I’m going to be very casual and candid here with y’all, because I don’t think talking to the Divine needs to be performed with pomp and circumstance; gold-embossed, white-robed, and smelling like furniture polish and incense. I mean if that’s how you like it, more power to you, no judgment here. Everyone who talks to their inner voice does it in a different way. I’m just going to share how it plays out for myself. It’s very chill.
Don’t think for a moment that it’s always been this clear cut and orderly. It took me three years of intense, hard, intentional work to get to this point in my communication with my guides. It has required soul-searching and journaling and baths and weeping and talks with my earthly guides and cannabis. And I’m still learning new ways of listening. New ways of hearing.
So. Shall we begin?
When I talk with my guides, I typically don’t speak aloud, but in my head the conversation is audible, informal and familiar. I am comfortable with all their manifestations – even if I don’t like the messages they bring. The Divine - my guides and angels - we are close. Our conversations are rarely solemn events – they are more like brunch at a favorite restaurant. So I’m going to speak about it in just that way – it may be boring AF, or you may shake your head and walk away thinking I’m a lunatic. I don’t care, it is what it is, and they told me to document my process. So, here it is.
The tell me quite a bit through their gorgeous, sweet, and hilarious messenger Jhadina. Her messages are the most straightforward: she talks, I listen, I take what is meaningful, leave the rest. Go back to it later if it’s not relevant. It’s the easiest communication I experience, and I am so, so grateful for it. She is their mouthpiece, not just for me, but for thousands of us, which is so amazing and cool. She is pure divinity.
In an earlier post I talked about tuning in to the Divine like a radio station, but I don’t always walk around listening to Divine Radio. Not intentionally, anyway. Sometimes I just don’t feel like it, and sometimes they simply have nothing to say. It’s a very natural, organic process at this point. To be perfectly honest, I don’t like it when they are quiet for too long – I start to feel uneasy and isolated if I don’t have any communication from them for more than a few days. I start to feel too… normal. Too human. My higher self vibrates at a much different frequency than my 3D life, without my guides I am flying solo, and I start to miss them. And, of course, there are days when I welcome the quiet, because I’ve been overwhelmed with the emotions and challenges of the tasks they have already assigned. Sometimes all I hear is static, and no matter what I do, I can’t get them to come in clearly. Sometimes I just turn it off altogether, because I just cannot with them.
Then there are game days. Times when I shake the universe like a Magic 8 Ball, holding a specific question or situation in my mind. Then I say, ‘Okay, talk to me’ and I turn on music, or pull a tarot card. The tarot cards are new, and I’m only just now really learning them, so those particular signs aren’t always clear yet. But music, on the other hand – now that speaks. Music has spoken to me as long as I can remember. It’s tried and true. It’s my jam.
I’ve got playlists that I use, so the Divine knows exactly what she has to work with. To be fair, a playlist can be limiting – but I try to coordinate the vibe of my question with the vibe of the playlist. Whatever song she picks, I listen to and try to objectively interpret. I’ve got my “Soulmate” playlist, my “Paying Attention” playlist, and my “Walking” playlist.
These days I tend to stick with the “Walking” playlist, which is built solely on the BPM, since I use it for walking. I’ve got all the moods in there – grim, dark, pessimistic stuff which fools you with its bouncy, danceable 130 BPM, but the lyrics are depressing AF. I’ve got sexy stuff, serious stuff, heartbreak stuff and fluffy love songs, pure spirit and fantasy. I may limit the Divine to EDM (and she complains about it), but at least the subject matter has variety.
Every once in a while, however, I’m feeling feisty or adventurous and I say “All right, the whole music library is yours, whatcha got?” which is a bit of a free-for-all. A total crap shoot. I have stuff in my library I’ve never even listened to, just downloaded on someone’s recommendation, in addition to the odd soundtrack, old stuff (Indigo Girls, Sarah Maclachlan, Ani DiFranco), REALLY old stuff (Journey, The Eagles, Stevie Nicks, Annie Lennox), and classical/instrumental stuff. So those interpretations can be tricky or surprising or just totally off the wall.
Let’s do one now, in real time, just for funsies.
Spirit, Divine one, my darling playful guides… what’s up? I have no agenda here, my thoughts are pretty scattered. Of course the things on my mind are my knee, leaving town, that damn situationship, the seemingly impossible possibility of ever finding a soulmate… you know, the usual.
So, surprise me. Let’s go all out. Use the whole library. Go.
(Pull up my Apple Music library, choose “Songs”, hit ‘shuffle’…)
Hmm. “Infinity” by The xx. Interesting but unsurprising choice. It’s a duet about letting someone/something go – giving it up. “I can’t give it up to someone else’s touch, because I care too much,” sings one of them, and the other voice sings “Could you tell I was left lost and lonely, could you tell things ain’t worked out my way? Wish the best for you, wish the best for me. Wished for infinity. If that ain’t me, then give it up.”
