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Posts Tagged ‘Angels’

#guidancefortheweek

Guidance for the week

“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”
― Langston Hughes

This week I had a card which I pulled from the deck and also one which fell out as I was putting it down. So there are two parts to this week’s message. I feel they are both joined in their message and also can be read individually, since we can receive the information we need at any time and in various ways. Take from each or either as you feel it resonates within you.

 

The card which came up first was STRENGTH.

#guidancecfortheweek

“Strength”, Doreen Virtue, Life Purpose Oracle Cards

The first thing which caught my attention was the eagle soaring in the sky. To me, the eagle has always represented strength and determination. They are in many ways, the kings of the sky, and woe betide anything which crosses their path if they are in need of food.

The central figure is the beautiful horse with the angelic rider on his back. In some ways it was surprising to notice that it was a woman on the horse, but realistically, every card for STRENGTH I’ve seen always has a woman as the central human figure. She has her spear and shield and I feel armour we can’t see, since her helmet has both the ‘usual crested front’ and also a pair of wings. Her cloak billows out behind her as she sits her horse in front of this massive tree.

The card depict both grace and strength. I shows an alertness and awareness of what is happening around her and that she is prepared for anything. She has trained well and experienced whatever life has thrown her way and she is now in dominion of her surroundings and wherever her surroundings happen to be.

The card indicates that you have put in the hard work and whether you realise it or not, you are able to do whatever lies before you. You need to make the decision about which way you wish to go and have the courage of your own wise self to make it succeed.

There are no limitations to what you can tackle, it may be study, work or recreation based, all that is required is that you have to make the decision to go ahead and see it to the end. Not all things work out as we first envision- that doesn’t mean they are wrong for us, just different from our original idea.

The main message to take from this card is that you have the courage to succeed, take the first step and each will follow the next. It is always the first which seems the hardest.

“If you’re reading this…
Congratulations, you’re alive.
If that’s not something to smile about,
then I don’t know what is.”
― Chad Sugg, Monsters Under Your Head

The card which fell out and wanted to bring a second message to us this week was ENVIRONMENTALIST.

#guidancefortheweek

“Environmentalist”, Doreen Virtue, Life Purpose Oracle Cards

When I look at this card I cannot help but feel the happiness which is there. She is beautiful, happy, filled with enjoyment. The wind blows through her hair, her clothes and fluffs out those gorgeous pink wings. Surrounded by a beautiful field of bluebells with wonderful trees behind her. She is at peace with her surroundings as well as one with them. Her world is filled with beauty.

Above her wing on the right side I see a nature spirit amongst the trees. At first glance it looks as though are two owls are hiding above her wing. All nature are her friends and allies.

Most of all when I look at this image, I get the feeling of being one with the earth and all her inhabitants. She is here to remind us to nurture the earth, the plants and animals and that we are the custodians of that task. Moreover it should be a joyous task for us to do this, since we are protecting all that is pleasing on the earth. Without a healthy earth, the plants and animals cannot survive and moreover, neither can we.

When I looked at both images together, what I felt from them made me feel even surer that they were linked in many ways. Today we are faced with shrinking land areas, which are essential for the survival of so many animals and plants. We are looking towards a future where many of the wonders of our age, of our parents and especially our grandparent’s age, are vanishing. From two hundred years ago until now, we can see the massive changes which have occurred, all in the name of progress or materialism.

I am not advocating cessation of progress, simply that our progress needs to take into serious consideration the need to protect the world we live in and all its inhabitants. To do this we need the strength we have built to survive to this point, harness it and proceed knowingly into the future. We can no longer sit idly by and claim it is someone else’s problem. We cannot allow the decisions to eradicate our world, the habitat of plants and animals primarily for the sake of the almighty dollar!

It takes great courage and strength to make that stand and the courage of our convictions to stand our ground and say” NO MORE!” If we truly wish to have wonders left on earth for future generations, and I can see no reason why we wouldn’t desire that, then we all must have the courage and strength to say “No More”.

So, if we are looking at showing strength and courage to forge a new change in life, or wish to further our commitment to our environment, both cards hold strong messages for the coming week.

#guidancefortheweek

Beautiful Orchids

Please know that wherever you are, you are always loved.

