Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, dear Readers. I hope that your New Year will bring you Angel power for your best and highest good. After a long, dry spell, I am finally getting in touch and in tune with my own Angels again, with some very interesting experiences and insights. I present this one to you.

Of all the interesting experiences I have had with the Other World thus far, this one ranks as one of the most unusual, to date. On the night after Christmas, I had gone to bed as usual, sleeping soundly until very early in the morning, when I began to rouse. Lying in a half-asleep/half-awake state, I became aware of a warm bundle pushed up against my right thigh, as I lay on my back in bed. Somewhat startled, I moved my leg away, just enough to break contact with the warm bundle. It immediately extended an appendage that resembled a small thigh with a leg attached to it (no feet or toes) that moved quickly under my right thigh to keep contact with my body. Now I came fully awake and suddenly became frightened. For a few moments, my emotions fought with each other. One part of me wanted to be frightened of this experience (which was still going on), while another part pooh-poohed the fright and urged me to relax, for there was no sense of threat or danger emanating from the bundle at all. Relax I did and took in the feelings surrounding this bundle that was so interested in snuggling up against me.

Keep in mind that I was fully awake by now, yet the experience was continuing and had not disappeared as it would have, had this been but a dream. The small, warm bundle was about the size and shape of a medium-sized cat that was sitting on the bed with its paws tucked under its chest. Had it been a cat, it would have been oriented at an angle such that most of its length was pushed up against me, with its tail (it didn’t have a tail) toward my feet and its head (it didn’t have a head) toward my own head. There was no feeling of fur or skin, just a rounded body with mass, weight (about 8-10 lbs.), and warmth (I could feel the warmth of its little body). The warmth was constant, and there was no rhythmic movement to indicate that it was breathing. In fact it was not breathing, but was just resting quietly and firmly against my thigh. After a few moments of getting the feel of the situation, I got up and went to the bathroom, still fully awake. Returning to the bed, still fully awake, I climbed in, got under the covers, and there it was, smooshed up against me again. I marveled at this, that even though I was thoroughly and widely awake, I could still feel the little bundle when I returned to bed. As I said above, if this had been a mere dream, it should have evaporated, and I should not now be feeling little warm bundles against my thigh. With everyone all comfy, I fell immediately asleep and only awoke with the alarm. This time when I woke up, the bundle was gone.

With it gone and with me very wide awake and the light on, I checked the bed thoroughly to make sure that I had not been imagining all of this. Perhaps I had only fantasized the experience and instead of a bundle, I had inadvertently pushed the extra blankets off myself, balling them up against me, and then dreamed that a small warm bundle rested against my thigh. On careful examination I found the extra blankets exactly where I had left them, on my side of the bed. Where I had felt the bundle there was nothing except the bedspread, flat and unwrinkled. Indeed, that area was so flat and smooth that it was almost as if it had been smoothed out for some purpose. Seeing this, I realized that the bundle had had to be on top of the covers, level with my thigh. It was not below the covers; it was not higher up in the air and still pressed against my thigh; it was exactly in the same plane as my lower limbs, pressed directly against my thigh from the plane of the covers to the top of my thigh.

On the drive to work, I mulled over what this bundle could have been and what it was doing pressed up against my thigh. It definitely was not any of the cats I had had in the past years, since they each have a personal signature when they visit me. Rutherford usually comes as himself: thin, black, walking around. He has purred in my chest, as he did the night after the day he died, but this bundle did not feel like Rutherford. George also comes to me as himself: a small long-haired tabby, all furry and cute. Samantha, too, purred in my chest after she disappeared–so intensely that the pain of the buzzing woke me up. The bundle did not have Samantha’s signature. Her sister, Sadie, has come to me like George: a small Maine Coon cat with furry toes and furry pantaloons behind her legs. The signature was not Sadie, either. So, that left out the cats. As to why this little creature was cuddled up against me, it was for comfort and protection. Being pushed up against me, it was within the protective zone of my aura, so other astral creatures could not feed off its energy. Even though it was within my energy field, it was not drawing energy from me; indeed, it gave a little, even as it received. This I deduced from its radiation of warmth. It felt very safe and comfortable next to me, which was why it extended its little appendage when I moved my thigh away. It needed to remain in contact with my body to stay safe and protected. It gave off such a sweet radiance that I actually missed it when I got up with the alarm clock.

