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.