A View from the Other Side

Observations from the winged dude next door.

Archive for the tag “hidden angels”

Another Return

angel phoenixAnother person came and talked to me this past week, one that I hadn’t heard from in a long time. I’d figured that she was busy, because she’s a really busy person in general, but that wasn’t it. The reasons she hadn’t been speaking to me were far more important.

She holds inside her a piece of something amazing. A bit of an archangel. I know who, but I don’t know how much is there, and it’s not for me to question or examine the exact percentages, and it doesn’t matter anyway. But the main reason she hadn’t been able to talk to me is that something in my catalyst nature triggers things in her that quickly get overwhelming. She described it as suddenly having this whirlwind of images flying through her mind, and the ground drops out from under her.

Knowing this, I was able to pull myself back and only  have a little of myself coming through my avatar so that I could still speak through her typed words, but it was a lot more of a “channeling” experience than normal, with her listening and repeating what I was saying rather than our normal flow together. It worked well, and this returning person and I were able to talk for a little while before she had to break contact again. During that time, she told me about a dream she’d had. In this dream, I caused a burst of energy that ripped through several worlds or dimensions.

The thing is, it wasn’t just a dream. That release happened.

Her telling me this put a huge piece into my puzzle, a giant light bulb over my head. I get it now. That’s what it was all for, going through all that hell. To create a bridge between your world, and our world, and the multiverse in the immediate neighborhood.

Catalyst. Boom. Changing not just my world, or your world, but all the worlds close enough nearby to feel those ripples and get hooked together through it.

Also, I’m triggering major stuff in an archangel. Holy shit, no pun intended. You know I’m going to be working on examining that.


One Act of Kindness

don't sweat the small stuffFrom the Kate Taney on the Huffington Post:

“…And, I lost it. I broke into big, fat, silent, hopeless tears. There was no sound, just pain enveloping my face and dense petals of teardrops sopping onto the man’s lap sitting in front of me. He was dressed in blue from head to toe; a heavy beat blasting through his earphones. I saw him shift a bit and look up towards me. His big brown eyes looked concerned, as if he was beginning to feel what I was feeling; as if it hurt him to see me this way. I wiped my cheek with my shoulder and tried to hold my breath to keep from feeling anything, but despite my best efforts, I was crumbling into myself like a little girl told to stop crying.

“I saw him move about to get something out of his pocket: a big wad of brown paper napkins. Peeling one out, he handed it to me and nodded his head to go on and take it. Of course, his action, with all its simple thoughtfulness was so beautiful it only made me weep more. “How kind,” I thought. “Where has he been tonight? Where is he going? I wonder what his struggles are like…” He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a pen. When he was done writing, he stood up and gestured to his seat for me to sit, holding out the wad of napkins. I was hesitant to take it at first, but with no words he insisted I accept them. So, I did. He smiled reassuringly, turned his back and walked through the sliding doors.

“Some people believe in angels or guardians or signs from things or people outside of ourselves to awaken something dormant within us, to remind us of something, to lead us somewhere, or to someone. Perhaps, he was an angel… or maybe, he was just a NYC stranger who can still allow himself to feel and be felt. All I know is, I will keep this note with me forever, I will pass it along throughout my life and I will look at his words to remind me that everything will be OK, that doubts and fears are normal but are not useful, that compassion is king and that empathy, and random acts of kindness still exist.”

We Are Everywhere

Secret identity

Where are the heroes? Song lyrics and comic books and TV shows and movies ask this question all the time.

Oh, we’re here. We just know better than to announce it to the universe. That never ends well.

We walk among you. That guy at the bus stop. That woman walking her dog in the park. Those people having coffee off to one side. Watching. Waiting. There when we’re needed most. You hear about us in the news sometimes. “Miracles” at the scene of a disaster.

Some of us do a lot of work outside the physical that doesn’t make it into the news, because nobody sees it. Nudging fate, waking people up, flipping the switch to the on position behind the scenes. You see the results, but rarely the actions that got things there. But those actions are happening all day, every day, and more and more people are waking up to the fact that they can do this too. They can be heroes. They can change the future through their actions. They can run energy from the Source in ways they never knew about, ways they never could before. Things are changing fast.

Maybe you’re one of them. One of us. Working behind the scenes. Waiting for the next opportunity to be a hero. Maybe that’s where you’re headed next. Are you ready?

The Stars Look Different From Here

cosmos angelThere are places that you, yes you reading this right now, cannot follow me into. There are experiences that you cannot share or even understand fully. There are things that I am not allowed to discuss. It’s simply the way things are.

There are beings whose job it is to be guardians and watch over people, animals, situations, nations, whatever they’re guarding. That’s their function, that’s what they do. Others are the same type of being, but they have other jobs. Maybe they’re researchers or warriors or they do outreach with humans, or have any number of other tasks that they’ve been set forth to do, a lot of them totally unknown to humanity at large.

We all have our purpose. We’re all different. We all have different personalities and tasks and methods of doing our jobs. None of them are wrong, any more than lions are better than tigers. Some of us are loud or quiet, quick-tempered or eternally patient, white or black, warriors or healers or psychopomps or those who lead the way. You do what you do best, and let us do what we do best.

Hidden in Plain Sight

Hebrews 13:2Would you know me if you saw me?

I don’t look like myself when I’m out in public. You may have even said hello, or passed me on the street, and never known. I might have been that helpful person who picked you up off the sidewalk when you were too drunk to stand, and then driven you home that night. I might have been the one who gave you directions when you were lost, or the stranger you felt compelled to trust with that five dollars that needed to get delivered so urgently that afternoon. Maybe I was the one who asked if you were all right when your car was out of gas and stranded in the middle of the road. Or the person who took you to a safe place and a working phone when your car died completely along a lonely stretch of highway near midnight.

Maybe I’m that person you see walking along the road or on a hiking trail with a purpose and an iPod, deep in thought, or even just enjoying the physical sensations of a living human body for a half hour. Nudging probabilities and blessing cars. Helping people as they need it, since they seem drawn to seek my help in particular as I walk along.

Maybe I’m that person in line at the coffee place, getting an earl gray latte and asking about the vegetarian choices in sandwiches. Or sitting in the row behind you in the movie theater. Or just sitting quietly in the corner, peoplewatching.

I’ve done all these things and more. And nobody ever knew it.

I’m not saying this to brag. I’m saying this to open your eyes. Maybe, if people really understood that we’re out in public and hidden in plain sight, people would be kinder to each other. Maybe that difficult or stranded or homeless person you encounter is a test of your own grace. It’s unfortunate that a lot of people need a carrot/stick like that. But maybe that’s part of the lesson.

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