KAJAMA.COM NEWSLETTER

by Judith Marshall

(Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal.)

It is a truth universally acknowledged (thank you, Jane Austen) that children and animals sense things we rational adults cannot. They're more attuned to the spirit world from which they've just come than they are to the material world they've entered. Animals remain "tuned in" throughout their lives. Unhindered by the pressures of conforming to a linear, logical approach to life, they follow instinct and flow to the natural rhythms of the universe. Children, on the other hand, are often silenced and told their impressions are wrong or abnormal. As a result, their natural curiosity and innate gifts are uprooted before they can blossom. Yet, for those few precious years before children fully adapt to the physical world and "adult" perceptions, they receive pure, unedited impressions of the energy around them.

Secondhand teachings can't compete with firsthand experience. For better or worse and despite all odds, I've managed to keep much of my childhood trust and enthusiasm intact.

From an early age, I sensed the presence of angels and spirits, including my totem animal, and my first stories, written at age three, all had a heroine named Kirsten. My mother had never heard that name, which is Scandinavian in origin.

"You mean Kristin, right?" she asked on several occasions.

My reply was emphatic and always the same. "No, Mommy. It's Kirsten."

This name resurfaced again and again and followed me into adulthood. I was thiry-two before I realized that Kirsten was one of my spirit guides.

Now, at age forty-four, I have eight-year-old identical twin boys, Connor and Geoffrey. My adventures in rearing them have reaffirmed my belief in two key points: (1) the universe runs on unconditional love; and (2) we can tap into its magic by creating an environment where that love can flourish.

An open mind and heart is a great place to start. It cultivates trust.

One of the main messages the angels wanted me to share with readers in My Conversations with Angels: Inspirational Moments with Guardian Spirits was to TRUST. Trust your gut. Trust the angels and other benevolent spirits that surround you. Trust the universe to provide everything you need for your challenging and unique journey. Trust in your unbreakable connection to the Divine.

I know trust can be hard to come by, especially when the media bombards us with images of horror and despair at every turn. Add to that our personal fears and disappointments, and it's a wonder we can trust at all. But we're built of stronger stuff; love and light prevail.

My angels, guardians, and guides have stressed time and again that my childlike trust allowed them to work miracles, both minor and major. The following account includes several of the former variety.

I studied at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland during my junior year of college and at Oxford in the summer immediately afterward. In between, I had sixteen days to fill, so I booked a two-week trip to Romania. I hadn't a clue what to do for the remaining two days—besides head south to England—but I trusted some opportunity would present itself.

In that summer of 1989, Romania was still behind the Iron Curtain, so my parents were less than thrilled when I phoned them to announce my impending trip. Still, it promised adventure, and ever since viewing Dracula as a girl, I'd wanted to wander through one of Vlad's castles. I simply knew I had to go, and I trusted I'd be okay.

I spent the first week in Mamaia, where I met four friendly Romanians who taught me a smidgen of the language. By week's end, I was packed and waiting in the hotel lobby for a tour bus to Bucharest—which never came.

The resident travel agent who'd booked my passage was livid. Apparently, the bus driver had forgotten to pick me up and was already an hour down the road. She grabbed my hand, hailed a taxi, and rode with me to the train station, where minutes later, she slapped a ticket into my hand.

"Here," she said in a thick accent. "Don't worry. My company will pay for this. You take the train to Bucharest and find a taxi in the station to take you to your hotel."

She handed me a piece of paper upon which she'd scribbled the hotel's name and shoved me onto a train, which stirred to life not thirty seconds later. She tried to appear casual as she waved good-bye, but her wide eyes and creased brow betrayed her worry.

What have I gotten myself into? I wondered. At the Bucharest train station, I found out.

From the moment I stepped off the train, a steady stream of strangers came at me. Their goals were identical, for they uttered the same two words: "Change money?"

My long, blond hair and big, red coat must’ve given me away. Either that or Gabriel's trumpet had announced tidings of a "western" tourist. My new Romanian friends had warned me against exchanging money on the black market. Thank God they'd also taught me some Romanian, because I used it to decline the countless offers and seek a cab.

For half an hour, toting my two-ton duffle bag, I searched the station for some means of transportation other than the train. Inside and out, I hunted for a taxi. There were none to be had. Don't ask me why. People tried to explain it to me in Romanian, but that flew over my head like a crowd of kites without string. At long last, a young woman with dark, wavy hair approached me.