Even though I was able to receive much information about this little bundle just by staying still and taking in its essence, I still wonder. I wonder if this was the first time the little bundle had found me and took refuge? I wonder if this little bundle usually visits me and hangs around me for protection, but this was the first time I became aware of it? I wonder what it took refuge from?? I wonder if it will come again? I wonder what kind of energy creature this bundle is and what kind life it leads? I wonder if it is indeed living in the Astral Plane or if it comes from a different dimension? And I wonder if it will come back again soon, for its little energy was just precious.

We first met Nancy and her terminally ill mother, Zelda, in the post Heavenly Helpers (4/29/13) when Angels aided Nancy in removing her mother from a fragile, solid glass coffee table. Not long after, Zelda passed on. A day or so after the event, Nancy was idly thinking of her mother and wondering whether Zelda would try to contact her. Meandering to the master bathroom with this thought in mind, Nancy went to the sink to wash her hands. What should appear right in front of her face but a teensy weensy brown spider, lowering itself on a silk thread. Nancy leaped a mile and disposed of the spider. “Ma, is that you?” she asked, laughing.

At this point, Nancy interrupted her narrative to give me some background information. Zelda, her mother, had something of a quirky personality, which manifested itself in strange ways at time. Nancy had never been very fond of spiders, and she avoided them at all costs. One day she was outside when her mother said, “What’s that crawling on you?” Immediately, Nancy began screaming, “Get it off!! Get it off!” and brushing her arms, head, and back. Zelda just laughed, despite knowing her daughters hatred of spiders.

Having disposed of the little spider in the bathroom, Nancy went back to her tasks. A few days later, she was in the kitchen and saw another tiny brown spider on the counter. She got rid of that one too, then turned to a different counter. There, on a plate, was yet another tiny spider, crawling away. Nancy had had it. “OK, Ma,” she said, “that’s enough.” From that time onward, she never saw another spider in her house.

What an inventively humorous way for Zelda (who had passed on) to get in touch with her daughter! Nancy knew immediately on seeing the first spider that her mother was behind it and was trying to communicate her that she (Zelda) was still around and in a good place. It is not uncommon for “deceased” relatives to contact us in this manner, using specific cues known only to the family to both substantiate an identity and to unambiguously call attention to themselves. No one outside the family knew of Nancy and Zelda’s earlier incident with spiders, so Zelda’s choice of subject satisfied both the use of a specific cue and that of calling attention to herself. As Nancy said, she knew instantly that her mother was behind the spider phenomena, and she tired of it after the third incident. On hearing Nancy’s thought, “Ok, Ma, that’s enough”, Zelda knew she had made contact and so was free to pursue her next adventure in the Other World. Although we no longer have them in their physical bodies, our friends, relatives, and acquaintances who have passed on are nevertheless in perfect health and in a much more real environment than we are, for they have gone Home.

Feeling very beaten up these days by Life and after the decades of wrenching I have endured, I had been feeling very much like taking to my bed, pulling the covers over my head, and sleeping for an eternity. Occasionally, I have actually tried to do this, with amusing results which indicate clearly that my mission is not to explore the insides of my eyelids, but to be awake and functioning.

In regard to the state of sleep, I have often tried to squeeze in some extra zzzzz time, to no avail. I have awakened, then attempt to sleep longer. After just a few moments, the sound of an actual alarm clock has gone off, usually up and to my left, so loud that I jump out of bed in a rush. “Ah, Angels,” I think, as I realize that I don’t even own an alarm clock. Then there is nothing for it but to get up and face that day. Another favorite sound for my Angels is the blare of the telephone, which rings loudly in my ear, usually up and to my left. Leaping out of bed I realize that no telephone is ringing in the real world, so again, I’m up and prepare to face the day. Sometimes I hear my name called, loudly, once, and with great effect. To this too, I leap up as if stung by yellow jackets only to find that I am all alone with my current mission, which won’t get done if I am lying like a lump in bed. More’s the pity….. For those times when nothing else seems to do the trick, the sound of a cannon going off guarantees results every time. Never mind leaping. This catapults me out of bed, and I get the message totally. You! Up! Now! Inventive little creatures aren’t they, those Angels?

