When you have heightened intuitive gifts, sometimes you have to stop yourself from completing that age old question: Is it a blessing or a ... and just look for the blessing. At the time, it may seem like a curse, but no such gift from the Universe would be a curse, so taking time to sit back and reflect often reveals the blessing, as shrouded as it may be.
On the drive home tonight, I just knew there would be a baby animal on the road that needed to be rescued. I knew it like I knew today was Thursday. All I kept hoping was that it wasn't one of the playful kids in a fenced pasture I pass several times a week. I stayed in the left lane thinking that would give me the best chance of seeing both sides of the highway. My eyes were darting back and forth, and back and forth.
And just ahead in between cars in the right lane there was a brief clearing and I saw. I saw what seemed to be the down of a parent goose being swept up in the air as the other parent was frantically circling several goslings. I couldn't stop. There was a stream of cars behind me and no space to safely pull to the right and off the road quickly enough.
I watched in my rearview mirror as another car in the right lane approached and it seemed to me as if they slowed down. It was hard to judge as I still had to keep my eyes ahead.
Tears started rolling down my cheeks. The sobbing started. How is it that I knew an innocent creature would need help and then I was left powerless. I ran through possibilities. If I pulled over I could run back along the shoulder and try to coax them off the road. But what if my approach frightened them and they ran back out. What if someone swerved to avoid them and I was there. From what I could deduce, they were trying to get across the four lanes of highway, they were just starting out, not reaching the other side, would I be able to affect their instinct.
So, I continued driving, my vision getting more and more blurry. I just kept seeing the frantic adult and very frightened and confused goslings. When I got home, I changed and I went outside and hugged Alibi and cried while I told him what happened.
It wasn't until I picked up my computer to write this blog that it struck me. Whenever I set out in the car, I always ask my angels to keep my path clear and all animals off the road and to guide me back home safely. Knowing in my gut there would be an animal in the road kept me in the left lane. My path was clear. I returned home safely. Sad, but safe.
Showing posts with label intuition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intuition. Show all posts
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Monday, April 22, 2013
Stop and Listen
There are some things that I just know. I know them either before they happen or without being told. What I don't know yet is how to truly listen for this gift all of the time.
The little things like seeing a friend in a vision out with her husband and later she tells me she and her husband are going out, or just knowing with conviction that I need to connect with someone, they seem almost benign. It's when I give them thought that I recognize they are more than a coincidence because the message is so strong.
The big things, like death or waking up one morning knowing clear as a bell that my partner has hooked up with one of my friends, those never seem benign. Yet, how did I know?
These past weeks have been chaotic, ungrounded, physically painful. I had a visitation from the Archangels and my house and I were turned upside down for five days during their stay. I was experiencing absolute frenetic energy and it was jarring.
Then one of my hens, Dumpling, went missing. She disappeared sometime within 2-3 hours in the middle of the afternoon. That was Friday, April 5th. I searched this ranch high and low and found no sign of her, like she just vanished. And for the past two weeks I have continued looking for her, still resisting the reduction in the hen headcount of eleven, and asking Archangel Ariel, the protector of animals, to watch over her wherever she might be.
Last evening, I was out feeding the horses. I kissed Hy Note and moved on to dole out the sweet blue grass hay. As I kissed him, I had a strong recollection of his very intense and severe colic episode last fall. He was in so much pain, he literally was walking into trees. I immediately gave him Reiki while I waited for a call back from the vet and he managed to stand still for a few moments to receive the energy. With this memory calling my attention, I turned back around to see Hy Note looking at me, and then he put himself down on the ground. A horse does not lie down during feeding. I ran for a halter, got him up, scooted him around a bit and the gas passed. Thankfully, this time he had only a minor belly ache. Before heading in for the night, I made sure I could hear his gut sounds and that he pooped, signs that his system is functioning as it should.
This evening, I was collecting the pearls from the girls. As I picked up 3, I looked at them and saw a dark brown oblong egg, which really wasn't there because Dumpling is the only one who lays dark brown, oblong eggs.
Earlier this morning, the goodles had knocked over a bale of hay. Rather than pick it back up and restack it, I thought I'd take it apart and use it first. This knocked over bale opened up a hole between bales; it was like a tunnel. I looked at the hole with my head cocked to one side because it seemed strange that it would be there. Carla and I had stacked the hay pretty well.
