Journal: Cancer And The Green Angel

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Journal excerpt: I’m coming up the my ninth [re-]birthday! I really am!

Nine years ago, last May, I went for extensive hospital tests (so we’re talking about May 2007), and as I sat on the end of the bed the oncology consultant returned to the room. He said,’ I’m guessing , Mr Gardner, you’re a person who likes to be told things quickly’. I nodded. He was professional and yet sensitive, and then said, ‘You have oesophageal cancer’.

The rest of the day was a blur. I can only describe it as total soul loss. It was as if I was disconnected from reality, that my being had received a hefty kick n the backside and been propelled a mile alway; and as people spoke to me, it was as if I was at the far end of tunnel, struggling to hear, struggling to comprehend, struggling to reply.

Sleep came late that night, as I thought about that awful news and further tests they were to do, and later, my memory was jolted to a dream I had had just weeks before.

Did you know God speaks through dreams – ancient sacred texts are full of such events. That some chemical discoveries (benzine?) were found when a scientist had (night) dream. And, that we’re continually in a light-sleep, daydream state throughout even our waking moments (but the physical events of the day ‘crowd out’ that dream-like, imaginative  state. It’s the way we’re wired up! To have dreams.

So, there was this angel, all green. Absolutely green. Green eyes, green skin, green clothes. Everything was green. So much green, that it was difficult to know where his body stopped and his unusual clothing started. He didn’t have any wings, but I just knew I was in the company of an extraordinary being. He must have been about 6ft 6 inches, well over 2m high and ‘solid’; he was built like a Olympic wrestler. And, there he was, standing in my garden as I looked out the living-room window. I have to admit I was somewhat confused and perplexed.

A dream it may have been, but I was aware. I knew what was going on. In that dream I was thinking and reasoning to with myself, and an internal dialogue was taking place about my next course of action. The very next moment I was in the garden, and just a few feet away from the angel. He started to walk away, as if to leave.

Immediately, my mind went into overdrive as I sought to delay him. The only thing I could think, was to ask him a question, to ask him if there was anything he needed.

‘Water,’ he said.

Immediately, I found myself in the kitchen, reaching for a glass and started to fill it with water. Even then, I was thinking of how to prolong this extraordinary encounter, and so I only half filled the glass. Surely, I thought, that won’t quench his thirst, and he’ll stay even longer.

I went back to the angel in the garden, and he took the glass of water, and drank. He turned slightly and started to leave. Again, in my dream I was reasoning how to make the most of this encounter. I knew I had enough time, probably, only for one question. I thought to myself, should I ask, ‘Is there a God’, but I had answered that one myself – after all, here’s an angel, a messenger from God. Still moving towards the garden wall as if to leave, the angel stopped monetarily, probably anticipating my one and only question.

‘What is God like?’, I asked. He replied, ‘Love(ly)’.

The reply was more of a ‘feeling’, an experience, rather than just words, and so his reply could have been ‘love’ or ‘lovely’. I like to think that in that Otherworldly, brief encounter where experiences are as important as words, and maybe, more so, that it was both of those words, and more! And, then the angel vanished.

I woke up, and over the next few weeks and months researched the Green Angel, and found that he appeared in the writings of at least two or three cultures, is a messenger of Life itself, and in Islam has an association with water, the water of Life.

I’m recounting this dream because it meant something to me, and still means a lot to me. There’s just a little bit more to this encounter. Timing.

This dream occurred a few weeks before that shocking diagnosis of cancer, and – the sceptic that I was, then – had it occurred after the diagnosis I would have explained it away as the mind trying to ‘comfort’ itself. But, it happened before all this, and was given at that time for me to ponder upon at a later stage, that is, at the time of diagnosis.

Some may discount dreams as the random firing of nuerons, or this dream as the result of a piece of undigested cheese laying in my stomach, but to me, it meant something profound, something reassuring. Howver, tough the time was ahead (and it was ), I took some comfort and strength from that dream. I knew that what would happen, would happen, and there was life beyond this.

The Time Of The Thaumaturgist #3

03 tnott word face pexels TIME 111 SML wristwatch copyEpisode 3: The air, as I stood in my garden, had a slight ‘bite’ to it, but the sun was shining against the side of Ty Gwyn, my oh-so-white-walled cottage near Capel Curig in north Wales, and though this was decidedly still ‘coat weather’, the day promised better things. It was 6am, and I had ‘greeted’ the new day, filled my lungs with fresh air, and the sun rays had beat against my skin, and my bare-feet felt the cold, wet grass underfoot. Bliss.

