When the Voice Speaks, Listen and Obey
We Can’t Go Anywhere
“We can’t go anywhere,” an ex girlfriend said to me once, “without you knowing people. Why do you know everyone and why do they like you?”
I wasn’t sure if that was a complaint or a compliment. It was a question I’d asked myself. When I walk in, I can tell if there’s people I know around. I look for them to confirm what I feel. I’m almost never wrong.
But, to the other side of her question, I’m not that sure they like me. People usually act like they do, but that’s not always true. And sometimes people act like they don’t like me when I can tell they actually do.
Moreso, I can sense when someone needs me or has something for me. It’s like a signal flare shot into the night sky, I feel their call burning above the place they are — a beacon that draws me in to discover.
I’m usually conscious that I’m responding to a beacon, but sometimes I only recognize what happened afterwards. I think I’m not supposed to know until it’s over, because knowing can change the outcome.
Like a signal flare, you can know that it came from a certain place without knowing who shot it, you have to get in closer and ask the right questions to the right people.
I can answer my exes’ question now, after considering it for a very long time. I am not naturally personable. It’s a practice I’ve had to work long and hard to develop.
But with lots of practice, everywhere I go I know people, and they (mostly, kind of, maybe) like me because:
- I talk to people without reservation even if I don’t know them (as the saying goes, a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet).
- I’m as kind as I can manage to be.
- I try to remember to ask them questions they’re eager to answer that make them feel good about themselves.
Each of these can be extremely difficult. I fail as often as I succeed.
As I continue practicing meeting new people, I try to feel their energy, understand what appeals to them, feed energy back, make ’em laugh, and walk away. We can do more later, but maybe not just now.
Like George Costanza, leave on a high note.
I’m Not Sure If I Should Go
Chris and I were sitting on his couch eating Grandma’s enchiladas. She used to make them for us every Thanksgiving and Christmas. When she passed, I took over. Now I make trays of enchiladas for my family every Christmas Eve.
I like to serve people, to make them feel good, to bring happiness into their lives. We all have enough hurt, enough troubles, we all need relief. I try my best to be a source of relief. I hope I do a good job at it.
Sometimes I fail. Frequently I fail. We all do.
Chris hadn’t been feeling well, so I took some enchiladas over so he’d have a nice reminder of easier times when we and our problems were smaller. We talked about something I’d been struggling with the last few months.
I had been intensely meditating on this same series of questions about myself and my choices, asking for guidance, affirmation, or redirection.
Am I doing the right things?
Is this the right way?
Are these good choices?
“I’m not sure I should go,” I told Chris, “maybe it’s a mistake after what had happened. Maybe I’m making a bad situation worse. Maybe I should stay away and leave well enough alone.”
“Maybe you should quit being a coward,” he said with a laugh.
I kept asking these questions and I kept getting the answer back that
Yes, I should go.
These are the right turns for this maze to lead through the branches I want to traverse to get to the outcome I want to have.
But how can I know I’m not just telling myself what I want to hear? It would help if the universe were kind enough to speak to me directly.
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
When the Voice Speaks, Listen and Obey
This is my way. Plan, commit, act, produce, deliver. Chris agreed that the approach I described was probably the best course of action.
I dressed above what would be expected without being overdressed. I had a haircut earlier in the day. I chose not to shave. Rolled my sleeves up my forearms in the way I know women love.
A woman pulled off my shirt recently and gasped. “Why do you hide all of this?” she exclaimed, running her hands through my voluminous chest hair. “It’s wonderful! You should show it off!”
“I’m supposed to wear shirts in public,” I said. “There’s not many options.”
“You can leave your shirt unbuttoned so that people can see… all of this!” she said. Her delight was abundant. It’s nice to be admired.
When the voice speaks, listen and obey.
I left my shirt unbuttoned from my solar plexus up — my third chakra, the center of my power — so my charms were evident to those who can see.
Once I arrived, I stood for the service of a friend who always looks fantastic but was looking especially fantastic for the occasion.
I don’t order, she knows what I want.
As soon as I got to the front and gave her a nod, I felt a tug at my coat. I turned and a beautiful young woman looked me up and down with a smile.
“What did this all cost you?” she asked me. I thought for a moment. There is much meaning in that question and plenty of ways to answer.
“Why do you ask?” I replied.
“It’s such a nice coat and you just have it tied around your waist,” she said.
Oh.
I was walking down the street not too long ago wearing that coat. I passed a man who said “Damn!” and turned.
I stopped. “Yes?” I asked him.
“I love your coat!” he said, “I wish I had one for myself.”