This evening, I looked at that hole again and I even bent over to look in. While it was light outdoors, it was dark in the hole and I thought I should go in and get my flashlight and see what this hole is about. I didn't do that then. Bodie was sniffing at the hole and for a minute I thought maybe the ranch bunny was in there.
I was out in the dry lot, again spreading out the evening feed, and Pinkie came up to me licking her lips and with a definite thought on her mind. So, I followed her out and around the corner and there she was. Dumpling was barely standing at the entrance of the hole! Feathers were scattered around and she looked roughed up. I imagine one of the dogs managed to pull her out. I could tell something was wrong with a foot and I wasn't so sure about one of her wings. I ran to the tack room to get a towel I have in there for the just in case moment, and I wrapped her up, grabbed a literal handful of hay and brought her inside.
First things first, I comforted her and thanked Archangel Ariel. Then I shook up the NutriDrench and gave her some, undiluted, straight into her beak. This is a syrupy liquid filled with electrolytes and nutrients and that no matter how much you wash your hands, you still smell it on your skin. I put her in the kennel and ran out to get more hay. The goodles were circling and calling me, Pinkie was hiding under the shelf in the garage because I had scolded her and Bodie wouldn't come close. Dumpling's water cup was filled immediately and put directly under her nose. I could hear Shadow and Pippin walking in the gravel, not where I want them to be, and as I went down to the hen house to get her some food, I found Shadow inside eating the grain. Thankfully, he has become accustomed to being chased from inside and walked out on his own--it was easy, I needed that.
I left the goats out to browse and I went back in with the pellets and set them out for her. I wet my fingers and put them to her beak. And then I gave her a Reiki treatment. She settled right down, closed her eyes and I watched her body rise and fall with her breaths.
Chores still needed to be completed, so I reassured her I'd be back. She turned her head and looked at me and I could feel her gratitude. I asked Hy Note, the guardian angel of my animals, to help her heal. I told Alibi she was back--for the past two weeks I've been asking him if he saw anything. Shadow is such an old soul. As I held him, I asked him to send all of his angels to give Dumpling strength. When I locked up the hens, I told them Dumpling was in the house. Truly, very truly, they reacted! Heads up, chicken chatter amongst them.
With the flashlight, I went to look at that hole in the hay. It's only a bale-width deep. I looked from above; could she have fallen in? It was not likely. The hole is on the bottom layer of hay, so it is on a pallet. I suppose it's possible she got stuck, which explains her hurt foot. And did the dog/s drag her out? I think so. Why isn't there a pile of chicken poop in there? I don't have a very good explanation.
Just now, I checked on her again, and she is alert and looks directly at me. Where was she for over two weeks?
Getting back to listening. Her disappearance never seemed final for me and for these past two weeks I have been asking Archangel Ariel to bring her back, in one form or another. My petitions didn't seem futile.
After the Archangels left my house, I understood the need for the chaos. I had become so consumed by external events and influences in my life, that I couldn't keep anything straight in my mind. I couldn't remember from one minute to the next, seriously. So, if they couldn't get me to stop and go inward on my own, they were going to bang me up and bruise me quite a bit. Kind of like being hit over the head with a frying pan--you certainly could not ignore that!
Recognizing this place of inquietude, I went for an acupuncture treatment last Thursday. Everything shifted and lifted. I felt joy again. Last Friday, I really did dance for joy!
With that veil of heaviness and gloom shaken off, I could be available again to tune into this gift of intuition, of knowing, of seeing.
What did I learn? Trust it. It's real.
The little things like seeing a friend in a vision out with her husband and later she tells me she and her husband are going out, or just knowing with conviction that I need to connect with someone, they seem almost benign. It's when I give them thought that I recognize they are more than a coincidence because the message is so strong.
The big things, like death or waking up one morning knowing clear as a bell that my partner has hooked up with one of my friends, those never seem benign. Yet, how did I know?
These past weeks have been chaotic, ungrounded, physically painful. I had a visitation from the Archangels and my house and I were turned upside down for five days during their stay. I was experiencing absolute frenetic energy and it was jarring.
Then one of my hens, Dumpling, went missing. She disappeared sometime within 2-3 hours in the middle of the afternoon. That was Friday, April 5th. I searched this ranch high and low and found no sign of her, like she just vanished. And for the past two weeks I have continued looking for her, still resisting the reduction in the hen headcount of eleven, and asking Archangel Ariel, the protector of animals, to watch over her wherever she might be.
