Chatting with The Angels

Chatting with The Angels

As you may know, I've been chatting with The Gang, as I call the angels, since a child in the crib. 

That may sound super cool, but it wasn't always cool.

I struggled with this gift when I learned around four years old that not everybody has this superpower. What did that little girl do?

She shut down. She shoved down this gift, which runs in her family - but nobody owned it, let alone talk about it. 

It's a beautiful gift, and much was done to hide it or, at the very least, diminish the beauty of the gift. Those that shared periodically were teased. Some wrote and designed a city in the future called Utopia, and to this day, they do not talk about it. Others could speak with the fae and the grass but were teased and shunned by their peers.

That little girl began to feel unsafe to BE her true reflection. So she hid. She developed nervous tics because she felt unsafe in her body. She tried to do things like others but was always a step or two off. She found activities that allowed her to BE in the public eye and alone. She reveled in activities like ballet and color guard in high school. 

Her gifts still lingered and surfaced in cool circumstances like slumber parties when everyone wanted to talk to the dead or have a seance. Seeing and hearing things was permitted at Halloween, but it was associated with all things scary and bad. She strived to be a good girl and pushed down the gifts even more. 

Life continued in this manner. She was lucky because she did find a friend who loved the spiritual side of life. It was more of a curiosity on her friend's side, but it was a start. They did weekly card readings for each other every Sunday night and went to see a psychic who reminded them of Alfred Hitchcock; spooky, delightful, and wickedly good. 

This girl became a woman and met her true Love. They had some hiccups as they both grew and matured, but they stuck together, and their Love grew stronger. She began to feel safer. Even her Love was unaware of her gift because she hid it so well. 
It wasn't until children entered the picture that her gifts began to surface again. Was it hormones? Momma Bear energy? Or was it simply the timing? One will never know, and knowing isn't important, but luckily, they are blossoming.
However, this woman was still wary of her gift. People didn't know how to respond. They sometimes looked at her like she had horns coming out of her head. Other times, friends just wanted free reading or advice or energy healing. Few took it seriously.
She kept her gift close, and only a select few knew of it. Her beloved even teased her that he was taking notes in his black book if she went off the deep end. While he jested, it hit home. 
She hid a bit more. 
It wasn't until random strangers started asking and paying for advice that she knew she could help. 
They asked her to teach. 
They asked her to make jewelry.
They asked if she could make candles and more. 
While she complied, she did not make any of these things. She has connected deeply with those that do and hires them to make her sacred aromatherapy and jewelry lines. She has channeled books, oracle cards, and more. 
She now teaches. Her courses are there for the taking, filled with information and tools to help her students drop the energetic shackles and rise like the phoenix. 
Others came forward to help. They did not. They saw a shining star and wanted to dull its brilliance by suggesting tactics to divert her attention and lightening the load in the wallet. They were a wolf in sheep's clothing. They provoked her to expand her product line to make selling easier. She trusted them, and still they did nothing. She fired them all. 
She became more resilient. She allows only a select few into the inner sanctum of her thoughts, but she is still wary. 
You see, this woman, now a crone, sees the larger picture of ALL. She knows where the dots line up and how to assist. However, she has learned that not everyone wishes assistance. Most would rather complain and muddle through their life.
So she still stays mute on many occasions knowing that those present do not wish to hear solutions. They would much rather complain and live in a fog. She knows they are not happy with the kind of life, but to them, change is more fearful than staying put in misery. 
It is their life, and she trusts that their path will bring them ultimate happiness and bestows blessings upon them, and rarely closes a door. 
This woman is a treasure, a goddess, a mother, a crone.
This woman is me. 

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