It was time to head back inside and have breakfast. My attention was arrested.

Having left the side door ajar – no one really uses the front door in rural areas – I noticed a set of wet boot prints evident on the stone doorstep. Bootprints? I was barefoot! I wasn’t expecting visitors, not today and certainly not at this early hour.

Gingerly, I crept inside the cottage. That door leads directly to the kitchen. And there he was! My ‘visitor’. I didn’t know his name, but twice now he had visited me in the past, and twice had he disappeared just as quickly. A real mystery.

Episode 1

Episode 2

Before I could say anything, he turned around in the chair, and supping a cup of tea, raised his eyebrows and nodded in the direction of the kitchen table, to indicate that he had made me a cup on tea.

HOME

‘Make yourself at home,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I knew you were going to say that,’ he replied, ‘and I have, but make yourself at home, too.

‘But this is my home,’ I said indignantly. Without a seconds pause, he spoke: ‘Oh, but it’s not. Not really. You and your kind, humankind, are passing through. Home is elsewhere. You asked me to remind you of that the last time we had a cup of tea together, knowing that you’d forget….and you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?’. He continued, ‘Mae mwy, there is more!’.

‘I really don’t know who you are,’ I said, ‘and I really don’t understand it when you say ‘there is more’, so why not just tell me who you are, and what your business is with me…please?’, I pleaded in exasperation.

‘Okay, it’s time for experiential theology 101. Are you ready? If so, take a seat, and relax’, the Visitor said.

‘Always,’ I replied, and sat down on the opposite side of the kitchen table to him, sipped a really well-made cup of tea, and closed my eyes, placed my hands on the table, palms down, and relaxed.

‘I’m just going to rest my hands on your hands, and when I do you will experience a glimpse of ‘home’,’ he said, ‘And, the sequences of events you will experience will seem bizarre and out-of-order, and it’ll only be in retrospect that you’ll even begin to make sense of them. Whatever happens, for the glimpse to be meaningful, you must not open your eyes until I tell you too.’  With my eyes closed, I nodded. A few seconds later I felt the palms of his hands rest on the top of my hands.

THE GLIMPSE

‘Only a glimpse,’ he said. His voice seemed to trail off into the distance and I only faintly heard the last syllable.  Immediately my whole body was encompassed in what I can only describe as ‘tangible love’. It was like taking a very warm shower but not getting wet, it pervaded every cell in my body with a ‘cosmic hug’, and it caught my breath. My eyes were closed, but I could feel tears of joy run down my cheeks, and I could hear myself laughing, as though someone had told me the funniest of jokes, a real hearty laugh that went on and on. The more I tried to stop, the more I laughed. My head was swimming, and my body jolted as though I was on a helter-skelter, but I could feel the kitchen chair beneath me. Laughing, disorientated, feeling warm, I was cocooned in pure, unadulterated love.

With my eyes closed, I shouted, ‘That’s enough!’. He calmly, and with an air of authority, he said’, There is more, so much more. Keep your eyes closed. Do not try to make sense of this now. This is but a glimpse, and a necessary glimpse. You’re doing well. Hold on!’.

With all that going on, I turned my head from left to right – my eyes remaining closed – and I ‘saw’ events from my life, as if in a picture-book where the pages had been rearranged and were out of order. I saw my wedding day, followed by my first day at primary school, my last day at secondary school, then I saw the time when the consultant sat me down and told me I had oesophageal cancer, followed by scenes of my birth, my first day at theological college, leading my first baptism service, I saw what happened yesterday, and more. This was followed by scene of an argument with a good friend that happened last week, then I saw the day that I first moved into the cottage near Capel Curig many years ago, and other events too, all in quick succession. A jumble of pictures, an anachronistic montage of two to three seconds worth of action for each stage of my life, followed by the ever-increasing sounds of others talking, some laughing, some crying, and smells, the smell of fish frying, of spring flowers, of the wind in my face, the taste of a salty ocean, and the smell of death, all mixed together, all connected and yet disconnected from the actions I saw.

It suddenly went quiet. You could have heard a pin drop.

Quiet, except that I could hear the sound of my own breathing. Heavy, laboured, exhausted. I couldn’t feel the Visitor’s hands on mine, and I opened my eyes. I wasn’t in the kitchen any more. I was in a majestic, grand, hall. It had no lights whatsoever, but I could see. I turned to my left, and there was the Visitor. He looked different: seven feet/over two meters tall, see-through almost, and emitting a wonderful radiant yellow light. He looked at me, and smiled the most loveliest of smiles and exuded peace. ‘You see me as I really am. What do you think?’ he said.

I could only fall to my knees, having been totally overwhelmed by the love and grace that swept in waves from this being of light. ‘You are so handsome, and so perfect and so powerful, ‘I said.

He laughed, and put his hand under my chin, as I knelt before him, to urge me to stand. He spoke: ‘I want you to see yourself as you really are, you and your kind, humankind; what you call humanity are really the ‘Great Ones’ whom my kind gladly serve, all nine billion of you. Look in the mirror, powerful being that you are’.

I looked. I saw a being three feet/one meter taller than even the Visitor. I too, was almost see-through and emitting a brighter, golden light. There was more. I felt so powerful, so free, and felt unlimited, and yet so connected to the Source, to others, to nature, to everything. The same, but separate!

Then, a swirling light appeared as if from nowhere, and it got closer, and closer, and there was a noise like a thousand tornadoes, but I wasn’t afraid. Almost as if knowing what to do, I grabbed the Visitors wrist and walked toward the light. ‘Ah,’ the Visitor spoke, ‘Now you’re beginning to remember, aren’t you?’.

The swirling light moved right through me and him, and I found myself in what could only be described as a café. No one there acted as if they could see me, as if I was just an unobserved observer – and I was , but I could see that I was standing in a 1920’s’style classical café with the smell of great coffee filling the air. Seated at tables were similar translucent beings emitting golden hues, some emitting red hues, or a blue light, and a myriad of other colours. And, on the far wall there was wide picture window that looked out on to deep space, then it changed to a forest scene, then it showed a huge white, pulsating light that exuded grace, and then back to depict a deep-space scene! Incongruent.

I knew this place. I had been here before. We all had. Before birth. Pre-life. I smiled at the Visitor. ‘Brace yourself. It gets even more confusing’, he said.

He was right. At one table nearby, were three beings all  emitting a golden light, so much so that their light’s brilliance connected them in one, huge, golden ball of light, of love, of connectedness, of authenticity. I knew one of them was me. There I was drinking coffee in some kind of celestial café. The other two beings: one I just seemed to know was my mother who had ‘passed on’ just over two years earlier. The other was my father who was still alive in London. ‘But, how….?’, I gasped. I looked at the Visitor somewhat confused. He guessed my real question.

He spoke: ‘By the physical realm’s standard your mother passed on two years ago and yet here she is, alive. Your father, by earth’s standards is still ‘down there’ and alive, but here he is, and with you at that table, too. You see, ‘down there’ and ‘up here’ is all the same, in reality. They are just metaphors, and notions of placement will only take us so far spiritually. Humankind just think there’s a separation. Whilst you’re all ‘down there’, you’re all also ‘up here’ –  you never really left this place. All three of you together, without separation, even when you ‘get back’ to Earth, you’re all still here. If you want to think in ‘time’ terms, imagine that those three people at that table  – you, your mother, your father – sitting at that table, just popped down to Earth for a nano-second, as do all of humanity, a whole life-time on Earth is really the time, here, that it takes for  a blink of an eye, and there you all are, ‘back’, enjoying each others company for all eternity. And why the café? It’s a glimpse, a metaphor of heaven, but not the whole thing.

‘But, why do we all visit Earth?, I asked.

He spoke again: ‘All of humankind was in this place, is in this place and will always be in this place, but it is beneficial for each of you to visit the Earth. You see, you all agree to go. You discussed with the Source, what you would do ‘down there’, how it would benefit you and others, the jobs you would get, who you would fall in love with, who you would meet – or meet again, because the ones you meet ‘down there’ you’ve already met ‘up here’, and then you discuss with the Source how you will exit the Earth and return home (though, remember, you never really left).’.

JUST WHO ARE THE GREAT ONES?