Last evening, I was out feeding the horses. I kissed Hy Note and moved on to dole out the sweet blue grass hay. As I kissed him, I had a strong recollection of his very intense and severe colic episode last fall. He was in so much pain, he literally was walking into trees. I immediately gave him Reiki while I waited for a call back from the vet and he managed to stand still for a few moments to receive the energy. With this memory calling my attention, I turned back around to see Hy Note looking at me, and then he put himself down on the ground. A horse does not lie down during feeding. I ran for a halter, got him up, scooted him around a bit and the gas passed. Thankfully, this time he had only a minor belly ache. Before heading in for the night, I made sure I could hear his gut sounds and that he pooped, signs that his system is functioning as it should.
This evening, I was collecting the pearls from the girls. As I picked up 3, I looked at them and saw a dark brown oblong egg, which really wasn't there because Dumpling is the only one who lays dark brown, oblong eggs.
Earlier this morning, the goodles had knocked over a bale of hay. Rather than pick it back up and restack it, I thought I'd take it apart and use it first. This knocked over bale opened up a hole between bales; it was like a tunnel. I looked at the hole with my head cocked to one side because it seemed strange that it would be there. Carla and I had stacked the hay pretty well.
This evening, I looked at that hole again and I even bent over to look in. While it was light outdoors, it was dark in the hole and I thought I should go in and get my flashlight and see what this hole is about. I didn't do that then. Bodie was sniffing at the hole and for a minute I thought maybe the ranch bunny was in there.
I was out in the dry lot, again spreading out the evening feed, and Pinkie came up to me licking her lips and with a definite thought on her mind. So, I followed her out and around the corner and there she was. Dumpling was barely standing at the entrance of the hole! Feathers were scattered around and she looked roughed up. I imagine one of the dogs managed to pull her out. I could tell something was wrong with a foot and I wasn't so sure about one of her wings. I ran to the tack room to get a towel I have in there for the just in case moment, and I wrapped her up, grabbed a literal handful of hay and brought her inside.
First things first, I comforted her and thanked Archangel Ariel. Then I shook up the NutriDrench and gave her some, undiluted, straight into her beak. This is a syrupy liquid filled with electrolytes and nutrients and that no matter how much you wash your hands, you still smell it on your skin. I put her in the kennel and ran out to get more hay. The goodles were circling and calling me, Pinkie was hiding under the shelf in the garage because I had scolded her and Bodie wouldn't come close. Dumpling's water cup was filled immediately and put directly under her nose. I could hear Shadow and Pippin walking in the gravel, not where I want them to be, and as I went down to the hen house to get her some food, I found Shadow inside eating the grain. Thankfully, he has become accustomed to being chased from inside and walked out on his own--it was easy, I needed that.
I left the goats out to browse and I went back in with the pellets and set them out for her. I wet my fingers and put them to her beak. And then I gave her a Reiki treatment. She settled right down, closed her eyes and I watched her body rise and fall with her breaths.
Chores still needed to be completed, so I reassured her I'd be back. She turned her head and looked at me and I could feel her gratitude. I asked Hy Note, the guardian angel of my animals, to help her heal. I told Alibi she was back--for the past two weeks I've been asking him if he saw anything. Shadow is such an old soul. As I held him, I asked him to send all of his angels to give Dumpling strength. When I locked up the hens, I told them Dumpling was in the house. Truly, very truly, they reacted! Heads up, chicken chatter amongst them.
With the flashlight, I went to look at that hole in the hay. It's only a bale-width deep. I looked from above; could she have fallen in? It was not likely. The hole is on the bottom layer of hay, so it is on a pallet. I suppose it's possible she got stuck, which explains her hurt foot. And did the dog/s drag her out? I think so. Why isn't there a pile of chicken poop in there? I don't have a very good explanation.
Just now, I checked on her again, and she is alert and looks directly at me. Where was she for over two weeks?
Getting back to listening. Her disappearance never seemed final for me and for these past two weeks I have been asking Archangel Ariel to bring her back, in one form or another. My petitions didn't seem futile.
After the Archangels left my house, I understood the need for the chaos. I had become so consumed by external events and influences in my life, that I couldn't keep anything straight in my mind. I couldn't remember from one minute to the next, seriously. So, if they couldn't get me to stop and go inward on my own, they were going to bang me up and bruise me quite a bit. Kind of like being hit over the head with a frying pan--you certainly could not ignore that!