“Thank you,” I said, “I like it too,” and kept walking.
“There’s no coat check and it’s too cold not to wear a coat, it’s either this or keep it on all night and be too hot. And if I did that,” I continued, “you wouldn’t have the pleasure of this,” I said, gesturing to my open shirt and giving her a wry smile.
She gave me a big smile back. “That’s true,” she replied, “but you didn’t answer my question.”
We Give Many Gifts to Many People
“My dad gave it to me, it was his before it was mine. I don’t know what it cost him,” I told her. This is true in so many ways.
She smiled. “My aunt gave me this dress,” she said, running her hands down her sides and giving a small curtsy. It was shimmering velvet, alternating sea green and violet in the light.
“You’re teasing me.”
“No! It’s true!”
“Well it looks fantastic on you,” I said.
“Thanks, it’s the first time I’ve worn it. I wanted to save it for tonight.”
I turned to see my friend holding her hand out, wiggling her fingers at me, waiting to be paid, annoyed I wasn’t clearing her line. I gave her my card and said “You look amazing tonight.” That was an understatement but as far as I thought I should go, all things considered.
She gave me a wan smile, preoccupied and busy, annoyed that I’d made her wait on an evening when there was no time for delay. “Thanks!” She was not feeling thankful toward me. I’d leaned on her kindness too much.
I took my drink and left the girl in the nice dress and her friend to take their turn. I ran into her again in front of the band. We talked more and I asked her name. It was the same as my friend we took service from. A minor coincidence and not the first portent of an odd evening.
Probably an evening I’ll be thinking about for a while to come. That’s why I’m telling you about it now, so you can think about it too. Maybe you have more and better answers than I do.
You Have an Aura
Later I was waiting in another service line to say hi to a different friend. The man beside me turns to me and smiles and says “You have an aura.”
“I center my energy and project it out into the universe,” I replied, moving my hands to demonstrate, like tai chi. “Then the universe gives me back what I want.” I’m not entirely sure why I said that to him. It just felt right.
“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, “That’s awesome!” He laughed. “Swagger!” he said, then turned and walked off.
As I turned away, two young men came up to me. One of them said “You have power around you.” The other nodded emphatically. They hadn’t heard the prior man, but again this strange line of discussion was repeating. What was happening here? Is this my answer?
I don’t believe in coincidences without meaning, I believe in patterns, in things happening in this way, at this time, for a reason.
Are You a Tim, or Are You the Tim?
I went back to the circle bar and met two nice looking women. They’d left their shift at the place next door where my friend is the assistant GM. “Oh, so you know her?” I asked.
“Yes!” they replied, “You know her too?” We talked for a moment about how wonderful our friend is and how much we enjoy her. She is a lovely person, and I appreciate her.
They pointed to the girl working the door. “What about her, do you know her?” they asked me. “She’s friends with our friend, too!”
“I actually don’t, but if you think I should, then I will,” I said, and excused myself.
I walked over to the girl at the door and pointed to her friends. “They said I should know you,” I told her. She smiled and gave me her name.
I smiled back and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Tim.”
Her eyes grew curious and she smiled again, tilting her head. “Are you a Tim, or are you the Tim?” she asked me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked her. “Do they talk about me?”
She blushed and turned her head briefly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Well now I’m curious,” I replied, “What do people say when I’m not here?”
That is a question, isn’t it? What do people say about us when we’re not around? And the answer tells us who others think we are, doesn’t it?
“I don’t know,” she said, cashing out someone coming in the door, then looking back at me again and smiling, “I just started here.”
“If there are stories I’d like to hear them,” I said.
“Then that must mean you are, in fact, the Tim,” she said, laughing.
“I suppose I am,” I replied, “I just hope that’s a good thing.”
She laughed again. She wasn’t going to say more, but she’d said enough.
Catch and Release to Test the Line
I probably engaged with a dozen women throughout the night, nice short casual conversations to give them good feelings. I build rapport, get them enjoying me, wish them well and walk away.
“Catch and release” is what Chris called it. It’s true. I like to practice, make sure I have what it takes to move people. Exercise my power so I know how to use it when I need to. “Be a fisher of people.”
Unless I feel the pull of their energy on my line the moment I meet someone, I don’t reel them in because I know they aren’t the right person, and I’m too old to spend time focused on the wrong person.
Everyone I’ve had a long relationship with I knew the moment I saw them that we would work together. I feel the energy of their soul connecting with mine, snapping into place, fitting together. Puzzle pieces being laid, and in their connection forming a larger picture.