 

Blessings, Susan. ♥

 

©Susan Alexander 2015

©Susan Jamieson 2015

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#Teamwork

image from imgarcade.com

 

“The way I see it, our natural human instinct is to fight or flee that which we perceive to be dangerous. Although this mechanism evolved to protect us, it serves as the single greatest limiting process to our growth. To put this process in perspective and not let it rule my life, I
expect the unexpected;
make the unfamiliar familiar;
make the unknown known;
make the uncomfortable comfortable;
believe the unbelievable.”
Charles F. Glassman, Brain Drain The Breakthrough That Will Change Your Life

There’s no doubt about it when there is a big job to be done, there is nothing which makes it easier to handle than teamwork. Of course it goes without saying that everyone needs to be on the same page and marching to the same beat. If they are not, then some quite cataclysmic explosions can occur.

Many years ago, when I was working for one of the big four banks, my branch was relocated to another suburb. It caused innumerable complaints from the local residents who would be forced to try to get to the new location. Many of the locals were elderly or on the basic wage and it literally meant they would have to catch a bus just to get to the bank.

We probably wouldn’t think too much about it today, but then it was a major inconvenience, but profits trumped service even then. As bad as that was for the customers, the hardest part was the physical work necessary to move the “bank” and all its records to the new location. From close of business Friday afternoon, all over the weekend, staff and security were involved in the packing and transfer of material.

That was over two days, yet moving home, packing all your memorabilia, takes far longer. So far we have been working for over a week. In fact, we began to organise the day we secured the property.

Like most efficient organisers, first came the long lists, covering everything in stages, as we felt they were required. Starting with the setting up, the transfer or establishment of essential services. Phone calls should be a simple enough task to complete and yet they can take an inordinate amount of time. However, working together we managed to get everything done fairly smoothly.

It’s no secret that I am somewhat challenged in how much I can accomplish, physically, at present. Still, each evening we go over the days tasks, agreed on the night before and check off what we have done. The last thing we do, is agree on the “plan of attack” for the next day. The plan is working incredibly well and we have managed to make huge inroads into the mammoth task of moving.

I’m trying to keep the pain to a manageable level, despite the frustration of not being able to do as much as my mind tells me I can do. I’m not always successful, and my body quickly reminds me when my mind cashes checks my body simply cannot fulfil. In the interests of personal harmony I retreat to my room and meditate for a while. Spirit is helping in this act of keeping myself to a sensible pace.

Little by little the learning process continues and I realise how much Spirit plays an essential and wonderful part in our daily lives.

Yet, above all, the one thing which has been uppermost in my mind is the ease with which this move is so far being handled. Teamwork really can and does make things so much easier. With a partnership built on respect and trust for the other persons strengths, the division of tasks has seen a possible mammoth undertaking progress much more smoothly than I many I have seen before.

I am absolutely sure we have the Angels of translocation looking after us and aiding us in everything we do. As part of our team Spirit is aiding us with everything we need to think about and accomplish, even to helping me to step back, when necessary and relax for a time.

I regularly ask the Universe for help when I am stumped by a problem and they have never failed to provide an answer, even if it wasn’t the one I was expecting. Spirit works in mysterious ways.

I’m sure in the coming couple of weeks, Spirit, the Angels, whoever you choose to call our higher power of good, will continue to help us where they can and make the transition as easy as possible. Trust and great teamwork. Wonderful!

“When you trust your inner guidance and begin moving in the direction of your dreams (aligned with your individual gifts) you will be cloaked in an armor bestowed upon you by your guardian angel.”
Charles F. Glassman
#Teamwork

image from deepertruthblog.blogspot.com

Blessings, Susan♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

 

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image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

Recollections of that Christmas are strange, some vague and others thrown into stark relief. At times I felt alone in a darkness so profound I wondered if I would ever emerge again. I can remember desperately wanting to make it as happy and carefree as possible, easy and light, a remembrance of all the beautiful Christmas’ we had spent together. Above all it had to be as far removed from the reality of the situation as possible.  Despite the strain in Mum’s face, she was happy. Her family were around her and the love was overflowing. It was all I could have asked for. I was grateful my prayers were answered.

