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With this glorious summer weather of blue skies and hot temperatures, my grandchildren and I headed over to Granville Island Wednesday morning. After playing at the water park for a couple of hours, we ventured over to the Magic Shop in the Kids Only Market - a place my granddaughter had been keen to revisit, due to her fascination with the tricks she had been shown there last fall.
After much deliberation, the kids finally decided on which tricks to purchase - he, a squishy gel egg and she, a magic dragon box. We then returned to my place for a low key, lazy afternoon. After refueling with some snacks and cold drinks in the shade out back, my grandson and I lay down on the picnic blanket, gazing into the sky, while my granddaughter sat beside us perfecting her new magic trick. My grandson wanted to look for animals and other objects in cloud formations, but since we had a clear blue sky, we observed various birds in our surroundings instead - an eagle soaring high above us, a hummingbird zooming in to the feeder, blue jays and a woodpecker coming by to perch on our water feature for a drink, chickadees flitting from branch to branch behind us, and crows perching on the fence nearby. At one point during this magnificent bird show, I suggested we invite some clouds to present themselves in the sky so that we could play the game, so we did.
Two rounds of Go Fish and a couple of Story Cubes storytelling sessions later, I happened to glance up and realized that at least half the sky was covered in clouds! No clouds had been forecast at all for the entire day, nor for the days on either side. I pointed them out to the kids and the three of us shared in the marvel that had occurred. An hour or so later, after dropping the kids off at their home, where they had eagerly showed their parents the newly acquired magic skills, I returned to my backyard and realized that the sky was completely clear again - not a single cloud in sight. I just shook my head and smiled at the heavens, heart bursting with gratitude for another beautiful, magically infused day.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com
To anyone who may find the following story hard to believe, I understand. The experience happened to me, and I can scarcely believe it myself.
Late this morning, in the glorious sunshine, I wandered into the backyard and settled into the lounge chair. Feeling fatigued, due to a persistent cough and cold, I had listened to my body and decided to spend some time relaxing rather than attempting yard work. Observing the clouds, listening to the birds, and getting lost in the beauty of the garden, my mind wandered. I was looking forward to seeing my daughters and grandchildren later today to celebrate Mother's Day together, but that did not take away from desperately missing my son Michael. And so, of course, I asked. Would he please let me know that he was near, to show me that he could see how much my heart ached for his presence. Then, I just sat in that space, where spirit meets spirit.
A short time later, my husband arrived home and came over to sit with me. After both acknowledging the added challenges of this day, we got up and began walking towards the house together when I spotted something shiny lying on the grass. As I got closer, I saw that it was a round, silver object, and bending down to pick it up, I thought perhaps it might be a foil seal from a small bottle. However, when I turned it over, I froze. In my hand lay a clip-on metal badge, the size of a quarter, with the initial M on a soft pink background! Reaching my hand out to show my husband what I had found, I tried to explain what I had asked for just minutes before he got home, but I could not. Seeing this had literally taken my breath away. Tears of gratitude rolled down my cheeks, instead. I had never seen anything like this before. When I was finally able to speak, I filled him in. I told him that feathers, pennies and hummingbirds had all crossed my mind as possible signs, but I could never have imagined anything like this. And the fact that we had both walked over this exact spot many times yesterday, was not lost on us. It is only steps away from the house and we are certain that we would have noticed it - one hundred percent.
As I turned to go into the house, my husband got out the push mower to cut the grass. Watching him, I realized that had I not found this gift when I did, he would likely have mowed right over it, then picked up this piece of "rubbish" and tossed it. I also recognized the perfection of him being here when I found it, allowing us to share this special experience.
Looking over at this gift now lying on the table beside me, I can scarcely believe my eyes. But clearly, the magic that happens when one connects with the invisible knows no limits. Believe it!
www.diaryofanintuitive.com
Update: May 11/15 1:30pm
This morning I read the comment Gena posted on my personal FB page and it got me thinking. A MET badge? I had been to that museum seven years ago when she and I, along with my daughters, spent a week in New York, but I have no recollection of seeing this badge there. Not that this is surprising ... I often forget details like this, which is why I write things down, whereas Gena forgets nothing. After some online sleuthing I found out that indeed, up until 2013, rather than using paper entrance tickets, these badges were given out instead. And then it hit me. Early Saturday evening, I had taken a box filled with travel gear and guide books out into the backyard to sort through. I can only assume that the badge had somehow ended up in that box all those years ago. I did not see it when I was going through the items Saturday evening but it does explain how it likely ended up on the lawn. Now, where does that leave me with regards to this post? I know that signs from the invisible help support me on my journey. So many signs over the years have lifted my spirits, including hearts, hummingbirds, feathers, pennies, initials, and more. This sign was no less powerful ... finding this item with the initial M on a pink background on Mother’s Day was incredibly wonderful. None of that has changed. What has changed is that my logical side is able to relax now that I understand how it probably got there. And what about the magic? Well, I also still believe that magic happens ... the magic of that badge dropping out of that box in that spot only to be discovered by me on Mother’s Day ... magic to the nth degree.