It’s a dark and broody song, and it’s pretty much exactly where I’m at in this damn situationship at the moment. It has been a struggle to let it go, because I can’t imagine finding someone else I feel this way about – at the same time knowing it will never, ever become a lifetime thing. It’s all very ridiculous and pedestrian and high school emo, but it’s been tough and terrible to go through it with my adult knowledge and perspective. I’ve tried multiple times to end the thing. I always go back, against my better judgment, with a lot of weeping and raging and cursing. (Addiction for sure.) What I’m gathering from this message is that I really need to let it go for his sake as well as my own. Blah blah blah. Whatever.
See? I don’t always like what the Divine has to say. I know what I need to do, and they like to poke me with pointed things once in a while to remind me that it’s gonna be necessary for me to end this affair in my head and heart before it literally ends by my leaving. Sigh.
But, grappling with love and heartbreak is a very human thing, and it’s something I keep running into, so clearly I still have things to learn. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thank you EVER so much, Spirit. You are excused.
LOL.
Okay, so that’s one way I play with the Divine. It’s definitely not always so dour. Sometimes they crack me up, and I find myself laughing out loud. That tends to happen when all of them gang up on me at once – they know how easy it is to get my goat, so they put me in deliciously ironic situations, or just ridiculous ones. I like it when that happens, because it reminds me that a) the Divine has a wicked sense of humor and that b) I really don’t need to always be taking life so seriously. Life should be fun. That’s been a big theme lately. BIG. So much so that Disneyland has become a destination for this journey, as requested by several of my younger inners, and I’m happy to oblige.
One of the most fun ways to converse with these yahoos is when I’m high. That’s when they take artistic freedom and poetic license and show up as anyone or anything they bloody well want. Past lovers. Friends. My kids. My cat. Celebrities. (I shit you not, Brad Pitt has brought me messages in my sleep. Always a divine experience!) Being high is how I found my guides in the first place – so it has become our playground. I will set some intentions – usually pretty loose ones – and just dive in. What fun we have! That’s when I find out stuff I wasn’t even asking about, when I am shown memories long since forgotten, when I am given ideas and inspiration. Sometimes they want me to do art then and there, and wow is that the best. Super fun. A loving and playful adventure, most of the time. Every once in a while it gets very serious and I end up sobbing in the darkness, but it all feels controlled somehow. Managed lessons. I’m accessing some heavy shit, and it’s the perfect time to look at it and work through it, when cannabis has opened my mind up all the way, and I’m floating in 5D. My guides are there, I can actually feel their presence, so I feel safe to do these deep dives. I know that when the high abates I will feel amazing. Calm. Like the beach when the tide goes out – smooth and damp, with treasures spread here and there. Sometimes garbage, yeah, but mostly treasures. Lol.
Talking with my past and future selves is like being with best friends. They know me better than anyone, they aren’t afraid to call me on my shit, and they are usually pretty clear about what I need to learn. That’s not to say the message is always straightforward – reading between the lines is often necessary. Occasionally I get a message that is a total mystery, and I don’t figure it out until later. I just never know. (“Like a box of chocolates” they are telling me. Yes. But do NOT give me coconut. It’s gross. You know I’m gonna look at the chart in the lid so I only take the ones I like, anyway.)
Reading between the lines sounds like silence, but not a bad silence. Instead it’s a visual or sensation I need to interpret – much of the time it’s trees or the sky or the birds, the wind or the cold or the sun. These messages are usually to remind me of my power, my purpose. To remind me that I’m just a tiny speck in this universe – that my planet is a tiny speck – that galaxies are just tiny specks – and also that I am the universe and it has all come from me. I am everything and nothing. It’s all important: none of it is important. The trees and sky tell me that no matter what is going on, no matter how scary or sad or unbelievably awful things are – beauty is always there. Always. That love is the energy that binds us together. These messages are to soothe my troubled soul, they are ‘big picture’ moments. Moments of hope. At these times every wind-induced movement of branches, every dazzling color change in the sunrise is speaking to me. Absolutely lovely. It’s the messages I often wish every person would hear and know. Beauty. Love. Joy. Energy. Good stuff.
The flip side of love and joy is, of course, the moments of despair. The times when my soul is in utter darkness. I am alone. No one can see me, no one can hear me. In the real world I am sobbing, terrified, sick and sure that none of this is real, that my life is just a brief flicker, and when it’s over, it’s over. I do not know where I am, or what I am to do. I am sure that I am all alone in this universe. Nothing matters, and not in a good way. You know, that dark place. I am so, so happy for you if you have never been there, but it’s my belief that most everyone has, or will be. We need that dark place, because that is where the treasures lie, but it can be awful, devastating, and dangerous.
