Forced Hiatus

Wow, it's been a long and frustrating hiatus for me. In the blink of an eye, I went from near constant communication with my guidance, including whispers, visions, clairvoyance, clairaudience, and astral travel to ... well, zip. Nada. Nothing at all. It all happened so completely and totally, as to make me wonder (again) if it had all been a figment of my writer's overactive imagination.

I think my ability to communicate with Dinahh and Micah any time I wanted to is what I missed the most. My partner, Robert, and friend, Alexis, have assured me that the universe works that way, at times, and not to get sad or disillusioned. It naturally ebbs and flows. We are given the chance to grow and to think about all we've learned and become aware of.

I must be too new at all of this yet -- I'm still not sure WHAT all I've learned. Robert says this isn't how most people learn about the universe and become aware. I didn't have the luxury of studying, learning and asking questions over a lifetime. I was suddenly dunked in all at once with a "Wow! What the hell did THAT mean?" reaction to everything. The truth is, I've been clueless as to what to do with what I've learned and this hiatus has been very upsetting to me.

During the past couple of nights, I've been having some rather strange dreams or visions in Dinahh's absence and he didn't come to explain them when I asked for clarification. One consisted of my whole area of vision behind my closed eyelids filling up with a glaring, searing white light, so brilliant that it hurt my eyes. Slowly, it became concentrated in smaller areas and the light framed four beautiful angels wearing silken white robes and floating there, looking toward me. This lasted a few minutes and then it all went away.

The other vision was just as vivid. The color was a brilliant purple and filled my whole field of vision again. Then, the purple became more condensed, and settled into a purple cord, a thick ribbon that zigged and zagged in and around a myriad of sparkling diamonds. This vision really puzzled me. What could deep purple and shimmering diamonds be saying to me?

Robert assured me that both visions were actually announcing the coming of something, something really good. He asked if I was going to write in my blog about them. At the time, I said I wasn't. Geez, what would I say?

Then a little while ago, I was relaxing on the couch, trying to find my silence, and Dinahh spoke to me. He said I would soon be very busy. There were important things coming and I was to share my two visions which explained this. Then just before he left, he told me ... yep, you guessed it ... "Be patient, Catherine."

Namaste.

HANAH: Another Experience

A few weeks ago, (August 29, 2010) I introduced the work of a very special friend, Hanah. She was kind enough to share how she first met her Spirit Guide, Star. I am proud to again feature Hanah as she writes about another very moving experience.

CJ has helped me ever so much by explaining a few things to me as our friendship grows. This has helped me become less frightened and more aware of the whispers around me. I now try to embrace any experiences that I have and also try to recall old ones that I once dismissed. CJ explained that sometimes the ability to hear the whispers or open your mind and heart has been passed down through the generations, just like her own mother and now, her daughters. The wonderful thing about modern women, we are willing to talk about these things and pass our knowledge onto others without the stigma of being labeled 'loco'.

My Aunt lived down in the hills and hollers of West Virginia -- nothing around for miles and miles. In 1940, she married and they moved onto the farm with her in-laws. My Uncle was born in the house, as was his father. My Aunt and Uncle lived there their entire lives and raised their children there.

As a young adult visiting their home, I began to have 'feelings' at night. When it’s dark back in the woods, it is blackout dark. During the night, as soon as I would walk out of the bedroom and head for the bathroom, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck would stand up. I would actually walk with my hands over my eyes and try to maneuver through the house by looking at the floor. I would turn out the bathroom light and run back the same way, through the kitchen, living room, and hallway. Believe me, unless I couldn’t wait, I did not go out of the bedroom at night.

I didn’t mention this to anyone else. I could imagine how much I would get teased for that. It wasn’t until years later that I learned I was not the only one. It was kind of a relief, knowing I wasn’t crazy, but also a little frightening to know those feelings were validated.

I learned a little information at a time and it was never enough. I understand now that my Aunt was not willing to share her experiences for some of the same reasons that I didn’t. Believe it or not, not everyone wants to hear about the spirits. (smile) I wish we would have been able to share more of these experiences before she passed away. Her children did not have this gift and would become quite upset if this subject arose. So we could not be open with all the family near.

My Aunt explained how she had seen spirits for years in the house. She not only saw them, but she could hear the voices as well. Most of them were the same ones year after year. And, to my surprise, she saw the spirits in those same rooms that frightened me -- glad I didn’t open my eyes!

She mentioned a few things that happened to her when she was younger and still living at home -- lots of those things that go bump in the night. Looking back, I think she may have been trying to tell me that my grandmother also had this same gift. But, I never got to know my grandmother. She passed away when I was only a year old, so some of the good stories have never been told to the younger generation.

