“How many of you would want to limit your reality, your entire reality, to the experience you now know? You do this when you imagine that your present self is your entire personality, or insist that your identity be maintained unchanged through an endless eternity. (10:43.)” – Jane Roberts, Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul
A story … continued
Just an ordinary day – nothing here is what it seems
For the first time, I feel ready to express what I experienced in 2009. The events were so far beyond any sense of normal reality that I struggled to explain them at the time. Adding to the challenge was the guidance I received—telepathic instruction—to stop writing in my journal and revisit the experience later.
I didn’t realize then how profoundly that instruction would disrupt my daily journaling practice. But I could not write the story without taking the time necessary, however long that might require, to integrate my knowing.
Mind shift – Coding the Colors
During my Reality-Altering Phase in 2009, I was given an assignment by what I’ll call the unseen orchestrator. The instruction itself seemed vague: observe people. Simple enough, but it quickly became apparent that I’d been handed more than a casual exercise. Over the next several days, significant events began to unfold, complete with what felt like deliberately staged special effects to help me interpret what I was seeing.
It all started in a coffee shop. Andy and I were sitting, casually chatting, when a man walked by outside. He had horns and a tail. I froze. A glance toward the chessboard inside confirmed it wasn’t just my imagination—one of the players, the shop owner, also had horns and a tail. He was deep in conversation with a college professor across the table, who shared the same striking features.
Andy remembers overhearing part of their conversation about the college kids. The snippet that stood out was, “not knowing the difference,” spoken just before the shop owner glanced directly at us. That’s when Andy swears he heard him add, “these guys know and see the difference.” It felt like a subtle acknowledgment, almost as if he understood I was perceiving something others couldn’t.
We left the shop, and life outside wasn’t exactly ordinary either.
At the time, I was working in retail, and strange quirks began to surface. Multiple lights in my department burned out within a short span, as did the store’s exterior sign on that side of the building. It was as though my environment itself was amplifying the oddities.
Then there was the group of women in my department. They liked to huddle together during slow moments to talk about their shared obsession with the show Twilight. On its own, that wasn’t remarkable, but paired with everything else, it felt like a nudge—a symbolic connection between the fantasy world of vampires and what I was experiencing in real life.
The events didn’t stop there.
One day at work, I noticed a family of Native Americans walking through my department. They all had long black hair, some wearing braids. Every single one of them carried a bag with rainbow designs. It felt deliberate, as though the rainbow symbol carried a specific message about karma or interconnectedness.
A few days later, Andy and I attended a birthday celebration for an elder. At first glance, the setup seemed typical, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy vibe that followed. The cups distributed at the event stood out. Almost everyone—around 20 adults and children—had black cups. Andy and I, along with a select few others, were given pink cups. Among the pink-cup holders were Andy’s best friend, his friend’s daughter, a man with autism, and the elder being celebrated.
That alone was odd, but there was more. One of the pink-cup holders—the man with autism—wore a green T-shirt. The color seemed to jump out at me, demanding interpretation. Others wearing green shirts seemed to fit a similar mold: individuals labeled as outsiders or non-conformists in some way.
The entire event felt profoundly off, leaving me with an eerie impression, like something pulled straight from Children of the Corn. I couldn’t bring myself to return to that group again.
Later, I was informed that color itself was a key, each hue representing specific qualities. It was up to me to interpret their meaning based on the signs and symbols surrounding me. Over time, I began to piece together the connections:
- Horns and tails: Represented a materialistic or self-serving focus.
- Rainbow designs: Telegraphed the workings of karma playing out.
- Green: Signified neutrality, blending in, or existing outside the norm. It often marked individuals who didn’t conform to societal expectations, like the man with autism.
These symbols felt like part of a larger puzzle, an invitation to decode the hidden layers of reality. And while I may not have all the answers yet, each piece adds depth to the bigger picture.
Learning Through Experience
As I reflect on these events, it becomes increasingly clear that they’re meant to be instructional. They’re not just random occurrences; they’re carefully designed lessons. Each strange interaction or symbol seems tailored to push me toward a deeper understanding.
One constant theme from the guides during this time is the importance of telepathy. They’ve been insistent: humans will not move forward—evolve, really—without learning to improve and transition to telepathy as a primary mode of day-to-day communication.
It’s a tall order, especially considering how telepathy has been dismissed, denied, or outright ridiculed in our society. And yet, it’s the primary way the guides communicate with me. The more I listen, the more I realize their messages aren’t abstract or vague. They’re precise, often tied directly to my actions and experiences on the physical plane.
For instance, certain events seem almost orchestrated to reinforce that they’re not just speaking to me but actively observing and responding to what I do. It’s as though they’re saying, We see you. We understand what you’re going through. That level of awareness is both humbling and unsettling.
