Blithe and Bonny Spring

Perseverance is the order of the day.

Life is distracting enough without being visited by dead people at the drop of a hat. I've learned that I cannot be subjected to the whims of the angels, anymore than those of you mortals. With all of the craziness going down on planet earth, they've had to be a lot less choosy about who passes the spirit guide exams. 'They need back up down there, and PRONTO!' From what I can surmise, they might have some pretty sketchy accreditation programs. That's not to say everyone of your guides is a rookie, but there's a distinct possibility that one of your invisible peeps is an intern and working toward his or her title.

Bottom line, whispers may be suggestions, not heart-stopping, life-altering warnings or commands. Your newbie guardian may loooovvve yardsaling. You may find yourself wondering why in the hell you bought a hutch to display your best porcelain in a nook, when you clearly have no nook, and no fine China. Nor do you have an interest in displaying the chipped remains of your grandfather's collection of WWII-era German beer mugs, his gift to you, the bulk of which your stepmother clandestinely consigned, when he was on his death bed, in an effort to expedite the clearing of his trailer. You'd waited twelve years to touch his precious war momentos placed on the highest shelf, perpetually out of your reach. Glistening, colorful, more ostentatious than the polka-music playing beerhalls from whence they came.

I've no timecard, so I'm punching into my blog this evening, like Foghorn Leghorn clocking into his farmyard job. Cape Cod is a mystical land of synchronicity. It has become a proverbial Family Reunion with souls with whom I've broken bread for centuries across our many lives, and as such, it can be disarming, loads of laughs, and more work than you'd expect. We're, like, resolving karma from ten different lives right now. I'm sorry I stole your chickens. We should have never started that coven. The ax I put through your head, it was meant for the parlor maid. I still love you despite your having abandoned me in the forest with the king's men on horseback with all those drawn bows. You're my spirit sister, always. We're totally good. Let's get a beer, shall we?

I have decided to personalize my book. I am quite eager to do so! Wish me luck, if you cared enough to read this.

Limitless Blessings an Springtidings to you.