen to meditative music while the receivers use notepads to sketch down whatever perceptions come into their field of awareness about the location, memory, or object that the one projecting is attempting to share.
step three - After five minutes, those receiving share what they have sketched down.
step four - The projector shares the details of what it is they were projecting. Often geeking out about the folks who were spot on. Or, conversely, shrugging off a little disappointment because of how far off the group was.
step five - Rinse, and repeat a few times. See what you get right. See what you get wrong. Start to notice the difference between making stuff up with your creative mind and receiving things from intuition.
Lots of lessons came through this practice. Many insights gleaned from trial and error.
Internally, these lessons come from seeing how we tell stories. How we see or feel something true and then let our mind take over. How there’s a way to operate in flow where you don’t control and instead receive. Also, a lot of practical lessons on how to get effective results.
In the very first session, being excited, I took the opportunity to try projecting first. I really wanted to nail it. So, I imagined this beach I’d been to recently. And I visualized sitting there in the sand in such detail. I got incredibly granular with the experience, thinking surely, everyone would be able to see it.
Nobody got a thing right.
The other two rounds we did that night were much more fruitful. I had a really powerful experience receiving from a friend. Seeing imagery and feeling things which proved accurate.
When I asked her what she’d done when sharing with us all. It was almost the same as me, primarily visualizing the location, but with one crucial difference. She’d also made a conscious effort to bring the others who were on our video call into her visualization. She’d invited each individual in via internal intentions, showing them around, welcoming them to see.
I used this technique every time afterwards, and to great effect, never again having a round where I projected and others didn’t get at least some things correct. Often, the results would be staggering.
Another discovery was how emotion carries heavy influence. People sharing truly precious places to their heart, or memories with great emotional resonance, proved powerful.
Twice, when I was receiving, I became fully aware of myself in some kind of zone. I can’t explain to you how I knew. But there was simply an awareness within me at the start of a round of receiving, where I would be completely sure I was tapped in and channeling insights in flow. These couple of times, I filled up an entire entire page within five minutes.
Additionally, those were the only two times a part of my reception was smell. Like, truly visceral smells. Once, it was fir trees that ended up being a part of their grandparent’s property. The other time was the smell of liquor and weed smoke. On that one, the memory being shared was that of a recently attended concert, in which both of those things were being enjoyed with abundance.
Throughout these sessions, I was getting better and better, noticeably.
Once, only two others joined me, and I decided to try something a little different. I shared a tainted but golden memory. A trip with someone lost. A special couple of days to my heart, which also hurt like hell at that point to think about.
Those two people each saw heavily monochromatic black and white imagery. Darkest darks and brightest brights. Light shining from within walls of darkness, a barrier of light and dark, etc. They were both really excited about how they’d seen the same exact same kind of imagery.
I’ll be damned if that imagery didn’t resonate with the conflicting feelings I had inside and was sharing, while serving as a metaphor for a time spent in such light and peace, beneath looming clouds of darkness — as I would stop being friends with that person shortly after our trip.
One time, me and this other woman were both very off during a receiving session, but each saw vivid violet pyramids.
No idea what that was about. How very cool though. I was like, “Yo, where did we go together? Are we friends now?”
I also remember a woman who shared an object in her hand that nobody got a single thing correct about. The object was a fork. She’d just pulled out of a drawer. Less emotional attachment yielded lesser results, always.
One of the most powerful sessions saw a spiritual leader and teacher project, to share something the group completely nailed, top-to-bottom. I myself had a sheet that was proven entirely accurate.
Her memory was the day she’d reconnected with her son after many years apart. The power of that reconciliation and healing was one we all received a part of. The sights and feelings I got from that day are still with me.
Still, the way we receive, how it is each one of us sees and feels intuition, varies by each person.
My Own Way of Seeing
Outside of these practice containers with nerdy spiritual friends, I’ve had experiences in my life prove fundamental to my growing understanding of psychic phenomena. As those of you who read my writings will not be surprised to hear, a lot of these experiences surround love.
The best of friends, lovers, and family. These are the people who I’ve had powerful and confirmable psychic events surrounding. Often, in dreams, other times, elsewhere.
