Peace and Angel Wings

“Peace is where I am.”

This is my mantra today. It isn’t always easy to remember that I can embody the peace that I seek. However, when those moments show up, the ones where harmony and stillness tip everything into sync, I’m reminded that the tapestry of our inner essence is woven from fine threads of precious peace.

I sensed the presence of angels in the garden quite strongly this morning. When I sat down to meditate, I felt wrapped in angel wings, Archangel Michael’s. Silent joy burst open in my heart. Peace permeated everything.

I found myself thinking about finding angels in wild places. The wild Earth, the trees, plant allies and animals all have their own energy, spiritual essence and elemental guardians. Yet on many occasions, I feel the angels in these natural spaces too. These loving celestial forces of light who are guiding and protecting us on our paths. In my mind’s eye I catch a glimpse of Archangel Ariel standing between the trees, Jophiel amongst the flowers, Uriel rising with the sun, Haniel sitting on the moon, Raphael mending broken wings and Gabrielle helping my attune to Nature’s wild whispers and interpret them with my pen.

angels in nature

Today, I received and email from a beautiful woman who I once did a healing session for. She mentioned feeling so connected to the angels and said that white feathers kept finding their way to her. It’s lovely to hear stories like this, especially the bit about feathers because they have a special place in my heart. As I wrote in a previous blog post, I feel that sacred feathers drift into our lives as signs from heaven and symbols of hope. They’ve shown up during the most difficult periods in my life with special messages that helped me carry on. They remind me that all things are mediums of spirit and that even when we don’t always see it, there is a divine interconnection and sacred communication carried out between all things. This is how the truth of our unity and oneness with Life, love and sacredness makes itself known.


Dreamland and Drifting in Between

I dreamt of daffodil bulbs sprouting, their young leaves rising from the earth like graceful green ghosts…and then that I was standing in a valley taking photos of mist rolling over the green hills…and still I dreamt of a woman with sea foam white hair teaching me how to listen to the whispering trees in the forest.

When I woke up, my mind still drifting in between dreamland and reality, I remember thinking…

…there are angels in nature walking amongst the trees and whispering the secret language of sacred things.

And also that…

mosses are a whole unknown world, in fact, a whole Universe of wisdom. They say that ‘rolling stones don’t gather moss.’ So to drink in great worlds of wisdom we must be still just like ancient rocks and boulders who rest in peaceful presence for eons and then allow the insights that rise from the Universe and from the quiet stirring within us to grow like moss on the moist edges of our consciousness.

Meanwhile, the autumn sun was rising somewhere behind the sea of grey clouds without me there to see it, and the garden was waking up wet from the early morning drizzle. It’s been a wetter autumn than usual and when I saw the rain-soaked oxalis leaves cropping up between the herbs it made me think of faeries and stories I should be writing for my children, if they ever come.

A morning like this can only lead to more enchantment unfolding as the day grows old. For that I am grateful.