Angels

Angels, Meditation

Intimacy

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He slowly circles around me and speaks the words for me to write down. Simply. One sentence, just for me to reflect upon and put into action some way in the future. He will be the one to converse with me.

His eyes are so bright with several points of light, somehow reflecting, or emanating from within. I turn away. They are too intense for me to look into. He knows this and mostly keeps his head to the side.

He is so intimate with me, brushing my hair to the side and tracing his fingers over my shoulders as he bends down and hovers his cheek next to mine to whisper in my ear. This, I believe, is just to get me to listen attentively. We humans are so driven by our desire for closeness. It is extremely effective and entrancing, lulling me further into the meditation.

I now look forward to seeing him every morning and have to force myself not to make it into a personal call, but messages that I should try not to change with my mind so as to write down here. I hope he remains, but I know better than to anticipate this blessing allowed from the Divine. I thank the Divine.

Angels, Meditation

Listen to the silence

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“Listen”

I heard you. It is time for me to listen. This writing will stop for a while, or will take an entirely different course as I sit and listen.

“Listen”

I could see you walking a slow circle around me in your long, pale, blue-white robe. Arms behind your back, looking down at me. Your hands brushing my shoulders, lifting my hair, your breath on my neck. I could see that face of yours again, the one I still doubt I saw, but you look the same. Sublimely beautiful, and always having the slightly impish look of a grin, like you know the answer to some big joke, and are anticipating when I will also get the punch line.

“Listen to the silence between the noises.”

You are waiting for me.

“Listen”

Angels, Meditation

Call to Meditaiton

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The winds that rock the house today are not the Chinook Winds that had come last year about this time. They are too cool for that and too blustery. I don’t feel the steady warmth and calm that they bring, however, I know that this is a personal signal, or tap on the head, to quiet the mind within it.

I was told to listen this morning, in no uncertain terms. I heard him clearly again, my angel, and was even granted a slow vision of him. I suppose I did not dream that up several weeks ago when I saw him. I believe I also heard his name much earlier on, Auriel. If only conveyed to me at the time, I at least do not have to call him angel anymore. So I let that one stick, even though I believe it to be a common name given to an angel and could be made up by my imagination.

I realize now that this past year has given me a chance to allow my noisy thoughts to come out on the page. It is so difficult for a human to truly shut up and remain silent throughout the day. These writings have given me the chance to learn, and what I have learned is that one cannot listen if not silencing themselves, not only in voice, but thoughts as well. I find it interesting that I said these words almost two weeks ago. I was ready to listen.

This time is like the last time that Auriel came to me, asking me if I was ready to write. He smiled at me so warmly, and somewhat, what I can’t describe as anything other than mischievously. He knows something I don’t, obviously, but the knowing extends to what I believe to be another understanding of truth within these next months, or a year, of meditation. I am not afraid to take on this next task.

He comes to me, and behaves so intimately with me, that I am relaxed into a state of submission, but submission is not the right word, that insinuates strength over me on his part. This is not the case, has never been, nor will it ever be. I suppose the best I could describe it would be a melting into him, which results in a floaty feeling. It is light, not overwhelming, close, easy to contact, touch. He is allowed to touch me, however I am not allowed to reach out and touch him. These are not human feelings of intimacy. They are supernatural. They do not apply to the human experience and pleasure, in a sense, also does not apply.

I am not sure how this next assignment will change the course of my writings, if they are necessary at all, or how it will change me. I can only remain open to it. I have taken steps to better myself as a person, and as I go along, now in prayer, I will continue to take steps further as I can. There is a great deal of perseverance required.

There is a certain degree of excitement for this turn of events. Just last night I was so heartbroken by feeling our Creator retreat. I am thinking, which I will stop doing now, that He might remain in the background once again, like when this all started in July. My angel was there to inspire me, help me, but God was not so close.

I have been feeling anxiety about not understanding any sort of calling, but can feel the change this morning, a calling, yes, felt and heard quite literally. My mornings are now decided for me as I sit and simply contemplate.

Angels, The Fallen One

Timidity

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I am still shaken by the vision I had last week. I have not been able to bring myself closer to God or my angel. I have left them for a while. The vision itself was not frightening. He was the most sublimely beautiful being I have ever seen. The fear afterwards was real however.

I feel timid. I have erected some lame walls to keep God out. I have turned my back on my angel. It may have been too much to witness. I feel like a tiny bug that can be squashed by these beings, and thrown out from heaven forever. Such insignificant, weak mortals that we are.

I am ever so carefully creeping back out of my hole in the ground to talk to him again. I don’t wish to see him though. I seem to think that I am so far along I can handle the Divine up close. Foolish. I was snapped out of my own reality so fast, and so strongly, it drove me as far away as I could get for this past week. There is a reason why angels do not reveal themselves to humans.

Angels, The Fallen One

A Vision ~

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I saw him last night. I turned my head on the pillow just as I was falling off to sleep and had a vision of what he looks like revealed to me. It was similar to the time I saw an angel sitting at the foot of my father’s bed. This was much clearer though. Vision is not the right word however. The right word translated would be something like, “The way he communicated his appearance to me.”

He has very strong features, large pale blue eyes, long slightly turned up nose, and a wide mouth that abruptly curls up at the corners, giving the impression of a very wide smile. And smile he did. That is the image I have now etched into my memory. He smiled at something I said to him in my mind and he laughed at it. His high cheekbones lifted, and his sharp jaw etched even more definition into the picture of him. As he laughed, he turned his head to the side and I could see his profile. It was masculine but refined in a way that is not common in the human sense. He turned back to me and when I looked at him I was awestruck.