The women I’ve spent portions of my life with have been mirror images of me, myself through the looking glass, the yin to my yang, the other half of one of those two-part heart necklaces. They are the forms I would take if I had their lives to live.
I felt their soul telling me we’re a match the moment we drew near.
I check in with strangers to make sure I know how to get engagement, drive interest, align their energy, and motivate them. I get to the point that I can tell whether I could reel them in or not, then I release the line and walk away. When the energy is wrong, that meal is for another heart.
I rarely feel the pull from another’s soul, so I rarely pursue. I’m unwavering in my quest to find the person who pulls me and won’t stop pulling.
Set It and Forget It
Sometimes I’ll have a vision or receive a message then forget it until later, when it’s relevant. Two and a half years ago, I saw a woman across the room. A voice in my head said, “She is going to be important to you.”
This voice comes to me at times and tells me things I need to know. We met each other a long time ago, and I deeply appreciate its guidance.
When the voice speaks, if I listen and obey, I get what I want.
However, the most important things that I want take the most courage, the most confidence, and I am most likely to fail to obey in those critical moments when I doubt myself, when I’m afraid or weak, when I don’t have enough belief in myself to do as the voice says. I fizzle and break the flow.
I’ve learned many times that I must listen and obey, and yet I still find myself cowering from what I know I have to do to get what I want.
I thought to myself then, “I’ve never seen this woman before, and probably won’t come back here. I’m not sure that’s true.” But the voice is never wrong.
I did return. Someone sent up a beacon that called to me, so I came to investigate. Who sent the message? What did they want from me?
Once I got close, I started feeling that flow, and I remembered. “Ah,” I thought at the time, “so it was true.” Many things are true that we’re not ready to understand. And many things will be true later that aren’t true yet.
That’s Just How it is Sometimes
I kept seeing this beautiful woman in a flapper dress across the crowd, and she kept looking at me. After a few exchanged looks I went over and complimented her dress. She replied enthusiastically, glad I recognized the style. I introduced myself, and she shared her name too.
“How old are you?” she asked me. She was very aware of what was happening. I like that about people — people who understand what’s happening, then speak to it directly.
It’s as attractive as it is rare. It requires courage and confidence.
“It’s my beard, isn’t it?” I said with a smile. My chin is a bright gray now, where it used to be a light reddish brown. I hadn’t shaved, so it was evident.
“That’s part of it,” she replied, smiling. I told her my age. She told me hers.
“You’re out of my range,” I said, “Sorry. I hope you find who you’re looking for.” I really was sorry, she was lovely.
Maybe I should be more flexible. Maybe I should have asked her opinion before giving mine. If things were different… If I were different.
She pursed her mouth in a regretful smile. “That’s just how it is sometimes,” she replied. We smiled at each other again and I patted her on the shoulder and wished her a happy new year.
I think I may see her again when things are different. When I am different.
I Had Many Chances but Rarely Follow Through
After the ball drop, I took another drink to watch the crowd flow away. Two women I’d spoken to earlier came up to me to talk more.
“Did you get your New Years’ Eve kiss?” they asked. This is an interesting way for someone to restart a discussion.
It was also a question that had been on my mind all night. Whether to actually follow through and take something for myself that night. Of the dozen or so women I’d spoken to, easily half of them would have if I’d bothered.
I was tempted with the woman in velvet that distracted me in the service line. She ended up with a large redheaded man. She looked like she was having fun. I was happy for her. I think I would have with the woman in the flapper dress, if things were different. But that’s just how it is sometimes.
I avoid short-term relationships. I’m interested in someone to partner with permanently — if possible, and it works out for us — or at least with the intention of a life-long relationship. Unless I feel that pull of energy when we first meet, I don’t follow through, I don’t even try to reel them in.
I told them as much. “I had many chances tonight,” I said to these two lovely young women, “but I rarely follow through,” and smiled, to show them this wasn’t a sad thing, just a part of who I am. “Did you?”
They both laughed. “We did!” they said in unison, “It was great!”
That may be the case, I thought to myself, but it’s 30 minutes later and you’re by yourselves, back talking to me again.
Where did that person go?
This is a question my dreams have tortured me with for half of my life.
Giving Energy to the Right Person
I don’t want to build and feed that energy unless I’m confident we’re going to keep building and feeding each other for a long time.
What’s the point of making the effort otherwise? Why spend time and life energy with someone knowing that I’ll have to move on later, when I could instead work to find a person I never expect to have to move on from?
All that does is hurt people, and we’ve all been hurt enough already.
I know I could engage people for a while then leave, and I have before. I know it doesn’t have to last forever. But then the person feels deprived of what they want. The amount of pain in the universe grows each time.