"Come," she said. "I get you taxi."

The heavens opened. I wouldn't have been surprised if a chorus of angels rang out, for she promised the holy grail. I was only too happy to follow her down the block and across the street to my waiting chariot.

Correction: a sputtering jalopy.

"My brother," she said, motioning toward the young man behind the wheel. "He take you where you need to go."

She leveled at him a torrent of Romanian, and he turned his attention to me. He reached a hand to scratch his stubbly jaw and almost smiled. In the end, he simply stared.

I searched his black eyes for some sign of his integrity. All of a sudden, I received a nudge.

Go with him, an inner voice said. You'll be all right.

I took a deep breath and clambered into the car. With speed that seemed impossible for so battered a vehicle, the makeshift cab brought me safely to my hotel.

At dinner, I met the English tour group with whom I was meant to travel to Bucharest. They'd learned of my misfortune on the bus ride up and were eager to take me under their wings. Although I'd missed the tour of the city, the next day's journey would bring us to Poiana Bra?ov. There, we'd spend the next six days exploring the Transylvanian Alps, where the legend of Dracula lived on.

Sweeter companions I’ve never known. The retired couples seemed to jockey for my company at mealtimes, and they insisted I be transferred from the hotel I'd originally booked to theirs. One duo resided in Peterborough, a cathedral city that was right on my intended route from Aberdeen to Oxford. It was their hospitality I enjoyed for the two days prior to the start of the summer term.

Every step of the way seemed paved with minor miracles: the natives who taught me enough Romanian to fend for myself in Bucharest; the travel agent who put me onto the train; the kind stranger and her brother who got me to my hotel and the inner voice (i.e., angelic reassurance) that encouraged me to trust them; the retirees who watched over me; and the couple who invited me to stay with them in England. I received just what I needed at the exact moment it was necessary.

This phenomenon isn't unique to me. Trust opens doors. Give the universe an inch, and it'll support you for miles. Better yet, for eternity.

Now, on to a couple of major miracles! After my twins' premature birth, I spent every day in the neo-natal intensive care unit (NICU). I told the amazing staff—more times than was seemly—that I wanted Connor and Geoffrey to leave the hospital on the same day. Everyone had the same response: "That almost never happens."

During the boys' sixth week in the NICU, the nurses appeared to be right. Geoffrey was progressing faster than his brother, and it looked like he'd be ready to leave in a day or two.

My stomach churned. I'd seen and felt the intense bond they shared. When one was taken from their double crib, the other immediately reached out to the empty space. Once, when Connor's oxygen level dipped, Geoffrey touched his arm, and the readings shot up again. With such an attachment, I wondered how Connor would cope with being left behind. Worse yet, I was afraid he'd think I abandoned him. I prayed for a solution and told myself that everything would work out somehow.

The day before Geoffrey's proposed discharge, my husband Dan and I visited the NICU together. Since the boys had to master drinking from a bottle before their release, Dan took a stab at feeding Geoffrey. A staff member wasn't always in the room during visits, but this time a nurse stood by and asked Dan about his job.

Free from all monitors, Geoffrey drained the bottle. Then Dan began to burp him, all the while chatting with the nurse.

For some reason, I glanced at Geoffrey. Then I got the strangest impression. He's not in his body, I thought. He's floated off somewhere. "Dan," I said, interrupting the conversation. "Geoffrey's not there."

Dan and the nurse turned to me.

"Something's wrong," I said. "He's not there."

They looked at Geoffrey, who by then was turning blue. The nurse scooped him up, laid him on the crib, and worked on him until he started breathing again. Then, with a sigh of relief, she regarded us.

"He's going back on the monitors," she said, "and after a stunt like that, he's not going anywhere for at least five days."

Five days more, by which time Connor was ready to leave. My prayers were answered. The boys left the hospital together.

I firmly believe that angels had a hand in those events. They nudged me to look Geoffrey’s way at the critical moment, and they inspired the nurse to be in the room when she was needed most. Perhaps they encouraged Geoffrey to pull his stunt in the first place; after all, the incident ended up answering my prayers. And if I know Geoffrey, he relished his starring role in the drama!

Like many children, the boys displayed psychic awareness from the get-go. Often, as I changed their diapers, they gazed at a point above my left shoulder. They smiled and laughed as though viewing comedy of the highest order. I knew in my bones they spied either an angel or one of the spirit guides I sensed at my side.

