To me, the existence of an infinite amount of other dimensions has always been somewhat of a comfort. I began researching the likelihood of these far out phenomena after my first breakup. I wanted, or needed confirmation of another realm where my ex lover and I could coexist, a realm where we were still together, where he still loved me. A coworker of mine was a clairvoyant, and worked for people as an intuitive councilor. She encouraged me to trust my intuition and ask for help from the healing energies of Archangels, Micheal, Raziel, and Chamuel. This marked my inauguration into western occultism, and my fantastic transition into creating my own idealistic reality. It was here that I was able to manifest so many of my goals and play around with my beautiful and promising reality. At the start of my next semester in college, I was in for a rude awakening. My curriculum seemed to directly attack the view of the world I’d adopted in my hallucinogenic summer. I learned about the perils of hegemonic power, and it’s way of systematically oppressing marginalized people. I wondered how to reckon my optimistic fairyland perceptions of reality, with all of the evil in the world, and wound up defeated. Reality set in, and I decided to devote my life to being a social justice warrior, in order to make-up for my privilege and naivety.
Since then I’ve realized a lot about myself, most importantly, that although my life’s purpose is helping out others, it would have to be in my own way; I simply can not follow institutional guidelines. I must find a way to help through avenues that I myself have found to be true. I have to truly believe in these avenues before I can urge others to partake in their healing effects.
All of this self-discovery caused turmoil in my inner-world. What was my purpose? Fuck if I knew. How was I supposed to help others if I was in such turmoil? At this point I had trashed the angels as agents for my personal well-being because believing in their power over my life would have to extend to the world around me, and my studies had proved that belief wrong: there is still so much suffering! I decided to switch up my track and major in English. Once I landed there, I realized that suffering is reality. What made literature important to me was my ability to empathize and apply words stuck together, existing in a canonical time-capsule to my own insignificant and melodramatic life. In this sense, suffering isn’t something to avoid, it is something beautiful.
The universality of emotions was something I could work with. This realization was the truest thing that I have ever known to be ‘real’. The duality encompasses my initial draw to the angels; it was how, for instance, archangel Raziel effected my life so much. Raziel, you see, is an eccentric wizard that comes to those who’ve just experienced trauma. The guy who sends blessings of creativity to people struck by heartbreak, loss, and ultimately change. He allows people to harness these raw emotions into something tangible. I understood the angels to be harbingers of promise amiss suffering, and at the time that I first met them, I was flowing with ideas, writings that turned to manifestos that in my mind, allowed me to be a theorist.
Now, I’ve landed in my final semester of college; a death of exploration on the horizon, trying to milk every last lesson. Although it is a death, of my institutionalized rearing, my mind is running so fast to the future. In the wake of social interactions, from the threat of the corona virus, my classes have become virtual and I’ve found myself fading off from my usual inspiration from the curriculum and my professors and have experienced a shift in it, moving home into the inspiration that comes from myself.
Instead of working on my thesis, I’ve been exploring my subconscious mind. I’ve been working on maintaining consciousness while I dream, otherwise known as lucid dreaming, and looking into the work of Terrence Mckenna and Ram Dass. Of course, this has brought me back, full circle into the considerations of multiple dimensions.
One would hope, that after all of this life experience, I would come back to the multi-threaded fabric of our reality in some way than having it function as a control mechanism toward the men that do not love me, yet as I was watching a Veritasium YouTube video called “Parallel Worlds Probably Exist. Here’s Why”.* I imagined filming a part of the video describing the evidence behind these parallel worlds to my Snap Chat story, and adding a caption: “see you later ;).”
This creepy sentiment was submissively aimed at about four of my friends of Snap Chat. It was essentially the same thing as being comforted by there being other dimensions in which my boyfriend still loved me– it was control. If i could get control over my consciousness, I imagined, I could then, insert myself into whoever’s reality I so desired.
Here lies my issue: how do I shake my innate desire to control those around me. Whether it is through helping, or metaphysical intervention, I must halt this business if I want to trust that I’m in the dimension that carries the version of my highest self!
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTXTPe3wahc
The Shape of Sometimes 