There’s enough pain in the universe already.
Someone said recently that “all cleaning does is make a mess of something else,” which seems like an interesting truth. But it moves that mess away from where it’s not wanted and to the place the mess is accepted.
If the way I can reduce the amount of pain in the universe is to consume some of it myself, then I am happy to do so. I’ve eaten a lot of pain in life.
I don’t like to give people bad feelings.
My purpose is to make people feel better about themselves, and sometimes the best way to do that is to deny them what they want right now, producing a small disappointment now that avoids a big disappointment later.
I want to find a person who fits my energy, who is ready to give it and receive it. And I have to be prepared to give and receive the right energy.
Sometimes even when those things are true, the timing is wrong. Or we go about it the wrong way. We all make mistakes.
“I have to stop making the same mistakes over and over again,” I said to a friend recently.
“You’re only human,” she replied, “you’ll keep making the same mistakes you always do. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
That’s just how it is sometimes.
I’m Not Available for That
Some months ago, when the show was over, we stood there looking at each other. Time passed. We kept looking.
She played with her hair. I gave her a longing sigh. Her look grew curious. She tilted her head. It was a look she’d given me many times when I was telling her things she found interesting.
My God she’s beautiful when she does that. She is beautiful always, but that curious look is electrifying. She uses it to pull words from me.
Words I probably shouldn’t say.
I knew she could feel what I was feeling, but that doesn’t mean I should say it. The flow between us was strong. We’d spent much of the night close, trading energy. We’d had a number of nights like that, by this point.
“I want to take you out,” slid from my mouth. It wasn’t what I intended to say.
Her reply was immediate, intense, almost angry. “I told you, I’m not available for that.” The voice had spoken, I failed to listen and obey.
“I’ll be good to you,” I said, tilting my head and smiling. I knew many hadn’t been. I was struggling to recover. I was going in the wrong direction.
Her face grew stern. I looked away to take the pressure off.
“It’s not that,” she said, frustrated, then stepped forward, putting her face into mine, and said more to explain herself. Nothing you need to know.
I made a mistake. My timing was wrong. I wasn’t feeding her properly. I hadn’t prepared the table before trying to share the meal.
Accept What Happens and Learn From It
“I understand,” I replied when she was finished. She stepped away and turned her back to me.
I want her to feel good, not upset. I waited a few minutes for her to cool off. For her to release the tension that I’d just unintenionally sent into her.
I waited until I could feel her energy shift again. The tightness in her back released, her shoulders slumped slightly. Her frustration with me flowed out and away. She was regretting how she’d responded.
I called her name gently. She turned to me again with a softer look.
I gave her a big smile. “I hope you have a great week,” I told her, then pushed back as if to leave. I wanted her to know I wasn’t upset, and didn’t want her to be upset. It’s fine. I choose my questions, she chooses her answers. I won’t begrude her choices. This is how life works.
She came up close, put her hands on the counter next to mine, leaned in, brought her face in just inches away from mine.
I love when she does that. My God. It’s so intense.
I settled forward again, feeling overwhelming joy in her closeness.
She puts off so much energy, so much power. Far more than I do. It’s like stepping from air conditioning into the pounding sun on a sweltering day, the radiation pressure instantly prickling your skin, the power of the sun itself pushing against you. Ninety million miles away yet powerful enough to destroy you without even trying.
When she comes close it’s an electric field. I feel her intensity pulsing through me, flowing between our chakras like strong magnets held apart.
That’s one reason I asked her out, so that we’d spend more time close to each other, so I could bask in her intensity. And that was the problem.
I’m sure she understands how men react to her, but I’m not certain she entirely realizes why.
It’s because she is an incredibly powerful woman. I respond strongly to that.
It’s not just me, she pumps energy into most people she interacts with. She is radiant. On a good day, when she’s happy, it’s like pure light pouring from her smile and the glimmer in her eyes.
She has an aura. She exudes power.
And she’s so giving that I see people drink energy from her without returning it back, sapping her like vampires, leaving her drained.
If she kept it to herself instead of giving it away, she could dominate anyone. And if those who she gives power to would give it back as strongly as she gives it away, she would get anything that she wants.
But she radiates that power and people take it from her. I’m not entirely sure she understands what is happening or how to control it.
I realized that I’d been doing the same. I was taking more than I returned. I was feeding my happiness at her expense. I wasn’t feeding her back.
And I’d been doing it for a while.
No wonder she was refusing to give me more. She deserves better.
It’s a Short Walk, I’ll Be Fine, I Do It All the Time
“Are you ok?” she asked, her face inches from mine, her energy flooding my senses.