Their gleeful interaction with the unseen wasn't limited to the changing table. It became an everyday occurrence, whether they were in the car, their cribs, or their large, hexagonal play yard. Even though I didn't see what they saw, the energy felt positive, so I trusted the invisible beings to help me protect and care for my children.

Connor and Geoffrey were still in diapers when we moved into our current home, a new construction at the time. We spent the bulk of our days in the living room, where Dan had set up their play yard. Directly above it was a huge, heavy ceiling fan. The boys were well acquainted with such fans; every place they'd lived had at least two.

During the first three weeks, they stared up at that fan with unusual frequency, sometimes independently, sometimes as one. Whether on or off, it continually drew their attention. They giggled. They laughed. They beamed up at it, countless times in countless ways for twenty-one days straight.

Morning dawned on the twenty-second day. It was 6:00 A.M. on a Sunday, and we were still abed when...

THWUNK!!!

Dan and I jumped up and ran to the boys' bedroom. They slept soundly in their cribs.

Our security alarm hadn't made a peep, so an intruder was unlikely. Nevertheless, we hustled down the stairs to the living room. We gasped. The ceiling fan had crashed to the ground with such force that two of the blades had broken in half. It was beyond repair.

First thing the next morning, two electricians and the builder's representative investigated the scene, and their conclusions were chilling. The screws securing the fan to the ceiling hadn't been anchored in the ceiling joist at all. They'd been driven into a gap between the joist and a narrow strip of plywood. Only the tiniest indentations on the side edge of that plywood proved the screws had ever touched it.

The fan hadn't been mounted to anything solid. In effect, it had been fastened to empty space. The pasty white faces of every man present said it all; none of them could fathom how the fan stayed up for a single day, let alone three weeks.

The builder paid for a replacement fan and installed it the following day. Even though it was an exact duplicate of the previous version, the boys ignored it, from that day to this.

The copy didn't command their attention. Why should it? Those who held up the original had moved on. They'd completed their mission, allowing the hefty fan to fall only when we were tucked safely in our beds. Again, I trusted angels to keep us safe, and they definitely came through.

Trust expands our awareness. It allows our angels, guardians, and guides to help and communicate with us on a regular basis. In fact, connecting with them is a natural ability, one you can learn about in My Conversations with Angels. You'll develop a more experiential relationship with angels and other spirits, which will ultimately help you reclaim the childlike trust and sense of magic that—believe it or not—are still a part of you.

Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal. Copyright Llewellyn Worldwide, 2012. All rights reserved.

I recently broke up with my boyfriend of nearly eight years because I feel that our relationship is at a standstill and he's afraid of commitment. He says he loves me but he can't commit to marriage because he doubts my priorities. He has a lot of issues in his own family and career to resolve too, but I feel it's unfair to keep me waiting forever. I knew this person was my soul mate from the start. We were friends for seven years before we started dating, so I've known him 15 years now. We still love each other but I couldn't accept his doubts. A psychic told me we were husband and wife in our last lives, and I left him and am now karmically paying for it. She said to give him a second chance because in the end, we can resolve this issue in this lifetime. I am willing to give him a second chance, but I'm wondering how long I need to wait for him to decide it's me he wants. I feel I've waited long enough and I want to move on, but a bigger part of me wants to wait for this man. Now that I know I hurt him deeply in a past life, how can I resolve that karma and win his trust again?

Doris

Astrea:

Karma from past lives can haunt us, but once we know what we did in a past incarnation that is causing us pain, we can repudiate it and choose not to repeat it again. While I don't doubt that you were together in another life, I don't believe you're now being punished for what you did then. Instead of blaming a past life, we must look to the choices we are making today.

The decisions that produce undesirable outcomes now weren't made in past lives; they were made in our present incarnation. I was taught that some of our karmic healing takes place in the time between incarnations so that we don't arrive with exactly the same problems and issues we've faced before.

If you left him in a past life, have you learned not to hurt him or leave him in this one? You can't change your past; you can only grow from it and change your karma for the future.

Now that you've been made aware of some past life issues and problems, you can choose to make better choices. Breaking up with him seems counter-productive if you're seeking to change your karma with him. Breaking up would be repeating past life events, and no one learns anything from making the same mistake over and over.

I believe we're aware of what our choices will be before we reincarnate, and we can even choose to return with the people we love. Other things simply occur as random events in our lives.

