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.

The other night while my husband was asleep on the couch, I did some energy work on myself. I try to do this a couple of times a week. I brought light all around me and asked my angels and guides to join me. I finished the energy work and then sat back to watch some television. About an hour later, one of my husband's figurines fell from the top of the bookshelf, and then a minute later, the DVD player just shut itself off. Did I bring this on, or did one of my angels or guides do this for attention? A couple of days later, around five a.m., my husband was already up and I was in a half asleep/half awake state. I was having a dream that I was looking out a window. Then in my dream, I felt arms coming around my waist and giving me a warm hug. This woke me from the dream, and I realized that somebody was actually hugging me while I was lying in the bed. I wasn't afraid; I just assumed it was one of my angels or my guides. (I ask them to be with me at all times.) There have been other times while I'm lying down meditating, quietly reading, or doing energy work, and a being will sit down on the bed beside me and touch my hair or stroke my face. I can feel the mattress move from their weight. I've never felt any fear from this, but I have stopped telling other people because it really freaks them out. My husband wants to hear nothing of this, as he's afraid of an evil entity pretending to be a guide. Can this be normal behavior for guides and angels, or is my husband right in believing that it could be something that I can't handle?

- S.

Astrea:

Of course it freaks other people out when you talk about things like that because they don't understand and don't know how to process that information. Our guides and angels struggle to come through to us because many people can't or won't accept the existence of metaphysical entities. People are afraid of what they can't see.

However, if those of us who have these experiences don't discuss them, how will we ever know what's going on in the World beyond the Veil?

I never try to define so-called normal behavior for guides and angels, but what you describe seems to happen to many people with your level of awareness. Many people describe the feelings you have.

Some talk about how they feel enclosed by angel wings. Many times when I'm driving, I'll feel a hand on my shoulder that causes me to slow down or change my route.

Often people feel that a loved one who has crossed over is letting them know they're all right with that kind of caress. Sometimes these entities are able to manifest visually for us, but most often, we feel what is going on more than we see it. Connecting with guides and angels can be tricky business, but most of the time goodness comes through.

I'm sure in this specific case that you and your husband needn't worry about something horrible coming into your house and sticking around. I feel pretty safe in assuming that this force works for GOOD. I'm sure you do plenty of protection work to prevent any kind of evil entity masquerading as an angel or a guide from entering your home or your personal harmony.

One of the big rules of all positive energy work is protecting yourself when you start. That's one of the first things we learn when we begin to chase the Light. It's true that sometimes Evil can come through meditation practices accidentally, but it's pretty rare. People who know what they're doing are fairly immune to Evil.

Besides, while this isn't always the case, Evil likes to be invited. Evil is lazy, and it's easier to work with the willing.

For safety's sake, do a little more protection work every now and then. Your husband should trust you to be careful. Since fear of the unknown often opens doors to things he wouldn't like coming in, he would be wise to assume that you know what you're doing, and certainly aren't inviting evil in.

Just take care and everything will work out fine.

*****

Susyn:

Your question raises some interesting ideas. It's true that there have been cases of entities pretending to be friendly, only to turn into negative presences later. However, the fact that you are praying to and asking for your angels and guides to surround you makes it unlikely that these are negative forces you are dealing with.

Had you moved into a different house or been practicing witchcraft or strange spiritual incantations or methodologies without awareness or spiritual consciousness, you might very well have invited in spirits of a malevolent nature. However, these negative entities rarely come near those of us who begin our meditations and conscious energy work by surrounding ourselves with divine light.

Also, since you make a habit of specifically inviting your angels and guides to join you, they are already present and would be the first to alert you if a negative presence appeared.

People who don't understand these processes, like your husband, will often carry a lot of fear about the events you describe. It's always wise to be mindful of what happens after your energy work, but if these are negative spirits, it won't take long for them to start creating trouble.

A change in your demeanor or your husband's, increased arguments, negative thinking and depression are signs that you have invited a negative entity into your life.

On the other hand, if your guides and angels are showing up for you, you'll experience lightness of being, a more positive outlook, and a sense of greater protection and inner peace.

You mentioned that a figurine of your husband's fell off the shelf after one such session. Keep in mind that it's possible that there is some spirit that is attached to you and is targeting your husband because it feels jealous or possessive of you.

If you continue to notice that whatever is involved is specifically moving his things about, or if it starts interfering with your relationship, you'll have to be firm with it about his importance in your life the next time you have contact.

Don't be concerned because your husband and other people have reacted negatively to these occurrences, but do be mindful of who you share these events with. There are still many people in the world who find the idea of contact with the spirit world frightening or threatening. However, unless you yourself have negative experiences with these entities, I doubt there is anything to fear here.

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.