Recognizing this place of inquietude, I went for an acupuncture treatment last Thursday. Everything shifted and lifted. I felt joy again. Last Friday, I really did dance for joy!
With that veil of heaviness and gloom shaken off, I could be available again to tune into this gift of intuition, of knowing, of seeing.
What did I learn? Trust it. It's real.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Shipboard Reading
Written with Barb in mind.
Here we are on our first full day at sea heading south to Acapulco. The previous two weeks on land have been rather hectic and quite planned out. So today, I took advantage of a slow morning, sipping my tea, listening to the ocean as it pushed back from the ship's hull and reading one of the books I brought: How to Think Like a Horse.
In a paragraph titled The Spirit of the Horse, the author writes, "Horses have a special sense that allows them to detect our moods....Without physical contact, they can read and pick up very subtle signs from a human."
I stopped reading, closed my eyes and relived an experience I had a few weeks back that attests to this. I was out in the dry lot playing with the horses and had Lola in a halter. We had just gone for a walk and we were returning to our beginning point where I would release her. All of a sudden, from the ranch next door, I, we, heard this alarming call from Blue that said nothing short of "Wait! I don't want to go!"
Without any warning tears just started rolling full stream down my cheeks and I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I was so caught off guard by this overwhelming emotion it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Blue was being taken to his new home, not far up the road, but away from us. He did not want to go.
It was simultaneous: as my tears rolled, Greco, Blue's soul mate , was running back and forth calling out to him, his other pasture mates were whinnying to call attention to the fact that someone was taking their friend, and several horses who were gathered around me were calling back to Blue as he disappeared down the road. It was a symphony of heart-wrenching separation anxiety pleas. Ugh. Honestly, it felt like my core was being pummeled.
Next I knew, Lola, who had been standing beside me with her perfect manners and patience, had moved in closer, leaning in to me just enough to let me know she was there. She let her head relax down and she didn't move as I effortlessly cried and loved on her. Her body frame softened, her skin became lithe so my hand could sink deeper inward toward her tender beating heart. This kind, giving gesture just made me weep more.
It was a "clean" cry. No sobbing, just cleansing tears washing over my dusty face as I stood amongst the most beautiful beasts I have come to admire and understand. I felt that pang that they were feeling when one of them, one of us, was leaving. And Lola felt my pang. For that moment in time, I was one of them.
Here we are on our first full day at sea heading south to Acapulco. The previous two weeks on land have been rather hectic and quite planned out. So today, I took advantage of a slow morning, sipping my tea, listening to the ocean as it pushed back from the ship's hull and reading one of the books I brought: How to Think Like a Horse.
In a paragraph titled The Spirit of the Horse, the author writes, "Horses have a special sense that allows them to detect our moods....Without physical contact, they can read and pick up very subtle signs from a human."
I stopped reading, closed my eyes and relived an experience I had a few weeks back that attests to this. I was out in the dry lot playing with the horses and had Lola in a halter. We had just gone for a walk and we were returning to our beginning point where I would release her. All of a sudden, from the ranch next door, I, we, heard this alarming call from Blue that said nothing short of "Wait! I don't want to go!"
Without any warning tears just started rolling full stream down my cheeks and I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I was so caught off guard by this overwhelming emotion it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Blue was being taken to his new home, not far up the road, but away from us. He did not want to go.
It was simultaneous: as my tears rolled, Greco, Blue's soul mate , was running back and forth calling out to him, his other pasture mates were whinnying to call attention to the fact that someone was taking their friend, and several horses who were gathered around me were calling back to Blue as he disappeared down the road. It was a symphony of heart-wrenching separation anxiety pleas. Ugh. Honestly, it felt like my core was being pummeled.
Next I knew, Lola, who had been standing beside me with her perfect manners and patience, had moved in closer, leaning in to me just enough to let me know she was there. She let her head relax down and she didn't move as I effortlessly cried and loved on her. Her body frame softened, her skin became lithe so my hand could sink deeper inward toward her tender beating heart. This kind, giving gesture just made me weep more.
It was a "clean" cry. No sobbing, just cleansing tears washing over my dusty face as I stood amongst the most beautiful beasts I have come to admire and understand. I felt that pang that they were feeling when one of them, one of us, was leaving. And Lola felt my pang. For that moment in time, I was one of them.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
What Calls Your Attention
This one is dedicated to my mother who asked today.