Think about the poor little kids who get abusive parents - no one would choose that! That is not a case of karmic punishment; it's random, unfortunate circumstance. Of course, sometimes the people in our Karmic Family make very poor choices. Other times, we connect with people outside our Karmic Families, or we take on suffering to spare someone else from experiencing it.

To say that because something happened in a past life, you can't influence it now is too simplistic. Change is hard for people; it has to be considered and contemplated, then actively and determinedly pursued.

I agree that fifteen years is a long time to wait on someone to do what you want them to do. Nevertheless, you seem confused about whether or not you want to really move on. This unfinished business will indeed hold you back. Since you're aware of what went wrong before, you can now choose to keep repeating it or take action and change this pattern for good.

2407

Susyn:

Many times in our lives, we stay in situations or repeat patterns in an effort to resolve karma or change the outcome of certain choices. Between our heads and our hearts, we go back and forth, trying to determine which path is the right one for us.

It sounds like this situation has caused much turmoil and confusion for you both. As I've seen to be true for many of my clients and even myself, this will simply keep you stuck in a never-ending cycle.

The solution to this problem is twofold: First, it's time to step back from your thoughts and feelings and turn the problem over to your spiritual source. Second, you must shift your focus from what he is doing back to yourself, and identify how fear is preventing you from moving forward.

I agree that you probably were husband and wife in a past life, though your karmic lesson in this connection may simply be learning to walk away again. Though your feelings run deep, there is an even greater part of you that longs to experience the love, commitment and trust that comes from being in the right relationship.

You seem very open to giving this man a second (third or fourth?) chance, but it doesn't sound like he is ready or willing to give you what you need. Although this may be due to a lack of spiritual development on his part, you are suffering by limiting your own needs and desires.

Instead of trying to figure out if the two of you should be together or if giving him more time is the answer, you can let this connection go and trust the Universe to take things from here. If he is destined to be in your life as a committed partner, walking away from him will produce the growth necessary for him to commit to you. If he's not, it will open you up to the true and loving partner Spirit wants for you.

Though it may seem difficult to walk away from a connection you've invested so much time in (in this lifetime as well as in other lives), you are working against your own spiritual growth if you sit still any longer. Though he may be familiar and you may see his potential, you are still alone, and may be keeping the Universe from bringing you the soul mate connection your heart is crying out for.

I encourage you to take a leap of faith. Begin by walking away from this connection with trust that if he is the one, he will step up to the plate. If he is not the one, you can rest assured that the Universe will bring you the person your heart is truly longing for.

Astrea:

Many times in life we hear, "You will always have what you NEED, but not necessarily what you WANT." Your spirit must have needed to experience the feeling of leaving your human body, and the suggestion in the next chapter of Sylvia Brown's book was all it took to get you there.

Even though you hadn't read it yet, your SOUL recognized the title of that chapter as something it had been seeking, and your soul, knowing that you had that reference to read after your experience, got with it and out you went!

While I don't usually recommend her books, Sylvia Brown has a wide reaching and powerful effect on lots of people. A Gemini like you would be able to relate easily to her writing and put it to good use. Synchronicity - you gotta love it!

I like your description of "getting caught." That's exactly what it feels like, isn't it? One minute you're free and hovering above the room, and the next minute, ZAP! back down into your corporeal form you go!

As a little kid, I loved that "feeling of return." With practice, most of the time we can control that event, but sometimes, when our physical ears hear a distracting noise or something else occurs to knock us back into reality, back we go. With practice you will be able to control your return better.

I find it interesting that you were visiting your mother-in-law and not someone in your own genetic family. Evidently, you and your husband got married for reasons that are even deeper than love. His family's interest in "psychic stuff" will nurture your children in such matters and help them to grow into their own abilities.

You'll never have to be concerned that when your daughter visits them, she'll be discouraged from exploring her own psychic life and power. My parents encouraged me to develop my psychic senses in a time when it wasn't nice to even discuss such things in public. Heck, it's STILL not considered a great topic at the dinner table in some families!

Your kids will get to talk about it ALL and ask questions and read and study. This is going to give them such an edge in life! Talk with your husband about how you want to present this to your kiddos, so that you are united in your approach and ready to tell them their experiences are all natural and okay.

A word or two of warning: Geminis often have difficulty staying grounded in REAL LIFE. Don't get so strung out on your ASTRAL life that you neglect what you're doing here on Earth.

You are at the beginning of a long journey to learn where your power really lies. Try to be patient with this process and take your time.