He continued, ‘And once you’re birthed on Earth you forget, when in that physical realm – but remember, you’re also here with your loved-ones. And then it all begins. You don’t remember your mission, you forget what will happen to you, when ‘down there’, you don’t understand the illnesses and misfortunes that affect you and others, and you don’t know why the Source would take loved ones away from you. It’s a mystery to you, there, but not so here.  And all that I’ve shown you and said to you applies to all of humankind, all of the ‘Great Ones’. But, there are two things each person should know:  though it is a mystery it is all worthwhile, and though it makes no sense whilst you (think you) are on Earth (only), it will one day make complete sense when you’re here (but, you never really left). But, there’s something else all should know. Though you forget how your life will unfold and what will happen to you on Earth, any course of action you take ‘down there’…well, you cannot go wrong. So, don’t worry too much if you’re on the right spiritual course or not. All shall be well’.

He concluded, ‘It’s time to go’.

I took hold of his wrist, and that swirling light re-appeared and came towards us, so bright and so loud. As we stepped through into the light I looked back at those three golden,  tall beings of light. In just the last two seconds of perception, as that cosmic café seemed to melt away, one of the beings stood, looked in my direction and bowed a low bow. I cried. I knew that that being was me in bliss. It was strange to witness myself as another, and yet be connected at the same time. I knew it was the same for every man, woman and child on earth, those that had gone home and those that were yet to come. All in bliss. All safe. All part of the Source and yet distinct. All light-beings, all love, all powerful! I knew that what I had just witnessed was witnessed by all of humanity if they could only but remember just their own personal glimpse of bliss in whatever form it manifested itself.

HOME AGAIN

My body jolted. I nearly fell off my chair. The Visitor had given me a right-hook, a powerful punch to the right side of my jaw, almost knocking me off my chair.

‘What did you do that for?’ I shouted in anger, and in a fair amount of pain.

‘It’s the quickest way to ‘wake’ you,’ he said calmly. ‘If none of that made sense, it will do in time. But remember, it was only a glimpse, it was a metaphor of what really is, and, yes, there is more.’

I sipped my cup of tea, turned to put it in the microwave to re-heat it, as it had gone cold. I noticed the clock on the microwave showed 6.56am. Had that ‘visit’, which seemed to take just five minutes, really lasted over fifty minutes? I turned to ask the Visitor, but… he’d gone.

I was left with more questions than before, but I knew he’d be back. After all, mae mwy, there is more, for us all!

The Time Of The Thaumaturgist #2

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It was a bright and sunny day, albeit a somewhat chilly March day in London. Walking briskly toward the café before leading a service at St Chad’s later on, I couldn’t help but notice the scarves wrapped tightly around the necks of passers-by, hats of every colour being worn, and that, others were walking, like me, briskly to generate some body heat. It was a very chilly day. It was one of those ‘no cloud, blue sky, but ‘don’t-stay-outside-too- long’ days that occur around this time of the year, here.

COFFEE-OLOGY
As I opened the café door, the comforting aroma of freshly-brewed coffee filled my nostrils, there was the familiar murmur of indistinct chatter, and warm air enveloped me like an invisible, comforting, almost tangible ‘welcome-back’ hug. A drip, due to the change in temperature, hung on the end of my nose and tickled (and, yes, I left it there, well, at least for a few seconds to enjoy the experience), and my stomach churned in anticipation. This place was my second home….well, third home, but it’s a long story.

Moving toward the only place that was free – a place on the bench, communal table, in the centre of the café, I disrobed and hung my coat and scarf, and knitted hat of many colours (avec un pompon) on the back of the chair, as did everyone else (that is, on their own respective chairs), except the guy sitting opposite me. He, busy typing on his iPad, oblivious to everyone around him, and seemed not to have any outer layers on his chair, and was dressed in an unseasonal open neck, thin cotton-like shirt and shorts! No scarf. No woolly hat. No outer coat.

As I sat down, I caught the eye of the barista, who smiled and nodded a knowing nod, and who started to prepare the usual latte for me, with an oh-so-welcome warm croissant. My stomach ‘groaned’ in expectation, and I pulled out my IPad from my backpack, placed it on the table, to check my emails.

Twenty-five emails!

Oh boy. As I trashed most of them – and answered the remaining few, I was caught by surprise. I had trashed twenty ‘buy this’ type of emails, but the figure ’21’ appeared in the trash folder.

‘There is more?’, I questioned, out loud, though I had intended to say it only to myself.

‘Mae mwy*,’ came the reply from the shirt and shorts guy, opposite.

