Indigo

As a child I noticed that I was a bit odd, somewhat different from my companions.  While my friends tended to notice more the things around them physically, I tended to notice more the emotions of the people around me.  A good friend of mine, my best friend at the time, was very savvy in math and business matters— she came from a family of entrepreneurs.  She herself is one today, as well as a rocket scientist, literally.  But I did not seem to notice the same things that she did.  I noticed when she was especially happy or sad, and when she was sad I would do anything I could to make her laugh.  Emotions were very important, very real to me.  I remember a picture of myself standing next to my mother, and I was holding a home-made sign that simply said “Smile”.  That sign summed up in one word my view of the world while I was growing up:  everyone was to be trusted; all emotions were welcome; and sadness was a remote figment of my childhood imagination. 

I also remember sensing things that were not quite real but also not quite imaginary.  Back then these kinds of events were not very well understood or even acknowledged.  But today there seems to be more awareness, even acceptance, of these types of events.  As scientists continue to push the boundaries of our collective understanding of this universe, there seems to be a greater degree of acceptance that everything that happens cannot always be observed or measured.  I’ve even encountered a word used to describe these events:  Indigo.

Many times when a close friend or relative has just passed away and before I learned of their parting, I would have images of them in various activities flash though my mind, along with a knowing.  My first memory of this kind of event was when my childhood sweetheart from grade school passed away in a car accident.  As a child I believed that this was a normal occurrence when someone passed away, that this was something everyone experienced.  I discovered otherwise after the death of a dear family friend, Mr. Holloway, when I happened to mention what I was experiencing to my mother. 

The night my daughter was conceived, I had a visitation of some kind.  I was told we are all lights, spirits vibrating at our own unique intensities.  I was asked if I wanted this daughter, and I was shown her light, and I was asked if I was ready.  I said, “Yes of course with all my heart,” and her light came at me in a brilliant flash and disappeared.  However before everything went blank, I also noticed five more subtle lights behind her bright twinkling one, rapidly sparkling.  In the several years after my daughter was born, I had five miscarriages, one after another. I know they were shown to me to help me understand, and although there is no known cause for my losses, I feel that there is a reason in the spirit world.

Several weeks ago I dreamt that a good friend came to me and spoke words of loving wisdom to me.  She lives nearby (she is a writer and public speaker), and she occasionally joins our family when we go out to dinner.  The morning after my dream, we happened to call her to invite her out to dinner that evening.  No one was home.  We found out that on the night of my dream, she had been taken to the hospital for a heart problem and had to undergo surgery.  The surgery was successful thankfully and she is recovering nicely.

So there it is.  Indigo.  Which also happens to be my favorite color.  I had some reservations about posting this, but as I talk with more and more people about this, I’m realizing that everyone in the end has these occurrences – just another human faculty that we’re all coming to terms with.

"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." – Albert Einstein