I don’t know if anybody else experiences this—yet as someone who surfs multiple timelines on the regular, I sometimes experience more than one timeline weaving over the top of itself in my physical life. They twist and turn in and out of one another in real time, and it’s a pain in the 3-D keester.

I don’t talk about this much because it makes me sound like I’m having some schizo-effective breakdown (I’m not–I don’t think, lol), however, as the ethers have thinned, this issue has gotten more obnoxious in my life. It started in 2017, to a noticeable level. I’ve even head others talk about these timeline jumps in their own life. Some call it “The Mandela Effect”.

For instance, since 2017, I’ve had very vivid recollections of detailed occurrences that as it turns out—I’m the only one recalling.

Like a full-on conversation I’ve had with, say, my wife, in the kitchen, about something that included a lot of details. I’ll recall my daughter milling about in the kitchen as my wife and I sussed out details, batting ideas back and forth as we do, because she’s stubborn Scot earth sign and I’m a stubborn Italian water sign. I’ll recall my kid saying something about an event she’s attending, I’ll recall what I’m doing in the kitchen while I watch my wife, say, cook, and I’ll recall the outcome of this conversation with my wife, regarding whatever it was we were batting around. I can even recall that the event probably took around 20 minutes, because she was cooking and now the food was ready.

This isn’t a random “vision”. This is a visceral reality that I’m part of, and so is everybody else. I’m even chewing in this recollection, and swallowing, and doing things like searching for a clean water glass. The kid is ignoring our conversation and bobbing her head listening to something in her ear buds while she’s looking at her phone.

It’s real-life stuff.

Fast-forward to two weeks ahead. The issue my wife and I were batting about comes up. She asks about it as if we’ve never discussed it. I’m way confused. I remind her we have discussed it. She insists we didn’t. I remind her of the 20-minute blow-by-blow conversation we had about it. She looks at me like I’m crazy, tells me I must have had that conversation with someone else, and keeps insisting we didn’t have the conversation. I insist it was her, cite the dinner she was making, and say, hold on sister, Nora was there – so I run down Nora and recount the story to her, and she has no idea what I’m talking about either.  

I say to Nora, “Yes, you do, we asked you about A and B, while you were getting ready to go with your friends to Subway, because you were waiting on so and so to pick up such and such, so you guys could go celebrate Friend A passing their math class. Remember? It was that day, about two weeks ago.”

Nora will stare weirdly at me and say, “How did you know so and so passed their math class?”

I’ll say, “Because you told me you guys were celebrating.”

Nora’s a little used to this weird stuff happening, but it still weirds her out once in awhile, and she’ll look at me and say: “So and so JUST passed their math class YESTERDAY. Today in the hall we were talking about meeting up at Subway to celebrate TONIGHT. That didn’t happen two weeks ago. We’re going to Subway TONIGHT to celebrate.”

Then my wife will say–“I told you we didn’t talk about it. You’re in the wrong timeline.”

Welcome to my family dynamics.

Now, unless my wife and my daughter are conspiring to gaslight me into oblivion to drive me crazy, like that awful woman did to Sarah Paulson’s character on American Horror Story—it’s a timeline jump.

Not to mention that Rebecca and I have to RE-discuss the issue all over again. In an effort to save 20 minutes of my life, and hers, I’ve made the mistake of telling her what I’ve said and what she said, and how we got to the conclusion we got to—yet she doesn’t care to hear her opinion in whatever timeline she doesn’t recall. She would rather go from scratch. That’s fair.

For her, were breaking new ground. For me, it’s groundhog day.

Anyway, this has happened increasingly more since 2017, where we went through an ENORMOUS timeline jump with the Trump presidency. I’m not going to detail seven years’ worth of blogging about this exact issue, however I’ll recap enough to say that after the 2017 election, folks all over reported the weirdest “flu symptoms”, which were a bit of a mystery; dizziness, never-ending nausea, weakness, no congestion or runny nose, disorientation in their own life, just feeling foggy and off, for a month or six weeks at a time. The closest cousin to those symptoms, for that duration of time, is what NASA calls “Dimensional Sickness”, and it’s experienced by astronauts who have been up in space for a long time, and their body is out of sync with earth’s geomagnetic time. So their body and brain suffer as they come back to earth, trying to “sync” back up to our timeframe, down here.

It’s an astrophysics issue.

In 2017, folks who voted for Trump recall feeling euphoric and like they could “breathe” for the first time. So perhaps they’d been living in an ether or dimension that was problematic for them, all the time before Trump got elected, and his election, knocking us into whatever ether, or dimension that it was, felt better to them, as it was a “home” dimension for a vibration that was more comfortable to them? (A dimension is simply a vibrational habitat for matter.)

