Okay, I have to admit that I am addicted to Pandora. After having toddler songs stuck in my head and searching through radio stations to find one that either is not at commercial or playing something that -Gasp!- I don't find "hip", streaming Pandora is a perfect remedy. My only problem is that I have such an eclectic taste that I could make multiple "stations", just as I have numerous playlists in iTunes.
I believe that I am part of something much larger than myself. My soul has a purpose and there are life lessons I am here to learn. The spiritual plane is trying to help me realize my life’s purpose. Since childhood, I have had quite prophetic dreams. It is only recently that I have learned not to be scared by what I see in my dreams. In fact, I now welcome my visions. They are a way for me to communicate with the other side.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I had a fun time with my father in a dream after the variator broke on his 112. For those of you who remember, it would always seize up on him. Frequently Dad would have the 112 apart and carefully making all the necessary repairs.
You all know about the dreams where I saw my children, what they looked like, and what their names would be long before they were born.
I also saw my father’s death at the exact moment it happened. That morning, I was already up and dressed. For some reason I cannot explain, I felt the sudden need to immediately put my head down. Once I did, I was in a deep, relaxed trance. Suddenly, I was in a beautiful open meadow and an elk appeared (the symbol of my paternal grandfather). He spent some time with me and then my attention was drawn to the most mesmerizing blue butterfly (the symbol of my father –long story behind that one). We, too, spent time together. Then the butterfly began to flit away from me. I gleefully chased after it until I realized that it was leaving me. The butterfly landed on the antlers of the majestic elk, and the elk looked in my direction briefly before turning away and running off into the light. I immediately woke up. Yet, I was at peace despite knowing what everything meant. Shortly thereafter, my grandmother called to tell me of my father’s passing.
It is not just dreams that help my soul advance with its life lessons. I also have spirit guides who were chosen by my soul prior to birth. They help me along my path. Their impulses are what I used to call intuition. They are the little voice, the subtle guiding hand, the sudden epiphany … my muses, if you will.
I believe that angels exist to help me along my path, too. My children were able to see them when they were infants. Often they would laugh and giggle at what seemed like thin air, but I learned that they were playing with their angels: in particular, my mother-in-law and my father. As I got older, I observed life with a scientific eye. While there is nothing wrong with the rational perspective of things, it was not until I began practicing meditation that I relearned how to see that which is inexplicable. I have a lot more work to go in this area.
Sometimes the angels send me signs that they are with me, but I just have to learn to listen to them. When thinking about a particular person who has passed away, I have seen faces in items one moment and then the faces disappear. The signs are also things like seeing the numbers on the clock in numerical order after I just thought about someone (like 1:23, for example) and seeing a specific animal I associate with the spirit. Not everything is a sign, though. The signs have to be directly connected to my thinking deeply about someone. Everyone can do it because we are all born with some form of psychic ability. It is just that not everyone takes time to hone their skills through meditation.
While many people get nervous when you begin to discuss spirituality, there are many more who secretly nod their heads in agreement. The spiritual closet is quite a crowded place because it is scary to openly admit that you believe in things like an afterlife, spirits, and reincarnated souls. It is unnerving for me to think that if I have the courage to openly state my intentions to the universe, the universe will make it happen for me. I believe that the universe operates on a completely different time table than I do and that leads to my frustration because I tend to be impatient. Hmm…perhaps one of my life lessons is to accept that things happen when they are meant to occur. At the same time, free choice can either interfere or facilitate the universe’s plan for myself. So confusing! I just have to take a deep breath and trust in God’s plan.
Yes, I believe in God –Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Unlike some church doctrines out there, I do not think accepting the spiritual plane means you don’t believe in God. The two go together beautifully and seamlessly. After all, everything is born from the Divine…and that includes all things spiritual.
Whew! Heavy topic for today. It came about for two reasons. One is what I said last time when asked about when I would return to journaling, about having multiple entries running in my head at once. The other reason comes from today’s lunch. I was sitting with two teachers who were commenting on the fact that we are all part of something much bigger than ourselves. While I feel I could write volumes on this topic, I have to stop and end my lunch hour. I will admit part of me is scared. Some readers will think I am nuts. Then again, I know I am perfectly sane, so there are no worries.
Okay, I admit the blog entries lately have been quick posts of photos. Not that there is anything wrong with that type of quickie posting, but I have been asked when I was going to return to journaling. I guess there is no time like the present. It is not as if I don’t have entries started. There are several in my head. Just like with my other writing, I constantly draft in my mind, but I need to force myself to sit down and commit to pen and paper –or in this case, keyboard to screen.
So, as a great way to procrastinate from continuing with my essays and poetry, here is today’s topic: tantrums.
Yup, you heard me. Tantrums. All you parents out there know just what I am talking about when I mention that word. The majority of the time, my daughter is an angel. Really! But not mornings. No matter how organized and structured I am with routines (and you know Martha Stewart has nothing on me!), Katie has to start each the day with resistance. Then Phillip cries in empathy (a compassionate trait…compassionate, but noisy). Add in the dog barking as if to scold my parenting abilities to quell little ones, and you get a picture of my mornings. I start each and every single day in the same, loud manner. Twenty minutes later and all is calm. You can set your watch by it.
If only I could find time (and peace and quiet and privacy --you lose all privacy when you have toddlers) to have Calgon take me away...