One morning last week ... I set out knowing that the day's adventures ... were going to feel like
deja vu. Funny, I know ... premeditated karma ... or something like that.
Coffee ... conversations ... riding together from place to place ... opportunity to opportunity ... with the top down. Laughter ... lots of laughter ... intertwining with the plotting ...
the plans ... the dreams.
It felt like old times & it was re-assuring to discover that some of those things ... weren't really imaginary ... after all. The more things change ... the more they stay the same.
I found comfort in that.
This time, the boundaries ... will be the fences ... that have replaced so many of my walls.
The temperature soared over 100 degrees outside, so it became necessary to put the top up in order to remain fresh into the afternoon. Top up ... windows shut ... a/c on.
No possible way for a natural breeze to reach inside.
It must have been the winds of change ... that carried the little feather ... leaving it on the floorboard ... over there on the passenger side ... that had been vacated hours before.
A simple black feather.
It startled me ... when I glanced over and saw it resting on the floor mat. And I wondered ... how in the world ... did it get there?!?!
How in the world, indeed.
I figured that surely it must have blown in while the top was down.
Under my breath, I was humming along ... to a song that wasn't on the radio ... hearing the words ... as if spoken ... directly to me. I replayed the afternoon ... from the time the top was put up ... to the deployment of my passenger ... to right that very minute.
There was no way possible ... that the little feather had been there ... undetected.
I left it there for the rest of the day ... undisturbed. Later in the evening, I took a picture of it ... thinking I would post it on Facebook to see what kind of response I got. I know I have at least one friend there who has some feather awareness.
But then ... for some reason ... I didn't. I kept it to myself.
Of course, I did do a little bit of online research .. to satisfy my inquiring mind.
A feather is one way angels try to get your attention. A black feather is a sign of a stronger attempt to reach you.
Feathers, in general, indicate ascension to a higher spiritual plane. One feather tradition revolves around prayer. In Christianity,
feathers represent virtues ... such as ... faith ... hope ... love.
Hold the phone! Faith, Hope & Love. Really?!?
My three little angel bears ... that sit in my kitchen window on their tiny little porch swing ... have been vying for my attention for over a week! First they turned their little swing around ... so that they were perched there with their backs to me. Then when I tried to readjust the strings holding the swing ... one of them frayed completely ... dumping Faith, Hope & Love ... unceremoniously into the sink.
It was an awkward moment. I wasn't sure what to make of it ... even though I know that the age of the swing & its strings make it totally believeable that it was just something that happened ... naturally.
The three little angel bears ... have a story of their own. They showed up one year ... in the mid 90s ... on the front seat of my car ... on my birthday. Three sweet pastel bears with satin rosebuds on their collars ... angel wings intact ... tags attached declaring their names.
A plain card was across their laps. "Faith. Hope. Love. These ARE you! Happy Birthday!"
Finding them there ... was one of those awe & wonder moments ... that take your breath away.
It was obviously a gift from someone who knew me well ... knew that I have always collected bears ... and that angels have been given to me since birth ... when my father declared me his ...
angel fluff.
Years have passed ... and the mystery is still unsolved. Those who would seem the most likely suspects ... have admitted time after time .... that they
wished it was them ... who had surprised me with such a special gift ... but it wasn't.
The little swing didn't come with the bears. I found it on my own. But for well over a decade Faith, Hope & Love have been a-swingin' in my kitchen windows ... and now they've bailed on me.
Let go of the past ... was the first thing that came to mind when it happened. Just now it occurred to me that maybe they are simply longing for a new window ... with a different view.
According to legend, when you find a black feather, it means that your guardian angel is near you. The feather is supposed to remind you that you are not fighting the battles of life alone
A presence ... is present.
Last weekend, on two separate occasions, I was alone in a room in my house while others were elsewhere ... when I strongly felt that I wasn't alone in the room ... that someone was waiting patiently and quietly for me to acknowledge them. Turning ... I fully expected to see one of the others in the house standing there.
