When Visualization Worked Like Magic – Power of Now

I’m constantly astounded by the incredible strength of our thoughts and the force of our intentions even though I teach Oneness and Clarity Create Instantly!

Back in 2010, my middle daughter gave birth to twins, Gavin and Juliet, born mere seconds apart. They shared a spacious crib in their parents’ bedroom, positioned opposite the master bed. The twins always slept together, one at the head and the other at the foot.

One night, I offered to babysit so my daughter and her husband could enjoy a much-needed break. When it was time for bed, I followed their routine precisely: I placed Juliet at the head of the crib and Gavin at the foot, turned them on their sides, tucked the blanket snugly around them, and gave them their pacifiers.

Pleased with my efforts, I switched off the light and settled into the bed to sleep. Gavin dozed off immediately, but Juliet began to squirm, losing her pacifier and starting to whimper. 

In the darkness, I threw off the covers, got up, and navigated around the king-sized bed to the crib. Feeling the railing, I searched around Juliet’s blankets until I located the pacifier, rolled her over, secured the blanket, gave her a gentle pat, and popped the pacifier back in her mouth. She quieted down instantly.

I tiptoed back to bed, careful not to make a sound, and slipped under the covers. Just as I was drifting off, Juliet started crying again. Once more, I got up in the dark, repeated the process, and she settled down.

But a few minutes later, she lost her pacifier and began to wail once more. Exhausted, I didn’t want to get up again. So, I tried something different.

In My Imagination – In my mind’s eye, I visualized myself tossing back the blankets, rising from the bed, walking to the crib, reaching over the railing, finding the pacifier, adjusting Juliet’s position, tucking her in, patting her back, and placing the pacifier in her mouth. And just like that—she stopped crying!

Amazed, I lay perfectly still, afraid to break the spell. It worked! She stayed quiet for about five minutes—long enough for me to think she was truly asleep. Then she started fussing again.

So, in my imagination, I repeated the entire sequence. And once again, it worked! She couldn’t tell I wasn’t physically there; all she sensed was my comforting presence.

Ten minutes later, I’d fallen asleep—until she started crying again. In my imagination, I went through the same steps: getting up, walking over, fixing her blanket, giving her the pacifier. But this time, it didn’t work.

I waited, expecting her to settle, but the crying continued. Eventually I realized it did not work. Finally, I had to get up for real. I stumbled through the dark, reached the crib, felt the railing—and then I burst out laughing.

It hadn’t worked because it wasn’t Juliet crying—it was Gavin!