My Guides and I -- Part 2

Angels and Ascended Masters were not something I thought I believed in. Part of my search for spiritual enlightenment included two years at Sacred Mists College an online place of learning for primarily Wiccan studies. I learned a lot there; however, it was not as important as other things I was learning about myself. It was there where it was suggested that I do some research on Shamanism. And it was there where I first learned about Angels and Masters.

As before, synchronicity once more intervened...Chapters had a huge after Christmas Sale. How could I not go?!

Have you ever walked through a book store, not intending to buy anything, and a book literally jumps out at you? And when you pick it up, as you must, the book feels just right. Even the cover is pleasing. It becomes a must-have...superceding the promise you made to yourself that you were not going to buy any books. That's a promise just waiting to be broken.

In any event, Doreen Virtue's Archangels & Ascended Masters somehow ended up in my hands. In the book, the author lists about eighty dieties; their country of origin, religion and alternate names. It's easy to read, and enjoyable. It was not Ms. Virtue's intention, she says in her introduction, to write a long, involved book. There are many books and places for more in-depth study. But it did give me names and history of three of my guides. And a hint of a few I have yet to know.

I have always felt a strong affinity with Hecate; however, she wasn't mentioned in this book. The Triple Goddess was, though, in Brigid and in various others in differing pantheons. Many years ago, I saw my crone as a bride or as a mother; but the time for this has passed. Now I see the wise woman...the hag in the forest. By the sheer force of her personality alone, she propels me forward along this quest for spiritual identity. She is not one I would want to disappoint.

And then, of course, there's Archangel Michael. I finally know the name of the man who walks with me, as he's called by the various psychics who I have consulted over the years. They always comment on him; he stands over my right shoulder. Being given his name, after having nothing other than my senses to rely on with regards to advice I was receiving from him, makes me feel complete.

Michael's chief function, in Ms. Virtue's words, is "to rid the earth and its inhabitants of the toxins associated with fear". He works with the lightworkers, helping them to perform spiritual teachings and healing work. Michael is associated with fire; and as stated in the book, he can make you sweat. It is good to realize that what I thought was a return to unbearable hot flashes is more than likely Michael, giving me advice and aid on some subject or other. His presence feels really hot!

And because I call Michael whenever I feel afraid or unsure of my next step (actually, I even call on him to help me start the lawnmower...he has never let me down), he helps me with motivation and commitment and direction. And he gives me courage to continue with my life's purpose.

I once believed that I should only pray...whether to my guides or Creator...if life was so bad, I had no other choice. I have a far more relaxed and loving approach now. I have taken my teachings from books, seminars and from Shaman Maggie; all of which encourage me to call on my guides whenever I need help, with anything, large or small. Once, when I was complaining to Maggie about my inability to know who my guides were, she suggested I ask them to help me take a shower.

What an incredible experience that was. The usual order of things in taking a shower was thrown out, and a new, presumably better way of showering presented itself. I still giggle to myself as I look back on that shower. I don't want to spoil the surprise of what happens, so I won't go into more detail, but I hope you try it.

I thought, after study and conversations with those in the know, that I had a relaxed, joyful relationship with my sensory guides. But now that I know who my guides are, their names and their historys, I feel so much more open and more sure of them. They have carried me many times in the course of my life; it seems only fair and just that I now do what is expected of me without fear and compromise.

After all, my guides are here to help me with my life's journey, whatever path I take. If I know who they are and what their purpose is, I can pay back by being the best that I can be, at whatever task is set before me.

With my guides' help, eventually I will even understand Shamanism, and why I chose such a difficult and joyous path. Once I was told, "There will be answers" and I really believe I am getting a little closer to finding them.

As strange as it may seem, we all have our guides...each and every one of us. But unless we call for help directly, asking their advice, they will not help. It is the free will thing...guides will gladly help after you have decided first where you want to go, even if it is a very wrong path. They will watch you stumble and fall, they will pick up the pieces, and set you on your way once more. But they will not interfere, unless they are asked.