Having had some complications after surgery, I spent several weeks in the hospital. When I returned home, I would wake up hearing laughter. It would start out in whispers but would continue until I was completely awake. I talked with my Aunt about this. She told me it was their [spirits] way of getting my attention. I knew one of them was my grandfather who had passed a few years before. There was no way to deny his boisterous laugh. And I like to think he was laughing to let me know he was happy, because I was recovering.

I also believe my Aunt knew her spirit guide, or maybe it could have been a guardian angel. A bright light woke her on the first visit. She was awakened by a lovely lady, standing in her bedroom. The spirit told her, “Don’t be afraid, I did not come to harm you”. Another visit came when my Uncle was having some health problems. The same lovely vision came to her one night and told her, “He is going to be ok”. And he was!

I wonder if she and my aunt had other conversations, like CJ and Dinahh? I would love to know. CJ has just taught us not to let the moment pass.

Hanah


Thank you, Hanah. Your experiences are always well-written and so welcomed. Namaste, my friend!
CJ

THE BIRDIES

by Lloyd Glenn

On July 22nd, I was in route to Washington DC for a business trip. It was all very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead locker, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Rep immediately.

I thought nothing more about it until I was ready to leave the plane and at the doorway, I heard a man asking every male if he were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was very wrong and my heart sank.

When I got off the plane, a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, "Mr.Glenn, there was an emergency at your home. I don't know what the emergency is, or who was involved, but I'll take you to a phone so you can call the hospital."

My heart was pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly, I followed the stranger to a phone where I dialed the number he gave me for Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son, Brian, had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door in my garage for several minutes and when my wife found him he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital.

By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they didn't know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness.

The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me for seeing my small son lying so still on the great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was also on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream. I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was OK -- two miracles in and of themselves. Only time would tell if his brain had received any damage.

Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt Brian would be all right and I hung onto her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed like forever since I left on my business trip the day before.

Finally, at two o'clock that afternoon, Brian regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard ... he said, "Daddy hold me," and he reached for me with his little arms.

By the next day, doctors told us he would have no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. When we took Brian home, we felt such a renewed reverence for life and love that only comes to those who brush death so closely.

In the days that followed, there was a special spirit about our home. Our two older children were closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were tighter as a family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused and balance was easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed and our gratitude was profound.

But our story is not over ... almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian woke up from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down Mommy. I have something to tell you." Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat with him on his bed, and he began his remarkable story.

"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was heavy and it hurt really bad. I called you but you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but that hurt too bad, and then the birdies came."

"The birdies?" my wife asked
.
"Yes," he answered. "The birdies made a whoosh sound and flew in the garage to take care of me."

"They did?"

"Yes," he said. "One of the birdies went to get you. She told you I got stuck under the door." A reverent feeling filled the room. The feeling was strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old had no concept of death or spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came from beyond as 'birdies' because they had come from up in the air like birds that fly.

"What did the birdies look like?" she asked.

Brian answered, "They were beautiful and dressed in white, all white. Some had green and white, but most had on just white."

"Did they say anything?"

"Yes," he answered. "They told me the baby would be all right."

"The baby?" my wife asked confused.

Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor." He went on, "You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told him to stay and not leave."

My wife nearly collapsed, for she had indeed knelt beside Brian's body and whispered, "Don't leave us, Brian, please stay if you can." As she listened to Brian telling her what she had said, she realized his spirit had left his body and it was looking down from above. "Then what happened?" she asked.

"We went on a trip," he said, "far, far away." He struggled with wanting to tell something very important to him, but finding the words was difficult for him. My wife told him it would be okay.

"We flew fast up in the air. They're so pretty Mommy, and there are lots and lots of birdies!" My wife was stunned. A sweet comforting spirit enveloped her soundly, but with an urgency she had never known. Brian went on to explain that the birdies told him he had to come back and tell everyone about the birdies. When they brought Brian back to the house, he saw the big fire truck and ambulance. He said a man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man the baby would be okay. The story went on for an hour ...

Brian taught us that 'birdies' are always with us, but we don't see them because we look with our eyes. We don't hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always here with us -- we can only see them and hear them here (he put his hand over his heart). "They whisper things to help us do what is right because they love us so much." Brian continued, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We all have to live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us do that 'cause they love us so much."

In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all or parts of it, again and again. Always the story was the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A few times he added other bits of information he had remembered or clarified something he had already told us. It never ceased to amaze us how he could share these details and speak way beyond his ability when he talked about the birdies.

Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the birdies. Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and smiled. Needless to say, we've never been the same since that day ... and I pray we never will be.


My thanks to Lloyd Glenn and his family for sharing their story.
Always,
CJ - Namaste!