As though Christmas had never occurred it was back to ‘normal’ as soon as the New Year came around.  Hubby had spent plenty of time fuming over my response and as a result I wasn’t too surprised when, early in the new year, he advised me he wasn’t interested in trying to make a go of things, he wanted a divorce. It was a bad move on his part. I had a strong feeling that I should move and quickly. I haven’t felt such an urging before so I did exactly as he asked. As soon as the courts opened for business in the new year I went in, filled out the paperwork and less than three months later it was all over. He got his divorce finalised (the decree nisi) on his birthday. It wasn’t planned that way by me, but I have a feeling Spirit, and of course Dad had a lot to do with the speed of things. I had more important things on my mind. The darkness was drawing in. I also decided to change my name – I needed to sever the ties to him completely.

In early March Mum was rushed back into hospital and we, at least I, had been told that she wouldn’t be going home again. She hated the hospital and couldn’t rest. I was called earlier each day because she was calling for me, so I was there from 5am or earlier until 7pm when my brothers arrived for their hour-long visit! All day I made sure she received her morphine shots to ease the pain.  When they wore off during the night she was too ‘out of it’ to ask for more. My brothers thought she was doing okay because they only saw her after a day with regular pain shots. She was alert and pain free for their short visit. They refused to accept how dire the situation was. Several falls from bed and very nasty injuries and the hospital talked hospice. Mum was terrified since, even in her muddled state, she was aware what it meant. She wouldn’t be going home. It was prophetic that she had always said she would die in a hospital and that had made her more concerned about hospital visits during her life.

image from blog.iloveqatar.net

I was taking some enormous risks. I wasn’t sleeping, hardly eating and began having strange ‘black outs’ as I was driving to the hospital. At 120km/hr it was scary, and yes I was exceeding the speed limit.  They had begun when she was at home but I wasn’t going to say anything. She needed me with her. I was the one who bathed her and changed her clothes, helped her into and out of bed. I held her hand and prayed as I sent Reiki into her frail body. I think by then I had stopped thinking about anything else. I had to be there.

The day I was informed she was being transferred to the hospice was horrendous. I had been there again since 4am after she had fallen from bed and had seriously hurt her arm. It was heart wrenching to see the nurses try to dress the wounds, finally admitting when they couldn’t remove the dressings that it didn’t matter if they were changed.  My universe was collapsing.

The day was a nightmare.  The ambulance transfer was a trip from hell. Once we reached the hospice I helped get Mum changed and into her new bed. She curled up and “went to sleep.” I continued to give her Reiki until my brothers began to arrive.  They arrived around 7pm. After a half an hour they decided to leave since Mum was obviously “asleep”. My gut told me to stay. My car was back at the other hospital. Despite knowing I shouldn’t leave I allowed myself to be persuaded to go to my car and go home. Something inside screamed at me to stay, but out numbered and feeling cornered I felt I had no choice. I was so wrong and I can never forget that.

I debated, for the longest time, about going back to her, but I hadn’t seen my children and I was feeling drained. I arrived home as the phone began ringing. My mother had passed away ten minutes after I left her. I don’t remember the drive back, only coming back to myself when I arrived at the hospice as saw my brother there. I was angry. He had arrived first and had decided to sign all the paperwork. He didn’t want to stay at all. He didn’t want me to stay either, but he did want me to go back to Mum’s house with him  (where he was living) to talk about what ‘we’ had to do. A new nightmare was about to begin, one which would threaten to drown me.

image from bleeding_eye_by_flauschvampire91

image from bleeding_eye_by_flauschvampire91

That walk through Mum’s front door felt like a knife wrenching through my heart. Inside my head a scream reverberated. I wanted out! I wanted a little space to think! I needed to find something to hold onto! I was adrift in uncharted waters and I was drowning already. Somehow, some way, I had to find how to keep going and stay sane. I felt I was faced with a stacked deck, just how much that was true was to come to light soon enough.

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Next week – A New Nightmare Begins.

© Susan Jamieson 2013

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image from bigoldhouses.blogspot.com

In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it. Michelangelo

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England has more than a small number of old houses, mansions, priories, castles and so on, many having their own tales of haunting or ghosts. Whilst I have my own experiences of wandering through these places, including my feelings walking round Port Arthur, this tale is purely anchored in a vivid dream. All I will say is that the house of my dream is one I ‘know’ and have ‘been to in the distant past’ even though I cannot recall the details of it yet.