And when you have chosen the best path for you to take, your life's purpose, you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt it is right. Everything will fall into place with a smoothness you never knew existed and synchronicity abounds. Optimism, happiness and joy are your primary emotions.

And you will make your particular set of guides and allies very happy.

My Guides and I

The more I write about my guides and allies, the more I get asked how I found them. Truly, I am the worst person to ask. I didn't believe I had any. How inflated was I, to think that I may be worthy...yes...worthy of a guide or an ally? Who was i in the scheme of things? Nobody mentioned guides and allies when I was a child. I just had my "imaginary friends"... never telling anybody about them.

And because I didn't interact with my "friends" in later years, no longer believing in such things, I lost them. But just for a time. In my recovery from alcohol, I became very aware of my guides. It was an accepted thing among the other alcoholics I suddenly found myself with. I was among people who understood who I saw and were aware of the spiritual events that happened to aid my recovery.

I learned to speak with my guides. I learned to "feel" them when they were around me. It was a very long, drawn out process, over many years. The ability to sense my guides was accelerated when my daughter died. I spent a year learning who they were as they carried me through hell on earth. Once again, when I needed a huge crutch, there was never any thought that they would let me down.
I could sense them very easily; but only twice have I actually seen them, as physical beings. There is an old crone who gives me the stimulus to write. She does not mince her words; her sarcasm is legendary. But at the same time, when she appears, I am surrounded by the most loving energy, filled with it. She gives me the courage to stand and face my fear. She is a warrior.

There is a very large man, one whose hands are as large as ham hocks. He has appeared to me only once, and yet I know him as well as I know myself. His energy signature is imprinted into my soul. He has been with me since birth, and has carried me through two divorces, child rearing, a grandchild, the death of my daughter and myriad other disasters and joys. He is my protector.

I can easily use my senses and feel these two guides, and others. And I would ask for guidance, and hear or feel the answers to my questions. But I didn't know who they were. I didn't know what their history was, or if there even was a history, which led me down that rabbit hole for awhile. Practicing Shamanism and Reiki can lead me off the main path a lot, studying the reasons behind the reasons. My point being, it took a very long time before I felt a very urgent need to know more about these beings who walked with me.

And then, in the way of the Universe, I had a homework question to answer for Shaman Maggie. Who is your favourite Ascended Master and why, or, if you don't believe, why not? That's when I started my research into the beings who inhabit the Upper World, the spirit world. Who lived here? and what were their names?

To be continued next post...

The Medicine Wheel

Last June I built my Medicine Wheel. It is a permanent and very personal Wheel. It will no doubt change over the years, as I gather talismans presented to me by my allies. I built it in the early morning, waiting for the sun to pass over Grandfather Tree. Eagle even came to watch, letting me know that he would carry my intent to spirit. He spun a few concentric circles, and then went on with his day.

When Gray and I bought our home, we were both impressed by the huge tree growing in the backyard. It was the only tree, and of a kind neither of us could identify. Eventually, we learned it was a Sequoia, a species that is not indigenous to our northern area. But it is grand…very tall, with a trunk that seemed to grow upwards in a spiraling pattern. It exudes power.

It was struggling a bit when we came; we have fertilized and watered and Reiki’d it, and it has repaid us over and over. Last year, I felt we required a definitive ending to the lawn, from where the protected root area of the tree began. The cedar logs, originally used and discarded by previous owners, lay behind the fence…and we restored them, in a rather haphazard manner, around the tree. Immediately, the tree gained even more stature, if that were possible. And then, when we were rockscaping the back yard, we placed three very large boulders around the tree. Again, the gain in definition.

Then we left it. I knew full well there was more work to be done to honour the tree…but I needed to contemplate and speak with him. A season passed, and then two. Work that needed to be done in the yard had to be put aside while I nursed a hip injury. And then a lesson from Shaman Elder Maggie on the Medicine Wheel arrived. My musings and reality collided…where was I going to put a Medicine Wheel? The answer was obvious.

