I’ve Always Felt It: On Spirituality, Guides, and the Quiet Magic of Being Seen

For as long as I can remember, the world has never felt entirely… ordinary to me.

Even as a child, there was always something just beneath the surface. My first memory of being spooky was when I was about 11, and I had a dream about my grandma, and she kept telling me of the number 36... When I woke up, I told my mum and dad about it. I forgot about it, until the lottery came on the tv (it was back when the National Lottery was actual prime time Saturday night TV). It turned out that 36 was the bonus ball number. Its a shame Grandma didn't tell me the rest of the numbers.

I was also only 14 when I saw my first "ghosts". It was just an imprint, a memory, and it scared me, but the memory makes me laugh as when I went back to my parents they said "you look like you've seen a ghost" and I replied "I have"

Since then, I have always felt watched over, but not in a way that was frightening. In a way that felt steady. Protective. Like I was never truly alone, even in the quietest moments. As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand that feeling as guidance, something beyond myself, but deeply connected to me and something I rely on constantly. Whether you call them guides, energy, intuition, or something else entirely, I’ve always believed there are forces that gently nudge us, support us, and sometimes quietly redirect us when we need it most.

What started as a vague childhood awareness has grown into something more intentional. I've had tarot readings, and bought countless decks, but my guides are the anchor I need. I'll briefly mention them, but they are entirely personal to me, so forgive me for not going into all the details.

1. My first guide - My Nan - Not the grandma I talk about earlier, but my dad's mum. In life, she was my Grandma, but since then, it has felt right to call her Nan. I'm not entirely sure why. I'm actually closer to her now she's in spirit than I ever was in life, but somehow, I prefer it. It's a special understanding, and I believe it was meant to be.

2. My meditation guide - Soh - He's a Thai Monk that's been with me since my first Spiritual Retreat down in Crickhowell (More on that later). It makes me laugh, and I can picture his unimpressed face, when I picture him as Jason Mendoza from The Good Place (just bald). He's also the guide I go to when I'm struggling to sleep, which is often. He helps me rest a little, even when sleep evades me.

3. Now the 3rd one, I'm not sure she's a guide, but she's definitely a friend. Sarah Crooks. A lot of people will know who I mean from my personal life. She tragically died far too young, and one regret (that I'm not allowed to) is that we drifted in the years before her death. An anecdote of Sarah is the hilarious moment in one of my recent Tarot Readings. The medium, who is wonderful, was incredibly confused when Sarah came through holding a hamster, and saying "this is Sarah"... Sarah was a hamster that I adopted many years ago, who was Sarah the Syrian in a tiny container in the store, and it stuck. So Sarah was genuinely introducing the tarot reader to her name-sake. She was a special hamster, and matched the special human that Sarah was. She was a Familiar of mine, there's no doubt about it.

And speaking of Familiars... This is where it gets a little more personal.

I’ve always felt drawn to the idea that animals are more than just companions. That some connections go deeper than coincidence. That certain bonds feel… chosen. Intentional. As though they exist on a level beyond the physical.

The concept of familiars, of a creature that is tied to your soul, that reflects something within you, that stands beside you rather than simply with you, has always resonated deeply with me. Not necessarily in a literal sense, but in an emotional and spiritual one.

It’s the idea that we are not singular beings. That parts of us exist outside of ourselves. That connection is not limited to what we can see.

My beliefs have shaped so much of who I am and what inspires me and, naturally, it has found its way into my writing *ahem... His Dark Materials...ahem *.

Because when I sit down to write, I don’t feel like I’m creating something from nothing. I feel like I’m exploring something that already exists, I'm just pulling on threads rather than inventing them.

The worlds I build, the bonds I write about, the energy that moves through my stories… it all comes from that same place. That same quiet knowing that has been with me since I was a child.

I don’t expect everyone to believe what I believe. But I do think many people have felt something similar, even if they’ve never named it. A moment of intuition they couldn’t explain. A pull toward something they didn’t understand. A sense that there is more to this world than what we can easily define. For me, that “more” has always been there.

Soft. Persistent. Unseen.

And maybe that’s the point. Not to prove it and not to define it perfectly.

Just to acknowledge it—and let it shape you in whatever quiet way it chooses.