This is all just speculation. I’m not a Physicist, sadly for me.

Sure, all those physcial symptoms coming from folks who didn’t vote for Trump could’ve been anxiety symptoms, but not for six weeks’ worth of nausea and dizziness and disorientation. I mean, c’mon. I wasn’t thrilled GW Bush won, so I pouted for about a week, and moved on, like America used to do.

This 2017 issue was something else.

Since 2017, I’ve had these very visceral timeline jumps occur. Thankfully, while having them, I could recount occurrences that I thought had already happened, that eventually DID happen, so I didn’t seem like a complete looney who was having some “break” with reality.

Most recently, as we came into July, late June, I started experiencing a great deal of them, in quicker succession—one I JUST found out about that I’ll share in a moment.

I’ve started to notice a pattern with these timeline jumps. They happen right after an etheric shift pops us from one nearly-identical multiverse into another adjacent one. Opportunities for a timeline jump, at least for me, are the most “extreme” directly after this etheric shift happens. Then they taper off.

The other pattern I’ve just recently picked up is that these weird loops happen in great frequency right BEFORE a timeline shift—and I’m just putting this together today which is why I’m writing this blog.

Let me back up a little.

In 2020, I predicted that Biden would win the election, and when he did, he would seek only one term, because he was a “bridge” candidate, as he put it. He was going to NOT seek re-election in 2024, and hand running over to Kamala Harris. This was a SOLID timeline. It was a solid as granite. Nothing was moving that puppy. I talked about it, this “prediction” all throughout 2020-2023

Then he announced he was seeking re-election in 2024.

EXCUSE ME?

Cue the record player with needle scratching—that wasn’t right. I’m not saying I can’t be wrong, because obviously I can, but this was SUCH a set timeline to have him hand it off to Harris, that to have him step back into wanting to run for POTUS felt weeeeeird, and…OFF.

Waaaaay, way off.

And I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Most of America was scratching our heads.

What the hell? What would’ve changed? Were we on the brink of a world war and the Dems talked him into staying so we wouldn’t be changing out the Commander in Chief right before some heinous global conflict, that I wasn’t seeing in any timeline?

I mean, whattup, man?

Right after Biden announced, I experienced a series of weird timeline jumps—nothing catastrophic—some pains in the butt with a few work “conversations” that I explicitly recall having with folks, including notes I took, that the person didn’t recall having at ALL, and once they didn’t recall having them, all the notes I took seemed to miraculously disappear from the notebook I wrote them in (tell me that’s not a mindf-ck). They just didn’t exist in this timeline. But they existed in my memory. I gaslit myself and told myself I must’ve written the notes on another surface. Like an envelope. Even though all other notes are in the notebooks.

Thankfully those convos worked out in the end—the people and I came to the exact same conclusions (AGAIN) as we did in the first conversation we had, we worked through the SAME numbers as we did before, in whatever timeline I recalled, that no one else recalls—and I weirdly seemed like I had my sh*t miraculously together, like some planning savant, chomping through all the details at breakneck speed–because I’ve already done it once.

Unbelievable.

However, I did notice not feeling super well through mid-June to July. That same weirdo feeling of being “out of it” with a funky stomach, all the things. I took covid tests and was negative. I have a stomach of steel, so the funky stomach and extreme fatigue was strange, though I’m a chick in menopause years, so all bets are off when it comes to anything physical.

I recalled this feeling familiar. And strange, and uncomfy. The closest equivocation I had to it was right after Trump was elected, but to a lesser degree. I kind of blew that off, though, because that was a rotten time in many ways in my life, and I just didn’t want to draw a parallel.

Speed forward to today, August 9^th, 2024.

Today one of my Rocky Mountain Academy of Energetic Arts instructors reached out to me and needed something for students. I was surprised by the request, because I had vivid memories of emailing these materials to her after I came back from a trip to Vancouver, and before a big weekend event at the end of July. I only had a day and a half between the two, and I had received a text from her while I was in Vancouver that her class was completed, and she needed the materials.

I had vivid memories of creating the materials at the top of July, before I got busy the rest of the month, and having them finished so I could just email them off to her when her class was completed.

I had vivid memories of listening to Kenny Chesney on my phone as I worked on the materials because I had previously been working on something else, and hauled the Kenny channel with me to my next task.

I have vivid memories of the funny email I sent her with the materials, and the relieved sensation I had, having had completed the materials in such advance, with as tight as my schedule was.

This series of memories stretches from about July 2^nd to July 24^th.

So when I got her email wondering where the materials were, I was surprised. I thought surely maybe they got hung up in my email, or maybe I had a typo in her address. I checked my sent folder. Nothing. Weird.

