Messages at the Right Time

Messages at the Right Time 1

I didn’t get very far in. But far enough.

I was so nervous! I had the brochure in hand, grabbed a little sheepishly from the networking table at the last psychic fair I’d gone to. Some there advertised having been trained by this lady, so that counted as credentials to me. I’ve figured out by that point I could sling a Tarot card to reasonably good effect but had no idea what I was doing. I wanted background, guidance, ideas. I was looking for some clue, as to what I should be doing.

I’d read every word in that light brown brochure a dozen times, maybe two. I’d done Tarot readings on going, asked for signs, prayed. Everything I could think of, looking for some kind of guarantee, this was what I should be doing. All systems were go. I was simultaneously mesmerized and terrified.

The brochure said the teacher was one of the “Ascended Masters.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Really? How on Earth would you verify such a thing, anyway? Do you just wake up one day and realize this? Is there a certification committee? Is this indication she’s very spiritual or very full of it?

I decided it didn’t matter, anyway. Whether there actually existed ascended masters or whether she was one was ultimately irrelevant. Only if there was something for me to learn there. I had just gotten a decent car. So the drive over to her house was feasible, if a bit long. The costs were reasonable and per-class, so there was no ongoing roadblock to going. Basically, I had no real-world excuse.

I was still pretty green, out-of-the closet. In that place where you know there’s something there, you feel it in your gut, but you’re still scared to mention it to others. Because YOU already feel kind of insane, and you’re not looking for a damned second opinion! My husband did a lot as far as encouraging me. He could see my interest, and suggested I get more involved. Had he been dismissive or acted as if I were being ridiculous, I don’t know how long it may have taken me to dip my toe back in. But he did encourage me, and so I showed up.

There were maybe 15 people, in a big room upstairs, at the teacher’s home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html. I wasn’t sure what I was expected–but that wasn’t it. She felt warm and kind, though, and I liked the environment. Even the folks there that sound kind of nutty (and there were some) were kind and mostly pleasant to be around. I fit in, as much as I do anywhere. There were lectures, discussions, and a guided meditation. I enjoyed myself.

At one point during the evening, went around the class, asking why were all there. God, I was nervous. I knew so little about all this stuff. Just bits and pieces. Mercury-Saturn was terrified of saying something incredibly stupid.  And I thought, hard. Why was I there? Really, why? What did I hope to get?  I want to find out I’m not crazy. I want to learn to be a better person. I want to…understand. I want to know whatever they’re willing to tell me.

“Messages,” I settled on, as it came to be my turn. “I’m looking for ways to hear the messages.”

The teacher snorted, waved her hand and said, “Of course! That’s why were all here,” as if I were saying the sky was blue or water’s wet. She’d already moved on as my face hotted up.  Not so obvious to me. Just the idea we CAN get messages without legitimately qualifying for a psychiatric diagnosis still was recent news to me. But I knew the issue was mine and took in the confirmation.

At the end of the night, to close we pulled little affirmations papers out of a hat. Kind of the first official message, right?! I reached, exited as my turn came…out pops “Forgiveness.”

Damn it! Really? Forgiveness? FORGIVENESS?! Is that the best you can do, Spirit? I felt utterly deflated. On the other hand, the teacher was thrilled.

“Oh, that’s a good one!” she piped up with pleasure. I’m sure I must have looked at her as if she’d grown three heads. “It frees us to connect with spirit! Forgiveness is a very. very high energy. That’s a very powerful, wonderful affirmation to draw!”

Or something like that. I have trouble remembering exactly. I was too busy being pissed off, over being reminded of the hurt I carried around; betrayals and rejection and pain I’ve been working so hard to numb. So I could stop feeling like such a bitch for being so bitter and just be happy again, you know? I wasn’t there to remember all that. I was there to forget.

I had right to be pissed, mind you. My wounds were real and well-earned. To just release all of it without fanfare seemed akin to donning a “Doormat” T-shirt and splaying myself on the ground. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but that teacher sure acted like it was important. So I resolved to open myself up to the idea, and go about my business.

I kept trying to go to more classes, but unexpectedly started having problems with the car I’d just bought. I’d signed on to the “you create your own life” concept, but sure the Hell couldn’t figure out why or how I was somehow creating obstacles to continue attending these classes that I liked. I also didn’t understand why it seemed so clear I was led to going, to only be able to attend a minute. Was I that useless? Why didn’t the Universe help, if I was supposed to be there?

It took me a while to integrate that message. But it was there, exactly when I needed it. Holding on to those wounded feelings IS what stood in my way. Being able to transcend the energy meant I didn’t have to carry it. I could access a higher vibration and feel better. And each time I can achieve the same for hurts big and small now, I get the same lift of love and higher vibration that clears my channel just a little more. That’s the only real message I got out of the classes because, at that point in my life, that’s the message everything else hinged on. That’s the lesson I needed.

Everything comes clear at the right time, don’t you think?

Whose Knot to Untangle?

Whose Knot to Untangle? 2

Is this my knot?

You ever watch somebody try to untangle a knot? Within 30 seconds of the sight, there’s an almost overwhelming urge to grab the string and untangle it yourself. I don’t think it’s just a parent thing or a boundary thing or whatever, because I’ve seen even young children reach up insistently with the cry of, “Here! Let me do it!”

No matter our personal skills, no matter the skills of the untangler, we just know we’d do it better, faster, and without the stress of watching them try!

What makes you think you’d be so much better at untangling the knot, anyway? And don’t you have some of your own to untangle? (Sorry. I know. I’d rather work on your knots than mine, too.)

We see someone struggle, we want to help. We see someone with a question, we want to give an answer. It doesn’t seem to matter much who, although the drive’s stronger for those we care about–just believing we could creates a very strong urge to do just that.

It’s lovely to be of service. I’m mega-Virgo, I’m not gonna tell you to not offer assistance when it’s warranted. I am going to say that an offer is enough, though. Or better yet, look for an invitation. Just don’t try to grab the string out of the hands than are working on it. That’s disrespectful.

How are you about leaving other people to their own knots?

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