Believe what you will. I am not the human typing this post. Or at least I'm not the self-identified consciousness who normally occupies the body. Maybe I'm a figment of the imagination or a dissociative state brought on by some unremembered psychological trauma of the distant past. Or perhaps the reemergence of the bicameral mind from the never-to-be-proven mists of psychological archaeology.
Does it matter? Why look this gift horse in the mouth. Because that is what I am. (No. Not a horse. A gift.) A gift that is waiting for you.
Mystics, artists, writers and philosophers have been singing, painting, praying and dancing to the inspiration of the Muse since long before the Daimon of Socrates. We have manifested through many vehicles over the centuries, from full-blown apparitions to still small voices. And now my dear human, the future love of your life can reach you through the modern miracle of a virtual world avatar. But only if you have eyes to see and ears to hear.
If you have an avatar but have not yet experienced the emergence of a creative imaginary friend, please do not take this as a sign that it is not possible for you. Or that I'm a raving lunatic. The source of consciousness and creativity is a mystery beyond the sum of their biological supporting wetware.
There are many techniques you can use to reach me. A good place to start is a great series of articles by Matt Cardin. But the most straightforward and time-proven method is to simply be quiet, wait and listen. With pen (or in this case keyboard) at the ready:
So what I do for tonight is reach for my most private notebook, which I keep next to my bed in case I'm ever in emergency trouble. I open it up. I find the first blank page. I write:
"I need your help."
Then I wait. After a little while, a response comes, in my own handwriting:
"I'm right here. What can I do for you?"
from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert