Samhain Mysteries

It's the night of Samhain (here in the Southern Hemisphere) – when, according to Pagan tradition, 'the veil thins' and we not only remember and honour our dear departed and our ancestors, we may be visited by them.

All week, around town, I have kept seeing women who looked like Yasoda, a friend who died a little earlier than a year ago – and then they would turn around and the resemblance would fade. Only tonight I thought, 'Oh of course. It's Samhain.' And then a friend reminded me it was recently the anniversary of her passing. So I guess that between these dates she would come close.

Late this afternoon, I was sitting in my living room with three friends. One looked up, over my shoulder, and said, 'Someone's here.' I turned and saw nothing, but did feel a presence very strongly (which is my more usual way of perceiving the other-worldly). She said she'd seen someone 'flit' down the passage, someone apparently very familiar with the place, and had enough of a glimpse to see his height. 'Short,' she said, and I wondered if it was Andrew (my late husband). She went over and indicated where his height had reached – exactly the same as her own. I measured her against me, and said, 'Yes, that must have been Andrew.' He was just a fraction shorter than me, and she came to the same height. I picked up a pendulum which was once Andrew's and asked if it was him. I got a big yes. (This was a woman who knew Andrew for many years and loved him dearly.)

The sense of a presence abated, and we all decided to go to that same friend's place to celebrate Samhain with a fire in her fire pit.
It was a lovely, relaxed evening. She spoke some words to honour the ancestors, including the ancestral indigenous owners of the land we live in, and we mentioned by name our loved ones who had gone 'beyond the veil'. I included, without specifically naming them, 'My beloved cats, and dogs.'

(We burnt a broken old wooden chair on the fire.)

When I came home, my next door neighbour was just driving out. Good! I would not be observed from his back yard. An opportunity too good to miss. I grabbed my wands, went outside and cast circle. Remembering my dead all over again, when I came to my cat Selene, whom I did mention specifically this time, I couldn't help some moments of sobbing.

Back inside afterwards, I saw that one of my friends had left a pencil behind, on the coffee table we'd all been sitting around. I picked it up to put aside for her, thinking to give it to her next time I see her – and then I saw something else on the coffee table. Let me explain that I had cleared and wiped down that table before my friends arrived in the afternoon. Then we had all sat around it with cuppas, buns and biscuits. At no stage did anyone see this item, which was now clearly visible in the middle of the table – the sheath of one of Selene's claws.

Selene went to her Summerlands on March 4th. Since then the coffee table has been wiped down a number of times, and the floor vacuumed.

Just now, as I type this, I am hearing noises from my kitchen. It sounds like the way my old cat, Levi (who died in 2015) used to go around and bump all the cupboard doors with his nose when he wanted to be fed.

Because I am who I am and live the life I do, these occurrences don't greatly surprise me. But they do make me glad.

Reassurance from Beyond

It's not unusual for me to get my messages from Spirit in the form of song lyrics – though it sometimes takes a  while to realise it's a messages when a few lines repeat over and over in my brain. It could just be an ear-worm.

Yesterday, even though I knew very well what the date was, and it was much on my mind, it didn't occur to me to attach any significance to this chorus I kept 'hearing' all day, over and over and over:

So fare thee well, my own true love.
We'll meet another day, another time.
It's not the leaving that's grieving me,
but my true love who's bound to stay behind.

Then this morning it finally hit me. Of course!

Yesterday was the sixth anniversary of my husband Andrew's death.

(And yes, I have received plenty of indication that he's happy and busy, working with the angels; as well as plenty of indication that he still keeps a close eye on me.)

COMFORT COMES

My little cat, Freya, left me just over a week ago, as recounted at my SnakyPoet blog.

By that evening I had developed the worst back-ache of my life, across the whole of my back from neck to tail and side to side. It lasted the best part of three days, and at its worst was almost crippling. Luckily all I had to do all weekend was sit in front of a computer, hosting my section of a collaborative virtual book launch.

That was a commitment I couldn't get out of. The only other person who might have been able to fill in for my hours was ill herself, and hardly likely to make an instantaneous, miraculous recovery just because my circumstances had suddenly altered.

As it turned out, the launch was tremendous fun. Doing my duty was a blessing in disguise, as it took my mind off the emotional distress. And what with pain-killers and hot water bottles, sitting at my desk was probably one of my better options for not exacerbating the back-ache.

I had to be on deck for the launch on Saturday morning, so couldn't dash off to the doctor until Monday. I called on absent Reiki from two friends, swearing them to online secrecy. (I didn't want to deflect attention away from the purpose of the launch, let alone make my collaborators feel guilty. Being caring people, I thought they might have done, however irrationally.)

What caused the pain? There were two possibilities. Either the new weekly tablet for osteoporosis, which I began that morning, or Freya's departure that afternoon. Maybe both.

Painkillers, heat and absent Reiki did help some, but not as much as I'd have liked. Not immediately, anyway. I wondered if I would have to end up going to hospital. But who would look after my remaining cat, Levi, if that happened? And how would the poor lad cope with my absence, when still distressed at that of his sister?

During my tea break on Saturday, at one point I lay down on the bed to have a cry — partly at losing my Freya, partly from pain, and partly in anxiety about how to cope. It was clear to me that, with sole responsibility for Levi, I just can't afford to have any serious health breakdowns!

Levi came onto the bed and snuggled up to my back, needing comfort himself. I started to turn, so as to take him in my arms and say, 'What are we going to do, Levi?' As I did, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Andrew (my late husband) standing by the bed in his white shirt. I didn't even see his face, but after living with the man for 20 years, I know his torso — and his energy.

'Andrew!' I said, half turning back — not in alarm but in surprised greeting. Of course, the image had already vanished (that is the way of it in my experience) but I knew he was still there.

'I don't know what to do,' I told him. I explained about the pain, the possibility of hospital, and my concerns for Levi. I explained about having to be present for the launch, so as not to let others down.

'Help me!' I said. Then I lay back, exhausted from that small effort.

I sensed him reach down and give me Reiki. I didn't feel disembodied hands on me or anything. Instead I had a mental image of him reaching his arms down so that his hands touched my shoulders. Funnily enough, although I had seen and still felt him by the bed, my image was of his arms having to elongate and stretch a long way down. But I didn't think much about that at the time, through the pain; it only registered afterwards.

What I did feel was the Reiki taking effect very quickly. Not only did the pain reduce considerably, my sorrow was eased by a deep feeling of peace. Neither pain nor emotional distress went away entirely, but I was very soon able to get up, feed myself and Levi, and go back online refreshed.

By Sunday morning the pain was starting to leave. By the time I saw the doctor on Monday, it had almost gone. He said he couldn't rule out the medicine but that was not one of the known side-effects, and as it's a slow-acting drug, he wouldn't have expected any reaction so soon. He did, however, think it feasible that it could have been due to emotional stress.

'We won't know until you take your next tablet next Friday,' he said. The mere thought of taking another was scary, just in case it was the cause!

But it is true that emotions tend to go straight to my body. I'll get a cold, or a headache, or a bit of low back pain. I just never experienced quite such an extreme physical reaction before. (Well, there's a school of thought, to which I partly subscribe, which says most or even all physical symptoms can be traced to an emotional origin — but not usually so fast.)

I saw my chiropractor on Tuesday. He felt my back and confirmed that there was  'a large stress component' in what had happened. And I took the second tablet this Friday without the same effects.

Since then, Freya herself has come back to visit, as detailed in this short poem.

It's nice to get such vivid reminders that my dear departed are still around, and to know that Andrew still has, as I always told him, 'the best Reiki hands in the business'.

Here Be Dragons, 3: Signs and Wonders

1. The Critter

People who read my facebook posts will know that I have something living in the wall between my living room and garage. The first indication was when, sitting at my desk by that wall, I heard something fall, slide and land with a thump, then lots of frantic scrabbling to try and climb out, but obviously failing. I thought it must be my resident possum. It quietened down for a long time, with only faint noises occasionally. I was anxious that it was trapped, possibly injured, and would die. But I couldn't get anyone to come and help. Wildlife carers are volunteers and the organisation doesn't insure them for climbing about in roof cavities to try and rescue creatures trapped in walls. One did come, but the Critter, as I eventually named it, was silent at the time.

'You'll soon know if it's a possum,' she said. 'They're nocturnal. It will make a noise at night.' She thought it was more likely a rat. It turned out not to be nocturnal, but active (now and then) both day and night. That was a relief! Possum safe.

The fire brigade referred met to the police; the police said they only rescue domestic pets. Various people suggested making a hole in the plaster on this side of the wall (the other side is brick). My landlord, the Housing Department, refused permission and assured me the creature would not smell after it died. (That was a concern, but mostly I was hoping to save a life.)

Over several days there were long silences interspersed with sound and movement. I could hear it crawling around on the beams in the wall. It evidently had claws; I could hear them. I discounted the possibility that it was a snake. I never heard gnawing or squeaking, so decided thankfully it couldn't be a rat.

My handyman has sold his ute. His ladder doesn't fit in his car. Eventually he was able to borrow a concertina ladder. He brought a thick rope to attach so the critter could climb up to safety. He went up into the manhole, and shone a powerful torch into thee wall cavity. He had a good look and he saw — nothing. Nothing at all. Not even any droppings or signs of claw marks, and certainly not a creature of any kind, let alone one as big as this one would have to be to make so much noise. So clearly whatever it is had found a way to get in and out, which could account for the long silences. Whew! It wasn't going to starve to death in there after all.

We walked around the outside of the house together to try and spot openings. (He is a tall man.) We couldn't see anything except the small spaces under the curves in the ends of the tiles at the roof edges. We decided it must be what I had already concluded: a large lizard. There are both water dragons and monitors around here. I have seen them in both my yard and my neighbours'.

The Critter, as I have named it, is still there, at least sometimes. Visiting friends have now heard it too, and think it doesn't sound like a rat or a possum. It doesn't seem to be doing any damage, and so we coexist. I still don't know for sure what it is, but lizard seems the only thing really likely.

