Your Imaginary Council

July 2026

Past Self, Future Self

Last week, someone encouraged me to tune in and connect with my younger self from 10 years ago, to see what would happen. As I closed my eyes and pictured my 10-year-younger self, I felt my current presence as comforting for her. I saw her challenges and was able to reassure her that things were going to work out okay. In the context of intuitive work, for example, she was so nervous before each reading! I was able to tell her that those nerves would become a non-issue as she gained experience, and that I – her 10-year-future self – still love using my intuitive ability to help people but no longer feel anxious before appointments with clients.

As the process unfolded, my younger self seemed to relax, trusting that various problems could be resolved, and that things might work out okay.

What struck me afterwards was that about 10 years ago, I had meditated on my 10-year-future self to see if she had any wisdom or guidance for me. I felt her presence as comforting. She came across as cheerful, attentive, and supportive. I told her about my challenges and wondered what she thought about them from her vantage point. I don’t remember asking about intuitive readings specifically, but I do recall that she reassured me about each of my concerns and was confident that things would turn out okay.

Back then, I enjoyed connecting with what I imagined was my future self, but it never occurred to me to do this for my past self. That recent experience I had was a little trippy, because it felt like both my past self and future self were colliding in the present moment.

The Sixth Sense

Was something really going on between two versions of myself from different time periods? Can we really communicate with our past or present selves? I think the short answer is, we can’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is whether the practice is helpful or not.

It reminds me of an experience I had after reading Think and Grow Rich by Napolean Hill. I was still living with my parents at the time when I saw the book among a pile of other things. It had been a gift for Dad but since he showed no interest in it, I asked to take it and have a look.

It’s been so long since I read it, but one part still stands out in my memory. It was in a particular chapter called “The Sixth Sense.”

In this chapter, the author described a habit he formed to emulate the positive qualities of his heroes, such as Abraham Lincoln, Charles Darwin, and Thomas Edison. Every night before going to sleep, he would visualise a group of these men seated with him at a table. He called this his “imaginary Council”, and the Cabinet members were his “invisible counselors.” He would address each member aloud and listen to what they said back to him in his imagination. What happened over time surprised him. He said this exercise began to seem real, the advice given by his heroes were specific and led to powerful outcomes, and each of the men displayed unique characteristics that he didn’t expect.

My Imaginary Council and the Dalai Lama

I was interested in trying out this imaginary Council exercise with my own heroes. My greatest aspiration at the time was for spiritual growth and awakening, so I chose several spiritual masters to consult with. These included the Buddha, Jesus Christ, Gandhi and the Dalai Lama, among others.

Like Napolean Hill, I noticed that these invisible advisors appeared to have their own personalities and mannerisms that I couldn’t have predicted. As someone who identified as a Buddhist with minimal knowledge of Christianity, I expected that the Buddha would be approachable and easy to connect to, while Christ would likely be more difficult to communicate with in my mind’s eye. Yet, Jesus Christ was the most friendly and jovial of everyone there. The Buddha, surprisingly, came across as serious and not particularly engaged in our conversations, as though he didn’t quite approve of what I was doing! Gandhi smiled a lot without saying too much.

My interaction with the Dalai Lama in this visualisation exercise was the most memorable. He had been quite chatty and open with the others, and he seemed eager to talk about anything. I turned to him and raised the topic of vegetarianism. My choice to stop eating meat had led to a clash with my parents, especially my dad. He often used the example of Tibetan monks to argue why it’s important to eat meat to stay strong on our spiritual path. More than once, he showed me a book containing the words of the Dalai Lama, recounting how he had wanted to be vegetarian but needed to eat meat as advised by his doctor.

As I shared this with my imagined Dalai Lama, he seemed to listen thoughtfully. He then explained that he had said those words a long time ago (back in the 1970s), and that things may have changed since then. He invited me to come and see him, so he could explain further.

Of all my “invisible counselors”, the Dalai Lama was the only one still living, so technically it was possible to go see him. But being the Dalai Lama, to find and seek a private meeting with him was unlikely. After I finished the visualisation, I did a little search and found that he would be speaking to the public at Darling Harbour in Sydney Australia soon. I asked Dad if he could take me to the event, and he happily agreed. Even if I couldn’t see the Dalai Lama one on one, perhaps I could ask a question as part of a bigger audience.

When we attended the Darling Harbour event, we saw that the crowd was enormous. It was an outdoor setting. Dad and I sat down on a patch of grass way at the back of the audience, then listened to the Dalai Lama talk.

Towards the end, people were invited to ask questions. It became clear that I was too far away from the stage to be picked, and I was also terrified at the idea of asking my question in front of so many people. Plus, what would I say? “Your Holiness, I imagined that you told me to come see you, so you could explain that you’d changed your views on vegetarianism over time. What do you have to say about that?” It would be absurd.

Then a miracle happened. Not one person asked about food or diet, yet the Dalai Lama suddenly started to talk at length about meat. A man had asked about lifestyle tips as a spiritual person, and the Dalai Lama gave a long response without mentioning “lifestyle” once. He said he had tried to be vegetarian when he was younger, but it was very hard back in those days. He thought he needed to eat meat for his health. His views had changed since then. It brought him great sadness to see chickens trapped in cages for food, and to know that millions of other animals were slaughtered every day for people to eat. He had advocated for a change in monasteries, encouraging Tibetan Buddhist monks to adopt vegetarian meals. On and on it went, and I couldn’t believe my ears. I am not exaggerating when I say that he ended this Q&A section of his appearance by loudly and emphatically saying, (almost shouting), “WE MUST PROMOTE VEGETARIANISM!” Perhaps the craziest thing of all was that at that moment, Dad turned towards me, raised his eyebrows, and smiled warmly. He spoke about it in the car afterwards, and he became much more accepting of my decision to be vegetarian from then on. It was as though the Dalai Lama had given permission of some sort, to allow me to stop eating meat, at least in Dad’s eyes.

Unlike Napolean Hill, who met with his imaginary Council every night for years, I stopped this exercise after what happened with the Dalai Lama. I think I was a bit spooked by it, but grateful all the same. I’ve never shared openly about it until now.

Meet Your Imaginary Council

Napolean Hill wrote that he had been reluctant to share the story about his imaginary Council meetings, as he suspected that people would misunderstand or think he was crazy, but with age he no longer cared so much about what others thought. Interestingly, there was a member of his Council who was still alive at the time of his visualisations, and he went to see him after a particularly interesting dialogue about the nature of matter and energy. As the author recounted in Think and Grow Rich about this man’s response: “He smiled broadly, and said, ‘Your dream was more reality than you may imagine it to have been.’ He added no further explanation to this statement.” 

How could this be possible, to receive valuable advice from an imaginary version of someone who’s still here in human form? Is it their higher self who pays a visit to people when called upon? Is it a function of some infinite intelligence, where we can connect to the ideas of anyone, anywhere? Again, we cannot know. But we can decide whether it’s helpful or not.

Napolean Hill made it clear in his book that although those meetings took place in his imagination, they offered tremendous value. To use his words: “during my meetings with the ‘Invisible Counselors’ I find my mind most receptive to ideas, thoughts, and knowledge which reach me through the sixth sense.”

Whatever goal or challenge you may be facing, perhaps you could have a go at visualising the people who you admire and look up to – whether known from long ago in history books or currently alive and well – then chat with them all in your own imaginary Council.

Alternatively (or in addition), you could tune in to your 10-year-future self, to tap into inspiration or assistance, or connect with your past self just for fun, to see how far you’ve come and to offer encouragement. You might find that your present self can receive much benefit from it.

Click here to receive new articles by email

<-- Previous article