Cardinals: Yes, I see you!

Cardinal (575x426)So, I’m sitting out in the Sacred Garden, just soaking everything up. Listening to the trees, the leaves rustling in the wind. Do they have anything to say to me?

The birds have  been especially delightful since I’ve been putting out some birdseed magic for ’em, and my mind drifts, getting lost in nature’s whispers…

And then there are the Cardinals. I’ve have noticed so many cardinals lately. I mean, the odd Cardinal here or there doesn’t seem out of place, but I’ve never seen them like lately. And again, now. They watch me just as I watch them, eying me from a distance. Alone, quiet, just watching me.

Is that supposed to be a sign? What do Cardinals mean, anyway? I’m considering Googling it on my phone. But I don’t like to. It’s easier to do it inside, on the keyboard. Maybe I should just…

WHAP!! Jolted back into the now by the smacking noise directly in front of me,  accompanied by flapping wings.

Maybe four feet away, a very large, very ruby-red cardinal had hit and perched sideways on the fence. How did he keep from getting hurt, smacking into the fence?

He, whipped his head around, his huge, black eyes aimed directly and intense into mine. It was the same look a mother might give, had she caught you red-handed sneaking cookies out of the cookie jar before dinner.

Okay, okay! I see you, already!!

I acknowledged him. Just as suddenly and dramatically, he swooped down behind the fence amongst flapping wings and just…disappeared. There didn’t seem to be any place for him to fly off without me seeing him, yet he did.

Duly noted. Cardinals demand attention. If I’m going to be thick, they may get very loud!

So yeah. I looked up Cardinal symbolism.  Their name came from color matching the vestments worn by Roman Catholic Cardinals. Regal fellas! The brighter red ones are male, while the lighter colored, less distinctive birds are female.

As I’d expect with that deep red color, Cardinals are associated with energy and vitality. All that read makes me think Fire Element, so passion, creativity and energy would be part of the mix.

A few sources mentioned the Cardinal’s penchant for munching on decaying food and icky insects, which is a good reminder to pay attention to what one “eats,” either physically or energetically. Be kind to the body, be it the physical or the auric body, I guess.

20120526_170739 (423x575)Red is the color of life’s blood, love, and the heart. Follow your heart! Like Cardinal signs in astrology, Cardinals are known for taking charge and aggressively defend their territory. Cardinals initiate and set the tone. They are leaders. Be a leader.

Since Cardinal eggs hatch 12 days after they’re laid, they’re often said to reference cycles of 12 hours, days, months or whatever. Whatever it is, it’s coming. Maybe in a multiple of 12!

Still, I’m paying attention. I always try to pay attention. And a few days after? I spied this little cloth bag on the floor of my office, with what else? A bird appliqué.

I asked my husband about it, because I didn’t recognize the bag. It’s from a Christmas gift to him, a gift card from several years back.  But it had absolutely no business in the middle of the floor, other than to get my notice. I was amused.

Seems the birds are saying, “Hello!” Usually it’s just my cats or the squirrels that do that.

Do birds (or other animals) come to bring you messages?

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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?

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Ignoring Spirit Messages? I try.

Ignoring Spiritual Messages

I don’t want to hear it! 

Sometimes, I just don’t want to hear it. “La-la-la-la-laaaaa!”

Like a week or two ago, I got an email that I didn’t want, addressing a situation that I’d prefer to erase. Easier, less painful that way. I don’t want to even go there.

Except it came in, from a cell phone, in a batch of 3 copies sent at exactly the same time. Crap. It triggered my “three times and it’s official” rule, and I KNEW it wasn’t accidental. As soon as I saw the three copies in my inbox, I got immediate goosebumps.

That’s another one of my triggers, the goosebumps. I get them when it’s something important to pay attention to. It’s like a poke, drawing my attention and confirming the message, “Hey Dixie! Your ass should be paying attention now.”

“Damn it!” I said to myself.  I did listen. I managed it, but it took me a few days to be capable of hearing it. That’s how long it took, for my emotions to simmer down enough.

The latest message I’m avoiding is one I’ve put off for a LONG time now…that I need to clean out my house. Not clean like vacuum, but go through belongings, dig through closets and under beds and in cabinets. And remove whatever doesn’t fit anymore. But my monkey mind with it’s monkey schedule can always find a million and two things more pressing, more appealing, and just more compelling.

It’s coming. I know better than to fight it, and yet, I still do. I just know it’s going to shake a lot of stuff loose–like maybe something I didn’t even know was in my head and/or energy field–and while I want the benefit, the impact, well…the process is just not so very appealing. Le sigh.

Do you ignore your messages? For how long and to what ends?

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Misunderstanding the Voice in my Head

Spirit Guide Gives a Warning

Sprit Guides Try to Help

Speaking of my invisible friends, it’s not always the case I  understand what they’re saying. I remember a few years ago, I was experimenting with better communicating.

