What If?

By: V.I.

What if we truly are all connected? What if those connections could be intentional? What if some are unavoidable?

I’ve always been a feeler, a see-er. Since as long as I could remember, I’ve been able to sense someone’s essence…what they were feeling, thinking, had experienced, what they were going through. I’ve seen spirits and dreams, loved ones gone before, and visions ranging from the distant future to present reality.

I can distinctively remember standing at the deli counter in a grocery store 8 years ago, next to a woman I’d never met before. Her whole body had a sense of falling down, of sadness, grief and loss. I struck up a conversation with her.  Even her words and voice were heavy. Ideas started coming out of my mouth to her, “You’ve recently experienced a loss, haven’t you?” Her eyes grew wide, mouth hung open, as she nodded. “It was the loss of a relationship?” Another nod. “Divorce, huh?” Nod. “It’s okay, you’ll have another relationship someday. It’s not your fault this one didn’t work out.” Her eyes teared up, and she reached out to squeeze my palm gently. I remember the skin on the back of her hand, wrinkled slightly from the years gone by, the pretty crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. I smiled and ordered my smoked gouda. I never saw her again.

What if we could all know things about one another? What if we already do? Folks say some of us are born this way. That we have gifts. Some are see-ers, like me. Some are discerners. Some hear, some are messengers. Some are healers, some the healed. It’s said we live on a different plane or altered dimension. Or, it’s because we are open to the ethereal world. The term “empath” is used to label us.

I’ve come to believe that we are all capable of interacting this way. It’s when those attachments become blocked, when they become lost, that things go astray. When we keep our true selves and our pure emotions at arm’s length, it’s the death of vibrant life. And that’s where the baseline falls. Where the expression “normal” comes to rest. But disconnection is not “normal.” Our natural, spiritual state is to be effortlessly clear, accessible and free. If only it were that simple.

I can never forget being at work, at age twenty-five, and the smell of flowers slowly seeping into my senses. Not the good kind either. It was the kind that is mixed with the pungent aroma of a funeral home. Standing in front of my marble pizza station as I spun a wooden pizza peel between my hands, I turned to my co-worker and said, “I smell funeral.” My Poppy died just hours later.

What if we knew, before we knew? What if there were hidden keys and messages right out in the open? I’m convinced the clues are already inside us. That we can raise our vibrations and lower our defenses to the point where all the information we so desperately need, but don’t know we require, can get in.

Rewind to June of 2012. I was doing a meditation on my living room floor. Suddenly, black hooded figures surrounded the house. I could “see” them. The only message I could get was, “Stop.” Two weeks later, my niece – whom I’d practiced self hypnosis and mediation with – went into respiratory arrest during a surgery. It took twenty plus doctors two hours in the operating room to save her. As the physicians told us she may not live, the realization hit me. Just the night before she’d told me she didn’t want the surgery. She asked if we could cancel it. And, I’d said an awful thing, “Don’t worry sweetie. What’s that worst that could happen? It’s not like you’re going to die.”

In that moment as the doctor spoke, I remembered the black figures, and I realized that I’d bypassed a warning. Later, standing vigil at her bedside, we willed that child back to life over a few days time. She said she could hear me in there, in that cold body of her coma. But it wasn’t any words I had said aloud. It was the thoughts I was thinking, that she knew. I had envisioned her floating over her own body, so confused, scared and in pain. She later said that she could see us, as if from above. Recounted everything we had done in the room and things we’d said far outside of it. She’d often seen me standing at the end of the hall, looking out a window, alone. And that’s where I’d gone when it all became too much. We never wondered how she knew. Never questioned it. Because, as a family, our spirits were so bonded together during that time, there was nothing to wonder about. We knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what it was. It was us. And, it was the forces outside of us. It was the tie that binds.

What if everyone, every day could have those experiences? What if we could be so open, so unafraid, that as a result we could connect to our neighbors, friends and family in ways we only read about on paper? What if life could be so full of connection, that we were operating on all spiritual cylinders? What if we could look into each other’s eyes and not need a word? What if all the puzzle pieces were in their places? What if we could be one? What if, what if, what if?

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