My deepest belief is that my heart can feel things out of time, and perhaps, that it’s how all our hearts work. Lately, through a period of traumatic life-instability, I was called to do a lot of personal ceremony. I worked with spiritual energies in ways I never have before. Through yoga and intention I’ve experienced an awaking of deeper intuitive experiences.
FYI - Looking at yourself in the mirror above candlelight, surrounded by crystals, doing spinal yoga, repeating that you want to release all limitations placed upon your consciousness in this body throughout time and space, synchronizing stated intentions with booming thunder in the sky... it’s some hardcore shit. Do not recommend, unless you’re ready for a ride.
The result of this enthusiastic dive into spirituality gone extreme is, along with now having been a patron of a mental health crisis center, being empathic in ways which are hard to understand.
I feel others how I always have in group meditations. Now overtly, by simply thinking of them. Or also, when I’m thought of in return.
For example, for a day or so after posting a poem or essay, I am periodically struck with heavy vibrations off the right-crown of my head. Accompanied by achy heartful throbbing.
A lot of times I’m able to confirm this is in fact what I’m feeling, via statistics. Substack will show one additional read from a subscriber a few minutes after I get the vibes. I still check because I’m always looking for opportunities to confirm my intuitions as true or false, and further hone my ability to tell what I’m creating vs. receiving.
When I don’t see a number tick upwards. Then, I’m left wondering who was thinking of me, or who it is I’m connected to that is having a difficult moment. But I’ve learned to let it go, cause the vibes just keep coming.
Apart from this new empathetic clairvoyance I’ve been navigating, are personal experiences which have been very important to my developing understanding.
Before I separated from my ex-wife, I had some sad moments of emotional infidelity. In the first instance, I reached out to an old flame and started a conversation in a pretty pathetic attempt at an emotional affair. In the later instance, right before the actual collapse of the relationship, I got onto a dating app and matched with someone before panicking and deleting the account.
These are my shames.
Yet, in both instances, my ex dreamt very clearly of my betrayals, and woke distraught to tell me about her painful dreams, which happened to be true to their very details.
Another time, there was a dream where I said emphatically, as if an announcement to self, “This is my favorite fucking album ever”. Then, turned to see an album cover from the musical artist Rhye. I’d listened to some of their work before, but never had love for their music like in the dream. I looked them up to discover they had a new album coming out that month.
When it came out and I’d listened, it just didn’t click. I was disappointed.
A year or so passes, and my egg has cracked, I’m transitioning. No longer am I suppressing all parts of me which feel too feminine. All of a sudden the memory of that dream comes back to me, so, I try the album again, and I’m immediately obsessed.
Maybe a month later, the album’s playing and I’m having the best day. In a truly ecstatic situation with my ex, just tons of joy and passion. The words rose up to be said so naturally within me, stopping myself just short, laughing in realization that this was the very moment from my dream. I said them anyway, “This is my favorite fucking album ever,” right as I turned and looked towards a television that had the album cover displayed prominently on it.
It was so clear to me, in that place of purest joy, why a moment of such great levity would be remembered out of time.
Once, I was driving down the road and thought of telling my dad about some nerdy spiritual stuff I was getting into. Which was a bizarre thought to me. To consider telling him about it spurred the most clear imagery of embracing him in his back yard. Flashes seen so vividly, all while behind the wheel.
I called him in the car, right then. Told him on the spot about this spiritual stuff I thought he’d have no interest in. To my greatest surprise, he’d been secretly getting into spiritual philosophy himself, and was incredibly excited I’d called. So, he invited me over, and we shared that hug on his back porch less than a week later.
That was the first time in my life I felt like I’d broken through on an emotional level with my father.
Before my marriage ended, I dreamt of walking into a big room with lots of people, spotting someone out ahead of me across the space. It was this gorgeous tomboy in a backwards hat and tank top. They turned and saw me. Got up, walked over with the most passionate eye contact, then kissed me like I’ve never been kissed. I felt like I was theirs in a tangible way I’ve always wanted to feel. Possessed in a kind of romantic sense. They made me feel so much a woman.
The end of the dream was me staring at their face, studying it. I woke up remembering the details. They were classically beautiful in a really stunning way. Like a model’s facial structure, but also boyish. Their energy was such a vibe — very masculine aura.