Meditation has become a favorite time for me. A state unlike sleep and even more satisfying and relaxing, I have become reluctant to leave it, even when I am hovering over my body—especially at that time. I have found myself attempting to stay in the meditative state when it is clearly time to be up and at ‘em. If I persist in trying to stay in meditation, I have heard the most exquisite and lovely of chimes, tinkling and bonging just up and to my left. For some reason, I respond to this dutifully, returning to my body and getting on with my life.

These experiences beg several questions: why is it so important for me to be awake when I am usually alone in my house? What is so terribly important that I must be awake NOW and not a moment later? Is my pathetic little life so vital to the function of this earthly plane that Angels would go to this kind of trouble to awaken me? And why are the sounds so different, depending on whether I am in the sleep state or in meditation?

For now, my conclusions are few. Apparently, each one of us has some vital function in our own circles which relies on our being awake and either interacting with others in our vicinity, or, in my case, the work that I am doing in solitude, not the least of which is continuing these posts, dear Readers. As inconsequential as each of us might regard herself, despite not being in the news or in the gossip columns, each one of us is important in the universal scheme of things, while we are alive and breathing on this earth. Life can beat us down, but we are still important! So important that Angels send forth trumpets, cannons, chimes, alarm clocks, and telephones just to get our attention so that we will continue with our mission. Let us accept, then, the gentle urging of our Angels and continue with our own very important private Heavenly mission.

My friend, Nancy, has a mother, Zelda, who is ill with a terminal condition. Nancy has brought Zelda to her home and is taking care of her there. Due to this terminal disease, Zelda has bouts of memory lapse and strange behaviors, which Nancy indulges within reason. One of these is that Zelda likes to sleep on the couch in the enclosed porch, so Nancy has made her an alternative bed there.

One night, Nancy had lain down to sleep. Sleep would not come, however, because she kept hearing odd noises coming from the enclosed porch and kept seeing a vision of the glass-topped coffee table that stood in front of the couch. Try as she might, Nancy could not dismiss this image from her mind. Sighing, she got up to see what was going on.

Quietly opening the door to the porch, Nancy was aghast to see her mother on all fours smack atop the glass-covered coffee table! She stood there in shock, thinking how her husband had just had the top repaired because of a crack, wondering how on earth her mother had managed to get on top of the table, and wondering just how she could extract her mother from the table without breaking the glass again. For the problem was that the glass would surely break if Zelda were to put uneven weight on the glass, as she must if she were to get herself off the top of the table. Without a second thought, Nancy hurried to the table, put her arms around her mother’s chest, lifted up, and stood there for a second, expecting her mother to help with the extrication.

As Nancy lifted Zelda up into the air, she was expecting her mother to put out a foot onto the floor, or an arm to steady herself and aid in the extrication process, neither of which her mother did. Instead, Zelda had curled up her arms and legs, tucking them up against her body. “Ma! You’ve got to help me get you down!” cried Nancy, but Zelda just held her pose. In the next instant, Nancy found herself gently easing Zelda onto the floor, completely unharmed, with the glass still intact on top of the coffee table.

As Nancy calmly told this story, I just sat, open-mouthed.
“Do you know that you’ve just had Heavenly help in getting your mother off that coffee table?” I asked, awestruck.
“Yeah, I could feel it,” replied Nancy.
“Doesn’t this seem strange to you?” I asked, still awestruck.
“No,” replied Nancy. “I just expect it. They’re around all the time. It’s just part of life.”

I sat back, speechless. On questioning Nancy closely, she has these kinds of experiences often and takes them as a matter of course (doesn’t everyone have their own private Angel for just such occasions?) and expects that help will be available whenever and wherever she needs it. While I sat there, impressed down to my toenails, Nancy just treated this episode as a normal facet of life.

