The Magical Urge To Disappear

For My Next Trick

I used to often fantasize about moving to some remote forest, far away from civilization and from anyone who ever knew me, to live completely alone with only the company of the creatures in the wild. But this has always only been a fantasy because, for one, despite what I'd like to think, I'm not built for a life without the convenience of modern inventions like plumbing, showers, refrigerators, and the internet; and for two, regardless of how often humans disappoint me, I know that ultimately, my destiny on this planet is to serve humanity.

I wouldn't call myself anti-social, but I am certainly anti-society, and I quickly tire from interacting with people entranced by society's desires and ideas. This is why I keep to myself the vast majority of the time.

When I moved to Pittsburgh, I knew that I was not coming here to have fun—to settle down, to grow roots, or to really build a life here at all. Outside of my basketball buddies, I haven't made any friends in Pittsburgh because I haven't tried to. I haven't been on any dates. I haven't really had a social life at all, because that was not my purpose in coming here.

I knew that Pittsburgh was only meant to be a temporary setting for my continued evolution, and it has been that—but what I didn't know was just how difficult this process of evolution would be. The last year and a half has easily been the most interesting, fulfilling, healing, magical, and simultaneously most difficult period of my life. Far more difficult than the years leading up to and following my mother's passing. Far more difficult than the years I spent in the pits of depression.

From day one of being in Pittsburgh, I've been dealing with what I've come to understand as ascension sickness. Ascension sickness is the idea that when we're undergoing deep energetic work and evolution, it often brings with it symptoms that manifest physically, as well as mentally and emotionally. The idea is that as our vibration rises, our vessel has to be reconstituted in order to hold that vibration. For me, this process often caused me to be so physically exhausted that all I could do was lay in bed all day for days at a time—to the extent that I often contemplated going to the emergency room because I couldn't understand what was happening to me.

I so badly wanted to talk to somebody—anybody—about what I was going through but didn’t, because I knew they wouldn’t understand. I knew they’d try to explain it through logic and tell me to see a doctor or a therapist. And I knew full well that what was happening to me wasn’t something that traditional medicine could understand or address.

Oftentimes it looked like receiving so much incessant energy in my crown chakra that I couldn’t see straight, let alone focus on anything. Or receiving so much energy with such intensity in my sacral chakra that I doubled over or thought I was going to throw up. Or experiencing full-body chills for 12 hours straight—and yet knowing it wasn’t coming from a flu or some other virus because I otherwise felt fine. It often felt like anxiety that I was certain wasn’t mine, because I had nothing in my reality to feel anxious over. I can probably count on two hands the number of nights I’ve gotten a full night’s rest over the past 550 days of my life.

It made me so grateful that I am able to work from home, because I honestly don't think I would have been able to maintain a job offsite while dealing with all of this—and, to be honest, this seemed like a destined part of the whole scheme. I have not known exactly why what has been happening to me has been happening, but what I’ve known without a shadow of a doubt is that it was happening for my betterment and that there was nothing I could do to escape it. That being said, I still felt called to do my best to publish these newsletters consistently, as well as work my full-time day job, which meant that I was also working six days a week, every week, for the entirety of 2024.

But I persevered, with the grace of God, and staying committed to these newsletters despite the personal chaos I was experiencing was honestly one of the most fulfilling experiences I’ve ever had. Because, in truth, I’ve been operating at about 75%—max—ever since I moved to Pittsburgh, and I’ve still accomplished so much—which makes me wonder what I’ll be able to accomplish once I’m back at 100%.

Still, I am human, and I am tired. So tired. I’ve been tired for a very long time. I’ve learned to only outpour so long as I have enough in my own cup to pour out for others, and I’ve done my best to only pour from the overflow. But over the past few months, my cup got empty, and it seemed like nothing and no one was pouring back into it. That’s not to say that people didn’t try—because they did. I’m grateful to have people in my life who want to help, but the problem is, I don’t think they could help, because what I’ve been experiencing doesn’t make sense.

I tried doing all the things I typically do to fill my own cup, but it wasn’t working anymore. And a couple of weeks ago, I just felt like I didn’t have any more to give. I was exhausted on all levels, and so I defaulted back to a behavior that I usually employ when life gets overwhelming—I disappeared.

I can honestly kind of understand why my father and so many other men walk out on their children—because there's such a sense of freedom and ease that comes with not just abandoning your responsibilities, but also putting yourself outside the reach of contact. Not saying why and not saying bye, but just effectively disappearing and becoming a ghost whom only a handful of people can verify exists. This ghosting of everyone was a coping mechanism of mine for a long time. Though for me, the goal was always to come back—eventually. Usually after my cup had been refilled or I had some fresh, new perspective or revelation to share. And that was honestly my plan with this most recent ghosting. I was going to take at least six months “off” from everyone and everything to pour only into myself and recoup.

So, I told God this plan of mine to disappear for a while—and she essentially said, lol—get back to work.

And it was so fucking frustrating. I’ve been over here energetically getting my ass whooped for pretty much 18 months straight. I’ve been giving all that I had to try and help others while simultaneously feeling largely unsupported. And now, when I want to take a break that I know I deserve, I feel like I’m being told that I can’t—and it’s not fair. I couldn’t help but feel like I was being punished at times, while deep down being aware that that wasn’t true. That I wasn’t being punished—I was being disciplined. And discipline feels a lot like punishment when we don’t want discipline. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this suffering I’d been enduring for the past year and a half would finally end once I learned what I needed to learn. So, for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been working to get really clear on the lesson I was apparently missing.

