Category Archives: great horned owl

running to the angels…

One of my favorite things to do is listen to webcasts and internet radio interviews.  It is there that I can find my favorite people and specific topics that are not only informative but soothing.  Once I put the earbuds in and close my eyes, its as if the voices are speaking just to me.

Recently  I listened to a online interview with Doreen Virtue, the angel counselor and author.  She, of course, was speaking about her angel therapy; how to recognize and interact with the angels around us.  Her gift is so awesome.  I always find her so reassuring and so certain of the presence of angels and ethereal helpers that I find I can ride along just on her faith.  At times when I’m questioning myself, I find her, God or whoever is in charge of angels more believable than my own heart.   I can very clearly picture Doreen as a divine messenger, fluent in the language of the angels spreading the love around us with ease and grace.  Its a role that I can see bestowed upon another, someone more deserving, someone more enlightened.  That makes sense to me in a self deprecating sort of way.

One phrase in particular that she said made me perk up and pay attention.  I’m loosely paraphrasing here but the message is exact.  She stated that once you feel that you are communicating with your angels, once you find your magic that you should run to the angels.  Don’t hesitate, just run to them.

Wow…what a beautiful message!  Run to the angels.  YES! I love it, I’m gonna do that….OK, how do I do that?

Holding onto that message throughout the last few days, I play with the idea of a meet and greet with my angels.  Let me back up and say here that I’ve always felt a presence, a energy bigger than myself, front and center in my life.  I don’t doubt that for a moment….it might be them, spirit guides, my beloved mother, God or a collection of all of them.  I do recognize their magic in just the beauty and abundance around me in my everyday life.  But I want to take this to a more intimate level and am wholly  intrigued with a more up front and personal relationship with my angels and how exactly I’m gonna run to them.

So, I go outside this morning and and under my favorite tree to see if I can summon up any thoughts on this angel thing.  I begin to picture them there, all around me; bobbing around, floating, hovering like little baby fairies.  But wait, I can’t run to them if I make them little, I will squish them.  OK, back to the visualization… I need to work with my human and literalist personality here….I close my eyes and make them bigger, more human adult size and dang, all I can picture is one of those sappy movie scenes where the two lovers are running through a field of daisies with orchestra music in the background.  I smack into one of my angels and we fall to the ground laughing.  Sigh.  This really needs some work.

I’m definitely a work in progress.  Incorporating time with the angels is something I will add to my life but for now, I need to relax a bit and  stop trying so hard.  I recall how Charlie Brown felt when he suddenly was “aware of his tongue”.  He stood still, somewhat frozen as he described the feeling of being aware of something that has been there all along.  His tongue, this meaty mass of connective tissue has been present every day for him, helping him swallow and chew, keeping things flowing in his mouth department.  But with a crazy flash of awareness, he doesn’t know what to do with it now.  So he stays still until he and his tongue reintegrate finally relaxing and moving on with his comic strip day.

I understand that.  I have suddenly been made aware of my angels again.  No doubt  I must be a very frustrating subject for my angelic helpers because I tend to get the more overt signs like billboards and bull horns, usually missing the subtle signs completely.  Thank God they are patient entities that look at my bumbling and stumbling with love and endearment.  Last year this time, they sent me an owl to stay with me for weeks until I finally saw that beautiful gesture for the magic that it was.  I did get it, but it took me a while.  But what I lack in natural aptitude I do make up with genuine love and willingness.

So, I come inside after my episode of angel bumping in my yard and sit.  Rosie hops on my lap and we close our eyes.  We opt for prayers of gratitude and sending love out to the people in my life.  This seems like a more appropriate way for me to connect in this moment. I’ll stop trying so hard and let the love flow through me.   I’m thinking this will make us all happy for now.

straddling two worlds

I always intend for these posts to be of  value to the person who finds themselves drawn to them.   Most often my target audience, as in the people that I envision when I sit down to write, are women.  More specific than that, they are women who are sexual abuse and incest survivors.  I want them to find me and glean anything from my writing to help them make sense of the swirling crazy world that they are probably living in.

I’m not sure that my writing is fit for the general masses and I’m fairly certain that it fails to grab the attention of the mainstream.  But I’m still going to put it out there.  I know in my heart there are those so lost and frightened by the trauma of their past that I pray they find these writings along with other sources of help they need.

I want to share with them that transitioning from day to night is the toughest for me.  As the day fades into dusk, panic sets in.  It is the time that I have to hold on extra tight not to lose myself as I prepare for the dark to come.  Night is when the unconscious comes out to play and dances around with all those memories. Night is also the time when, agitated and angry, she cracks me open and swallows me whole. Speaking in symbols and metaphors, she often stays present in my mind long after I have woken up and started my day.  The line blurs between the two worlds until I feel as if I’m straddling two dimensions at once.

This has to be how many survivors feel.  We’ve been dissected into so many parts and are so out of touch with our bodies that we float around with wispy images from our dreams never quite having our feet touch the ground.  Its up to us to assemble the pieces and break the cryptic code that will set us free.  Our disassociated parts try to integrate through any means it can find and often use the unconscious as its playground.  I’m sure its why  many of us are drawn to the arts and nature as one means of healing.  Whether its through music or gardening, it is there that we make a connection that grounds us, helps us connect the fragmented pieces.

Throughout this journey, I have come across many tools and resources to heal.  I want the survivors to know even though we occupy an odd, scratched out corner of the everyday world, feeling invisible and vulnerable, there is always hope.  With the darkness comes a rare opportunity to go inside until we understand and embrace our true selves.  It is then that we can emerge an entirely new and whole being.

So for this moment, I sit with the images from the dreams of last night.  Warm images of my mother and my beloved owl Athena are present as I simultaneously recall the struggle through a maze of darkened streets, looking for a way out of something that I’m still not sure of.  The same theme presents itself again.  It tugs and nudges me to continue to unravel the story which may be repeated until I fully grasp the meaning.  I force myself to be patient and loving with the process and hope that others are doing the same for themselves.

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