“I’m ok,” I replied.
This remarkable character — this compassion, depth of kindness, gentle concern for others — is another reason I was so keen.
I was reminded of some of the early lines of The Egg by Andy Wier.
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
“Will you get home ok?” she asked. It was her way of showing me that just because she refused my request didn’t mean she didn’t care for me.
“It’s a short walk, I’ll be fine, I do it all the time.” I thought to myself, you’re welcome to walk me there to be sure, if you’d like. I’ll even hold your hand so we don’t get lost. I held my tongue. I had said too many things already.
“Are you sure?” she asked me again. She was upset I’d pushed her, but hurt by her response to me. I could feel her uncertainty, her confusion, a soft regret. Why do we do the things we do?
“Its ok. I’m ok. Are you ok?” I smiled at her again.
She smiled back at me with a tinge of sadness. “I’m ok,” she said, nodding.
“See you later, ok?”
She smiled again, braver this time. “See you later.” I turned and left.
That was a while ago.
Give More Than You Take
Only once since then has she opened herself to me so we could trade energy like we had been doing before. I apologized to her then, told her I was sorry I’d broken her trust, that I’d like to rebuild it, if I can.
She agreed, but said she doesn’t trust easy, and it’s hard to rebuild once it’s broken. She was radiant towards me that night, but hasn’t opened up since.
It will be a long road back, if there is one. And I know that’s my fault. I regret that I broke our system, what we were doing was thrilling, but I was taking more than I was giving, my timing was poor, and I pushed too hard.
I was out of practice, and I got too excited about what was happening. I misjudged and acted improperly. I should have maintained that flow and let build. I should have recognized sooner that I wasn’t feeding her, I was feeding off her. I should given more than I took.
Why is it so easy for me to give to people I don’t have an interest in, yet so easy to take from people that are meaningful to me? Why are we often cruelest to those who mean the most? This is a mistake I wish I’d learned how to avoid a very long time ago. I’ve made it before.
That night, I should have done what I’d intended to do while we stood there looking at each other — told her how much I enjoyed seeing her and said goodbye, leaving her feeling good, ending the evening on a high note.
Fed her energy, left her happy with me and looking forward to seeing me again. But instead, I pushed her to feed my ego even more than she already was, created a negative reaction, and now she feels bad when she sees me.
These are things that happen when we practice catching and stop there. Reeling someone in takes just as much practice, if not more.
Things to learn, and to learn from.
I knew this already, but I had forgotten. I was out of practice.
Stop, You’re Not Done Yet
Back now to New Years’s, it was time, the night was nearly over, I left.
I started walking home — it’s a short walk, I’ll be fine, I do it all the time — when the voice spoke to me again.
“Stop,” it said, “you’re not done yet. Pay attention.”
When the voice speaks, listen and obey.
I was in front of another bar I used to frequent with a woman I dated a long time ago who I loved utterly. I made mistakes I will spend the rest of my life trying not to repeat. She is the reason I’ve learned many of the things I’m telling you now. Where did that other person go? She only exists in dreams.
I felt a beacon calling from inside this old familiar place. I went in to see whose it was. Stopped at the bar and bought a drink. Talked to one of the bartenders about what a strange night it had been. She was kind and pretty. She laughed at my story. “The night’s not over yet,” she said.
One of her coworkers called her for help. I turned and went outside to the back patio. I’ve seen many strange things happen on that patio.
This Is the Universe Speaking
I talked to a few men sharing a joint. They finished and drifted away. A very drunk woman came up to me and lit a cigarette. “Mind?” she said.
We spoke as she smoked. I told her of my night, she told me of hers.
As she finished her cigarette, she turned to me.
“This is the Universe speaking,” she said, swaying gently, her eyes mostly closed. “You’re doing the right things. You’re very close to what you want. You just have to keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t stop now.”
I narrowed my eyes and looked at her intently.
What a thing to say. What a night to say it.
She was very drunk, her shoulders turning soft circles around her planted feet, her head wobbling at the top of her neck.
“What?” I asked.
“What?” she replied, confused.
“What did you just say to me?” I asked again, gently, curiously.
“My boyfriend is waiting inside, I should go,” she said. She shook her head, reopened her eyes, crushed out her cigarette, and walked away.
It always helps when the universe is kind enough to speak to me directly.
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
When the voice speaks, listen and obey.
Be well. Happy New Year. Live Life to Your Best!
Parts of this story sound absurd but did happen on New Years’ 2025.
Some of it happened before then which I tried to make clear.
Conversations have been edited for privacy, clarity, and brevity.