The Young King of the Black Isles depicts my mood on the morning of the Archangels’ departure.
Gifted with the presence of the five Archangels, my life has been impacted with impunity for five days. Some of the events:
An Editor Appears:
I discovered a new neighbour, Linda, who has become a welcome walking partner. She is an Editor who, I discovered, dubs the type of writing I’m doing at this moment as “Domestic”. It’s not my preferred style.
She works with a published author, Pearl, who has built a website that connects readers and authors: Book Club Buddy. Pearl lives in Thailand and Canada and hopes this “buddyship” concept will catch on. Perhaps it can lend support to self-published authors who really dislike self-marketing.
Linda, my Editor neighbour, also spearheads a group in Scotland who works with communities throughout the world, customizing literature that teaches people how to be supportive to their own Mentally Challenged.
This writer is awed by this gift of literary personage.
Walter, my Italian artist friend, (click here to see the article) had made all arrangements to take his mom back to Italy this month. Walter phoned to say goodbye and bubbled with enthusiasm about his mother having at least one more trip to her birth place. However, I just learned that she died in her home city in Canada. I have yet to learn whether or not Walter even made it to Italy. He loves his family home in a little town near Milan. He tells me the Von Trapp family gifted the tiny community with their castle that sits atop a hill and guards the village.
Another friend, S., is now orphaned. After being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years ago, her mother was brought, kicking and rebellious, to one of our care facilities. At least S. was able to see her mother fold into a routine that provided a safe and predictable life for the remainder of her time on the planet. As my friend fulfills the Executrix role for her mother’s estate, grief sits off to one side. Who knows when it will decide to kick in? She knows my phone number and she says she’ll use it.
A woman with whom I share a mentorship relationship phoned from Cambodia last night which delighted me into love bulges. Her partner and she were off to visit the Angkor Wat. “What?” I asked.
“Yeah. W – A – T,” she spelled. She assumed I knew what she was talking about. Thank goodness for laptop computers and high speed internet. They can undeservedly make us appear very intelligent. She learned that Internet service in Cambodia was not easily accessible, but she found a way to place a 20 minute phone call for $8.00 Canadian dollars – important stuff for a mother who is used to communicating with her daughters daily.
Having been to Japan and Thailand, they will return to Japan where her partner will speak at a conference. He’s a scientist who does exploratory work in the Arctic.
Her reason for calling? To express gratitude and love as she lives out a life that she has created through her belief system. She thrives in a lifestyle that is spiritual, healthy and well functioning. She walks her talk.
She gives me a tiny reassurance that my soul may be living its true purpose. Tears well up and slide recklessly into a wet blotch on my clothing. Imagine what a soppy mother I would have been!
To top this off, two other woman approached me, during the angelic visit, and asked if I would mentor them. Seeing those eyes, feeling their nervousness, and knowing the courage that it takes to ask, I opened my arms and heart.
Then, last night, Stanley phoned. “Hi, kiddo! Are you alright in all this damned weather? Just got back home and I’ve been wondering if you needed anything.”
Humbled again. Shocked into speechlessness. This man lives with a time bomb. A family history of terribly high cholesterol readings, he tops the scale. When I was at his shop while he fixed a lamp for me a couple of months ago, he informed me that he’s quit his meds because of the side effects.
“Stanley!” I shouted. He’s hard of listening. “We cannot afford to have any of our circle dying. Smarten up. Take the damned drugs!”
“What’s better? Being so cock-eyed dizzy that I can’t do a thing or being able to feel useful?”
“There’s no better. Be both!” The lottery will pull my number long before he’ll listen to any of my directives.
When he called last night, I told him I knew he was taken by ambulance to a city hospital. That meant the situation was serious. After five days in the hospital, he’s calling me to see if I need any help?!
“What was the problem, Stanley?”
“Don’t know. My stomach just about blew up”
“Was it my banana loaf? Did you eat it when you were off your meds?”
“No!” he said too quickly.
Archangels, please make certain Stanley takes his meds. Or, if you prefer, hide the loaf in his freezer by putting it right in front, in plain view where he’ll never find it.
