Dear Curious Friends
Have you ever stopped to ponder how amazing it is that we have the freedom to question things?
The freedom to buck the norm and instead embrace living life in the way that suits us?
The wording buck a sign of synchronicity, tonight is the buck full moon and a post will follow later. Today’s guidance layer. So pay heed.
We are blessed to live in a time where no one tells us who to love, where to live or what career to have. Not only are we free in those ways.
We are also free to get curious.
To dive deeper and question everything.
I would never be where I am today if not for that freedom and that curiosity.
My journey with spirit world, source, consciousness….Yes for Zowie it began with getting curious about my friend Mary.
She was around from early in my life. My first memory was her telling me I shouldn’t climb in my brothers cot. That I had to be careful as I…well nudged him to the bottom of the cot and climbed in to sleep with him. I was 3 ish. It was dark. My Mum had taken me to bed and stayed with me til I fell asleep.
I was always woken in the night. It was dark, times before night lights. I knew I was not alone in the room, it was dark. I do not remember being afraid….but that I had to be near another human. So….my baby brother got company.
I know this happened for a number of nights, weeks even. I remember my Mum telling me I must stay in my bed, I remember her saying she would sleep with me and that there was nothing to be afraid of.
I do not remember how the cycle was broken. It was more a subtle wearing out. A subtle washing away. A human conditioning, to be compliant with the known and accepted template.
Mary. She came at night first thats all I remember. She then became my friend.
I was about 4 when I saw adults looking at adults if Mary was mentioned.
A time my Mum had set the table for tea. In this house we ate at a table which had four chairs. The table was at the back of the long living room, and an arch way to the left into the kitchen. Today we would call it modern open plan living. My Dad was ahead of the times with design.
Teatime was between 5 and 5.30pm. Always.
I was called to tea. As I sat, I asked ‘where will Mary sit?’
My Mum looked at my Dad. I see it now clearly. Then I paid little attention. ‘Mary has to go home for tea, you can play tomorrow’ said my Mum.
Then I remember not long after. My Nan and Grandad. We used to go to their house for a Sunday roast.
I loved going. I loved driving up to the house. The side track to the right of it. It was here my love and affinity resonated with the willow tree. I adore them. Feel safe with them. Even now, if I need to feel safe in my mind I take myself back to my Nan and Grandads house. I stand outside in their cul-de-sac and I step to the right. And I stand under the willow. Its branches like cords of love and safety. And I turn and I face out. Often it rains, even storms. And I stand. I clear and I overcome what I need to in that moment. My lovely willow.
Their house, well was a grandparents house. To a little girl everything was bigger, had greater distance between rooms and boundaries. The ornaments, the furniture was…well my grandparents. The smell….clean, and air freshners mixed with the taint of tobacco. Both had been avid smokers since the war.
Both had begun to give up…but my Nan still smoked a few and my Grandad had switched to a pipe.
He had a chair in the corner. And his pipe stuff by the side.
He played music on his record player when we visited. He loved of all things an album of bird songs. Again…here I heard my first messages in birds words. Everyone listened to his new album with respectful interest for about….30 seconds. I get it. There was no words. Just birds singing to music. He loved it. I stayed in the front room with him and we danced.
As we danced he would mimick the noises. Again unknown to him and I then, a sound made and a calling then I began awakening came first. Came hard, fast, consistent and strong. No matter where I was in the world. Whether that bird be native or not. The sound would come. Would follow me. He created our sign, one that then my team in spirit harnessed once he has passed away….and it was time. I was being called.
My Grandad was there at the very beginning. Even though neither of us were humanely aware. Has been instrumental in all my steps with spirit. At the age of 4 I just didn’t realise of course.
My Nan cooked an amazing Sunday roast. Not better than my Mums, different. They were both great cooks.
How we ever ate Sunday lunch at 12.30pm…I will never know. But we did. With bread and butter on the side. And homemade crumble for dessert. Gooseberry crumble. They had a gooseberry bush. I have never had one since. But I know it tasted amazing.
We sat to lunch. The table was for 6. That’s us 4, my sister was not born yet, and my Nan and Grandad. I asked my Grandad where Mary would sit.
My Mum looked at my Nan. Her eyes with words of ‘see…’
‘Next to you Zo, next to you’ said my Grandad. I nodded and smiled. Everyone picked up their cutlery, and went to tuck in to their dinner.
‘We have to say Grace’ I said. Everyone paused. My Grandad smiled, and rested his fork and knife on each side of his plate. Which he used to do in between mouthfuls, whilst resting his hands clasped across his middle as his elbows rested on the chair arms.
‘OK’ he said. ‘Teach us what to say’
I put my elbows on the table, clasped my hands together bowed my head to my hands and closed my eyes.
I repeated what we had been taught at school to say before lunch everyday.
‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful, Amen’
From that day forth I never sat at a table with my Grandad where he did not say and make everyone join in, grace. Our religion…gratitude.
I see that clearly now also. No matter what, there is always always something to be grateful for. Those moments can take away or dull the pain of more difficult moments. Find gratitude always.
Stopping. Taking a moment. The freedom to choose to be thankful.
Like my Willow I am many branches with many dropping leaves. Each with curiosities to be explored, questions to be asked. To dive deeper to explore EVERYTHING.
Mary….you wonder, ponder. Yes, I saw her. Heard her. Felt her. Knew her.
No one else around me did. Simply over time I was conditioned. Mary as a visual disappeared.
Spirit…my team…others for others…well for years to come they morphed into what my human allowed.
They became a part of me. My head, my thoughts, my feelings, my knowings. It was comfortable.
Yet unexplored. Potential uncovered.
As it was meant. For my human was experience it this way. So be it.
To be it now, then had to so be it.
A time came, when the callings the signs the need to dive deeper came. Another story another day.
Freedom. Curiosity. Is yours. You live in a time that you are free to choose your thoughts, your learnings, your explorations.
Sometimes that leads to getting uncomfortable with yourself as a person.
I force myself to examine my motivations and beliefs that drive my behaviors and reactions. I have to sit in what I have discovered and decide whether it is a truth I want to hold onto or if I need to start digging and unearth a different, healthier truth. Today updug Mary.
I thought she was and wasn’t. Today I see she is. Always.
Digging, Yes, that can be a difficult journey but freedom usually comes at a cost. I’d rather have to deal with that difficulty than to be forced to believe truths that don’t resonate with me and my beliefs.
There is so much more. For you. For all.
Today celebrate your freedoms.
Find your freedoms and get curious, maybe that sits here…..or there. No rules.
You are free to choose remember?
Mary sends her love.