Okay, so maybe I forgot to send them. Maybe I was just GOING to send them, and envisioned doing that, but I got interrupted and it never happened. That’s a thing in my universe. SOOOO—I go into my RMAEA folder on my hard drive to re-send the materials I had made.

They aren’t there.

I check all the folders. The materials I spent several Keny Chesney songs on–don’t exist. I checked other RMAEA folders, in case I was on a really distracted course and put them somewhere else. Nope. Nothing. (It’s important to note here that I’m a big tech-head and I’m INSANELY specific and detailed about my files and my folders.  Have too much going on not to be.)

Now I’m getting a little freaked out, and I have that free-falling panicky feeling you get, like, in a nightmare, so I open up Photoshop and look to see my usage path. The last RMAEA folder access, from photoshop—was in APRIL.

Not July. APRIL.

No email evidence. No files I worked on while listening to Kenny Chesney. No Photoshop file path to RMAEA since April. Nuthin’.

I write my instructor back and apologize, explain the situation, suggest I get a CT scan, and take a minute to think about the whole thing.

There’s menopause brain fog, there’s schizo-effective disorder, there’s being too busy—but this was way, waayyyyy too many details, and emotional responses, in linear calendar order, to just be a brain fart, or a delusion I had after, as Scrooge put it, a “bad piece of cheese”.

I was very clearly stuck in one of these timeline jumps, but this was a BIGGIE. It was EPIC. It erased a month’s worth of work I did. That was new! I mean, maybe this has happened before, and I just didn’t notice it—yet I specifically recalled all of these events, because my schedule was so tight.

What had changed? What the hell had changed in July, that would cause such an enormous ripple? I start Googling, because for July, I was in a blissful world of vacations, loving on friends and family, and reunions.  

And then I find it.

On July 21^st, Joe Biden announced he was dropping out of the election. There was speculation as to whether he would stay stepped-down.

On July 25^th, he held the press conference to make it official.

I sent the materials to my instructor on Wednesday, July 24^th, roughly one hour after I landed from Vancouver back to Billings.

There it was.

The timeline of Joe Biden handing the Presidency opportunity to Kamala Harris—the timeline I had been seeing since 2020, and all through his Presidency—had been restored.

So pretty much, I’d been doing all this work in a temporary timeline that was elbowed out of the way, for the predominant timeline to return to its poll position. Mystery solved. Not CT scan required.

Dear lord.

I study physics all the time. I love it. It helps explain this oddly-woven-together reality we all manifest together. The Marvel Universe broke the mainstream ice on introducing audiences to time-jumping and multiverses. Prior to that, we had Doctor Who.

I recall writing screenplays about timeline jumping and multiverses, and presenting them at Producer meetings, in LA, when my first screenplay was optioned. I was told in 2006 by the guy who once greenlit movies for 20^th Century Fox that no one would understand what I was talking about. “It’s too complex, darling,” he’d say. “You’ll lose your audience. Your characters are brilliant, and your mind is a thing of beauty. Someday the world will catch up with you.” I recall that meeting like it was a foggy yesterday—a meeting that was, as a side note, predicted by my cousin Jeremy one year prior, right down to the uphostery on the chairs. (The Psychic gift runs in the family.)

Because really—what IS time, anyway? I can tell you—it’s not what we think it is.

Anyway. My RMAEA instructor now has her materials. I took a few minutes and re-created them. She confirmed she received them. So all is well, and that particular timeline is restored.

You may notice that the past few weeks, the world feels like traffic that finally started moving on the 405 after being dead-stopped for several hours. Or, for my more rural peeps, it’s like watching a river break free from an ice pack that’s been there for months, when the water roars forward, pushing the mammoth log jam forward.

That’s what snapping back into a predominant timeline feels like.

And it’s occurring to me that even though I’m wildly fascinated with this, and even though I’m weirdly wired to recall the *entire* wiped-over timeline once I’ve exited it (which has been a real source of WTAF for me over the years), I’ll never be able to notice the “pre-compression” of a timeline jumping off track right before a major shift—until after the event.

Because even though I’m now aware of this energetic pattern, and the physical attributes associated with a timeline jump, and what occurs after the jump, I won’t notice the jump until I see something missing, that was once there: a conversation, notes, files, emails—now not existing, at all. And me either looking like a loon, reciting conversations to people we “never had” (REALLY??), or me looking like a super-genius who solved a complex problem in no time at all. Because I’ve already worked through the problem, for hours—with someone else.

The prophet Joni Mitchell put it the very best: “We don’t know what we’ve got til it’s gone.”

Pave paradise, and put up a parking lot. Until the parking lot vanishes, as the predominant timeline that would bring about the most optimum existence–rights itself.

Maybe that’s what we’re all waiting for?