It was drawing close to winter, the weather had turned cold and a keen wind had whistled around the house for days.  It found any small crack or crevice to keen through and bring goose-flesh to your skin. It was easy to hear strange noises or perhaps whispered voices once the sun had set.

I was at my babysitting job on this bitterly cold Saturday night. I had stayed up late watching the old horror movies starring Vincent Price and Peter Cushing. They seemed perfectly suited for such eerie surrounds. When I was taken home again  had to make my way to the back of the house to get in. Behind me was the skyline of the old woods, trees writhing in the wind and bats silently flitting between the scudding clouds.  I was in a hurry to get inside.

image from theinsideofmyheadd.wordpress.com

It was late and I was grateful to climb between my warm sheets and pull my eider down under my chin. I was sure I would be asleep in minutes. Yet from there I slipped into  a strange land somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, or so I thought.

I saw this old house, so familiar and yet I knew, in one part of my mind, that I had never been there, yet. It had a dark and brooding feel to it, as though it had been long-deserted and had an unhappy history. I heard footsteps, a careful measured tread and with some surprise realised they were mine. I walked up the long and overgrown driveway towards the front door of the house. It felt as though the house was waiting… for me or someone else, I really don’t know.

There were six steps leading up to the front porch. The scroll work railing around the patio was rusted and dark, clinging vines wrapped around it all withered and dry, rustling eerily in the wind. The house had been empty for years, windows broken, boarded over now with jagged edges, the holes gaping into the blackness beyond.

My footsteps creaked on the wooden portico as I approached the door. The wind had picked up in intensity and the door creaked loudly as it moved slightly on its rusted hinges. Without conscious thought I saw my pale hand reach out to slowly push the door open. The screech of rusted metal protesting was loud in my ears and a nearby owl hooted as it flew off into the trees.

I did not want to enter that house so why were my feet pulling me forward?  Some intangible force seemed to be drawing me inside, deeper into the dark recesses of the house. The wind whistling through those jagged holes in the windows blew dried leaves rustling across the floor as the door opened further.  It made a sound like shuffling feet creeping across the floor.

image from cindi.ccfoss.com

I moved slowly forward, towards the old staircase. I could see it would have been beautiful when the house was in its hey day, but now was as broken down as the rest of the house.  As I stood there at the foot of the staircase I thought I heard a whispered voice calling from above. I couldn’t make out what it said and my tongue was clinging to the roof of my dry mouth. My legs had turned to jelly yet were rooted to the spot.

I hadn’t noticed that the little light which had been coming in through the door and windows had grown less. The wind was howling more strongly and I could hear thunder crashing off in the distance. Each time it sounded a little closer and the old house seemed to shake in the rumbling echoes.  Lightning suddenly flashed off in the distance, throwing an eerie light into the house.

The moaning of the wind now began to sound like the moaning of someone in pain, a sound which was getting louder by the minute. Another crash of thunder seemed to rattle the old house to its very foundations and the following lightning flash flared brightly. In the peculiar afterglow I thought I saw a figure silhouetted tat the top of the staircase. A woman in a long dress seemed to be staring down at me.

The crash of thunder pealed directly overhead followed immediately by the whip crack of lightning. Between the wind howling through the windows, the deafening noise of thunder and actinic flare of lightning the shape coalesced into the form of a woman, apparently floating down the stairs. I certainly could hear no footfalls.

Whether I could hear anything or not I no longer wished to be there. Without conscious thought, without moving I found myself once more tucked up in my bed, breathing heavily and drenched in perspiration, my heart hammering to its own beat.

I suppose one should expect strange dreams if one is watching horror movies! After all, it was just a dream – wasn’t it?

I have never seen this house and yet I know it. Another lifetime perhaps, only time may tell, it felt real at the time. I could smell the lightning and the dead leaves, the musty old house. I could hear the wind  and thunder, footsteps and was it a voice moaning? At the time it was real as all dreams or otherworldly experiences are real. It is up to you to decide. Whatever lesson I have to learn from this is still to be revealed.  Perhaps the message was for you?

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image from style160.blogspot.com

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
Albert Einstein

Blessings  Susan x

© Susan Jamieson

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image from agapegeek.com  St. Michael, the Protector.

