Many Children See Auras

Our guest blogger is Cynthia Sue Larson author of Aura Advantage.

Many Children See Auras

You may recall having seen auras when you were a young child. Perhaps you could see the mood of your family members as waves and shapes of color that changed as they were angry, happy, or sad. Many children see auras around people and material objects, and can keep this ability if they are encouraged (or, rather, if they are not discouraged). While young children may not yet be able to describe the fullness of perception they experience with their beginner’s minds, they can convey some of their auric perceptions through art. When children can nurture their artistic vision and inner “knowingness,” they preserve their natural inborn talent to perceive the universe of energy as it truly is. Parents and teachers can provide support and help preserve these natural talents of children by being more aware of the effect of their words when they view children’s art. A supportive mother might say to her artistic toddler, “I like the way you colored your sister red and the dog green,” even if she doesn’t see a red haze around the sister or a green fog around the dog. The child may not even realize he is drawing something that his mother does not see—but this kind of encouragement will help him keep his perceptions keen.
My first memories of being a baby were a blur of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings. When I was in a room, I saw and felt swirls of colors that ebbed and flowed around me like waves of light in an ocean of color. There was serenity in my solitude, which would change into a cacophony of color when my parents returned to my room. I could see these colors whether my eyes were open or shut, although they seemed brighter and clearer when my eyes were open. As my eyes developed the skill of focusing on objects, I gradually paid more attention to what I could see when my eyes were open so that I could not see so well with them shut. In this way, my natural ability to see auras gradually fell dormant as I grew up.
When I was an infant, all my senses seemed interconnected, most especially vision and hearing. This way of experiencing the world is known as “synesthesia,” a Greek word that means “perceiving together.”
Whenever something made a sudden and surprising noise, such as a metal spoon falling off a table and hitting the floor, I would simultaneously witness a piercing flash of color that accompanied the sound. When my mother came home from shopping in a good mood, her colors would enter the house as she was still on the other side of the closed-door, fumbling to open it. The auras around everything were vibrant. I perceived a sentience in all these glowing things—whether they were living or so-called “dead.” Like colorful shadows that go wherever we will go, our auras are the one thing we can’t ever leave behind, for they are our steady companions. Their ubiquitous presence in all things animate and inanimate has led many to wonder what the true nature of this wonderful energy is, and how it interrelates with the physical world.
Some researchers believe that all babies are born synesthesics, although relatively few adults (one in twenty-five thousand) are aware of having this perceptual ability. Synesthesia is obviously common enough that several descriptive terms in both color and music share the same nomenclature: chromatic, color, intensity, pitch, tone, and volume. Several of the world’s best musical composers have seen colors in music. Franz Liszt was known to say things like, “This is too black,” “More pink here,” and “I want it all azure.” Ludwig van Beethoven referred to B minor as “the black key.” Franz Schubert described E minor as being “unto a maiden robed in white and with a rose-red bow on her breast.”