We’re talking about messages here, though – I’ll talk about the dark place another time. I will say this: these dark times are when the messages come in the clearest. That voice I hear in those moments is unmistakable. It is the voice of the Divine Feminine – the Goddess – the Creator of All. It is the loving voice of my inner midwife, the sweet singing of my inner child. It is at once masculine and feminine, soft as a whisper and calm as lake, persistent as ocean waves and warm as a fire, as powerful as a thunderstorm, as beautiful as snowfall. It is small and still, it is vast and swirling like the galaxies themselves. It is my higher self. And that message is always, in essence, the same: I’ve got you. You are okay. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.
How comforting those words. They don’t always sink in right away – sometimes their resonance has to break through whatever walls I’ve put up to protect myself from the horrors of my own darkness. I first have to silence my own cries, calm my body, slow my heart, and look inward, further into the depths of my darkness, to find that tiny flame that always burns. Always. Then I can hear it.
I’ve got you.
Whew. Well, that took a bit of a serious turn, didn’t it?
I am so, so grateful for that message. It has gotten me through some of the most horrific pain and fear – even when I didn’t know who was sending it, as I do now. That’s the Divine at their finest.
The dark place isn’t always the same. Sometimes the dark place is like a persistent toddler or a micromanaging boss. I try to keep it at arm’s length even as I know I need to deal with it. Those are times when “I’ve got you” is simply not enough. I need a sign.
That’s the time for Double Dog Dare. The Great Testing. The “Prove It” portion of the program. It goes like this: I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m on the right path. I don’t know what choice to make. I think this is the right way, but that might just be Wishful Thinking playing around with me. I need more help than “I’ve got you”. I need a direct, unmistakable confirmation. Otherwise, well, how can I believe? The dark place snarls and threatens – it’s sitting in the corner, waiting. Prove it, or else I may go pet that demon and decide to let it devour me.
Please.
I know there are people who challenge their guides for fun, but that’s not me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good little surprise confirmation – synchronicities, angel numbers, images popping up when I don’t expect them, that sort of thing. Always a good time. But in these particular circumstances, the “Prove It” times, it is a matter of utmost seriousness. That’s where Perry comes in.
Where I live there is a man who walks around town carrying an oversized fake red rose – the kind you get as a prize at a carnival. He simply walks around random neighborhoods at random times, waving his rose in the air: a magic wand of sorts, spreading love and joy and happiness wherever he goes. He waves his rose, he smiles broadly, cars honk at him and everyone feels better, lighter. Search for “Perry the Rose Man – Kankakee”, he’s the real deal. And he is, doubtless, a deity.
Unbeknownst to him, Perry serves another special purpose for me. He’s the “Prove It” sign. Because it is just as likely that you will see Perry as that you won’t, he is the perfect sign to ask for. If he shows up, I KNOW the Divine put him there to tell me yes, you are on the right path. I don’t use him very often – only when I’m wrestling my own demons and I honestly can’t see which way to go. If he doesn’t show up while I’m heading that direction, I start to rethink my compass. More than once, the minute I accept the path I need to be on (it’s usually the path I really don’t want to follow, of course), Perry will appear.
Perry the Rose Man acting as Divine Messenger. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, honestly. I’m sure something will present itself, but for now – I look for the rose.
And lastly, my least favorite type of communique. This is an extended message, played on repeat. Where the same problems cycle round and round, the same lesson presents itself, the same trouble and painful questions keep hijacking my thoughts. As you may have guessed, I’ve been dealing with this type of message quite a bit with regards to this damn situationship. (I feel like I need to come up with an acronym or code word for it, lol. TDS?). It’s a nagging, annoying, persistent yet deceptively gentle message that keeps slapping and pinching me until I cry. Those are the hardest messages for me to hear, the worst ones to work through, the biggest tests I face. Repeating mistakes is something I’ve become quite good at – I swear to myself that one of these days it will not require this much effort to get these things through my head. For now, it's on repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And it will stay on repeat until I finally allow it to nearly break me, and I am standing with my heart and my mind and my soul all torn and shattered at my feet, surrounded by tangled skeins of yarn floating in a moat of tears. Oh yes, it’s all very dramatic, I know. But I’m telling you, when I am IN IT, it is the worst.
The beauty of it, the gift within the pain, is that I know – I know – that I will not break. That I will crouch there, my fingers caught in the wet yarn, covered with shards of myself that cut like glass and burn like sandpaper, in utter darkness and defeat, as long as I need to. Then I will hear it. That still, small, magnificent voice.
I’ve got you.
And I will stand up, and try again.
(Image of a climbing plant, one leaf of which is angled in a way that makes it look like a heart - a love message from the plant.)
Until next time,
Rhon