I knew I would recognize this person if I met them. They were singular.
So, separated for real, I start dating and swiping on apps. Every time I see a backwards hat I go into investigation mode. But nobody fits the bill. Nobody’s that person.
Last May I see somebody pop up on Tinder. And it’s scary how legitimately they seem to be the person from my dream. It’s one-hundred percent the vibe. Nothing about what I see contradicts anything in the dream. So, I swipe right to see what happens.
What do you know, we match. What do you know, it’s a fluid conversation. What do you know, they want to meet up.
Then they stood me up, before spinning a story about it. So, I rescheduled with them, and they stood me up again. Ghosting.
Of course, as a riled-up brokenhearted bitch does, I go the fuck at them with my words. Fully expecting it to be the end of this relationship because of how messy I’m being about it.
To my surprise, they actually apologize, and admit to me they are an alcoholic. It’s extremely vulnerable. The conversation went on, we actually texted a ton the next few days, it got intensely sweet. It made me care for them. And of course, that dream ever compelled me forward. So, I did end up meeting them, and the bullshit that ensued is an essay I’ve already written.
It was the person from my dream, no doubt. There could be no other. Mystery solved. The whole vibe was there. They literally used to be a model, which is a sad story, not a happy one.
They just don’t look like they did in the dream. In the dream they were a far healthier person.
Driving home after the first time they had drunkenly told me they loved me, it still meaning a lot because I could tell they were speaking truth — also heartbroken, because I knew they wouldn’t remember it and I still felt so alone around them as they were — the thought of that dream had me cry so hard. I just realized that it was still a long ways away, if real at all.
I still hope that dream may be true in the future. This person is a friend to me to this day, even after going through some horrendous shit together, even not hearing from them for weeks at a time while they struggle. I’ve seen their worst and they’ve seen mine. Still, they’ve told me point blank that they want to get better so we can be together. I’ve told them I’m here for trying that if they get healthy. But they’re not, and I’m not waiting around, and my heart can’t handle sharing moments with them which they don’t remember later. So, we don’t see each other.
Wherever that relationship goes. The dream I had was clearly me connecting ahead of time with a person I now love, for better or worse.
Another way I experience my intuition and this newfound empathy, is in my writing. I can feel y’all reading these essays and poems, which are often highly emotional pieces to me. I’m putting a lot of heart and tears into them. When someone is emotionally engaging it strikes me energetically.
I’ve given up trying to figure out the ‘how’s’ and ‘when’s’ for the most part. I just take little confirmations where I can get them and don’t stress the things I don’t understand.
Still, the most tangible times I feel people are when I’m actually doing the writing. Like, right now. In fact, I often write while feeling all kinds of vibes coming back at me.
Most often though, I find myself centering in on one person. A person I write to in these works constantly, who somehow always inspires the most effort and artistry to pour from me.
Trust, I feel the collective groan from the peanut gallery.
Not This Bitch Again
Seriously though, hold my beer a sec.
This someone who I always write about, there’s a reason I do. When I’m writing and editing these pieces, like right now, I can often feel them reacting to things which only they would understand or have intense emotional resonance with.
So, when I feel that one very specific emotional reaction, it’s like I can tune into their perspective of reading this some day in the future. Also, I miss them an awful lot. So, being able to feel them this way is probably why I write so much. It feels good to connect with them somehow, even if it’s a psychic perception of the future. I’m just that lonely, apparently.
I don’t know how or when, but I believe to my core that they someday read a lot of what I’ve written here.
Often, I will still doubt this, struggling to dissolve my worries it’s not just more projection of hurt. Especially considering the level of my own attachment.
Yet, there are times where it’s clear as day, I’m fully aware how in flow I am, just like I was in those nerdy sessions with my spiritual friends. Sometimes, in the cruelest of confirmations, I even smell their fucking scent when I feel those reactions.
In most of my writing, even the few pieces which seemingly have nothing to do with her, I tend to sneak stuff in there. When writing and proof-reading, I will sometimes feel the strongest external reactions to those things that only they would understand.
When it’s directly about them, I often feel like I’m crying beside them as I write.