That lesson, in short, is that the Divine is in charge. Of my life. Of every life. And the pain I’d been enduring was not because I didn’t have enough money to pay my bills, enough food to eat, or a space to keep me warm—but because my ego was still fighting for control over my life. My ego was still trying to be the author of my destiny and of the destinies of some of those connected to me. The pain I’d been enduring was due to my choosing to fight a battle that there’s no way I could win—a battle against cosmic forces that are infinitely larger and more powerful than my small ego. And if I wanted to be free from this unnecessary suffering, I needed to fully surrender. Like, fully. Not with my fingers crossed behind my back like I’d done so many times before.

And so, I’ve waved my white flag. I’ve completely surrendered. I am not in charge. I have no idea what’s in store for my life. I don’t have any more plans. I am a servant, and my only intention is to serve.

I will go where the Divine calls me to go. I will do what the Divine wants me to do. I will know what the Divine wants me to know when the Divine wants me to know it. I will have only what the Divine wants me to have. And I will like it.

Since surrendering, I’ve been feeling so much better—and that’s why you’re reading these words. I’ve known for a long time that I’m not in control. I’ve known for a long time that the only true way to be happy in a world full of unknowns is by fully embracing the unknown. But what’s changed now is that I’m honestly excited about not knowing what comes next for the first time. I genuinely have no idea who, where, or what I’ll be this time next year (or even this time next week, lol), but I have faith that it will be aligned with my purpose—and I’m excited to see how things unfold.

Sinclairvoyant 🙇🏾‍♂️

A large part of the discipline I’ve been undergoing over the past 18 months has been related to acknowledging, embracing, and working to develop my psychic gifts. I’ve always been really intuitive, but I haven’t always trusted my intuition—and I certainly would have never imagined that I’d someday call myself a psychic. But so much has happened over the past year and a half to validate my perception of psychic activity that I’ve had no other choice but to embrace it.

Part of the issue is that most people associate being psychic with being able to tell the future. But in my experience, being psychic has a lot less to do with seeing the future and a lot more to do with being able to clearly perceive the present—beneath and beyond what appears on the surface. Being psychic is not just the ability to see through illusions but also the commitment to not fostering or creating illusions.

I honestly feel that we’re all psychic, but this sixth sense only reveals itself to us once we’ve released our worship of logic as the ultimate truth of reality. What being psychic means to me is that I can read energy. I can sense truths about people that they may not even know themselves. I can sense how people are deeply feeling, regardless of how misaligned it may be with how they appear. I can see beyond the surface in almost any situation. And I can deeply sense when I’m being lied to—to the extent that it’s really hard for me to truly be friends with people who aren’t radically honest. Because if my intuition is telling me one thing, and you’re telling me something else, I’m always going to trust my intuition—even if that means we can no longer be friends.

Back in my senior year of high school, I got really into magic tricks—specifically card tricks. I’ve been playing cards for as long as I can remember, and being able to amaze someone by doing something they didn’t expect or couldn’t explain always brought a rush that I really, really enjoyed. Then I got to college, and magic tricks were no longer cool, so I stopped doing my card tricks and pretty much stopped touching cards at all unless I was gambling or playing spades.

This changed a couple of years ago when, on a whim, I felt called to buy a pack of playing cards. I kept these cards at my desk and would often pick them up and shuffle them during the workday to keep my hands busy if I was in a meeting or something like that. For some strange reason, I began to pull three cards out of the deck, lay them out in a spread, and try to interpret what they meant—though they clearly meant nothing, lol. But it was like something in me was saying that maybe these cards had a deeper meaning than what appeared on the surface. It was truly like they were trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t understand why or what they were trying to say. I kept pulling them nonetheless.

About a year later, I was guided to buy a pack of tarot cards. I’d only seen tarot cards once at that point in my life. An ex-girlfriend of mine had bought a pack years ago and was trying to work with them. I was already very spiritual and open-minded at that time, so while I didn’t personally understand them or why anyone would want to use them, I supported her exploration of them as a tool for better understanding herself and kind of dismissed them beyond that. But now, for some reason, I’d been guided to buy my own. I’d been guided to work with them and try to understand them. And so, for the past year and a half, I’ve been working with tarot cards quite consistently, and they’ve been an integral part of my own growth and understanding of what’s been happening to me during this period of extensive evolution.

This post is already getting quite long, so I won’t go into it here, but essentially, tarot cards are a tool for helping to understand your own intuition. That’s it. There’s really nothing devilish or demonic about them. On the contrary, they’re a useful tool to assist in communicating with the Divine, our own intuition, and for gaining deeper insights to what's going on in our lives beneath the surface.

I would love the opportunity to practice reading energies outside of my own and if you're interested, reach out and I'll do a read for you—free of charge! You can include a question or just a general read of your energy. If you're interested shoot me an email at ms@michealsinclair.com

It feels good to be back but I'm not guaranteeing that newsletters will be weekly anymore—only because I really want to start creating via other mediums and so I need more bandwidth for those manifestations to grow. Instead, I'm only going to write newsletters when I really feel called to or have something meaningful to share—but I will continue to write daily on Threads, so connect with me over there if you want to stay in the loop.

What I can say for sure is that I not going anywhere. Regardless of how badly I want to disappear sometimes, I will continue to show up for you and for me because I love us both. I know that my purpose is to serve through love and I intend to live in my purpose until the day that I die. I truly live a magical life and I'm committed to sharing as much of my magic with you as possible so that you will hopefully acknowledge and embrace your own magic too.

I love you.

Micheal Sinclair 💜