I wanted to talk to somebody whom I had cut ties. Maybe it was due to the idea that I cut ties with another person recently, and out of loneliness, have decided to revert back to the other friendship. But just as I saw the instant messaging window ready to be typed into, I glanced at my cell phone to receive your message: 3:21PM. Would it really be going against my intended direction? Okay, I won’t talk to them just yet. I’ll let my feelings subside like you tell me to.
Now what?
Much to my dismay, I could not be strong as my angels had advised. I think, rather, that they were simply warning me if I had not been the one to stand strong. But now, my angels, I’m onto attempting your newest feedback.
Letting Go; Holding On Part 2
I am in Tsitsikamma Beach of South Africa, leaning against a big rock whose rough ridges provide minimal comfort though they prove helpful in stabilizing my stance against the Indian Ocean. My right bare foot is propped against the rock, my leg akimbo, and my arms are to my side. I am wearing black cargo capri pants, and a simple white tank top that loosely lays atop my skin. I stare off in the overcast sky, feeling emotionally exhausted. Everything appears grey scale, and the waves never stop crashing.
On both sides stands Rebecca and Raphael, standing in the exact same posture. Raphael’s big wings are spread out against the rock, and the back of my head rests comfortably on his feathers. Rebecca’s wings are only slightly open, and appear much smaller in contrast with Raphael’s.
This time, Rebecca started the conversation, “How do you feel?” With her asking like that, it sounded like she was my very own personal shrink. And just then, I pictured her turning to me with a notepad and thick-rimmed glasses.
I purse my lips to one side, “Like crap.”
I could go on about how much I was frustrated, or how hurt I was, or how torn I was by all of the circumstances; but instead, I sufficed to say, “Like crap” and let all of those emotions express themselves in the quiver of my voice just before they went streaming down my cheeks.
“Do you realize you’ve just overcome one of the major episodes in your life?” She asked in a neutral tone. They could tell how upset I was, but for some reason it never degrades the serene quality in their tone.
“I know this will pass, but overcoming it is a big word,” I reasoned more to myself than to her. Her warm hand took mine, her warmth and positive energy was transferred into my body.
“It’s okay,” she said apologetically, “Life does not serve everything in kindness, but what you receive is the lesson learned from the actions of the past.” She squeezed my hand gently, “This will contribute to your wellbeing positively in the long run, even if it hurts you deep inside this moment.”
Just then, Raphael, in all his silence, leaned his head over mine, his thick arm wrapped around my shoulders. “We know you identify this as a sacrifice,” he tilted his head so that he spoke directly to me, “and through this you will grow wiser and more mature,” Raphael said.
I let out a smile, although my lips remained pursed. It felt like their words were coming at a wall.
“Feel sorrow for your loss tonight, we will protect you in your sleep,” said Rebecca.
Raphael added, “But know that a great treasure for both parties will be unearthed and tower over your initial concerns!”
Afterward, they both stood in front of me with the kindest smiles – Rebecca’s hand still in mine, and Raphael’s arm still on my shoulder. I looked up slightly to appreciate their gesture, and they both pulled me into a group hug as soon as I made eye contact. They laughed, and I laughed.
A small wave had hit the rock just then, calling for our attention. We set out to walk in the white water, their wings just barely above water level.
In the end, their final message to me before they took off was, “Be the strong one. Do not let this burden spread to others. Work to purify this by yourself, so you can begin new beginnings.”
I will try to do just that, my angels.
some kind of insight
Strong and sweet shall their tongues be, poems and materials of poems shall come from their lives, they shall be makers and finders…divine conveyers, to convey gospels…Death, the future, the invisible faith, shall all be convey’d.
- Walt Whitman
Pick one.
Triangle or rectangle.
Oval or star.
Straight line or squiggly line.
Trapezoid or octagon.
Club or spades.
Arch. Plus-sign. Checkmark.
Pick a number from 10-20.
Pick a number from 130-150.
Pick a number from 1-10.
It was a really profound moment, correctly guessing all of these random choices my dear friend would make. All the while I was receiving distinct messages that were not of my own thoughts. It was also somewhat disturbing as I’ve never before done that. Granted, he is my best friend – tried and true – and perhaps it was the best practice.
At the same time, I am getting frequent visions at night that I had previously asked someone in the reiki department. The man said all of this is the awakening of great activity; great leaps to growth and improvement.