I mean like, right now, as I’m re-reading this and editing it, my chest is so unbelievably tight and my crown is alight with vibes. Somebody out there has half-a-fucking-heart-attack reading this.
If and when you’re here. Hi, Mary!
Yeah, see. That feels like she’s definitely here at some point.
Since there’s a part of me that thinks they may occasionally check in on these posts in the present, even though I’m more firmly rooted in the belief they read this all somewhere down the road — but mostly because I’m just a messy bitch — I planned to write something provocative directly to them on their birthday. Which, considering it was the anniversary of a meaningful time we’d spent together, a time of brightest lights and darkest darks (cough cough), part of me thought it might be a day she’d snoop on me. If that’s in fact something she ever does.
I totally misremembered their birthday though! I pushed it back a month in my head.
Last month, I’m suffering heartache from a flash-in-the-pan romance which I thought was the first honest and good thing to come into my romantic life a long time. Finally, somebody who treated me right. Who saw me and made me feel like a woman in those special ways. Who wasn’t also a drunk or a dummy.
We got too heavy too fast though, panic ensued, first fight turned into a last fight at the snap of a finger — trip away for a weekend got canceled the day before we were supposed to leave and they have not spoken to me since. Completely ghosting out after I reacted emotionally to having unfair accusations thrusted upon me in a cruel way. Another layer of broken heartedness that honestly felt like it might break me in whole for a moment.
Anyway, I was extra heartbroken and going through it, finding ways to let go all the new hurt I had broiling on the surface, and I have the most cruelly peaceful dream of just fucking chilling in a living room with Mary. (I’m just gonna say your name for the rest of this one)
Nothing to the dream really, I just felt so at peace around them. She was watching TV and talking about whatever was on. And I’m just… happy.
So, I wake up — and ouch, that sucks — could’ve stayed in that dream a lot longer. But also, boy, did it get me over those newfound feelings of heartache right quick. Took me back to the old familiar hurt, ole' faithful. Reminding me in a tactile and experiential sense, how the way my heart felt around her was still far beyond anything I’ve felt with another.
So, of course, I write this into a poem. Terrorist I am, I decide to title it, To Dream of Mary. It’s the first time I’ve ever put her name on or in something I posted and released via my subscriber email.
Heavy vibes that day, heavy vibes for sure. Also, that poem is sitting a cool thirty views above my next-most read poem in the last few months, whatever that means. Either she peeked, or y’all just really like it when I’m extra messy.
The next night I dreamt of her again, though, my memory was less vivid. Still, how weird to dream of her two nights in a row.
Early in March, I decided to check when that trip we’d taken for her birthday was, to make my evil birthday poem plans. And I realized it had been last month. I totally missed it.
So, of course, in the moment I’m like — oh shit, I wonder what I actually posted that day? — bummed I’d missed the opportunity to be a bratty bitch and write something about them on their birthday.
Intuition sure had me covered though.
It was their birthday when I’d awoken from that dream of them to write the poem with their name in the title.
Thanks spirit! Appreciate you having my back on being a mess.
What Was I Talking About?
Now that I’ve completely de-railed this on a deep dive of how my intuition has intermingled with romantic emotional trauma — which is SO my main move — I’d like to bring this back to a simple message of encouragement to discover your own relationship with clairvoyance.
It’s surely to be less dramatic than mine.
Whoever you are, finding an ability to receive wisdom from beyond our conscious mind is a powerful process to lean into. It’s scary — certainly — to give power to visions and other perceptions from beyond.
A lot of good Christians would believe these are demons looking to steer you away from God and Donald Trump, our lord and saviors. Christianity, so built on disempowering the individual, and burning the witches.
Reclaiming our right to exist as powerful intuitive beings is one that changes the very way we exist within the world. It allows us to tap into creative wells more intentionally, and if you’re reading this, you are most certainly someone who has and will continue your own journey with clairvoyance.
Trusting yourself is key in this and any endeavor. As well as knowing you have it within you to be more, and consciously choosing to release the limitations which hold you back from being a fuller version of self.
It’s scary to see the edges of reality blur. But it will also set you free.
From Rhye’s album Blood (My Favorite Fucking Album Ever)