It is worth noting what gets our attention. On a given day we may go about our business, routine or not, and only see what is put directly in front of us--what we have to see. Then there are the glory days when we are in touch with people and things not right in front of us, the not so obvious.
What are we doing, or not, that we do not always see the not so obvious?
This is weird, but an example. We were watching Paul Blart, Mall Cop (that is weird but not my point) and boy oh boy was I transported to the Burlington Mall in Massachusetts! I suddenly lost sight of what was going on in the movie, and sure as the hay is growing high, I knew that odd little misplaced ramp in the middle of the walkway that the mall cop slid down was in the Burlington Mall. I have walked around that ramp, up and down it, countless times wondering "why on earth would someone put a ramp here?"
In another scene, again being drawn to the Mall itself and not the movie characters, it was as if I was walking out of Lord & Taylor, passing the Rainforest Cafe and heading toward the center escalator to hit Talbots. Quick camera flashes, full of action, but I was standing in the Mall. So familiar. The last time I was in the Burlington Mall had to be some 8-10 years ago. Weird.
A week or so ago I woke up and my dear friend Milagros in Argentina was screaming in my head. Not literally. Oh, I could deny it if I really tried, but I paid attention. So I dropped her a quick note to tell her how much I missed making her salads and that I loved her. She wrote me back that just as my message had come in, she had lost a much loved uncle.
I had this very elaborate dream about my niece Jocelyn. Strange details. Left a message for my sister and she called me back. Yes, Jocelyn was behaving in these particular ways.
So what does it mean? To me?
There is so much going on around us all the time. With cell phones and texting and Bluetooth, it's nearly impossible to get away. I think we get so caught up in 300+ channels, immediate response and satisfaction and downright overstimulation that those delightful subtleties and intuitive callings can get overlooked.
I find so much joy in listening to my heart, sitting with my dreams for a bit in the morning and meditating while standing in the middle of a pasture. When I allow my emotions to get chaotic, all kinds of messages get missed. When I focus on being calmly active and actively calm, all kinds of messages get my attention.
It feels good. It feels real. I feel alive and grounded. I am connected.
And I know my malls.
It is worth noting what gets our attention. On a given day we may go about our business, routine or not, and only see what is put directly in front of us--what we have to see. Then there are the glory days when we are in touch with people and things not right in front of us, the not so obvious.
What are we doing, or not, that we do not always see the not so obvious?
This is weird, but an example. We were watching Paul Blart, Mall Cop (that is weird but not my point) and boy oh boy was I transported to the Burlington Mall in Massachusetts! I suddenly lost sight of what was going on in the movie, and sure as the hay is growing high, I knew that odd little misplaced ramp in the middle of the walkway that the mall cop slid down was in the Burlington Mall. I have walked around that ramp, up and down it, countless times wondering "why on earth would someone put a ramp here?"
In another scene, again being drawn to the Mall itself and not the movie characters, it was as if I was walking out of Lord & Taylor, passing the Rainforest Cafe and heading toward the center escalator to hit Talbots. Quick camera flashes, full of action, but I was standing in the Mall. So familiar. The last time I was in the Burlington Mall had to be some 8-10 years ago. Weird.
A week or so ago I woke up and my dear friend Milagros in Argentina was screaming in my head. Not literally. Oh, I could deny it if I really tried, but I paid attention. So I dropped her a quick note to tell her how much I missed making her salads and that I loved her. She wrote me back that just as my message had come in, she had lost a much loved uncle.
I had this very elaborate dream about my niece Jocelyn. Strange details. Left a message for my sister and she called me back. Yes, Jocelyn was behaving in these particular ways.
So what does it mean? To me?
There is so much going on around us all the time. With cell phones and texting and Bluetooth, it's nearly impossible to get away. I think we get so caught up in 300+ channels, immediate response and satisfaction and downright overstimulation that those delightful subtleties and intuitive callings can get overlooked.
I find so much joy in listening to my heart, sitting with my dreams for a bit in the morning and meditating while standing in the middle of a pasture. When I allow my emotions to get chaotic, all kinds of messages get missed. When I focus on being calmly active and actively calm, all kinds of messages get my attention.
It feels good. It feels real. I feel alive and grounded. I am connected.
And I know my malls.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
