I got my wings today.
No bell chimed. No angelic harmony resounded. They were just handed to me.
An official metal pin from a national airline declared me “flight crew.” I flashed back to childhood when flying on TWA.
I recalled the thrill as my brother and I met the pilot in the cockpit and received our wings to wear during the flight.
This plastic trinket added a level of delight as we flew the friendly skies toward our next adventure. You can tell that story happened a long, long time ago as no one is getting in the cockpit these days.
As she handed me my wings, she said “You changed my life.”
Another story was pulled from the past as this lovely woman recounted an Angelic Healing Journey she had with me many years before. At that time, she was in a pickle. A serious one. The empowering words and images offered during that Angelic conversation revealed a fence on which she was sitting, and her power to move in one direction (up) or another (down). It offered her hope and a choice.
Apparently, as she reminded me, the Angels suggested the friendly skies were a part of that deal – strange as that was at the time.
It’s not my story to tell here.
I will mention that it involved tremendous courage, hardship, and adventure (not all of it soaring nor fun).
It isn’t every day that you learn the impact of something you offered to someone 10 years prior.
To be clear, I mean offered as the transmitter of the Angels’ messages embedded with their tremendous wisdom, love, compassion, and wit. Holding that pin, we spoke of her decision to follow the invitation to fly through her challenges to discover what was on the other side.
Years of hard work led to doors opening and life changing in ways that continue to amaze her.
Life showed her that there was more in store for her when she dared to get off that damn fence. How making one choice and taking small actions led to the next choice, the next actions, and the next open door.
We spoke about personal responsibility and the commitment to dare to live a life she dreamed about.
We kept the conversation going.
Exploring how to keep expanding and prepare for the inevitable tough times life was sure to deliver. The adventure of living offers ongoing opportunities for transformation.
As any traveller knows, excitement and trepidation may accompany you on the journey.
Facing the next challenge, you have the option to back away, sit on the fence, or step on the path. All approaches are understandable, yet one choice ultimately allows you to fly more freely toward your destiny.
Did I mention that she became a flight attendant much to her surprise?
Those Angels, they know stuff.
Wings in hand, now part of the “flight crew,” I was reminded to seek the open skies in my life. To have the courage to look deeply within when challenged so I might understand the gift life is presenting. Then make that choice, take that action, and walk through that opening door.
I hope you know that new horizons exist beyond your current vision.
And that you have plenty of Angelic helpers to guide your steps along the unique path you are walking. Trusting that each step awakens greater courage and offers the excitement of the next new discovery awaiting you.
Claim your wings. You don’t need the pin to soar higher. After all, the sky’s the limit.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Got courage? Sure you do. Such as what researchers call “general courage” which includes those confident or bold moves we’d easily label as courageous. Personal courage doesn’t have to be dramatic and may only be viewed as such within the mind of the one who took the action or made the choice. Whether you display the quiet persistence to get out of bed when life is hard or act with integrity when faced with injustice, you cultivate courage one step at a time.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
Three months ago, I unexpectedly entered into a relationship with a horse.
I met Zor during a visit to Liberty Stables in Florida, where I had gone to spend time with a friend’s horses. I had no particular expectations. I have no background with horses, no training, and no experience in equine-assisted therapy. I simply met this magnificent Friesian, and something quietly familiar unfolded between us.
I fell in love.
The women who arrive in my classes, retreats, and therapy sessions are sincerely looking for healing, expansion, clarity, or sometimes just a little room to breathe.
They are thoughtful women, deeply engaged with the people and work they love. Rarely do they arrive because they want another spiritual philosophy. Most are carrying something much more ordinary.
A life that has become full. Beautiful in many ways, but crowded.
About twenty-five years ago, I was driving with a colleague to a local conference. As we approached the hotel entrance, I noticed an open parking spot near the front door.
“There’s a spot,” I said, pointing to the right. He drove past it.
A few seconds later, another one appeared. He drove past that one, too. Then I pointed to a third. “There’s a spot.” Without the slightest hesitation, Dan replied, “I’ll leave that for someone else.” And he calmly parked much farther away. As we walked to the entrance, I asked about that statement.
During the Seeding the Light Gathering, I had the privilege of hosting Pascual and Jose Tomas in our home.
They feel like family as this was their second visit to New Jersey. We’ve also spent a week together in Damanhur and the Temples of Humankind in Italy. I’ve sat in many ceremonies with Pascual in Peru’s Sacred Valley. His flute playing often carried me up mountain trails in the thin air and hot sun.
I planned to work a bit, complete some projects, and enjoy slow days with plenty of relaxation.
All of that certainly occurred, but beneath it all, something else began quietly inviting my attention.
The plane had begun its slow fall toward the earth when a sharp ache pierced my ears. Half-dozing, half-aware, I surfaced into the moment just as the toddler in front of me woke with a scream that broke her open. The sound wasn’t defiance or misbehavior. It was pain.
I felt her small body struggling to make sense of something she couldn’t name.
Her mother bent over her with the tenderness of someone trying very hard to be a good parent. But her soothing came dressed in urgency, in the quiet pressure to behave, to use words, to be okay, to not disturb those seated around her. Her voice shook with the effort of managing her child’s distress and her own rising shame.
