Friday, 5 August 2022

Shooting star

 I first published this post earlier in the week but then I took it down because I thought it was so awful. I’ve now decided to publish it anyway, good or bad. It was what I wrote at the time.

I would also like to thank my very old friend B (old in the sense that I’ve known her a long long time), with whom I spoke on the telephone last night for the first time in decades, for expressing an interest in my mad metaphysical ideas and saying that she read and liked the blog. Perhaps I’ll inflict my novel on her next . . .

 


As you might have gathered by now, if you’ve read this blog before*, it’s my metaphysical beliefs and experiences that are getting me through the months since Frog’s death in January and giving me hope for the future. Among these are:


-We live more than one life.

-We meet again those souls that are important to us.

-There is relevance to everything that happens and we can learn from it.

-On a higher plane that we’re not necessarily aware of, we choose everything that happens to us. We’re not victims.

-We create our own future through our imaginations. If we visualise what we want and ask providence for it with total conviction – whatever its downsides – we will get it. As they say, beware of what you ask for!

-The world is made up of matter, energy and meaning. Meaning – sometimes called spirituality - is therefore part of what we are too. We deny it at our peril.


Having said all that, I’m not perfect (sadly) and sometimes the whole edifice crumbles and I’m back in the workaday world, tired, cross and miserable. I’m disconnected. I’m overwhelmed by my hard sceptical self.

Over the weekend I was in that sort of state. None of my prayers was answered. I was lost and alone. In the middle of Sunday night when I couldn’t sleep, I went and sat outside and had a bit of a rant, asking God why s/he had been so quiet lately.


    ‘And I’ve not seen a shooting star for months,’ I complained, shooting stars being something I’ve always seen as messages from God. ‘If only you could send me some sort of proof.’

    I know of course that you can’t ask for proof or chase meaning. They come when they want to, usually when you’re concentrating on something else. So I knew what I was doing was useless. So then I started to cry. I’ve been doing a lot of that over the last few months. In fact, crying is what I do most when I’m alone. I like crying. I know where I am when I cry.

    Cheryl, my tarot teacher, had always said that emotions were the gateway to the soul. They certainly are for me, and unblocking my emotions is part of what I’m learning at the moment.

    Suddenly, to my left, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the streak of a shooting star and in an instant, without me doing anything, and before I’d even thought about what had just happened, I was back. I was me. I was whole. The world was once again alive and beautiful.


As I made my way to bed, full of thanks and relief, I realised not only that God had a sense of humour but that the hard sceptical me was only part of me. She might take over sometimes but that didn’t mean she was right. Surely, I could find a way to deal with her.

To be continued . . .

  

*Hello to my two new followers, soleil and Gail. You are very welcome.


 Notes on the pictures

The cards pictured above come from Cosmic Tarot by Norbert Lösche. This was the pack with which Cheryl taught me how to read tarot cards over twenty years ago. I still use it. Neither of the people on the cards looks like me and there wasn’t a full moon on Sunday night.

I’ve taken the shooting star picture from Google. Thanks to the unnamed copyright owner.

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