The deeper lesson here? Telepathy isn’t just about words or thoughts. It’s about connection—an unspoken understanding that transcends language. The guides are showing me how vital this skill will be, not just for personal growth but for humanity’s evolution.
They See Me
I can provide a couple of examples that illustrate my sense of being seen. It’s worth noting that in 2009, I was experiencing an intense personal crisis, which may have influenced why I began receiving extraordinary, paranormal assistance from what I can only describe as an unseen orchestrator. Whoever—or whatever—was helping me didn’t just intervene to help; it seemed to observe me closely, as if evaluating how much trust I was willing to place in it.
The interactions were telepathic. I quickly realized the source had an uncanny awareness of my personal environment. They demonstrated this by strategically drawing my attention to objects in my home, as if to say, We know you, and we’re here.
One example stands out vividly. I heard the phrase telepathically: “Bob’s your uncle.” Moments later, I saw a photo of my deceased uncle Bob, partially peeking out from a notebook on my desk. The photo hadn’t been in that position before—it was deliberately placed for me to find.
After several of these interactions, I began to trust that communication was possible. Soon, I was given instructions. On one occasion, I was told to drive from point A to point B while following a specific set of rules:
- White car = proceed.
- Black car = stop and wait until the next white car appears.
- Follow the dictated route, no deviations.
The journey was bizarrely intricate, yet I complied—mostly. At one point, I decided to take a shortcut through an apartment complex. As it turned out, this particular complex had only one entrance and exit, forcing me into a circular route.
Then came the surprise. As my husband and I drove around the central pond of the complex, we noticed a group of 15 to 20 geese. They began swimming in unison, forming the shape of a perfect question mark.
The moment was surreal, almost dreamlike. I felt a strange duality, as though I was in two places at once. My husband, who had been skeptical, observed the scene with me and remarked, “I guess they wondered why you chose not to follow their directions.”
I argued that this bizarre performance by the geese validated the telepathic presence I had been interacting with. We both witnessed it. To me, this was physical proof that what I had been hearing was real.
At the same time, it sent a clear message to the orchestrators: I was not someone who would blindly follow orders.
This period of my life profoundly altered my beliefs about time, reality, and the capabilities of unseen forces. These orchestrators presented themselves as watchers or controllers, and on that car ride, they even appeared physically. I saw them in passing vehicles—white men in dark suits, smiling as if they were in on a cosmic joke.
And yet, I couldn’t be sure what was real. Were they actual people? Or superimposed images meant for me to interpret as people?
There are no ordinary days
Never take anything for granted. There are unseen entities interacting with us in this mental and experiential landscape, and they operate beyond the constraints of the ‘rules’ we perceive as limits.
The key insight?
Time and reality extend far beyond our understanding. The rules of existence shift when we begin to question who defines those limits. The role of the unseen is to spark curiosity and expand our awareness, inviting us to explore a reality far greater than what we can currently comprehend.
Extraordinary knowing – Autism and Telepathy
Dots connecting and a revelation I could never have anticipated. However, the details I witnessed in 2009 appear to have foreshadowed the development as a future unfolding.
A hint presented in a color. Green: Signified neutrality, blending in, or existing outside the norm. It often marked individuals who didn’t conform to societal expectations, like the man with autism.
Earlier this year, I spoke with Jes Kerzen about her book, A Mind Beyond Words. Prior to meeting Asher, Jes had no experience with telepathy. Connecting with him, she soon realized the other children in Asher’s class were also connecting telepathically. So began her PSI education.
Jes and Asher are working on their second book. Follow Jes on Medium: Link, and on her blog: Asher told me there were other autistic people, many of them, who had no ability to speak. Telepathy was their only way of communicating. We owed it to them, he insisted, to spread the word; to tell anyone who would listen that the non-speakers had amazing and important things to share, and should not be written off by those whose expertise didn’t extend to finding ways to communicate with them. Link.
Another resource amplifying the connection between autism and telepathy.
The Telepathy Tapes: This podcast series explores the abilities of non-speaking people with autism, including telepathy and otherworldly perceptions. Host Ky Dickens embarks on a mind-bending journey into the mysterious world of telepathy in non-speaking individuals with autism. Through personal stories and expert interviews, Dickens uncovers a phenomenon she never thought possible—a hidden form of communication that defies mainstream science. Link.
“To know what you want to share with the world because something has been transmitted to you is to know loneliness and real solitude, because no one else can share it.” – Ingo Swann, Penetration: Special Edition Updated: The Question of Extraterrestrial and Human Telepathy
Share it anyway.
And access another sort of kinship that transcends physical limitation.
Conscious Living & Wendy's Coffeehouse 