But would it harm the tree, me messing about among its roots? I wanted the grand old tree to know I felt the logs around it made a beautiful, personal wheel. I asked the tree to care for the plants I intended to place inside the wheel…much the same as it did for the baby sequoias that clustered around its trunk. It declared its happiness and joy with my plan by seeming to dance with the wind with much more gusto than ever.

I started by planting the boulders, to look as if they had been there for eons. I planted hosta and ferns, always apologizing and assuring Tree that I would not dig deep enough to injure the fine feeder roots, and then I filled the small pockets with the plants and compost and soil. As I planted, Wind blew thoughts into my awareness. It told me which talismans to use for the wheel. It told me we needed Wind chimes, to welcome crystal clear thoughts and ideas. Wind brings power, it tells me I can do anything, and gives me incentive. I knew I must honour Wind. Now, when I wander around my Medicine Wheel, the chimes softly speak, reminding me to pay my respects to the Wheel and Tree.

I chose talismans and tools I had received over the years to add power to the Wheel. The first, my scrying stone, is one I found on the beach. This is an oblong stone that time and sand and water created a tunnel into one end. I first learned of my scrying gift looking into the rain water that collected in the tunnel's pool. The blue glass rock that was left to me by my ex-husband’s mother, a rock given to her by a shaman from New Mexico, is nestled within a craggy fold in the tree’s trunk. There are seashells, pinecones, and birds nests clustered around the boulders. Tree tells me it requires a water feature in the West, and I become overwhelmed. I ask for help from my guides to help me find the features Grandfather Tree desires.

My guides send me dreams of my completed Medicine Wheel. I see a bench, made of stone, snuggled under the tree’s branches. I see it so clearly, I know it isn’t far away, and I know it will manifest soon. And it does. Only a few days further in time, and I find what I perceive at first to be the perfect rock bench. Wisdom was etched into the faces on the slabs of rock, but somehow I knew it was not the one that was destined for Grandfather Tree. My rock bench will be made by my own hands...perhaps not so different from the example the Universe sent me.

I was in a dream state while I worked, one in which I communed with the tree, rocks, plants and other objects. I used my intuition, and later discovered every talisman had been placed in the correct position. East, West, North and South...their properties were all honoured by the tools I was directed to place under Grandfather Tree.

The tree, already so powerful, became immensely so…a benevolent power, and one which aids both Gray and I in practicing Reiki, or in trance dreaming. It has a purpose now, and I can feel the relief, joy and peace emanating from our spiral Universal Tree.

Now that Winter has arrived, our meditations are taking place indoors. But, in the night, as I lie in bed waiting for sleep, I hear the Wind chimes singing their song, as if summoning my soul. As I drift into dreaming, Grandfather Tree, the Medicine Wheel beneath it, and the chimes are the ones that direct my dreams, that tell me stories of mankind.

Those dreams tell me which path to follow, as I continue my Shaman apprenticeship. And as I walk this sometimes rocky path, the Medicine Wheel is where I will go to find the answers I need...the Wheel and Grandfather Tree.

Merry Christmas!

This is not my favourite time of year. It is a season of so much stuff! Stuff to remember... dates to circle, dinners to plan, shopping to do, music to listen to. It assaults my senses, making me feel easily rattled and off balance. And this year is an easy celebration...I've already done it! A Different Christmas
But on the hour, in the town I live in, the Town Hall chimes out a Christmas carol. The chimes seem to have been made for me...with regularity they remind me there is another reason to celebrate Christmas. A reason behind all the hype and anxiety of the Season.

The chimes catch my heart, blocking my throat. The music floats on the air like a wisp of smoke, sometimes gathering and growing and sometimes fading away with the breeze. The message always brings me back from any negative pool I happen to have sunk into. It is as if my guides send an hourly reminder.

And my guides send other seasonal helpers...yesterday a little girl who, in the summer, had thrown a corn cob at my head (over the fence, too! she's only about 7 or 8...she has a real arm!) gave me a smile and a Merry Christmas! The little altercation we had seems to have withered away.