Both times. I was alone.
Another entry suggested that black feathers relate more to the soul than other feather colors ... and that finding one indicates that you are entering a new level of spiritual awareness.
And there was this one that caused me to raise an eyebrow ... Native Americans say black feathers are an invitation to send a spiritual message for help or answers. Which really means ... pray.
It's certainly in keeping with all of the little tickles of the last couple of weeks ... the not-so-subtle insinuations that is God waiting with the answers ... on me ... to ask the question.
Angels are often sent to help us. Because we have free will, they cannot step in to help unless we ask.
That's what the next source offered up.
I wonder, could it be that simple? A bolder... more deliberate nudge ... for me to ask the question ... because God is waiting to reveal the answers?
At Signs of Angels, Karen Borga has a video on
Receiving Black Feathers From Angels. Watching it, I was reminded that technology today allows anyone ... who has the desire ... to be a celebrity expert ... about something. Don't they know that staring into the camera ... unprepared & rambling for more than 5 minutes ... really isn't a great way to convey information?!?
I only lasted about 2.5 minutes but did come away with this insight. Karen says that a black feather is a sign that some situations are coming up that are going to change you at a soul level.
And that your angels are letting you know that they are with you ... that they have your back.
That's especially reassuring. I am pretty sure that once the answers come ... the what's-coming-next that I've been waiting on ... is going to wash over my life like a monsoon ... rushing me forward ... even if I find that I am not
really ready.
Another source put it this way ....
a black feather is a gift to let you know that someone close
to you perhaps even as a child is present and
watching over you.
Interesting. Verrrrrry in-ter-esting!
More Friday nights than not, I play cards with a group of friends. It's been going on now for several months. These are new friends ... who have no connection to my past. Well, one does in a round about way ... but that's not part of this story.
Card night is held at the home of our host couple. The play is lively and competitive. The husband is particularly focused ... he takes winning very seriously. Time has proven that I am a skilled opponent & a worthy adversary.
It keeps things interesting.
Pretty much, we all sit in the same chairs each time. And he labels the score columns with our first initials ... in order ... beginning with the player on his left.
Friday night ... the cards weren't coming his way. It wasn't me that was getting them. But I always sit on his right ... so his cards are often coming through my hand. And I am always the ONE he wants to beat.
Intense as the play often gets ...it's a friendly, casual game ... with lots & lots of distractions ... and breaks. After returning from one of those breaks, he began a fresh score sheet for the next game.
As the cards were being dealt, I glanced over and noticed that in the first two columns were the initials of the other two players as usual. In our columns ... it was obvious by the number of letters ... that "names" were written.
Above his column was WINNER. Of course. That's what he wrote there. Declaring the victory in advance. My column header was something else. It was a compound word ... S____H____.
Even though it wasn't SweetHeart ... I knew that it was a term of endearment. And more importantly, it let me know that over time I had been accepted as a friend.
I waited to point it out ... until mid-way through the game. It was good for a laugh all around. And maybe it was a good strategy, too ... he DID eventually win the last game of the night.
It was the wee hours of the morning, when I finally got settled somewhere. Sleep wasn't going to happen ... so in the quiet, I opened my mind to pondering the events of the day.
Most of the afternoon had been spent poring over the papers of a former Arkansas governor
... on a treasure hunt ... searching for clues to confirm that what I remembered
about one of my father's stories was actually based on fact ... and not
fiction.
The discovery ... was mind-blowing. What had
always seemed like just another hand poorly played ... turns out to be
an epic case of knowing-when-to-hold-em-and-knowing-when-to-fold-em.
Amongst the papers ... was a well-crafted letter ... about integrity ... and doing the right thing for the greater good ... that was sent as he pushed away from that particular table. I remember later that he told me that what seemed to be just another one of his failed attempts ... was actually his greatest achievement. Time has proven him right.
