What the Angels Would Do

Angel of the Morning

Intuition whispers softly and guidance unfolds.  Its divinity is undeniable.

From deep inside, that tiny still voice prompts my every move.  Intuition is so much a part of our cells, we are oblivious towards its existence.  Do I hear it?  Not enough.  Sometimes the message is so sweet, so overwhelmingly perfect that I don’t believe it.

Hopefully the course that I am currently taking with Caroline Myss and Dr. Norm Shealy (The Science of Medical Intuition) will shine some light on my hesitation to take heed.   So far, I’ve learned that intuition is not a gift, it’s a skill.  That means I have to practice.

It’s fortuitous and wise that the first step in learning about any worthwhile skill is  to clean house before bringing in new furnishings.   Time with ourselves to discover our life’s pollution means facing the truth.  Tough, humiliating and troublesome, but necessary.  Without this spring cleaning, the consequences are inevitable:  we block the very skills we long to have at our disposal.

To re-assemble my fragmented spirit so intuition can flourish,  I’ve been busily gathering all the energy I’ve spread over the world.  I am bringing it home to NOW by forgiving and accepting.  There’s a number of decades over which I have left chunks of me behind in the form of judgments or resentments.  I have sent myself off to places that are nasty.  I have left my spirit with people I don’t want to spend time with.  And amazingly, I keep going back to those people and those places; I repeatedly feel those negative feelings.

As I collect and re-assemble myself, I feel powerful.  I am healing.  I do not want to continue  leaving my spirit in situations where it is not loved or nurtured.  I no longer accept fragmentation.  I have made a decision to keep my spirit in the present time.

Constant monitoring is therefore necessary.  Is this person taking my energy?  Am I giving them my energy?  Am I taking someone’s energy?  When energy exchange is detected and “caught”, a choice is made.  That choice powerfully begins healing.  In that split second, healing begins.    If I slip, I forgive myself immediately and continue my vigilance.

One of the signs of not listening is indecision.  If I cannot make up my mind, I am too wrapped up in the situation to hear my divine directive.  That happened to me profoundly a while ago:

A sister who has a health condition is highly creative and has had to learn to live frugally.  She needs her car to attend various functions that feed her mind, body and soul.  Her old car needed replacing.

Our mother had suffered a serious stoke and had been hospitalized for 24 hour care.  I had signed a Power of Attorney agreement which meant I was looking after all of her financial affairs.

My sister wondered if mom’s finances could help her buy a car quickly.  I knew that the Power of Attorney had some conditions attached to it so I went to see the lawyer who was the named Executor for Mom’s estate.  He asked, “Would your mother have loaned your sister money to buy a car?”

“No,” I answered.  “Mom was worried about spending $20.00 for lunch.”

“Well, it’s your responsibility to manage your mother’s money in the same manner in which she would.”

It made little sense to me that there was an inheritance pending for each of us, of an amount that would more than cover the amount my sister needed for a car, yet my sister could not access it.  Intuitively, it felt wrong.

I had access to our Anglican Rector so I explained the situation to him.  I said, “So, do I follow my heart or follow the law?”

The Rector looked at me and said, “Do what the angels would do.”

I phoned my sister and said, “Write  a letter to me stating how much money you need.  State that you want this amount to be deducted from the amount of  the inheritance you will eventually receive.  Fax and then mail the signed letter and I will send you a cheque .”

From the bottom of my heart, I knew the angels gave me this idea.  There was no question.

When mom died and the estate was settled, the lawyer accepted my sister’s letter with only a moment’s hesitation.  I simply said to him, “That, dear sir, is what the angels would have done.”

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