“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.”  ~Jean Paul Richter

For a long time now I’ve followed a morning and nightly ritual of ‘white lighting’ my family. For those who are not familiar with this, it is not imagining them struck by lightning, although there are times when I’ve been tempted.  It is a simple practice of visualising white light surrounding each person in my family. This white light is from the Universe, a heavenly source or representative for good,  whichever you are most comfortable with.  This acts as a protection ‘bubble’  around them wherever they go throughout the day. It also covers their cars when I know they are going out. (I do the same for me too!)

On this particular day, my daughter was going to Uni and then coming home. I had a strange feeling that morning as I woke up, she was definitely on my mind. Nothing dramatic, just an uncomfortable feeling the closer it came time for her to leave. I followed my usual white light routine and went about my daily activities.

As the day wore on the feeling of discomfort grew, my intuition was working overtime so much so that I went through my white light routine several times and for some reason I felt compelled to really “reinforce” her car. I was counting down the minutes until she was due to come home. When I knew she would be about fifteen minutes away I started to become fairly agitated. I was going to call her but hesitated  because I felt she would be driving home. At the same time I couldn’t shake the feeling that ‘something’ was imminent.

When the phone rang and I saw it was her number my immediate thought was that she had some car trouble and that this was the cause of the odd feelings I’d had all day. It had occurred previously and left her stranded in the middle of the night so at first, I put it down to that, yet it still didn’t feel right.

Then I heard an unfamiliar voice,  which said, “You don’t know me, but I’m Fred Smith, a lecturer at the University. You need to prepare yourself for some very bad news. I have to tell you that your daughter has been involved in an extremely serious accident. Can you come immediately?”

This was ‘IT’, I simply knew it, intuitively knew this was what had been going to happen all day. After getting the location of the accident from him I grabbed my bag and keys and flew out the door. She was near the railway line about fifteen minutes from home. I don’t have a very clear recollection of that drive, although I do recall that I made the trip in five minutes which meant I had to have broken every speed limit and either went through a number of red lights or had an angel change each one for me. It’s possible it was a combination of both, but I wasn’t going to be delayed. There was something in that man’s voice which said “HURRY!”

As I arrived at the scene I saw one car slewed around into a street on the right, nose pointing up the hill and my daughter’s car was facing me which would have been her line of travel to reach home. I knew it was her car by the colour (purple) and general outline, but there were so many people, para medics and fire and rescue people, plus their vehicles surrounding her it was hard to be sure. I was certain.

I parked on the footpath, (not allowed) and as I strode (stalked perhaps) along towards her car I saw a group of four Asians sitting next to a garden fence. I briefly stopped to ask them if they had been in the accident and they answered affirmatively, in perfectly good English. None seemed hurt, just crestfallen. Two boys and two girls. At that moment they were relatively insignificant until I found out how my daughter was.

However, I had been spied by a diminutive and rather rotund female paramedic who made a beeline towards me. She held her arms out and officiously asked me who I was. (I know the tone of an officious question!) On identifying myself as the drivers mother she peremptorily told me I couldn’t go to her, nor approach the car. I’m sure at that point that if I could produce steam from my ears it would have been blowing a siren call.

My daughter could see me and seeing me prevented from approaching became agitated and tearful. I can still barely believe she had been composed until then, probably the psychology she was studying and delayed shock. I was becoming more than a little annoyed, angry even. From a very young age I taught my children that if they could look me in the eyes and I told then they would be okay they had nothing to worry about. Psych 101 and it worked. So being restrained from approaching convinced her she was seriously hurt.

To be honest, I truly thought she might be but my intuition told me she was okay. The other vehicle had been speeding towards her on the way to Uni, and going too fast had failed to take the corner. Such was the force of the head on collision as they tried to turn that their car whipped around and the tail slammed into her driver’s door. The doors were wedged shut and her foot was trapped under the accelerator.  The engine had been shoved backwards into the cabin. Her seat belt jammed and she couldn’t reach her bag or phone, hence the call from the strange man.

As the situation became more heated, with various threats from both sides, and despite her ‘authority’ she was in distinct danger of being trounced for being in my way. Fortunately for her, a giant of a man from the fire and rescue vehicle saw what was happening and sauntered over to ‘assist’. I’m not that tall, nor am I that small; 5’7″ is reasonable for a woman, but he was huge in all his gear. My rotund nemesis beat a retreat back to my daughters car, I took a deep breath and explained what the dolt was preventing me from doing.

