Angel Wings and Herb Tea

Life after loss; healing through creativity, writing and art

An An Angel at my Shoulder

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Sometimes things happen and it’s always for a reason.

Especially things that  I think shouldn’t happen.

Like getting an unexpected day with Finch at his Granny’s and me going to a cafe to catch up on a long list of internet based activities. Mainly grocery or booking half term activities, paying bills.Writing a blog post, possibly starting that short story that has been on the back burner for a while… I buy a tea, and settle in.

The internet is not working.

Except it is for everyone else but not for me. The waitress reconfirms the Wi Fi code, and gently suggests I turn off and try again. I do. Nichts. I am frustrated. I glance at my list with panicky frustration. We still have no internet at home, the engineer comes later this week. There are things I really need to do. had also been planning to write, possibly a blog post or a new short story that has been simmering….I am singularly uninspired and consider ditching my tea and walking back through town to the library to use the internet there.

And then a tiny newborn cries in the corner, his wails raw and pure. I tear up, as usual in the presence of such an occurrence and remember my five babies and that glimpse of other worlds in their inky bottomless eyes. It’s a moment suspended from the coffee chatter and internet anxiety. I glance at the computer. The time stands at 11.11. Now this is happening a lot at the moment, and often does when there’s something going on that is bigger than I can understand, some greater energy surrounding me, a flutter of excitement that there are possibilities in life that are deeper and more lovely than I can imagine at the moment. 11.11 moments usually come in a rash and are often accompanied by white feathers floating into my path. For white feathers click here. Last time it happened , a few months ago, I even found that the change in my purse added up to £11.11. If you are interested in the whole 11.11 phenomenon….have a read here…

So I’m in the cafe, my frustration at the internet failure abating and the newborn is calming with his bottle and I take a moment to get up and go to the bathroom, just to be quiet. In the quiet while I soap my hands I feel that shiver of excitement a feeling of some sort of divine flow, synchronicity, love…it could be called so many things but it’s similar to when you see a gold streaked sunset with a perfect V of home bound birds and everyone stops for a fleeting moment to forget their deadlines and lost car keys and just sinks into an ‘aaah’ ..and it feels as if your very soul is just free for a minute. Flowing out of the scratchy demands of its body to be part of the liquid gold sky and hundreds of beating wings

And looking around the cafe, suddenly everyone is beautiful, the man who is struggling to put his jumper on the right way round after two failed attempts, and the new mother pale and exhausted gazing at her little child with love, the woman with burgundy nail varnish nervously stroking her hair braid. And the man who tips over his coffee cup in the middle of what looks like a business meeting and tries not to lose face by being brisk and calm.

And so to cut a long story short, the lack of internet has become a blessing and a chance to connect to the possibilities of the endless now and my connection to it. Rather than wasting an hour and a half anaesthetizing myself with facebook and ordering my veg box.

In the same way that being accidentally sprayed in the face with pesticide this morning by the woodworm treatment man actually ( after much eye flushing) led to a connection between Hugh and I which pulled us out of our early morning frenzy to get out of the door and into a lovely moment where we stopped and remembered that we loved each other.

It’s moments like this that led me to think about the title for my new exhibition of paintings currently up in a cafe in Totnes,  (Willow Restaurant for any of you Devon peeps)  ….’An Angel At My Shoulder’.

I don’t think that having an angel at one’s shoulder is necessarily a privilege reserved for those of us who have lost a child. I just think that in my case, losing my daughter Lily precipitated me into a heightened awareness and sensitivity of dimensions which I was simply not aware of before. Our physical lives are so demanding and so time consuming they can effectively block out any connection to a spiritual plane, or even those heart connection moments like the golden sunset or a stranger in the street. I don’t know how I would be if Lily was still alive….but it might have taken me alot longer to start the journey I’m on now.

I am still put into a soporific state by media, and being too busy, rushing …losing my connection to myself and others in the process.  But I am learning to quiet myself when I can, get into nature; do some centred breathing or simply sitting by the fire and gazing at the flames. For moments when I find this difficult,  something will usually happen to remind me…a lost internet connection, a baby crying, a look of outrage on my children’s faces at being rushed again…..or that angel at my shoulder, just giving me a gentle tap to remind me what’s important.

Does anyone else have 11.11 moments? Or feel that they have any sort of connection to that vast feeling of love and flow that can be called so many things? I think it’s a growing revival!

Look forward to hearing from you

Love Henrietta xx

One thought on “An An Angel at my Shoulder

  1. Hello Henrietta, I have only recently discovered your lovely blog but I was struck by this post. Firstly, I am sorry to hear about the loss of your daughter. Secondly, like you I am also looking to reconnect with myself and the higher spiritual world around. Our bodies, minds and spirits are being bogged down by modern life with all its rushing around etc and we all need to learn again to be like children and live in the present and “see” the magical and spiritual worlds as well as the physical. I’d love to hear more about your own journey along this path. I was also struck by your comments about the 11:11 moments. I don’t have these but for several years now have had 22:22 moments – I always seem to check the clock when it’s 22:22 and there is a certain spookiness about it.
    If you’d like to chat, pop over to my blog Lucys Cottage: http://lucys-cottage.blogspot.co.uk
    Best wishes, Fiona

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