When I was a little girl, I could fly.
I’m not talking about the times my dad would lift me in the air and twirl me above the crowd, nor about my great big imagination carrying me off to faraway places.
I’m telling you heart-to-heart, hand-to-God: I flew. I realize it sounds preposterous, impossible. I don’t understand it myself, but have such vivid memories of it that I’ve never doubted it. And that’s saying something, because I’ve doubted a lot about my lifetime of paranormal, hard-to-believe experiences.
I can still feel myself, primarily while I was four- to eight-years-old, sitting on the front step of my childhood home, frequently aware of otherworldly beings in my midst – loving protectors, ethereal guardians. They kept me company, made me feel safe and sometimes, on my favorite days, they helped me fly. Only up and down the sidewalk of our tree-lined avenue, mind you; they were very respectful of my parents’ rules – no leaving our side of the street!
All I had to do was move my arms like I was swimming the breaststroke to pull my body forward. I could see the sidewalk three or four feet beneath me as I’d make my way up and down the block. It was the most incredible feeling; I was absolutely giddy, my whole body buzzing with glee and awe. Were they out-of-body experiences? Astral travel? Lucid dreams? I have no idea. They felt real – and they still do, all these years later.
The last time I remember it happening, I reached the end of our block and looked across the street to see a bunch of the cool neighbor boys driving their Big Wheels and bikes in circles on a driveway. One stopped cold and looked straight at me. I felt instant panic, my feet fell to the sidewalk and I ran home. I remember how heavy my body felt as I ran down the block, and how my heart ached, unsure what he saw but sensing that I’d done something wrong or abnormal – and that he might tell others. That fear kept me from flying again – literally and metaphorically.
Over the past few years, I slowly came back into my own, embracing and sharing the gifts of my intuition and connection with the Great Beyond. The past year has been particularly big on that front; I started 2013 by choosing THRIVE as my word of the year, feeling ready to bloom in new ways. But I had no idea how transparent I’d actually become about this deeper awareness.
Has it been scary? Absolutely. Has it been worth it? Without a doubt. For the first time in decades, I feel like I’m taking flight again. I have no plans to zoom down the block anytime soon (ha!), but I want to keep close the complete joy and fearlessness that felt so natural all those years ago.
So, it seems only fitting that my word of 2014 – the one that will guide me in my decisions and attitude this year – is FLY. I want to feel free, uninhibited, and filled to the brim with amazement for where I’m going, and the support I have to get me there. No more worrying about the big kids telling on me; I’ve got nothing left to hide. Ready, set, fly.
Want to fly with me this year? I’d love it! Here are some fun ways to stay connected in 2014…
- Subscribe to my blog here so you get each post in your inbox.
- Sign up for my newsletters, which come out once or twice a month with exclusive discounts, news and inspiration.
- Project Light Year begins January 13th: your chance to bond all year with kindred spirits and joyfully spread your wings
- Book a Firecracker Call if you’re looking for personal intuitive guidance (note: I am sold out in the first quarter; next availability is late March/early April)
- Join my Facebook page for fellow human sparklers like you.
Did you choose a word of the year for 2014? I’d love to hear it and what motivated you to choose it. Wishing you a brilliantly light-filled year, dear ones.
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