Overactive Childhood Imagination

When people talk about sensing that something was going to happen before it did—and then watching it unfold—it’s often dismissed as mere coincidence. We shrug and say, “What are the odds? That was so random. It could never happen again, not in a million years.” But then it happens. Again, and again.

When I was a child, I remember feeling like I knew things—things that hadn't happened yet but somehow felt inevitable. I'd get a gut feeling, a sense that something was there, waiting to occur. Yet I’d often brush those feelings aside, too young to grasp their significance. When I was about 10 years old, I saw an orb in the forest. Every day before school, my dad would drop my brother and me off near our elementary school. To avoid car traffic by the school driveway and to ensure a speedy getaway to work, he’d drop us off at a street behind the school.  We’d take a short path from the roadside through the forest to reach the schoolyard. On one particular day, I spotted something hovering in the trees—golden and glowing. It terrified me. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing, and I convinced myself I must be imagining things. I kept what I saw to myself, afraid that others would call me "crazy" or dismiss it as nothing more than an overactive imagination.

There were other moments too. I can recall several times when the phone rang, and I instinctively knew who was calling—even occasionally sensing the reason behind their call. Even as a child, I would think to myself, “Wow, you’re really good at guessing who it is!”. I used to have dreams that would come to life just days later. Reflecting on those moments now, I’m struck by how—even as a child—I clung to the belief that it had to be coincidence. I convinced myself there was no way I could truly predict events. Yet, 35 years later, I see it for what it was: a deep, unexplainable knowing. It wasn’t guesswork, and I lacked the courage then to embrace my gifts. Thankfully, I’ve found that courage now.