My three requests for the visitation were:
1. For the World: That our world transform into a peaceful, loving planet with a complete understanding of Divine Unity and Love.
2. For my Family (I use “family” the broadest sense): That all my family know abundance and health throughout their lives. Let abundant love fill their hearts, minds and souls.
3. For me: That I find my soul mate immediately and live in abundance and love, soulfully and physically, for all time.
Because my meditations contained numerous reassurances that this is not a five-day contract, but one of eternity, I know that my requests have been, are, or will be answered. As in the past, with Divine Source, the answers will be a story unto themselves.
I have burned those requests and fed the ashes to the tiny stream that flows past my house and keeps the neighbourhood menagerie in fresh water. The deer can drink the prayers and flourish.
Was this simply an imaginary experience? The morning of the appointed departure, I felt special beloveds were leaving. I didn’t want to put away the candles. Planting the flower was difficult. As directed, I ate the apple that sat on the envelop holding the three requests. I sighed, “My heart wants to cling to your divinity. My soul wants to hide in the folds of your love. While I know your power lives on, I want you to take me with you and let me live in your realm.”
Blessed and refreshed, I have sent the Archangels to three of my Soul Journer sisters.
I will continue feeling huge waves of gratitude. I will continue to appreciate catching things I drop. I will give appropriate credit when something happens that makes life so much easier. I will know why something or someone appears at the perfect moment. I will remember that I have abundance, love, soul mates, health and every last thing that I could possibly need.
So do you.
This has been a “we”, not a “me”, experience.
(See what the Guides have to say after this Visitation – next post)
Love bulges while reading this, domestic writing or not.
Thanks, Cindy. Appreciate your comment very much. I’m ready to get back to story.
You continue to be the amazing friend we knew and loved while in the ‘far north’!!! Pat and Keith
Well look who’s here…Hi Pat! Thank you so much for coming around and for leaving a comment! How good to hear from you. I just finished reading a joke that Keith sent about Tequila. Are you in Arizona soaking up some warm weather or are you home until Christmas at least?
If you look up Daughter Theresa (three parts) in my blog, https://souldipper.wordpress.com/2010/09/17/daughter-theresa-part-i/ you’ll read about our intrepid pilot Theresa Bond. It has opened the door to some interesting connections.
Look forward to Keith’s usual Crazy, Zany, Christmas Newsletter!
So please you enjoyed your visit. 🙂
I’m tired. Should read: So pleased that you enjoyed your visitors! 🙂
Hope it’s “good” tired, Nancy – from great food, friends and frivolity.
I have abundance, love, soul mates, health and every last thing that I could possibly need.
I’d be well served to remember that.
What a lovely sculpture your candles have made. And how graced you are to have had such lovely visitors.
Yes, Mel, this little detail is one that is tough to remember. I find that I accept reminders from many sources! Hope you are well!
Hmmpff . . . the time difference makes me look like a WIMP! I typed those comments at quarter of 1 in the morning, not 9:45. 🙂
And, yes, a good tired ~ cooking, eating, laughing, swimming, walking, playing games, and laughing some more.
My nieces are here until Sunday.
No offense to the Archangels . . . but my nieces are my FAVORITE visitors. 😉
“Domestic writing” – what exactly does that mean???
What a wonderfully international community of friends you have; and, this was a very dear wrap after the angels.
P.S. – Thanks for the read on the author/reader site. Love it …
Yes, these two women are really doing a lot for writers in our area. The site is on the front page of the weekend supplement to our local paper which shows the tenacity of my new neighbour.
Good question. While the definition is up for grabs, I envisioned it to mean something close to “elaborate journalling”. It connotes something to her circle of literary folk, but it was not meant derogatorily.
Hi Amy .. loved this post & could definitely relate to all you said – you have such a wonderful way with words and with your thoughts that grace us where-ever we might be .. such sadness with so much hope and gloriousness of light ahead .. and the prayers in the flowing stream.
Blessings to you .. domestic writer!! Thank goodness for us domestic writing goddesses?!?!?!?!!? Fun thought ..
Lovely post – have a wonderful week .. Hilary
Thank you so much, Hilary. Pleased as punch that you relate…it’s a joy to give.