Saturday, May 19, 2012

What My Fist-Pumping Angel Pals Say Today

So I did this processing thing with my bud Fay again where she gets you to clear out old emotional stuff that might not be useful any more to make yourself nice and open to receive messages from your guides.

Everyone - Carlos, my 17-year old, Carla, Fay - receives spirit guide messages but me. I feel like the girl who didn't get asked to prom, like the last person to be picked for the basketball scrimmage. When's it my turn? So, right, this clearing thing with Fay. That will open me up and let my guides start telling me things like where to find the bundles of gold hidden on our property.

Up in Colonia Independencia, I'm sitting on a chair across from Fay. We are both in meditation positions and she says, "Oh, Michael and Rafael are here."
I thought, "Hey, guys."
Fay said, "Michael is Protection and Rafael is Healing."
Me: in my head, "Cool."
Fay: "Ah, the Divine Mother is here."
Me: "Girl power. Yeah."

The week before I had really felt presence of the Divine Mother, and needed it. Who, after all, nurtures moms? But this week, I was all about the men. Michael and Rafael. I felt a big white Michael wing behind my back. I felt sheets of sparkly emerald green healing from Rafa. Soothing me from distress over conflicts with Carla.

"Wow," Fay said, "It's standing room only here. There are a lot of angels here. Do you feel all the support?"

I did. I felt comforted, then energized. "I get it," I said. "To be supported, all I have to do is ask."
"That's it!" Fay said. "That's what they want you to know!"
I could see green and gold around me. I felt it.
"Michael is very pleased that you understand. He is patting himself on the back, winking at Rafael, like, Job well done."
"High-fiving and fist-pumping?"
"You could say that."

Later, I walked into town and ran into a gal I knew named Kerry.
"I need baskets!" Kerry fretted. "I've searched the artisan's market. Cruised the streets looking for those people who walk around selling baskets."
"Did you try the basket shop?" I asked.
"There's a basket shop?"
"Over on that street that runs into the Oratorio. Across from the shop that sells blankets and school uniforms."
"Oh!" Kerry exclaimed, shifting toward town. She hurried off in the direction I'd indicated. Over her shoulder, she called, "You're an angel."

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