That phrase! Could this be the ‘shadow man’, who had used that phrase before; the one who described himself as being ‘like an angel’, and who had saved that elderly woman’s life by knocking her down and (only) breaking her ankle? It sounded like him, but it was such a brief encounter before, and it was some weeks ago. [[Previous episode, #1]

I wasn’t entirely sure if it was him. But, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end as he spoke, and though I was in a warm café, an icy chill now enveloped me just for a second or two.

‘Pardon?,’ I said.

‘Mae mwy*, it’s Welsh for ‘there is more’, he said in an exquisite Welsh ‘valley’ accent. ‘It’s what you said in English,’ he said, and smiled.

‘Rw i’n dy ddeal di!**’, I replied in my north Wales ‘wilderness’ accent [which means ‘I do understand you!’], and smiled a somewhat sarcastic smile, widening my grin just a little more than usual, raising my eyebrows, and tilting my head.

He continued typing on his IPad, as did I.

THEOLOGY
A few minutes later he spoke again. ‘What do you see, Tadhg?’.

Having finished my emails, and closing the iPad into the add-on keyboard, I smiled, and now had some time to engage this mysterious, unseasonally-dressed guy, and, perhaps, find out if he was, indeed, the ‘shadow man’ I had encountered some weeks earlier.

‘So, what do you see, Tadhg?,’ he said again.

‘Well. I see the latte and croissant the barista has just brought over!’, I replied.

‘That’s a good start’, he said. I wasn’t sure now if he was being sarcastic.

He continued, ‘I know you know that there are three ways of perceiving reality as your type perceive it, but sometimes it’s just good to pause and take it slow and really know. It’ll help you in the future, for what is ahead.’

‘Do you know, you have me at a disadvantage. I really don’t know what you mean. What is my type? What does the mean? What is going to happen in the future? How will this help me?’, I quizzed him.

‘It sounds bizarre, Tadhg, so I’ll take it slow’, he said, and now I knew he was being sarcastic, paying me back for my sarcasm to him, earlier. ‘We’ve met before. Your kind, which includes all the people in this café, and indeed all the people on the planet have been around, in another form, for some time before physical birth. Think, ‘big bang!’. It’s just that you can’t remember it now in this form, well, at least for a little while, but one day you will, when you’re home again. And your type? We call you ‘the Great Ones’, and if you need more information, as a book-lover, check out C S Lewis’s ‘The Great Divorce’ which will explain more about the phrase and your kind, and your kind’s amazing status’.

He paused as if to let me digest that information, and then continued, ‘Knowing that all that happens in the future is something you’ve agreed to, and you have (before birth), will get you and your kind through some tough challenges ahead in this life. And knowing, that ultimately, all roads lead home will spur you on, will assure you all, immensely. You will draw strength from that. All planned. All agreed by you. A touch of telluric-amnesia, perhaps. And then, finally, back home.’

‘But there’s more’, he said, rather pleased with himself that that was the umpteenth time he had used that phrase. There’s the three ways of seeing things! I know you know about that, but now must know that. Go deeper!’.

I was intrigued. Slightly uneasy that those to my left and right might hear the conversation, which was an odd conversation to say the least, but, as if by magic, they seemed oblivious to me, the strange guy and the conversation.

I looked at the croissant on the plate, paused, then bit into it, chewed and sipped the coffee, and kept both in my mouth, momentarily. I know. An awful habit to mix the two in my mouth, but so wonderful. Bliss! Before I could swallow, he continued.

‘There are three ‘depths’ or realms to everything, including your croissant. Firstly, there’s the shallow, surface understanding. Taking the croissant as an example, I’m sure you can tell me it’s composition by analysis, where it came from by pointing to the map, how it was made, and the marks of a good and bad croissant. You like warm croissant, don’t you?’, he said, without pausing for an answer. ‘That’s first level perception. The senses. The physical. The visible realm.

‘The second level of perception and second realm’, he said, ‘is the intelligible realm, the invisible realm, and understanding of that comes not by the senses but by the mind, by reason and imagination. I’m sure you can tell me about the goodness of that croissant, and the effect it will have on your body, and what that means. Bread is life. You know that. It’s reasonable to believe that. It’s about going deeper’, this man of mystery said, and who now had my full attention.