Last night, I had the pleasure of attending an uplifting crystal bowl group mediation. It took place, after hours, inside a shop carrying gifts, accessories, clothing and more, items designed to add joy and serenity to people's lives. I had stopped in once when it first opened late last spring, but had not been there since. After we dozen or so participants settled ourselves in a circle, the facilitator opened the session with a prayer from George Harrison, then explained that the vibrations we would hear while he played the bowl would address the throat chakra, associated with communication and the colour blue. With eyes closed, we relaxed into ourselves as he continually moved his mallet around the rim. He played the huge, crystal bowl for thirty to forty minutes, then let the sound fade away. After opening my eyes and allowing myself to fully return to my body, I looked across the room, and that is when I saw it. My book displayed upright with full cover view, on a shelf behind the facilitator. I was unaware that this particular shop carried Diary of an Intuitive. More to the point, I had not noticed the book while passing back and forth in front of it numerous times while arranging chairs for the group, nor had I noticed it during the circle introduction. While I was processing the magic of this moment, the facilitator invited us to share any experiences we had had with regards to the meditation and he answered individual's questions. He told a joke involving Sitting Bull, reminding us of the importance of humour, spoke about love being the ongoing connection between life and death, and referred to signs by which people often identify the presence of a loved one who has passed. After a few minutes of reflection, I began telling the group about what had just occurred to me. Most of them were unable to see the book from where they were sitting, so I described it to them: a heart containing the words love and gratitude positioned on the blue cover of a book communicating experiences about life and death, and some of the in between. Almost as an afterthought, I began explaining the story behind the two feathers positioned beside the heart. No sooner had I spoken the words "two feathers", when the facilitator's wife, who had been writing notes, lifted her head, and with a nod towards her husband, told me, "That's his name". Seeing the confusion on my face, her husband, who had introduced himself to us using his French name, explained that he had some native ancestry consisting of two warring tribes, thus the name Two Feathers. Oh my. So many overlapping themes: blue, communication, love, death, feathers. Never a dull moment on this spiritual journey. It's not a stretch to imagine that Michael's spirit guide Geronimo was infused into this magical evening, as well.
Last Monday morning, I stopped in at a local shop with my granddaughter. A beautiful space, filled to the brim with seasonal decor, I pop in a few times a year to say hello and see what's new. However, this time it ended up being much more than a casual visit, and one that almost didn't happen.
I had thought I was scheduled to babysit for a few hours that day, but had my dates mixed up so wasn't really needed. When my daughter asked if I wanted to take my granddaughter out regardless, I decided to do just that. Since it was the 7th of the month, I would be going to Boal Memorial, and I knew that taking her with me would make the stop much lighter and sweeter.
So now here we were, in this quaint shop, looking for an Easter ornament for her to adorn the space dedicated to Uncle Mike and Kelly. The two of us were admiring all the tiny figurines and making our way to the back room, when the shopkeeper appeared from around the corner. She stopped, placed her hand on my arm and whispered, "What an amazing coincidence, I can't believe you're here. Of all people." She went on to tell me that the young woman at the till (the only other customer in the store) had recently lost a son and was here purchasing items for the child's memorial service. When I asked if I could speak to her, we were introduced, and this young mother, her five-year-old son at her side, explained that her three-year-old with leukemia had died at Canuck Place Children's Hospice. After a big hug, we spoke a little about her situation, touched on the glass hearts she was buying and our family's affiliation with that hospice. Then, as I turned to leave, she mentioned that she doesn't even live in this area and had no idea why she had chosen this place. The shopkeeper and I exchanged meaningful glances - we both knew this is was no accident.
There have been countless occasions of just such "coincidences" in this shop, including the circumstances around the tiny bird figurine that was gifted to our family a few days after Michael's death. Clearly, angels work here, weaving their magic, offering love and support in the most magnificent ways.
With my granddaughter happily seated in her stroller, the two of us headed out to explore the neighbourhood yesterday morning. We shared a muffin at a café, stopped at the library, chatted with shopkeepers, and played at the park. We then returned to my home for lunch, after which, it was time for her nap. I knew she was tired but instead of resting, she cried in bed for quite some time. I finally went in, picked her up, and took her into my living room so that we could quietly cuddle together. We settled into an easy chair and observed the backyard scene of birds and squirrels going about their day. Within minutes, she was sound asleep.
She would need at least half an hour, if not longer, to refresh herself for the second half of her day so I decided I would remain seated for as long as she needed, holding her comfortably on my lap. Since there were no distractions within reach, I embraced the opportunity to just be. Taking in the perfection of this little being, breathing in her essence, feeling our hearts beat together, I was well aware of how precious this time was. The sun streaming through the glass wall behind us served to heighten the experience, warming us both, and casting a glow on her fine, blond curls.
While marvelling at the beauty surrounding me, I noticed a bright, colourful spot on the end of one of her strands of hair. I gently ran my fingers along it, thinking perhaps I would find a loose thread or a fleck of who knew what. After repeated attempts to remove it, the spot remained. Perplexed, I picked up my reading glasses and found myself staring at a magnificent image rivalling the splendour of stained glass windows found in grand cathedrals. Right at the tip of this strand of hair was a round, highly detailed, miniature work of art - as if an angel, using the finest tools, had drawn intricate lines of design within design, then filled in the spaces with jewel tones. There were tiny circles, triangles, and squares, overlapping in places, embellished with various designs and patterns. The vision before me defied explanation but nevertheless, there it was. I did not need to know how or why in order to treasure the magic of this moment. Forty minutes later my granddaughter awoke with a smile on her face - she had had a much needed nap, and I had been blessed with another exquisite experience.