Then there are the Christmas cards that arrive so unexpectedly from very old friends I thought were lost. There are the emails from the kids in Mexico, assuring us of their safety and wishing us a Merry Christmas! And there are the spiritual visitors in my dreams, who wish me Merry Christmas! by their mere presence in the dream, leaving me with such a feeling of well-being upon awakening.

Come to think of it, everybody says Merry Christmas! Strangers who might have mumbled a hello any other season greet you with a smile and...you guessed it...Merry Christmas! And those smiles send out rays of joy and positive energy. Rays that are sent out into the Universe, dispelling the dark, negative bodies of energy that can gather in ever growing clumps.

It is so easy to say, as I did in the beginning of this post, that this is not my favourite season. But maybe I should rethink that. The words "Merry Christmas!" automatically make me smile. Try saying these words without a smile or a joyous inflection. We light up the dark when we say those words.

I said at the beginning of this piece that this season is full of too much stuff. I take that back...there can never be too much joy and too many smiles. There can never be too much positive energy. And when I started writing, my mood was less than positive. It's wonderful how my guides taught me a lesson, right here and now.

So here is as much joy, peace and well-being as I can muster as I say to you all, with a big heartfelt smile, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

The Hidden Closet

It wasn't until I took a Feng Shui course and tried to draw a floor plan for our house that I discovered the walls didn't match up. Of course, when we found the area that for no good reason we could see was closed in, the first thing I wanted to do was poke a hole into the wall. I didn't, of course...the look on Gray's face when I suggested such a thing deterred any urge I may have had in that direction.

So I figured when the time was right, we could create a closet...much needed in a house that has virtually very few. And tried to forget about it.

But visions of gold bullion stashed in a boarded up closet, or perhaps a box full of paper money, or even a body...at the very least a box full of letters and pictures...plagued this writer's imagination, and the balance meter notwithstanding, the stories I was coming up with were becoming more and more lurid. So my attempt at forgetting about the closed up space were haphazard, at best.

And it turns out Gray wasn't totally forgetting about it, either. He suggested, as a kind of by the way, perhaps we could cut a very neat hole into the gyproc. This led to a few excited moments where I forgot the mundane life, and was transported into a completely different reality. I had to clamp down hard when my emotional body spun totally out of control, trying (with difficulty) to let the mental body's logic and clear thinking have some say in all this.

But that's Gray's job. I will enjoy the flights of fancy that can overcome me at times of adventure like this hidden closet. And so, I held my breath, as Gray cut easily through the wall.

As he cut, my guides reminded me to protect and shield myself. I had a fleeting moment to do so, as he took out the board and insulation. Neither Gray nor I felt any bad energy of any sort, as we both peered, one at a time, into the hole. Shining the flashlight up and around, we noticed the interior of this space was a completely finished closet. Right down to the raised tiled floor. Painted and shelved and finished. In a house with only one closet.

It was empty. We puzzled about it a bit, trying to imagine why this closet had been closed off. Typically, Gray's logic led him to thinking about possible construction problems, while I imagined a small child being so frightened of the closet his parents had to close it off, thereby depriving future occupants of much needed space. Gray put the board back in place, until we further dismantle the wall, and I mulled over unanswerable questions.

During the next few days, I noticed a feeling of sadness hovering over the area in this room. On the Winter Solstice, I smudged the area thoroughly, invoking the help of my guides and allies. I felt a wonderful rush of energy course through my body as I did this.

In this old house we are trying to bring back to its former beauty lie many secrets. And as we uncover more of these secrets, perhaps we are releasing trapped energy, good and bad, stored throughout these many years. I certainly felt a release the following day, described in Messages From Beyond cont'd., where many signs from the Creator were presented to me.

Releasing old stored up energy that is no longer helpful is what I'm learning to do, as I uncover the layers of secrets stored within me. This process really is rejuvenating.

And then, in the closet, there's still that raised floor...