The Trouble With Angels Part 2 and Have You Ever Missed A Message Like Dropping A Fly Ball In Left Field?

IF ENLIGHTENMENT COMES WITH THE TERRITORY OF HAVING HAD CONTACT WITH AN ANGEL, HOW DOES THIS IMPOSE UPON US, ON THE RECEIVING END?

I THINK I'M ENLIGHTENED, BUT THAT MAY MEAN THAT THE OPPOSITE HOLDS TRUE!

     I don't think there is any way of admitting you have had a visit from an angel, that won't inspire looks of disbelief, and comments garnered, in casual conversation, like, "Yeah, right, and I saw Big Foot!" We are still not as open minded as we might believe ourselves, when it comes to visits with heaven-sent messengers.
     I was sitting in my chair, second cup of coffee in hand, facing the window, that overlooks the wild, peaceful Birch-Hollow gardens, this morning, noticing, because a large clump of vegetation was missing, that a deer had dropped by earlier for a flower-snack (liking what we grow there), and I was daydreaming about this alleged liaison I once had, with, I suppose, my Guardian angel. (You can archive back to yesterday's blog, "The Trouble with Angels, for part one). I have never once doubted that my angel dream, experienced after a vile illness, when I was about six years of age, was real to me, as delusional as I might have been during the ups and downs of a fevered event. The dream would now be at least fifty-four years old, yet I can still recall it as clearly now, as the moment I woke up, and thought myself lucky to be alive, and feeling much better in the physical sense. As I pointed out yesterday, I've been dissatisfied with one aspect of my angel-dream, and that has to do with what it mean, in the heavenly sense. Did the visit herald my bodily strength to fight off the infection? Did the angel embed herself in my dream as a messenger, to let me know God had no opening for a kid like me, at that moment, and that I should live awhile longer, kicking along this mortal coil? When I read in a book, written solely about the angel-kind, that any liaison with an angel, creates in the witness, a lifelong enlightenment, that can never be diminished as experience, I did pause for a moment, wondering what the heck that meant. It certainly explains why I have never forgotten about this dream, from more than a half century ago. But, truth is, it was such a beautiful, sensory stimulating, soothing, peaceful, incredible experience, why would I ever want to forget it? I'm just not sure whether it has been incumbent upon me for all these years, to be spreading the word about the good graces of God, and the caring and kindness of Guardian angels! Was it the case that I was to spend the rest of my natural life, from the age of six, living much as the reclaimed Ebeneezer Scrooge, in Charles Dickens' book, "A Christmas Carol," who had been visited by three spirits, who taught him to be a better human being. I wondered if by six years of age, God had already thought I'd be hell bent, as a future Scrooge, and opted to strike early, to get me back on the track of good citizenship.
     What struck me spiritually, I suppose most of all, regarding my own liaison, was the sensory perception of the dreamland experience. I saw a painting yesterday, Suzanne had found online, showing a person sitting-up in bed, looking way up toward the ceiling, where an angel was hovering with arms open, as if to welcome the individual to rise and make the journey heavenward. Initially, it reminded me of the last moments of my father Ed's life, when, in a deluded state, he kept raising his arms, with eyes wide open. looking toward the ceiling of his hospital room, much as a child would perform in body language, asking to be picked up. Son Robert and I tried to ease poor Ed, but even if his hands had been tied to the bed rails, he would have struggled to raise them to whatever he saw in the upper corner of the room. Might it have been the bright light of an angel, sent to assist him make the transition from the living to the afterlife? Before this, I had asked my mother, Merle, who had passed a few years earlier, to please come and help Ed cross over. Was it Merle in spirit form, showing herself to my father, or was it an angel, or just a beautiful, alluring, pain easing light? Rob and I watched in amazement, as he studied on this part of the room, even though he had no focus or interest in his family gathered at bedside. The painting looked as if the artist had experienced the same kind of event, the patient looking up at the angel visitor with great expectation. No matter how many times we put his arms back at his side, in an attempt to calm him down, he would, with very little strength left in his body, raise his arms again to greet whatever or whoever he was witnessing above the bed.
     Now if I was to explain, that the illustration of the patient in bed, looking up at the angel, also reminded me of my own dream, the one I'd experienced as a six year old, with my parents sitting at my bedside until the fever broke, was remarkably similar to what I recalled of the dream, might that seem more credible? What was strange to me, more than the fellow in the bed, and the angel hovering over top, was the sight-line from the mortal to the immortal. I studied it for a long time, and immediately understood it to be the same representation of elevation, and viewing angle, as to what I had experienced, with my father in the hospital room, and what I sensed in my own angel dream. I felt a chill at that moment, and it helped inspire some additional recollections of the moment in the angel's company. I wonder if anyone, in the paranormal community, has ever followed-up on this type of information; one being, the degree by which a mortal looks up at a heavenly messenger, and secondly, what is the frequency of terminally ill patients, who similarly raise their arms, or stare upwards just prior to death, by the same degree, presumably looking at the bright light from this same area of a room? Might this be the kind of detail, which suggests there is more to passing away, that the final breath? If one subscribes to the theory, that the human spirit crosses-over, after death, is it possible, an angel helps with the transition? I get lost easily, even in shopping malls, so I suppose there are a lot of souls needing to be directed to their final destinations.
