The Magic Dissipates into Everyday Life — and That’s the Point

Nobody warns you how loud the world becomes when the third eye opens. Suddenly everything carries a meaning. Numbers on a number plate. The time on the clock, always catching you at the same minute. Certain animals appearing in your life at a specific moment, as if they were sent. Messages hidden inside ordinary situations, waiting for you to finally notice them.

And it’s not just seeing. There are different levels of receiving. You start feeling frequencies — in the ears, in the touch, inside the body itself. The organs reflecting the chakras, the chakras reflecting the planets. You find yourself following astrology, and then astronomy too, because the sky stops being decoration and starts being a clock.

Underneath all of it, one understanding keeps repeating: everything and everyone is connected to one source. There is no separation at all. What anyone does affects everyone. Even your own body becomes proof of it — take care of it, and healthier options start coming your way. Fall back into bad habits, and the universe politely provides more situations to match them. In the end, it gets you what you attract.

My proper awakening was at the beginning of 2020. This is my sixth year of the process — or seventh; I stopped calculating, which is probably part of the healing.

And somewhere along those years comes the fork in the road. Because once you’re able to receive more than most people around you, you have two options: accept it, or mask it — bury the feelings and the gifts under the materialistic world and pretend the volume was never turned up. I used to have a name for the people still asleep. I called them NPCs. Then I remembered I was one of them not so long ago, sleepwalking with the best of them — so these days I try to hold that thought with more compassion. Most days I manage.

The religions, all of them, tried to explain this fork with angels and demons. Different names, different books — the same two sides of the same coin. What none of them told me is that the work isn’t choosing a side. As I went along, I learned to befriend my demon and confront my angel. Being bad is wrong, obviously — but being too good is sometimes worse. The balance is the practice.

And then, quietly, the thing nobody prepares you for: the magic dissipates.

The number plates go quiet. The synchronicities space themselves out. The frequencies soften. And for a while you panic, because you think you’ve lost it — that the universe stopped talking to you, that you’ve been demoted back to ordinary life with its court dates and businesses and petty details that still trigger you.

But you haven’t lost anything. The magic didn’t leave. It moved in. It stopped performing for you because it no longer needs to convince you. The fireworks were only ever the invitation — everyday life is the temple. So if you’re at the beginning of this, in the loud season where everything glows and speaks: enjoy this period. Soon it will be over, and the magic will dissipate into everyday life.

That was never the loss. That was always the point.