When I was young, I found joy through my imagination. I would pretend to live in other worlds where I walked as a wild animal trying to feel what it would be like to have their strength or cunning or ingenuity. I would create magical worlds from my collections of miniatures – I had 86 Smurfs, each with its own name, or futuristic cities with my many Micronauts.

I read books on Greek mythology, picturing myself slaying the gorgon Medusa or the Minotaur, and turned to superhero comics and games like Dungeons & Dragons to fuel my need for adventure and fantastic lands.

It’s probably why some of my favorite books have always been fantasies where wizards led unexpected heroes on one adventure after another.

As I reached adulthood, I found myself turning away from those tried–and-true dream generators because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. As an adult, you’re supposed to read newspapers and respected magazines, become a well-rounded individual aware of the “real” world.

I became embarrassed about the interest I still had in the fantastic, which had transformed into a passion for the metaphysical. I’ll admit that some of this still exists in me today, this fear of what others will think when they learn that I believe in things like spirit guides and animal totems, energy within us and around us, and our ability to affect the world in powerful, positive ways simply by being true to who we are.

But here’s the thing – this is where I find my joy. When I talk about feng shui and space clearing with someone, my energy shifts upward. When I have the opportunity to offer Reiki or guide people on journeys that give them insight and inspiration, I know deep down I’m making a difference. When I learn from people about their own spiritual journeys and the tools they use to help themselves or others, it lights up my soul.

And yet, that doubt within still exists, but I’ve found a way to deal with that irritating voice that tells me what others will think of me. I do something that brings me joy every day. That could be pulling an Oracle Card, watching a D&D show (Critical Role, Dimension 20 and Not Another D&D Podcast are phenomenal), creating an altar for a friend, walking in nature and imagining the seen and unseen creatures all around me or simply speaking with the garden.

The point is, I do at least one thing that lifts me each day. No matter what others may think of my “woo, woo” self, they can’t take away the joy I get by simply being me.