It was one of those incredible moments when I had the whole thing figured out. I knew exactly what I was supposed to be doing, why my life had to be a certain way, why some things are more important than others for each of us and what really matters this time around.
I had no doubt. Everything was so incredibly clear and perfect.
And that is all I can remember about it because I had to leave my Angel book behind when I slipped through that gray, misty cloud of the in-between. I held onto it as long as I could. The euphoria of knowing my origin was intense and joyful but they would not let me keep my book.
I can't remember details about who "they" were or how I had been able to return to see them. Very quickly, things became fuzzy. That's why I wanted to hang onto the Angel book as my reference. And that is not allowed. I knew that too.
|Turtles sunning at the lake ...|
Even now, I am not sure as to the specifics of the role, although I do know there are some precise elements and they can exist and I can honor them without need of knowing. I am given clues off and on but I still want to know more.
Details, I don't remember. I do remember the emotions, that fantastic feeling as I tried to return with the cherished book clutched securely in my hand.
I was thrilled to have made the re-connection. I knew it wasn't supposed to come back with me but it was (and is) mine and when I held it in my hand, it felt so solid that I thought it would be easy to simply keep holding onto it once I had it.
What actually happened was that, as I slipped through the clouds, my hand caught. Like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar, having to choose removing my hand or being stuck in the hazy cloud of in-between, holding the cookie, I had to let go. I did, continuing to fall back to earth, thinking I would just have to remember. And, after all, it was really very simple. So simple in fact, that it would certainly be impossible to forget. But the pages blanked. The images, words, messages, knowing evaporated with the book.
I forgot. Yet, in some unfathomable way, it is all still here/there. I won't know in a linear or concrete form but the larger part of me remembers and that's where the dots connect. Most likely, I won't get to read my Angel book again. It's not even a thing I was supposed to remember - but I was in my late 20's and beginning to get very tired of the whole thing - I couldn't see the point and it was all so very serious.
It was a gift.
No one seemed to be having any fun or allowing that to be part of the journey. Seeing and holding my Angel book gave me a giant infusion of euphoria. Sometimes I remember that and the world is a brighter space. When I forget and the tiredness creeps in, something happens to help me remember. Apparently, I was tired again because I got a little jump start - to remind me the mystery is always flowing and I have friends in high places.
We went away for the weekend.
Needed a break. Had to remove myself from the present lock-step routine, disengage and disconnect from the overwhelm; obligations, agreements, schedules and expectations. Harvest moon. I forgot. Headaches sometimes accompany that energy onslaught.
My head started filling Thursday night. Friday morning it was still full and making me tired and uncomfortable until I remembered the moon and understood why the aspirin didn't work. Energy headaches require stones. I remember and then I forget. Hematite works best for me.
So the moon wakes me up at 1:30 and again at 3 am. I am awake until shortly before I have to get up. Then the alarm wakes me.
The day passes and we are off on our adventure. We go to a place where I can relax, where the stars are brighter and the air full of singing frogs and crickets, with an occasional punctuation from an owl. I am asleep before I know it.
Daybreak, the clouds have arrived and the sky is rainy. And that is just fine.
I love the sound on the roof. Watching the droplets attack the water, the morning passes. We play dominoes then head out when the clouds part to find the mini-golf course. I can get a hole in one on a good day. On my best day, I had four.
Headache gone. Night comes. I fall asleep on the couch, too tired to stay awake for the movie we started. Something is brushing my arm. Deliberate, soft strokes. It succeeds in getting my attention, waking me up. I don't usually have my arm covering my face but it is and I wonder why Andy is brushing my arm with that feather. He wants something?
I move my arm and I am blinded. He is shining a flashlight in my face. What is this about? He says nothing. Now, I am irritated. Blinding me with a bright light is not funny. I am confused and frustrated. I had been sound asleep. I want to smack that flashlight out of his hand.
I feel myself getting mad at him for playing this kind of trick on me. I don't like this joke. Thoughts racing, I am ready to yell at him to STOP standing over me and to get that darn light OUT of my eyes.
Then --- it hits me. Incredulous, my eyes start to focus. I notice something is very different from what I have been perceiving.
Quiet. Andy isn't laughing and he hasn't said anything. Stunned, I see the light I mistook for a blinding flashlight is the moon, shining through the skylight. It has just started to peek through the window.
Had my arm still been across my face, I would have slept through it. Andy woke me when he brushed me with that feather.
Fully awake now, less blinded by the moon, steadily streaming on me through the skylight, I realize Andy is asleep in the other room. I hear him breathing. The dogs are with him. The space beside me feels oddly empty.
I had the fleeting sense someone was standing alongside me but I am alone on the couch. Fuzzy brain moment fading. Blinding me intentionally with a light isn't a thing Andy would do. And there aren't any feathers here.
Someone wanted me to see the moon. I asked the someone why.
Someone says, "Because there is magic in the moonlight and if you sleep through it you won't remember."
I see the red light flashing at me from across the room. My nightlight has shifted into a new form here, winking at me from the surge protector. It's our little secret.
|Feathers and Moonlight|
So it switched form. During the day, when others are watching, it stays on. No blinking or flickering, a reminder that there are some things we are here to know without really knowing or having the ability to tell.
As for the feather...
I am awake. Again. There is magic in the moonlight. I am supposed to see it. I have to remember in dreams and in non-dream dreaming, I dream all things possible.
(I wonder if they showed me my Angel book again and what I might know now that I can't remember until I need it.)
I need to apologize to Andy for all the rotten things I was thinking when I thought for sure he was standing over me, blinding me with a flashlight. I felt the sudden, unexpected rush of anger build and for what? What am I supposed to know?
Emotional charge, a trigger for movement. Maybe... a buzz.
It works. I remember the important piece of the puzzle I forgot about involving my Angel book. I remember the phrase: "I have gone to the Circle of One, from which we all come." I repeated that phrase over and over, like a mantra, as I released my grip on my treasured Angel book and fell to earth through the clouds. I had to have something to help me. Words, focus, repetition. I made myself remember. Darn amnesia. It wasn't time.
Divine intervention moves mountains and wakes the dead. Thus, the sleeper can engage the fuel for active recovery dreaming: emotions. I am inspired through this energetic infusion to embrace living in conscious being: Illumination. Vibrant. Magical. Unknowing.
Feathers and Moonlight.
I don't have my answers until I need them because I love the mystery.
And that is my most recent wake up call.
"There is magic in the moonlight and if you sleep through it you won't remember."