🎧 Episode 5: My Spirit Guide is a Conspiracy Theorist Who Wears Crocs





The journey to connect with your higher self is supposed to be sacred. Serene. Illuminating.

Mine was... none of those.

Because instead of meeting some majestic, glowing light-being or ancient wise owl made of stardust and sage smoke, I got Gary.

Yes. Gary.

My spirit guide wears Crocs, drinks invisible Red Bull, and believes Atlantis invented Wi-Fi.


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The Summoning of Gary

It all started with a late-night attempt to “ascend.” You know, the usual—candles, crystals, gentle spa music, and a YouTube video titled “Meet Your Spirit Guide in 5 Minutes (No Tools Needed).”

I followed every instruction. I opened my crown chakra like it was a retractable skylight. I breathed like I was made of fog. I called on my ancestors, my higher self, and any available cosmic interns.

And then Gary showed up. Just stood there in the middle of my living room, glowing faintly like a nightlight shaped like a man who lives in a retired RV.

He wore Crocs with galactic-print socks. His beard looked like it had never been fully committed to. And on his T-shirt, in shimmering letters, were the words:
“I’ve Seen Things the Government Can’t Explain.”


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Gary Has Theories™

Gary didn’t speak in riddles or chants. No. He launched right into a TED Talk about how the moon landing was real, but the moon itself is hollow and run by retired Lemurian monks.

He told me my aura was leaking due to electromagnetic overstimulation caused by artificial gravity pockets from my toaster.

Then he handed me a crumpled, astral napkin with a hand-drawn map labeled: “Crystals I Licked in a Past Life.”


---

Carl Was Into It

Here’s the thing. Carl — my monocled cactus roommate and the only reliable entity in this multi-dimensional mess — liked Gary immediately.

Carl adjusted his monocle, looked at Gary’s Crocs, and said, “Finally. Someone who understands frequency footwear.”

Excuse me?

They fist-bumped. Spiritually.


---

Gary’s “Wisdom”

Over the next few days, Gary made himself cosmically at home. He hovered near the ceiling fan, muttering things like:

“You ever wonder why all pyramids point to the same sandwich shop in the astral realm?”

“Birds aren’t real in this dimension, but in the fourth, they unionized.”

“If Atlantis didn’t invent Wi-Fi, then why does my aura buffer when I’m near salt water?”


I tried to object, but he shushed me with a wink and offered me a handful of energetic granola (which I declined after it whispered my social security number).


---

Spirit Guide or Conspiratorial Roommate?

I kept waiting for him to give me some profound spiritual guidance. Instead, he critiqued my chakras like they were failed science fair projects.

“You’re all clogged in the solar plexus, kid. That’s why you keep losing arguments with your reflection.”

He wasn’t wrong, but still.

He made me wear a tinfoil belt “to deflect thought surveillance from Mars-based AI.”

He taught me a breathing technique that turned out to just be hiccupping with intention.

And he told me my true name was “Quantum Snack.”
(I’m not even mad. I kind of like it.)


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Vocabulary Corner

Spirit Guide: A being assigned to help you navigate your soul’s path, preferably not while wearing Crocs.

Quantum Snack: A nickname Gary insists is “encoded in your auric DNA.”

Frequency Footwear™: Shoes that align your vibes with interdimensional harmonics (according to Gary and Carl).

Conscious Hiccupping: A breathing ritual Gary swears balances your internal compass with the Bermuda Triangle.



---

Carl’s Unhelpful Input

“Gary has a point,” Carl said, lounging in the window and absorbing morning light.

“About which part?” I asked. “The Wi-Fi pyramids or the sandwich shop in the astral realm?”

“Both,” he said.

He then showed me a diagram he and Gary had sketched together titled: “The Lizard People’s Aura Maintenance Schedule.”

I was losing control of my own spiritual sitcom.


---

Emotional Rollercoaster… with Crocs

Despite the madness, something shifted. I did start paying attention to my inner voice. I stopped scrolling mindlessly before bed. I started having dreams again—vivid ones. Ones where I built ladders out of cassette tapes and rode whales made of anxiety through portals of acceptance.

Gary never said “love yourself” like a yoga influencer. Instead, he’d say, “If Atlantis could survive disappearing, so can you.”

And weirdly… it helped.


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Lessons I Learned from Gary (Against My Will)

1. Not all spirit guides look like sages. Some look like they manage the night shift at an interdimensional gas station.


2. Sometimes wisdom is buried under nonsense. And Crocs.


3. You can laugh your way through a breakdown. It still counts as healing.


4. Don’t judge who the Universe sends. Even if they eat conspiracy granola.


5. Your higher self might show up in unexpected shoes. Just be open. And maybe have extra tinfoil on hand.




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Quote of the Week

> “Reality is just a shared opinion. Trust your gut. Also, don’t eat gas station sushi in your dreams.”
— Gary, Spirit Guide & Croc Ambassador

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