Be that as it may, I extracted every ounce of information from Nancy that she was willing to give, just to have the information complete so I could pass it along to you, dear Readers. We even walked into the porch to look at the physical setting. On doing so, I was even more impressed at how Nancy was able to accomplish getting her mother off the coffee table in the manner she had described, because after looking at the physical setting, there was no earthly way that Nancy would have either the strength or the leverage to accomplish what she had done without otherworldly help. Allow me to set the scene:

The enclosed porch is attached to the back of the house, runs its entire length, and is connected to the main house by two glass doors. Three sides of the porch are windows, covered by vertical blinds. It houses lounge furniture and the immense glass-topped coffee table. This table is approximately three feet wide by three feet deep and 2 ½ feet high, made of a bamboo-like material. The entire top is glass. It is situated in front of the couch; along one side is another stuffed arm chair. There is only approximately 1 ½ feet of space between the couch and the coffee table, so there is not much room for anything except feet. If a short person were to stand next to the coffee table, the top of it would come to mid-thigh. If that short person were to bend over the coffee table, her arms would not reach the far end, and she would not have enough leverage to lift anything long and heavy off the table top. As both Nancy and I are short (5’ 3”), I could immediately see that what Nancy had done—lift her mother off the coffee table without help and without cracking the table top–was totally impossible.

First of all, Zelda is not light. She is a sturdily built woman, who weighs approximately 150-160 lbs. That alone would preclude Nancy’s being able to lift Zelda off the table without help. Then, Zelda did not cooperate in getting off the table, but only just curled herself up into a ball when Nancy picked her straight up off the table. Picking Zelda straight up off the table was impossible both because of Zelda’s weight and the very important fact that Nancy would not have been able to get enough leverage to do so, since Nancy is so short in relation to height of the coffee table. Perhaps a strong, young man 6 feet tall or greater and weighing 250 lbs. could have lifted Zelda straight up and over, but not Nancy. Yet Nancy had done it, and she was not even out of breath. Lastly, there is the issue of setting the woman down safely after having lifted her off the table. Having lifted her mother up and over, Nancy would now be faced with setting her mother down onto the floor without hurting her. Remember that Zelda weighs approx. 150 lbs. That, coupled with gravity (F=ma for you physics fans), gives a great force downward that must be retarded in order for Zelda not to fall on her head with a thump. Nancy, with her small size, does not have the strength to retard that much force without endangering her mother’s well-being, yet it was accomplished. Her mother did not fall, did not hit her head, just gently came to earth.

One more point bears stressing: that of the tiny space between the couch and the coffee table. Even if Nancy had had some superhuman burst of strength and power to lift her mother off the coffee table by herself and set her down safely, there was not enough space in which to accomplish this incredible feat. Yet, Zelda was extracted from off the top of the glass coffee table by her short daughter without stirring a hair of her head. Wow. Just wow. This, dear Readers, is what your Angels wish you to remember: that help is available to you at all times, free for the asking. Just ask, expect, believe, and voila! Mission accomplished.

Many of us have heard the old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”. Not many know that things are really the other way around: you’ll see it when you believe it. This happens because thoughts are things. That bears repeating in caps: THOUGHTS ARE THINGS. What you believe you manifest; what you cannot believe will not come into your life. So, you will see what you believe. This was brought home to me not long ago after a purchase I made had gone awry.

Having moved recently to a much smaller dwelling, I found there was not enough room for my books. The thought occurred to me that I could buy an ornamental bookcase or cabinet to store my books that could be decorative as well as functional. Amazingly, I found a beautiful antique cabinet that would fit the bill. After careful measuring, looking, thinking, planning, and visualizing, I took the plunge and bought it. It was delivered to my house along with the key, and I turned the key to open the door. The key did not work. It would not unlock the cabinet. There I was, with a beautiful antique wooden cabinet that had just become useless. I cannot even begin to describe my emotions.

Finally taking control, I called the antique store, whose personnel had not been very friendly or helpful up until now. Nevertheless, one of the co-owners agreed to come to my house to unlock the door. She came quickly, and I stayed out of her way, as she tried repeatedly without success to unlock the door. Still staying out of her way, I began washing the dishes, taking my attention away from that blasted locked door. As my mind wandered, I recalled in times past how I had pictured something occurring and then having that thing actually happen in real life very soon after I began picturing it. So, I started picturing the door being open and how happy both of us would be as we viewed the open door. Within five minutes, she had the door open, when for the past 1/2 hour she had had no success whatsoever. We jumped around, shouted, whooped, and congratulated each other. I thanked her profusely for her help and vowed never to lock that door again.

Since THOUGHTS ARE THINGS, why wouldn’t everyone begin picturing abundance and happiness? Why not indeed? Keep your sunny side up, see, feel, and breathe your aspirations, then expect them to happen. You won’t even be able to recognize your life.