I lived a magical mysterious life all through childhood, teenage-hood and my early 20's. Until I gave it up for "real" life. For most of my childhood I couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality. This led to a bed wetting problem that I fixed by asking myself EVERY TIME I went to the bathroom "am I dreaming?" The blessing of that particular curse was that I went from having vivid dreams to lucid dreams about the age of 7. If you ask "am I dreaming?" and the answer is YES, that is all it takes to get lucid. Paradoxically, while this solved the bed wetting (thank the gods!), the jump to lucidity somewhat increased the melding of dream and reality for me. During the day, I would often feel surreal and created little checks for myself. The most effective one was closing my eyes and counting to 3. If everything looked the same when I opened my eyes, I would know I was in reality, otherwise I would wake up and know I had been dreaming. Uh, yeah... school was hard place for such a little weirdo, let me tell you!
In the angst and depression of my teenage years, my dreams took on more appeal. I would sleep for 12 hours at a time routinely. In my dreams I visited alien cultures, went through wormholes in space, lived entire alternate life times in different bodies and learned to change the landscape of my dreams when things got scary. My propensity to want to sleep for long hours persisted, mostly due to my dream life, well into my mid 20's. Perhaps a side effect of my lucid dreaming was beginning to suspect, in my teens, that we are creating our realities. I mostly hid these thoughts, except when smoking pot with friends. And then usually just brushed them off as stoner fantasy. I don't know where I got the idea that we created our own reality but secretly, it was more than a concept for me. There were little ways I would test this. When the water would go cold in my bath, I would hold my hand under the running water and imagine it burning me. The water would go from cold to hot within a minute... In an old house with a jenky old water heater, there is no reason this should be so. The car I drove at the time was an ancient Mercedes with an overheating problem. The times that I would think of ice cubes and snow it would stay cool. One day I found myself in the valley, stuck in traffic in 100 degree weather. Forgetting myself, I stared at the thermostat thinking, "oh shit! Its going to overheat!" I got pulled into mounting fear around the thought as, sure enough, the gauge started to rise. Suddenly I caught myself... "oh my god! I am staring at the needle thinking about it overheating.. I am creating this!" I switched to thinking about ice cubes and snow and being really really cold. Without anything external changing, we were still stuck in traffic, not moving in 100 degree weather, the thermostat needle dropped back to normal. Another time, I was driving (different car) through the hills outside of ojai, where I lived from 18 - 20 years of age. I had just heard that if you are going to hit a deer, (as in, its inevitable ) you are supposed to speed up so that it clears your windshield instead of hitting it and potentially killing you. Being an animal lover, this information was appalling to me. I was thinking about it and thinking about it. Could I actually bring myself to step on the accelerator to send some poor deer flying over my car in order to save myself? As I was thinking about it I saw the detailed picture in my head of the deer hitting the front of my car and flying over. I kept thinking, could I DO that? My final thought on the subject was, "well, I guess you have no idea what you would do unless you actually experienced it." Right then, a bird flew in front of my car too quick for me to react, hit the front end and flew over my windshield in the exact location and arc as the imaginary deer did in my head. It hadn't been a deer, but it was a living creature, and the timing was just too perfect. For me it was full blown, existential "AHA" confirmation of the power of our imagination to leek out into our realities. Being that the line between dream and reality had always been a fuzzy one for me, this was not a shock. I immediately felt guilty for causing the demise of that little bird, and not being able to pull over on the mountainous road to at least pull it to the side. About a week later, I saw another bird, of the same kind, dead in the middle of the road somewhere else. I pulled over and placed it under a bush on the side of the road, saying a little prayer and giving thanks for a chance to make amends to the other little bird that died so it could be proven to me that we do indeed create our realities.
There was a bunch of other down right mystical things that went on in that same time period, but this is meant to be a blog, not a book! Let's just say some of these things were scary enough to have me shut the door on my magical life. I had to make a choice. To live HERE or spend my energy in dream time and mysticism. Hard choice when you are communing with animals, having dreams of flying around, breathing under water and traveling between dimensions. Sigh. I decided, instead, to live in the mundane world. I cut my sleep down to 8 hours and distracted myself with more worldly things. I figured I must have work to do HERE or I wouldn't be in a human body on a physical plane, right? I think this was an important choice at the time, but sometimes I regret that. I miss having bizarre close encounters with animals and dream time adventures through space and time. Ok, once in a while I still have some things happen that are in the surreal flavor that used the be ALL the time for me, but nothing near as all encompassing as my early life. I know that I choose my reality and can choose to allow for more magic. I can invite that part of myself back in with balance and in a way that informs HERE, and isn't just me flitting around with the fairies and forgetting about my earthly mission. I'll let you know how it goes. heehee!
The magic is REAL!