A Writer’s Life: Listen to the Universe

I wonder sometimes how many writers of fantasy believe in magic.

I’m not talking about hocus pocus, necessarily. I’m thinking more along the lines of telepathy, telekinesis, psychic talents, intuits. Things like that.

I was raised Catholic. There was no talk of anything like this in my childhood. I think the first time I had ever read anything that referred to this sort of spiritual, new-age kind of thing was when I read Carrie by Stephen King. And even then, I was skeptical at best.

But my life has gone in many directions since then. My second husband was considered himself Wiccan. I’ve had readings by psychics, I’ve had my tarot cards read. I own a set of Runes. I consider myself open-minded. The Universe in general has shown me time and again that I cannot know everything but to close your mind off to possibilities may result in missing things that could change your life forever.

I wrote recently about being an empath. I like to think that it has given me a finely tuned intuition. I had to learn to trust that, though. And the universe teaches me that when I ignore it, I’ll pay a price for it.

That empathy may be the reason for this little story as well:

Many years ago, when I was married for the first time, I had a dream that my husband was cheating on me with someone who lived in a trailer park. It wasn’t a normal dream. It was one of those dreams that you wake up from and puzzle through until it fades.  So, trying to be funny, I asked him that morning as we passed in the hallway who he knew that lived in a trailer. He laughed. I laughed. I kissed him and went to work.

Fast forward four weeks, and after several tense minutes of me asking him where he’d spent the night (because he sure wasn’t at home), he finally admitted to me that he was cheating on me and had been for two months. When I asked him who she was, he told me.  When I asked him where she lived, he hesitated. Finally, he told me she lived in a trailer park outside of town.

But I already knew that, didn’t I?

My life changed that day for many reasons, but for one in particular: I started paying much closer attention to my dreams.

I was given a gift in that moment, though it was wrapped in an emotional turmoil that lasted until we divorced a few years later.

The gift was learning to listen to myself. 

I’ve only ever had one other dream that came to fruition. But you can bet that I now pay much more attention to dreams that stick with me.

Magic is subjective. The Universe is forever.

Listen to it when it speaks to you.