You see all I need to do was get to her passenger side (where there were no rescue people) and talk to her. Promising to be good, I was escorted over to the car and spoke to my daughter. As suspected she was convinced she must be seriously hurt, she had been trapped now for two hours and not letting me near her had increased her belief that death might be imminent. Calmed down, I explained I had to move back so the rescue people could get the jaws of life to open her car up and get her free.  My stalwart fire and rescue guy gave me a nice cool bottle of water. I think he hoped it might cool me down.

Ambulances came and ferried the four youths to the hospital who had all suddenly developed various ‘injuries’ and lost the use of the English language. My daughter was finally freed and I met her at the hospital. Heaven knows what that imbecile from the para medics told them but they eyed me askance from the moment I waked in.  My daughter was kept waiting for hours whilst they treated the other youths, without even having her blood pressure taken. To say I was peeved was an understatement.

By the time a nurse arrived to talk to her the other four had already left with… no discernible injuries, but they had needed  to wait for… you  guessed it, an interpreter.

Numerous scans, tests, and so forth later they rather astoundingly told me that she seemed to be totally fine, only virulent bruising across her chest and abdomen and hip from the seat belt! Incredible and totally wonderful. I know that her guardian angel were watching out for her that day and that was the only reason she was still here with me. She was very stiff and sore but we were both relieved when, with painkillers in hand, we carefully made our way to the car and I took her sedately home.

POSTSCRIPT

Several days later, whilst my daughter was resting in bed the doorbell rang. It was the insurance assessor. After bringing him inside and sitting him down he proceeded to offer his condolences. Nonplussed I asked him why. Of course it was for the tragic loss of my daughter. He had just come from the car yard where the car had been towed and seeing the vehicle was sure she had been killed in the accident. He was very abashed on hearing she was resting comfortably in her room. I’m sure it was the first condolence call he had made that turned out to be unnecessary.

My daughter wouldn’t or couldn’t believe how serious the accident had been. Eventually I relented and took her to see the car. As I helped her to approach the car, since she was very stiff by then, she suddenly froze and the blood drained from her face.  In front of her was the mangled remnant of her beloved little car. Apart from the initial damage it had been opened like a can by a can opener and looked awful. The truth finally hit home and we had to almost carry her back to my car to come home.

So, belief in Angels, the greatness of the Universe, good luck or whatever appeals to you, I know that without some assistance that day I would have lost my daughter. If not, she would have been seriously injured. There was no reason for me to feel so uncomfortable that day. It was a journey she regularly made, yet on this day it was different.  Nothing will ever convince me we didn’t have a helping hand or three. My intuition didn’t let me down.

image from http://www.impactlab.net My daughter was wrapped in the arms of an angel. I’m good with that.

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.”  ~George Elliot

So tell me, what do you think?

A very happy and grateful Momma.

Ciao, Susan x

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Every once in a while a strange thing happens, you have an odd idea. Here is mine…. I asked a ghost blogger to do a post for me. I hope it is less stressful than mine.

image from intranet.tdmu.edu.te.ua

“One thought I think every person eventually thinks is, “Holy shit, I’m going to die!” Sorry, I just turned thirty yesterday, so my mortality is on my mind.
”
Jarod Kintz, This Book Has No Title

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Stress comes to each of us every day and in many forms, sometimes we hardly know it is present and at others it is right “in your face”. Here is a story of the humorous as well as the possibly tragic possibilities which surround stress in our lives. It is also how not to prepare for a stress test.

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The Scene is Set

Our story begins with an unfortunate and traumatic divorce which has left one party severely depressed and struggling to cope. As part of an ongoing counseling program, suggested during the separation, he attended stress management sessions on a fortnightly basis. Most of these sessions were fairly mundane, focusing on bringing his stress under control, offering a variety of brochures and lectures, however, one turned out to be very interesting. We’ll call him Joe.

This particular session, the counselor brought out a galvanometer muscle tester, to perform a stress test.  This little gadget clips onto any particular muscle, one small clip at either end of the selected muscle, in this case the forearm was chosen. The testing process. After the clips are attached and the subjects arm is at rest, the counselor would turn the control knob slowly from 1 to a maximum of 10. As soon as the machine begins to emit a steady click, click, click,a needle on a meter would indicate the stress the person is under whilst at rest. After this the subject would then be asked to clench their fist and when the muscle is tensed the machine would register the increase in frequency of the clicks by the needle rising.  This would indicate the stress load on the person tested.The higher the number reached indicates the higher the stress the subject is under at that time.  As luck would  have it, it was a fortuitous day for this test to be scheduled.

