Gifts from the Multiverse

We’re All Special

 I once told a client a story about something otherworldly that had happened to me and how it had changed my life. Said client promptly replied, “That’s wonderful for you, but you’re Special. Things like that don’t happen to regular people.”

Image by Ernst Fuchs
Image by Ernst Fuchs

That set me back on my heels. I’ve never thought of myself as “special”. I didn’t start out in life as psychic and I’m still not very good at it. I have led a privileged life. My parents were both well educated, sane people who loved me and treated me like a real human being, put me through college, and expected me to be successful, and I usually have been. But my successes happen because I’m fairly well adjusted, intelligent, and hard working—not because I’m brilliant or Special.  I’ve always figured that I was a regular person.

Now, my client is a very practical woman whose career requires her to be a shrewd judge of people. I suspect her logic went something like this:

I have never had an otherworldly/divine experience.
None of my friends have had otherworldly/divine experiences.
My friends and I are regular people.
The only people that I know of who have had otherworldly/divine experiences are Jesus, saints, and nutcases.
Therefore my massage therapist is either a saint or a nutcase.
From what I know of her she could be either one, so I’ll hedge my bets and call her “Special”.

However, this whole line of thought assumes that neither she nor any of her friends have had otherworldly/divine experiences. I believe that everyone has had at least one of these experiences but that they discount them as a coincidence and forget about them. As far as I’m concerned, this is one of the big problems with our society. We rationalize everything and suck the magic out of our world.

maple_leafOne of my first divine experiences occurred during fall term of my freshman year in college. My love life had crashed and burned and I was desolate. Mother Nature has always been healing for me, and so I went for a walk in the woods behind my dorm. I came to a clearing and collapsed face up in the duff and wept. There was a touch on my outstretched left hand, like a friend was sitting next to me and offering sympathy. I looked over and caught my breath in amazement. There in my palm was a tiny, perfect, scarlet maple leaf. My tears dried up immediately and the pain in my heart eased. The Multiverse, the Divine, or The Goddess—call it what you will, had shown me oh so sweetly and perfectly that I was loved. Of course it could have been a coincidence, and most people would have chalked it up to that. And those same people would have continued to hurt and continued to wonder why the Gods constantly ignore them.

Another problem with my client’s line of thought is her assumption that if her friends had had otherworldly/divine experiences that they would have told her. I doubt that they would have. Up until the past several years I would never have told anyone about my experiences unless I knew for sure that they would believe me. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy or irrational or unstable. After I hit fifty I didn’t care what they thought and started telling my stories. To my amazement, no one even hinted that I was crazy and more often than not either asked for more or had stories of their own to tell.

We treasure these stories because they are our only real evidence that other worlds exist outside our own tiny patch of the Multiverse and that their inhabitants care about us and are willing to help. They are our only link to all these myriad worlds and all the precious knowledge and insights and energy they have to offer. When we begin to truly believe this on something besides a theoretical, oh-yes-that’s-very-nice level our lives become richer, easier, and more joyful because we have outside help. We don’t have to do it all by ourselves.

And anyone can get this extra help. However, it doesn’t just come automatically like your wisdom teeth. The Multiverse may give us a few “free” pokes, but if you don’t notice them or call them coincidence and ignore them, the Multiverse will begin ignoring you as well. But all you have to do is suspend your disbelief, pay attention, ask nicely, and be patient, and the Multiverse will respond in spades. We call this process meditation, prayer, ritual, spell casting etc., etc, etc.

My life has been rich with help and visits from and to the other worlds. I’ve decided to write about these experiences and post them here in the hope that they may inspire others to suspend their disbelief and reach for—or in many cases, continue to reach for—the divine.

Because we are all Special.

Ry Cooder does my favorite version of Jesus on the Mainline. Click on the pic to play it.
Ry Cooder does my favorite version of Jesus on the Mainline. Click on the pic to play it.

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