Eye Saw the Signs

In my previous blog post –, I described how and why we are being given signs along our journeys. These little (and sometimes not so little) signposts are physical manifestations and validations of what is needed to be seen. And, it’s okay if you miss seeing your signs (I often times actually tried to) so that I could “be like everyone else.”

But the universe is infinite in its patience, and, just like driving and missing your exit, life will bring you to another opportunity to notice the signs and redirect yourself back onto your path.

So, on to my initial life’s signs …

In the early 1960’s, I would wake up and see a Being sitting on the end of my upper bunk bed. It would just sit there with what looked like its feet dangling over the edge of my bed, and its head turned looking at me. This Being had a gentle glow around it, and I always felt happy and peaceful that it was there. I used to Love it whenever it would wake me up, and one time my little sister who slept in the bunk bed below me had the same experience. At that point, I knew in my heart “Yes, there is an Elf from Santa’s workshop that checks in on me!” (okay, so I more or less misread the sign on that one, but I was all of 4 years old).

In the mid-60’s I was going through the process of having my first communion. I had no idea what the whole shin-dig was about, but, I do remember thinking that I might like to become a nun. The nuns that I knew got to wear those lovely flowing-type outfits with the matching shoes and head-gear (handy for bad hair days).

My family was doing the “proper Catholic celebration” at our home with all the friends, relatives, and relatives of relatives (aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, neighbours, you name it).   There was also a lot of presents (crosses, necklaces, and bible-like things, but no toys, sigh…) and of course a big cake with little silver balls all over it – the most import of all.

At that same time, my grandmother’s friend, Mrs. Furry (yes, that was her real name) had been hospitalized, as she was very sick, yet I remember I kept seeing her standing at the front door of our tiny house. I would look at Mrs. Furry and wonder “why doesn’t she just come in, we’re going to get to eat that fancy cake soon.”

Right about the time that I’m seeing Mrs. Furry at our front door, my grandmother had gone into my parent’s bedroom to call the hospital and see how her friend was doing. Shortly afterward my grandmother came out of the bedroom and was crying. She was so sad, and I remember saying to her “Grandma, don’t cry because Mrs. Furry’s not at the hospital, she came to the house to be here with us, she’s all better now, and she’s waiting at the front door.”

Well, needless to say, what I was seeing and saying wasn’t matching up to what my lovely grandmother had been told on the telephone and what she was feeling, and things kind-of got weird after that.

It turned out that Mrs. Furry had transitioned that morning, and now I was getting into trouble for “telling stories that weren’t true.” Lucky for me, it was my first communion day, so I somehow escaped being punished (for telling the truth of all things!), and I finally did get to eat my cake.

When I was in both elementary and secondary school, I would know when certain teachers were going to be absent, if the fire alarm was going to go off, and whether we were going to be given a surprise spot-test on a particular subject (too bad I didn’t pay attention to the spot-test inner “knowings” as I may have done better on those, but I digress). I would tell my friends on our way to school “oh Mrs. Walker won’t be there today”, or “be ready for a surprise math quiz this morning”, or “don’t worry too much about the surprise math quiz because the fire alarm is going to go off.”

Seeing that it was the 1960’s and into the early 1970’s, having this kind of “gift of knowing” wasn’t necessarily viewed as a gift, let alone appropriate, and definitely not great for buying into the illusion of fitting in with the crowd!

I think it was around that time that I started to realize that not everyone was receiving “the knowings” or tuning into the same things that I was. This baffled me for the longest time, as I thought other people were just playing some kind of game with me, and pretending that they couldn’t see, feel or hear what I was.

I decided that there was something terribly flawed and wrong with me as no one else ever spoke about these experiences, so I surrendered to becoming quiet about “the knowings.” I mean, after all, it was getting beyond challenging to articulate what I was experiencing, let alone that no one seemed to believe me (until after the fact), so it was beginning to be easier to say little or nothing at all.

This surrendering began to take on a life form of its own, so much so, that one day while out riding my bike, my stomach started doing queasy-flips (and those kinds of “flips” were serious warning signs that something bad or frightening was going to happen), but I always knew that in the end, I would be okay as long as I paid close attention to the signs. As I was riding my bike past some tall bushes, I clearly heard the words “hide now,” so I did ~ I ditched my bike and merged myself into those big tall scratchy bushes and stood there barely breathing let alone moving.

I no sooner hid into those bushes when a station wagon with a creepy looking man driving it came slowly down the street; I could see that he was looking for someone, and I viscerally felt that the someone, was me.

I stayed morphed into those bushes for what seemed like forever until I could hear my Dad calling my name to come home for dinner-time. When I got home, my Mom asked me why I was so dirty, and I remember telling her that I fell off my bike. At that same moment, my great-grandfather who had already transitioned was standing in our kitchen next to the table with a big happy smile on his face; it was him who gave me the message to hide.

I never did tell my parents what happened that day; I kept it to myself. Between the social conditioning that was in play at the time and my family dynamics, it was simpler not to say anything.   And, as my Aunt Marguerite-Louise who couldn’t speak any English would say, “Don’ttt pannikk yourrrrself!!!”

As my life continued, there would always be signposts along the way that would nudge me in the direction that was needed. Sometimes those nudges were subtle and other times not so much.

It wasn’t until I was in my late 20’s and early 30’s that I started to understand that there was something called a highly developed sense of intuition.

Some of the biggest lessons that I learned was that it’s okay that others didn’t understand me or what I was experiencing, I came into the earth realm for a purpose of being “a helper” (service-to-others), and I wasn’t nearly as alone in what I saw, felt and heard as I thought I was.

My early experiences led me to understand that the evolution of the Soul is always in progress, and shifts in perspectives are inevitable (yes, on all levels), and, there is no such thing as normal but there is very much a thing called natural.

Trust your intuition as it’s there for a reason; everything is always working itself out (especially when you think it couldn’t possibly be).

When I was little, I didn’t consider my early life events as “signs,” but now I smile and when I reflect back on my journey as I understand that the signs were always pointing me to my path of being me, and eventually sharing “the knowings” along the way.

Remember that the universe is always in communication with us ~ giving us little messages, creating coincidences and kismets, dharma and destiny, and reminding us to stop, receive and observe our signs!

“I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign; life can be demanding without understanding.” – Ace of Base

“You, yourself, are the eternal energy which appears as this universe. You didn’t come into this world; you came out of it. Like a wave from the ocean.” – Alan Watts

“Today, look for a small sign, a small miracle, a small thing of beauty that will connect you to the source of all beauty and miracles.” – The After Life of Billy Fingers

Guided Thoughts from a Psychic Medium