He was painfully beautiful. Like all of Bernini’s angels combined. He looked just different enough for me to think that he was not solely of my imagination. His eyes were the palest blue, and so large, and deep-set that they almost looked like a caricature. They reflected several points of light that did not exist in the darkness of the room. His hair was neither long nor short, but it never stopped moving. The loose curls a mess of silver, and grey, and sandy blonde, not an actual color at all. His skin was very fair, and the pale-bluish light that surrounded him reflected upon it.

St. Theresa describes how one such vision was revealed to her, a tiny bit at a time. She felt that was a favor, because everything all at once would have been overwhelming. I too only saw his eyes first, the rest of his face was blurry. Then I saw his smile, and when he turned his head from directly looking upon mine, his nose and jawline. He was constantly shifting, coming into clarity and then becoming obscured, a soft mist of light concealing his features while I focused on one at a time.

It wasn’t a vision that lasted the blink of an eye. It seemed to last for a bit, in a dreamy state of knowing, and sublime recognition of each other. Perhaps he could see me more clearly this way. I was drawn in and wished to touch him to further the experience, though I couldn’t, I was stunned with the reality. He did reach out to me before he faded. He brushed the left side of my face and I tried to reach for his hand but he was not there. Just a feeling once again.

* Read, “St. Theresa of Avila- autobiography (Dover) ch. 28.” It is very important to note that this experience, or vision, occurred before I read anything about any type, or any explanation of visions in a book. 

Angels, Letters to The Divine
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All is quiet now… I miss You, but I will wait. I am not alone after all. You have given me one of Your own to comfort and guide me. Sometimes it is enough just to be in his company. Sleeping closely, soundly, effortlessly.

Angels, Author's Notes
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I’m very, very dizzy now. Thank’s Auriel. I know I asked for help with writing “A Very Secret Gift” but now I feel I can’t even go walk the dog.

Angels, Author's Notes
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The second sign is a great calm and a devout and peaceful recollection which dwell in the soul together with a desire to praise God. They say that communications, at any rate in this mansion are not uttered directly by God but are transmitted by an angel.
– St. Theresa of Avila

Angels

Feeling peace, feeling grace

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What is the difference between connecting with the Divine and connecting with my angel? I should write about this. I will need to remember it some day. I hope I don’t.

My first encounter with my angel was straightforward. It was as if… when you’re in a natural state, and your eyes are closed, you can still feel if a person were to walk up and stand behind you. Like when you wake up in the morning, and before you open your eyes you know the person who fell asleep next to you is still there. It was tranquil. It was light. It was an understanding, but the feeling of peace was separate from me. There was a dividing line. Even though I could almost feel his breath on my neck, the air was mine itself, and his for himself.

Things are quite different with the Divine. I said before that it was frightening. It still can be, but I am starting to grasp what the relationship is. I don’t feel like He is always watching, even though I am told He is. He feels distant until He doesn’t. It’s odd, it seems as though He sits back and allows His angel to handle things until the moment that I am supposed to understand. It feels random. I don’t understand.

When He decides to step into my world, I feel heady, numb, cloudy and confused. We are completely blended, overlapping to where I cannot find any edges at all. I feel very strongly in love. At that time, I can offer myself up to do anything for Him. I would gladly die for Him, but that is just to keep the feeling. I know I am not anywhere near the sort of faith that statement requires. The feeling is so sublime though it’s addictive. I believe anyone would do anything to experience it.

It is important to make this one distinction though, the real difference between angels and the Divine, how I know what I am writing to be true. When my angel decides, or may be told to leave my side for a while, I simply feel him retreat into the background. What I need to convey, is that if I choose to address him, if I ask anything of him, although he may or may not answer me at that time, he is available. He is still near.

However, when God retreats, I am left in so much pain, and worry, and self-doubt that I feel madness inside. I have to console myself with reading what others have told me, 15th century monks and nuns who have logged their knowledge on the subject. I try to be strong, but I end up begging my angel to comfort me and tell me everything is alright. He reassures me. Again, close by, the difference between the two.

I may be completely off about this. This might be all in my imagination, but I have to write it down. Maybe some day it will all make sense to me. For now, I at least know what to do. I ask my angel for help, for practical things. I ask forgiveness of God. I thank my angel for being there. I supplicate before the Divine for even turning His eye upon me.

Angels

Mistaken?

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I Have taken some days off to read and reflect on my experiences. Maybe I am wrong about my angel. Maybe the feelings of peace are coming from God Himself and not from him. I was told he was an intermediary. He was there to put my fears of Our Creator in the back of my mind until I would not drag them up, not feel them anymore.

I am no longer terrified of Him. I understand that the state I was in before, the state of not feeling Him at all is fading, however, He is also fading. The loss of the sweet state of grace has me worried. What if He leaves me? What if He allows me to become the horrible version of myself that I was before? What if I am plunged back into the terrifying world that almost took my life? By my readings of the other mystics I am reassured that He will not let that happen, or not do that to me.

The more I study the more my experience is confirmed. I read, my mind wanders, then I turn a page and the words are so real that it shocks me! I am not alone in this, unfortunately the ones I can compare this to have long passed on from this world. I just keep reading, then come over here and write. I could write all day, then my mind gets exhausted and I have to stop. I am told to stop. Now that is a voice from my angel.

I now think that he is the one to speak to me verbally. He simply directs. I hear very clearly, “Stop,” “Shhh,” “It’s okay,” “Trust me…” The words are so clear, tangible, and I can feel him standing beside me when I hear them. I know that it is him. However the state of complete relaxation, the almost numbness I have felt, is still a question for me. I do know that any conversations I have running through my head are purely imagination. I also know what it feels like to have the evil one manipulating me. Although sometimes not soon enough, I still catch on.