Clairsentience is the feeling sense we are all born with but which is not often acknowledged as we go about our every day. It is that sense that something is not right, the disconnect between what is presented and what is really going on, like when someone presents a pleasant smile and friendly words but you feel that it is a false front.
I was feeling raw at the time because I was musing over a situation that my daughter was upset by. I shared with my friend that a couple of weeks ago my daughter had a presentiment that her father, who was staying with her at the time, would just up and leave without saying goodbye. She was disturbed by the thought as her dad was seriously ill and she feared that once he left she’d not see him again. Her dad had become uncommunicative and his behaviour had changed since he’d been told he was terminally ill. She could feel something was up, and childhood hurts of desertion were being triggered.
Then he did announce he was leaving in a few days’ time, but would be returning in a fortnight to resume a treatment program. Details were discussed, and the plan was to leave in the morning. Next morning, he rose unusually super early for him, and left just before the household would normally wake. He did not say goodbye. After a few days, he rang to confirm that he would not return for the treatment.
She had felt what would happen well before he was willing to share or, possibly had even consciously decided on this course of action.
My friend then shared how her mother had totally picked up on her distress one night. She’d had a miscarriage and was emotionally struggling with intense feelings of loss. This particular night my friend was experiencing a ‘dark night of the soul’ in the early hours of the morning, and in this moment, the pain of loss was overwhelming; she desperately wanted her mother’s comfort, and was silently calling for her. Her mother was in hospital recovering from a serious illness, so my friend had not told her about the miscarriage, not wanting to upset her and affect her recovery.
Early next morning, the hospital night nurse phoned, asking her to call her mother. “Your mother has been asking for you, insisting that you had been calling her from around 3 am, so can you please call her and put her mind at rest”. The nurse brushed it off as her mother’s delusion, an effect of medication, but my friend knew her mother had totally ‘heard’ her cry for help.
Even more interesting, when she spoke with her mother she pretended that everything was alright knowing full well that her mother had felt her cry for help, that on a deep level she could not hide her pain, and that her mother had heard and responded to her call. When asked why she could not tell her mother the truth, my friend immediately felt goose-bumps, and explained:
“If I had told her it was true, I would have had to tell her about the pregnancy and having the miscarriage, and I had assumed that my mum would disapprove of me having a baby because I wasn't married.
I was also so surprised (shocked?), in awe, and somewhat frightened to learn that my mother did feel my pain and heard my calling out to her. I didn't know what to make of it at the time as I had never had anything like that happen to me before.
Whilst speaking with Mum, I initially said "No, I didn’t call you – you must have had a dream”. Mum was adamant that she was awake and felt me calling her to be with me. However, as our conversation continued she was starting to accept my denial of calling her, - or at least it seemed that way to me! When I next visited her in hospital, she did mention it again but seemed to laugh it off. Whether she knew what really happened, I will never know as I never admitted it and she passed away later that same year. Based on 'things' that have happened since she passed, I now feel she knew.
These incidences highlight how much we are communicating through our sixth sense of feeling what is going on around us, but how we are not always comfortable with the fact that we can feel into a situation or that others can feel us. Somewhere between being the baby who feels everything until adulthood, we learn to dismiss our feelings. In particular, we hide our deepest vulnerability. Ostrich-like we bury our head in the sand feeling we are safe from view when in fact with clairsentience everyone can know what we feeling anyway.
There seems to be an unspoken agreement we are raised with, if you don’t speak about it, it doesn’t exist. What would happen if we all started to give voice to what we feel, and observed our children’s responses with greater attention? Clairsentience – let’s claim it!
*Read more about Clairsentience here.
(Published with permission of my family and friend)
Anne H., Australia