“Please, give me guidance without me always asking first, okay? I might forget to ask when I need it. I might not know, but I want help. In advance. And louder! I want to hear it loud!” This is the kind of thing I was requesting, repeatedly.

I was out running errands, that day, when it came in. Getting into my car, I suddenly heard in my head, “LOCK DOORS! LOCK DOORS!”

“Oh my God. What does ‘LOCK DOORS!’ mean? I keep my car doors locked. Is somebody going to try and carjack me, or what?” It kept up, still loud.

“LOCK DOORS! LOCK DOORS! LOCK DOORS!” Over and over, “LOCK DOORS!”

What door, I wondered, and saw our front door at home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html. My daughter would be home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html from school by then, alone. Uhhhh….I called her on the phone.

“Do you have the front door locked?! Are you sure? Make sure. Right now. I don’t know what this is, but I’m hearing to keep the doors locked. Loud! So please go check it.” She did. My family is respectful of me, even if they don’t always see the same magic I do. Still, I didn’t want to overreact to a voice in my head–I hear they lock you up for that–but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit it was starting to freak me out.

It was confusing. There were no incidents that night–nobody tried to break in, no escaped convicts reported, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, there was not clue one as to why I’d pick up that signal. I felt a little disappointed, figuring I must have misfired it somehow.

That is, until the next day. My daughter and I were going out, but were delayed because I accidentally locked the keys in the house.

Ohhhhh….locked doors. Okay, that was loud and clear. I just missed it like a big, red brick upside my head. And how funny is it that my locking us out of the house was already set enough in motion I could have been warned about it the day before? That amazes me. All of it does, really. I hope it never stops.

Do you get heads up’s? And do you “get it” when you do?

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Invisible Friends and The Voices in Your Head

Spiritual Invisible Friends

Invisible friends or Spirit Guides? 

The Cloud Spirit story reminded me of more bits and pieces from childhood I’d dismissed as I grew up, just not thinking a lot about it anymore. Looking at it now, it does make me wonder…As the youngest, my brothers all at least five years older than me, I spent a lot of time alone. More or less, that is. The chorus in my head kept me good company!

I had an invisible friend, for example, who lived in a little purple key-chain that was shaped like a chandelier crystal. All I had to do was look through it and see the prism of light to call her up. We had long conversations, the two of us, and she would always come to visit when I was lonely. She was friendly and fun, always interested in what I had to say.

I also frequently had conversations in my head. I’d address comments to absent friends, telling them what I’d say if they were with me, and listening to what they’d say back. I could (and did) go on for hours this way–I never grew tired of it. The answers I got seemed as real to me as the ones I would have gotten had my friends been there.

In retrospect, it kind of makes me wonder…maybe my invisible friends were realer than I gave them credit for. Maybe they are still there–they just don’t talk as loud when you quit listening so much. Maybe I should see about reconnecting with some of them. Who knows what they may have to say now?

Did you (or do you) have any invisible friends?

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Many Fathers Before

people in clouds reincarnation

Happy Father’s Day to All Your Dads!

When I was little, I used to tell stories. About things that happened in  “my other family.”

It confused my parents at first. They asked what I meant.

“You know. My other family. Where I lived before I lived here. Before I was born.” Because I knew I had to be somewhere before I was born. I didn’t come out of nothing!

I thought back, and decided, I’d lived with my other family. The one before this one. I could see them in my head. My other family was Chinese, by the way. Everything about my other family–and especially that they were Chinese–amused my father to no end.

“What about before that family?” he asked.

“I had another family! But it’s hard to remember; it was a long time ago.” It was! Three lifetimes ago, at least.

Many Fathers Before 2I had many, many anecdotes from my other family, and the more I talked, the more I remembered. The stories would come especially when I’d lay on the grass and gaze up in the clouds.

I’d see figures, Cloud Spirits as I thought of them, some from my other family, and others just passers-by. I could only catch little bits of their world peeking over the edge of those clouds. But if I let my attention drift into the scene, I still knew what was going on. Sometimes, they’d put on plays, tell stories or teach me lessons. I spent a lot of time gazing up at the Cloud Spirits. I always felt a sense of peace, communing with them.

“Mom doesn’t like it when I tell stories about my other family, does she?” I’d whisper to Dad, in conspiratorial tones. “She thinks I’m making it up. But I’m not! I am not making it up. How would Mom know? She wasn’t there. I remember.”

Eventually, I stopped telling stories about my other family. It disturbed my mom enough to avoid, and I became less sure of myself. At some point, I stopped paying attention to the Cloud Spirits. I stopped talking to my invisible friends, or having the conversations in my head with people who weren’t there. I stopped a lot of things, because it seemed it was time for me to grow up.

And it’s taken me most of my life to start reclaiming that. Part of the reason is I have a husband who can hear me. Thanks to him and my father for listening, regardless of what they saw for themselves.

Happy Father’s Day! How is yours?

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