As a little girl I was obsessed with magic both trickery and the untouchable. The metaphysical, although I didn’t call it that back then. I completely believed with every ounce of my soul. I listened to the flowers and the worms, I had an honorary burial of a cricket in a banana peal because I believed that this cricket needed to be sent off to the spirits properly. So it is no surprise that I continue to listen… I listen to anything that will talk to me. And I hear things. Things with meaning. Loaded with meaning. Dripping from the movement of the trees, flowing from the cloud arrangements. I hear the universe talk to me.
Yesterday I went for a reading, yes, another reading. Her spirit guides were talking through her as she drew cards for me. They spoke TRUTH. I felt silly for having gone, since I already knew what they were telling me. Then I went home and attempted to speak with them myself… moments fleeting with feelings and pictures engulfed me. After 45 minutes I was more alert and clear full of love and life. I asked for an animal guide, not out loud but a soft wish within. Today above my parents home was a teenage hawk preening out his old baby feathers all over me, raining on me like a ritualistic cleanse. So, of course…. I have to look up the meaning of this animal.
I hear from this hawk that I must rip out the threads of self created illusions, to surrender anything that does not align with or honor the integrity of all life. But of course, like the reading… I feel silly for asking. Because I already feel this happening within…. since I am always listening.