The first volunteer held out his hand and had the clips attached. On setting 4 of a possible 10, the machine made a slow buzzing noise until he clenched his fist and the buzzing increased a little, as did the needle.  The counselor asked the subject what he did  for a living to which he responded that he had a very highly stressed job. He was on the complaints counter at the Shire Council and the only people he saw were always angry at him.

Enter Joe.  The clips were attached to his arm. At setting 7 the machine began clicking. On clenching his fist the little machine began to scream and the needle on the dial went off the scale.

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“That’s funny,” she said. “Let me check.” A strange look passed across her face and she began to start the test again.

She attached the clips and turned the knob.  At setting 7 the clicks started.

“Clench your fist” she said.

The little machine screamed in protest!  The needle went off the dial.

“Must be something wrong,” she said.  Let me check that,  Relax.”

The noise instantly stopped, just a click, click, click.  She looked at him, confused.

“Let’s try that again.  Clench your fist?”

Instantly the machine screamed again and the needle went off the dial!

“Tell me what you do for a living,” she said.  “You have a very interesting stress test.”

“Let me tell you about this morning,” he said.  “I have a farm and an earth-moving business, and today I was cleaning bush for an electricity company to put power lines through.  We had a tree with a branch that had to be lopped, 5 metres up. .  It was a huge branch, about 10 metres long and almost a metre through it.  The only way we could see to reach it to cut it down was with me in the bucket of the bulldozer loader with a chainsaw.

David, my assistant, maneuvered the machine into place, I climbed into the bucket with the chainsaw and he raised the bucket to 5 metres, level with the branch.  I put a cut under the branch, half way through, and then started to cut down from the top so the branch would fall clear away from me.  I cut deep down into the branch, but it wouldn’t fall!   Perplexed, I asked Davis to reposition the bulldozer so I could reach it better, and started again, a little more cutting underneath, then down from the top again.  The chainsaw was screaming as I pushed down on it but the branch just hung there!  I looked at David, he shook his head and I kept pushing and cutting.  Suddenly, the branch vanished!  It dropped without warning, no sagging, creaking, it just fell, leaving me pushing down hard on a screaming chainsaw into thin air!

I swayed and grabbed for the side of the bucket with one hand, holding the chainsaw away from me with the other, at the end of my outstretched arm.  The branch had fallen and was bouncing on the ground, finally rolling against the front of the bulldozer.  We looked at each other and I think David saw the shock on my face.  I could see it in his.

Stress level: extreme. It’s like she was a jar with the lid screwed on too tight, and inside the jar were pickles, angry pickles, and they were fermenting, and about to explode.”
Fiona Wood, Six Impossible Things

He backed the machine away and lowered the bucket.  I stepped out and put the chainsaw down.  I looked at my watch.

“Somewhere to go?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “I have to go to a stress management session at the hospital, they are doing stress testing today.  Wonder how I’ll go!”

images from sunshinecoastmidwifery.com.au

Stress is good for you …. in moderation. That and an Angel sitting on your shoulder. “The Wisdom of Joe”.

Normal blogging to resume shortly…. perhaps tomorrow.

Ciao, Susan

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Falling

Softly in the darkness

Velvety wings

Wrapped around in darkness

Turning quietly

Downwards in darkness

Seeking

For answers

Heart beat

Blood drip

Pouring quietly in darkness

Twinkling faintly

Lights, so far in darkness

Barely seen

Music playing

Sounding loudly in darkness

Angels in darkness

Angels bringing light

Every song is Angels

Cradled softly

In feathery wings

Safe in light

Saved from darkness

Not alone, nor lonely

Angels if light

‘Here

There

Everywhere in the darkness

Pain,

Eased in the light

Heartache

image from indianapublicmedia.org

Soothed in the light

Angels of pure light

The answer…

Angels,

Just Angels

image from earthangels-angeliclightworkers.com

Have a beautiful weekend

Ciao,

Susan x

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