     When I began watching John Edward's television show, "Crossing Over," I couldn't believe how validated I felt, to find out that it's really okay, and validating, to talk to dead people. Since a very young age, I have been highly prone to spirit encounters, and messages from the other side, but to admit this, even to my parents, would have encouraged them to afford therapy, for me and themselves. Possibly, this is the enlightenment the angel gave me at around six years of age; that I would be able to sense the energy possessed by those who had crossed over, and those on the brink. I have had strange dreams about people I have known on a casual basis, from social situations, and through my employment with the regional media, who didn't make it through the night-time liaison alive. I would dream these people died. It wasn't the case that everyone who made guest appearances met with the same fate. The ones in casualty situations, such as car nightmarish accidents, did in fact perish, in the not too distant future. Odd thing though. Never once as a parallel to what I had dreamt about. I have always thought these dream encounters were particularly weird, even for a guy who talks with dead people, during the daylight hours. I'd wake up in the morning, after one of these startling encounters, shake my head, check my body for all its faculties, reassess the journey I had taken in dreamland, and first of all, having awful heartburn, swear off having tomato juice before bed ever again; because of the nightmares it might well have fostered. For many decades now, I've been troubled, by what seem to be "death dreams," yet honestly, as far as being visionary, I would put myself a million miles distant from being considered clairvoyant in any significant way. A medium. No way. At least as far as I can detect in self examination. You're probably better able to predict the future than me. When I would later read that these people had died, all of them shortly after dreaming about them, sure, it felt terrible and in some cases, I started to dread dreams altogether. Seeing as there's no way to control them, or minimize what they might bring forth in night terrors, I have just learned to minimize them altogether, and discount any messages they might prevail upon me, that someone, who starred in my dream the night before, might soon perish.
     Is this the enlightenment the book was referring to, when I looked up what it meant, to be the subject of an angel dream? Could I detect the imminent arrival of the grim reaper? I sure hope not, and honestly, I have written it off, for many years, as nothing more than a coincidence. It works for awhile. But then I think back to the death-dreams I've had in the past, and I'm not so sure any more, that there isn't something to it all, I should know more about. I don't think I want a medium to confirm this for me, because then I fear it would become far more than just bad dreams. Consider if I started believing this stuff, and told the people I had dreamt about, in a negative way, that they should whittle down their bucket list, and start living on the wild side right away. Gosh, what if I was wrong, and the individual went and cheated on his or her spouse, spent all their retirement savings, sold the house for half the value, and bought a Chopper, to relive the adventure started by Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper, in "Easy Rider?" I already hate having these dreams, so there's no way I'm going to feel good about telling folks they've got one foot on a banana skin, and then finding out I had misread the vision?
     I have told this story many times, but it does remind me, of what the whole scope of what enlightenment might entail, according to the alleged heavenly plan. When I was living in the former home of Dr. Peter McGibbon, on the upper end of Manitoba Street, in Bracebridge, one of the most spiritually active homes I've ever known, I had an encounter, on a dark staircase, with what I believe was, in all my sensory capacity to know, a spirit that was in the process of crossing over. I had been working at my typewriter, in the large attic room, of the three story house, looking out over the tree lined Memorial Park, and its illuminated bandshell; and shortly after midnight, I had been winding my way down the narrow staircase, that took me to my tiny bedroom, situated on the ground floor, at the back of the old house. When I got to the landing of the second floor, I had to step into the vacant apartment on that level, to extinguish the light outside the bathroom, which I had purposely left on to help me navigate my way down. There was not working light in the three level staircase in the one part of the house that had never been upgraded.
     When I would come out of the second story apartment, and take the few customary steps onto the landing, to then continue my descent to the ground floor, I would have the light from downstairs, to guide me the rest of the way. There were a few steps however, that were in total darkness, until I could get onto the staircase once again, where light from below provided at least minor illumination. Before I could get to the landing, I walked into a brilliant white fog that soon enveloped me, for a short period of time. It had a reminiscent odour, which I believe reminded me of my angel dream, and it felt as if I had just walked into a cold spring mist, momentarily blinding with its brightness. In fact, I stopped, because to carry on, could have meant I would fall down the stairs. I had no choice, but to endure the experience, and let it pass over me, before I could mount any exit strategy. There was no light source in that area, between where I had turned off the light, and the landing above the rest of the stairs leading down to the ground floor. When this fog and white light passed over me, and the blackness returned, I moved quickly to get down to the bottom, away from whatever energy force I had come in contact with, in the back of that apartment. I wasn't scared by the encounter, as much as I was disturbed, by the way the air current was hitting me, when I sat for a moment on the bottom stair, trying to contemplate the experience in its entirety. Apparently, the spirit source, if that's what it was, had more handiwork to deploy. Consider the fact, that the furnace was directly below where I was sitting, opposite a vent, and it was in mid winter, on a cold, cold night. The hot air should have been rising instead. I was getting a blast of cold air coming down the staircase, and it forced me to move, because I assumed it was the spirit coming back down from an attic visit.
     Two days later, with this experience still fresh in my mind, I met a group of people while tending our antique shop, in the front rooms of the old house, who were commenting on their own, about the way the rooms had been set up, when they had visited the home as kids. It's when I noticed they were dressed in suits and the ladies in black dresses, and had obviously just attended a funeral. A relative, who had once owned the McGibbon house, in its succession of owners, had passed away on the night I had witnessed the apparition on the back staircase. Coincidence? Could it have been a folly of over-active imagination? A lighting phenomenon on the back stairs? Believe me, I tried to rule out ghost-sighting, but simply couldn't, based on evidence of the moment and circumstance of my encounter. Is it possible, that my brand of enlightenment, afforded by the angel visit, I had experienced as a child, had given me the capability to sense a roaming spirit; one possibly re-visiting all the places it had once dwelled in life, as a sort of final reckoning of mortality, and the places mortals dwell? Who knows? I bet an angel does?