'What is the lesson?' someone asked. I consulted the Medicine Cards and pulled Dragonfly. That made me laugh: it's the signal that Andrew and I arranged before he died, so I'd know when he was around. So it a was a message from Andrew? Sure that the Critter is a lizard, I pulled that card, which has a message to trust one's dreams. I had recently dreamed of Andrew visiting, and thought it was a true dream. (I have been told he is now my angel.) But I was occasionally tempted to doubt. OK, so it seemed the Critter was the Universe's way of telling me to trust the dream: that Andrew really did visit me that way.

Later I bethought myself that Dragonfly might be the nearest the Medicine Cards could get to Dragon, and that a lizard (if indeed it is a lizard) resembles a dragon. Perhaps the Universe also tells me to trust the truth of my dragon connection.

2. A new slant

A dear friend from Melbourne stayed with me a couple of days, in the course of which she did a reading for me. Among other things, she advised that Merlin would be coming to communicate with me again. (He used to, but it's been a while.) On the question of that dragon connection, she said, 'Think of the blood codes, not the form. Pendragon....'

I'll have to see how that plays out.

The Earth Angel

It was a sunny afternoon at The Channon market. Andrew and I had a regular stall at a couple of Sunday markets and were frequent casuals at others, including The Channon. It was a long drive, but a lovely big all-day market, worth making the trek now and then. This must have been 2004, or maybe 2005. He was between customers for his head massage and Reiki treatments; I was in the middle of a psychic reading.

For no obvious reason, I looked up and locked eyes a moment with a young woman strolling past. Then I resumed my reading and thought no more about it until we started packing up at the end of the day, when the same young woman approached me.

'I have a message for you,' she said. I knew at once she didn't mean from a human being. 

'Never let anyone tell you that you can't charge money for what you do,' she said. 'You have chosen this work; you didn't have to do it. You're entitled to your fee.' 

This was timely! Not long before, in another market, a different young woman had taken it upon herself to tell me loudly and publicly that I should not be turning something spiritual into a business. She informed me that the great seer Edgar Cayce had never charged for his work. Of course it was only after the event that I thought I could have enquired how he fed himself and paid his bills. Perhaps his family supported him; perhaps he was independently wealthy; perhaps he had a day job. None of those scenarios applied to me. But we seldom think of the perfect rejoinder during a surprise attack. I think I told her she was entitled to her opinion and left it at that. But it rankled. It was wonderful to get a message from 'Upstairs', approving of me.

'You're a human being,' said my messenger. 'Not like me. I'm an angel who's incarnated here; I have to be of service. I love it too, but I don't have a choice. You chose it. Honour yourself for that choice.' She told me, too, that she could see my connection to Source when I was reading: a very direct, clear, pure connection. (Other seers, before and since, have said the same.) Therefore, she reiterated, I should never be ashamed of what I do, never have any doubts. (I do sometimes have doubts — that's human — but thanks to her message I dismiss them and carry on.) I felt there was much more we had to say to each other, so I gave her my card and asked for her phone number.

As she left, she said over her shoulder to Andrew, 'You're an angel.'  He, packing up the stall, had been taking no notice of our conversation, so he assumed it was a figure of speech. When I explained afterwards that she had been talking about his soul origins, he was very interested. As soon as we got home, he phoned her for more detail. That was the beginning of our wonderful friendship with Letitia Lee, who adopted us as surrogate parents. 

She told us she was sometimes given messages from the angels for particular people — such as the one she gave me — and when this happened she had to deliver the message. Instead of being freaked out, people usually received them with gratitude. When Letitia herself wanted a reading, she took to phoning me because, having seen my connection to Source, she knew she would get a clear, true message. It got so that we would just ask each other for advice as necessary, no money changing hands or anything. (She, being in service, never charged for delivering her messages anyway.) It was rare that either of us needed such help, but it was good to have each other to turn to when we did, as completely trustworthy channels.

Andrew was tickled to learn he was an angel. To me it explained many things about him. Although he didn't think of himself in that way, he was quite psychic and often felt impelled to give people advice on their health or their lives — excellent advice, usually received gratefully. His particular focus was young people. (He had a youthful quality himself, always.) One of his great achievements was to bring Discovery, an accelerated learning program for teenagers, to Australia. Soon after he died, he visited his daughter and had a long talk in which he told her that he is working with young people now. She understood him to mean that he was helping dying children pass over. 

When we still lived near his daughter, she was once part of a spiritual development group that we were in too, where her energy showed up to many participants, including me, as being angelic. (Although she might scoff, I note that she's always been drawn to the healing professions and is now a nurse.) It seems there are quite a few angels around! 

Letitia's messages were detailed and accurate, and included things she could not possibly have known by herself. But eventually she stopped wanting to do that work. It was getting a bit full on, and she wanted her mind to herself. At that point, it seems, she was permitted the choice. Now she works energetically as a planetary healer instead, and I have no doubt she's good at that too. She can still tell me the soul origins of people close to me if I ask.

Such information cannot, of course, be checked. It won't be on their birth certificates: 'origin angelic', 'origin extraterrestrial', etc. But as she describes these individuals, many of whom she has never met, what she says fits perfectly.