~ Spirit Talks ~
We are all born “plugged in” to Spirit. Like a space satellite, Spirit is always beaming greater information to earth, but are we tuning in? Are we listening to Spirit talk?
Nature is a reliable way to begin to tune into Spirit Talk--this greater information beaming our way. Being in nature has its unique way of slowing us down--beckoning forth our Spirit Selves--and opening us to that world of information which is unavailable to our busy ego selves.
It’s important to recognize that Nature is “everywhere”. We don’t have to have a park, meadow or forest in our backyard to tune into Nature. Nature can be a houseplant, the ladybug crawling across your window screen, your dog or a gentle breeze. What’s important is that we take notice--we TUNE IN and LISTEN--listen with our inner ear, our eyes, fingertips, toes, our hearts--with our “inner tuning” mechanism, activating the Spirit within.
Now, more than ever, it’s important to take guidance from Spirit--to tap into that dimension of reliable information that can and will support us maneuvering successfully through our crumbling world and into a new paradigm. Tuning into our ever-present Spirit guidance is what will make a critical difference at this critical time.
Nature has always been a vital means for me to commune with Spirit. Following is a variety of ways Spirit talks to me…
Grandmother Flower
Have You Shared Your Flowers Today?
My grandmother has been “radar-ing in” since late spring. I first recognized her presence through continually “being shown” flowers, her flowers—bouquets of them. “Ok, dear grandmother, spirit-being that you are, I’m listening. What message does your energy hold for me?” I ask…and then listen carefully.
My grandmother, gone for almost 40 years, was stern and seemingly cold and distant, a widow who ruled her four daughters with an iron fist, even on her deathbed. She never played with her five grandchildren, never had much to say to us, but she did odd little things for us, that revealed she cared. Flowers are what my grandmother did for me.
When I was seven my family relocated a couple hours drive from her. Weekend visits were common. Always, immediately prior to our departure, the sweetest of rituals, my grandmother would grab her old, worn kitchen knife with its cracked wooden handle, head for her flower garden and proceed to cut a big bouquet of flowers—zinnias, bachelor buttons, Shasta daisies, strong scented peonies, lilacs, cosmos, a few pink roses, whatever was at hand. She’d hand the bouquet unceremoniously to me with the stem ends wrapped in wet newspaper, then waxed paper, and finally a bit of knotted string. I’d hold the bouquet firmly in my hands, completely lost in the scent and colors (and unknowingly the intense vibrational energy that flowers afford) until we arrived home. From there, I’d separate the bouquet into small bunches—being mindful to harmonize colors—put each bunch in a designated vase and spread the vases around the house—as I’ve continued to do throughout my life. ... Continue Reading
