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Wet Pants and The Hare

Bear with me on this one. I've been doing a lot of spiritual/ psychic development of late: meditation, channelling, visualisation and the such-like, in order to strengthen my connection with the Universal energies, because, quite frankly, my connections have been a tad loose and wobbly over the last few months, what with one domestic upset after another. 

Therefore, now feeling more on an even keel, I have been using my settled time to sort out these connections. Now, when one receives messages from the Universe, one rather likes to have the messages quantified by some sort of earthly signal or sign. A sort of 'big tick, you heard right' just so that you don't think it was all in your imagination and you were having a slightly crackers moment. This can happen because we are human and, consequently, suspicious, stubborn and cynical of nature. I think a big, and tricky part of psychic and spiritual development is trying to not be suspicious, stubborn and cynical, and to be open, loving and trusting instead. It's bloomin' hard work sometimes. 

Where was I? Ah yes. So a couple of days ago, my spirit companion gang said, 'Write your dream.' They wanted me to free write, in a stream-of-consciousness kind of way, what my dream was for living this third part of my life. They also said I was to learn a bit more about astrology, because it would enhance my Tarot reading practice. I said, but that'll involve maths. I hate maths. They said, you've got an O level. I said, only just. They rolled their eyes...

...I have started learning more about astrology. (See - suspicious, stubborn and cynical, only not too much because astrology is a subject I do find fascinating. I didn't fight TOO hard against this one.)

Back to signs and signals. Traditional ones are things like the appearance of white feathers and robins. However, my environs is currently littered with feathers and robins, what with it being birdy breeding season. Talking of which - the first baby swallows of the year are here!!


This was Nestcam first thing this morning. (When I say 'nestcam' I mean Andy wafting his phone over the nest. We haven't gone all fancy pants Springwatch.) Some eggs and some very unattractive newly hatched pink and bald babies. Five in all, I reckon. Lovely stuff! There must be a lot of insects around.  

My 'sign', as it were, is hares. We have hares in the fields around us but because the farmer has been lax in cutting the grass so far this year, we haven't seen them. But the grass was cut a couple of weeks ago and almost immediately a hare the size of a Labrador appeared and galloped around as if to say, 'I've been here all along - you just haven't been able to see me.'

Back to writing my dream. I went to find a new notebook, because ideas like these always warrant a new notebook and I need little excuse to fuel my stationery buying habit. Whilst kneeling on the floor next to the storage cubby hole on my desk that contains my stash of new notebooks, I became aware of a very odd feeling. The last time I had this feeling - sort of cold and wet and rather unpleasant, like ice rushing through your veins - was when my waters broke prior to giving birth. At 57 years old, this was going to be a highly unlikely scenario, I thought. Perish the thought.

And then I realised the hem of my voluminous tunic top had dangled itself in Bambino's near-by water fountain, and the water had progressed up the tunic and through into my jeans and then into my pants.

Oh, well chuff and bother! I retreated to the bedroom to use the hairdryer to dry myself out. I was still muttering a bit about this 'write your dream' stuff, because how do I know what my dream is? I'm still thinking it would be quite nice to be a hermit and grow herbs. But as I stood at the window, blasting hot air upon my soggy nethers, that massive hare dashed across the field, and I swear it turned and looked at me, and gave a knowing smile. My spirit companions definitely giggled. 

If I hadn't gone to fetch a new notebook, I wouldn't have dangled in Bambino's water fountain, then I wouldn't have gone to blow dry my pants, and not looked out of the window and seen the hare. 

The Universe is good at ordering itself so events happen at the right time for the right reason. It might not seem obvious at the time, and sometimes it might seem downright counter-intuitive and obtuse, but really, the Universe does know best and the sooner us humans stop railing against it, the better.

My message validated, then, I set about writing my dream.

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