Discovering that he really & truly was who he said he was ... after all these years ... reminded me again of one of those lessons I learned from playing cards.
A hand well-played ... is far more memorable ... than simply being dealt a winning hand.
I cut my teeth on card games. Lessons in life were learned over hands of spades, hearts, poker, gin rummy ... and a game that one of my high school friends had written on a folded up note that he carried in his wallet.
Strategy. Playing to win. Respecting a worthy opponent.
Thinking back to the card games of my youth ... my mind's eye wandered to the score sheets of my father. Much like my host earlier in the evening, my father always kept score. It somehow made him feel in control of the table.
He had his own style of doing it. Instead of initials at the top of the columns ... he drew icons. Each of us had a special icon that he created uniquely for us. Yet another reminder that ole R.J. was way ahead of his time. He drew personal icons ... before icons were cool.
I don't remember what all of them were ... but mine ... was always a tomato.
A tomato ... that's what he called good looking gals when he was talking to the boys. He never said it ... but my guess is that I was always a TOMATO to remind the boys that even though I was nothing more than a sister to them ... I was still something special ... and beautiful ... to the world.
And dad ...he was ALWAYS ... the black hat. The often misunderstood "bad" guy ... never to be mistaken with the boring, predictable play of the "good" guy.
Wide awake ... in the middle of the night ... I could see the little black hat ... on skads and skads of score sheets. Funny. I haven't thought about those card playing days in a long time. My father ... he's been gone for 27 years.
Did I mention that when I brought the black feather in from the floorboard of the car ... that it wasn't real. It was one of those stiff plastic feathers ... much like the type you would find in a child's Indian headdress ... or something like that.
It has puzzled me all week. There seemed to be some logic to finding a bird's feather in my car ... since I spend so much of the time with the top down. But a fake feather? That does not compute.
Driving later, in the early morning light, those images of the black hat ... on the score sheets ... fluttered through my mind ... once again. It was like when you would draw a picture ... over and over ... on the sheets of one of those little pocket notebooks ... then riffle the pages with your thumb ... to make your own cartoon ...
There it was ... cartoon Jerry's black hat ... with the crooked arrow ... poking through from back to front ... taking on a life of it's own. That's when I saw it ... the black feather.
As usual, I was blindsided ... by the punchline. There is no doubt who left the black feather in my car. It was R.J. (Jerry) himself. And, of course, he left one that wasn't real. It's dead giveaway. Pun intended.
He's NO angel ... after all.
Together we laughed ... my father ... and I ... and my best friend, God, Creator of the Universe ... for miles and miles. And I cried a little bit, too.
A black feather is a much stronger message than a white feather. I totally get it.
White feathers are the most common of angel gifts. If an angel wants to draw your attention to the fact that it is there,
it will leave a little white feather in an unexpected place. It means simply, "I am around. Everything will be ok."
It really wasn't terribly surprising ... that I found two little white feathers ... upstairs on the landing ... beside my big plant in the window ... this morning. Still ... it took my breath away.
With awe & wonder, I bent down to examine them.
I never want to lose the breathless awe & wonder.
There is really no explanation for those feathers being there. Sure I have a feather pillow on one of the beds. And when the pillowcase is changed ... little feathers flutter out. The pillow is no where near the landing nor has it's case been changed in the last few days.
Still ... I went to the bed ... shook out a few feathers ... and carried them back to the landing. For comparison. There was nothing similar about the pillow feathers and the white feather duo on the floor. Imagine that.
A little more research tells me ... that white feathers are also a sign of a fresh start.
Each angel visit is as unique as the person visited. The best answer I found about what it all means ... the black feather ... the two white feathers ... is to find the answer by seeking within myself and to always go with my gut.
It is just a matter of believing, letting go, and staying aware.
www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com
(c)August 2013
I am always amazed when I wander down a random path ... and discover that a message was tucked away there ... especially for me ... waiting to be found ... at exactly the right moment.