‘But, there’s even more,’ he continued’, the third level of perception and reality is the ‘why? and beyond’. The spiritual realm. The fact that you need it, to eat, to live, and have been given it, and by whom is a mystery, that is beyond reason, and can only be merely accepted and enjoyed. It’s why each time you eat, first thing in the morning, whether it’s a cereal breakfast at home, or this croissant this morning in this café, you pause and pray the HaMotzi*** blessing over it each time’.

‘Hold on,’ I interjected’. How do you know that? It’s true I do say that blessing over whatever I eat first thing in the day, sometimes at home, sometimes here in the café, sometimes under my breath so as not to attract attention in a public space, and sometimes just in my head. But how do you know that?’.

‘Ah, each time you do that, he replied, ‘I’m right there, invisibly, right by your side joining in, in gratitude, to the Great Provider. I never miss an opportunity for giving gratitude. You know, If your kind in their current state, when they pray, could see the awesome vicarious power you spur into action and mingle with, the magnitude of that pure and loving energy that you invoke and direct, the ripples that permeate from you that affect both space and time itself, the interest of the Great Provider who is always near you (all) and yet draws closer still in awe of you all, you would pray a lot more, and a lot more confidently. I wish your kind could glimpse just for a second the power of it now, that you were all once aware of, when you where at Home, before birth, and see what I see.  It’s a powerful gift given to all from the Great Provider. This is the third and deepest level of perception and of reality, and you need to be aware of it, really aware of it, the power of Spirit, and use it in the days of transition ahead. You and your kind.’

With that, he picked up his iPad, walked toward the door, as I tried to fully recall what he had just said. His words were going over and over in my mind. He opened the café door to leave. I knew I had the opportunity of asking only one question before he left.

‘Will you be back?’, I asked. ‘Of course’, he replied, ‘Mae mwy, there is more’.

–  oOo –

 

*     Mae mwy [pronounced ‘may moy-oh’] roughly translates as, ‘There is more.’
**   Rw i’n dy ddeal di [pronounced ‘RRoo een duh theh-arll dee’] roughly translates as ‘I do understand you!’.
*** The HaMotzi blessing is, ‘Blessed are you, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth’, and is said by Tadhg before eating cereal breakfast or croissant each day. He loves liturgy and ritual, and sees it as a conduit to that third realm, that third level of perception.

Confessio #2

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One of my confessions is, that…I believe in angels.

That is, I believe that angels exist and that they interact with humankind on a personal level, and have done so for thousands of years, and still do so, today.

There, I’ve admitted it.

Please don’t think, however, that I’m talking about fairies – though that in itself might be the topic for another day, elsewhere, and I know some very clever and wise people who accept their existence.

Nor am I’m talking about some of the ‘chewing gum’ tv programs about angels who resolve an individuals’ ‘challenge’;’ and then move on – rather like that old tv program, ‘The Littlest Hobo’, which may be great entertainment, but is not so accurate when it comes to theology. Now, I’m feeling really old, as ‘The Littlest Hobo’ was screened decades ago!

And, lastly, please don’t confuse this with the wonderful, though weird, androgynous-looking angels of medieval classic artists who have ‘hulking, great big’ dove-like wings (the angels, that is, and not the artists), nor those ‘flying baby’ angels with rosey-red cheeks on Christmas or Easter cards, who seem to be looking in odd directions, clothed in wispy veils that might ‘fail’ at any moment, and have wings of butterflies.

Phew! Still with me? I hope so.

One angelic encounter I had was of the ‘Green angel’ in a night-dream. The dream was vivid and so important to me, and was one that I found re-assuring, as it occurred at about the time of an oesophageal cancer diagnosis. Now, I was the sceptical sort at the time, and had that angelic encounter occurred after the diagnosis, I would have probably dismissed it and said that was the brain’s way, my way of coping with such awful news. But, this encounter, in a dream and no less real, occurred several weeks before the cancer diagnosis was made. That’s what made it so interesting, as I drew strength from it, but only several weeks later, and it helped immensely. There’s more about that encounter: here.

So what, or who are angels?

The angels I’m talking about are ‘deity-helpers’, however, you define your deity/deities. They can appear in a multitude of forms in the physical realm and in the imaginal-daydream realm and in the night-dream realm. Perhaps, how they appear has more to do with us and our perception, or their accommodating to our perception of them, as if to do us a favour.

Now the Lord appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, while he was sitting at the tent door in the heat of the day. Abraham looked up and saw three men standing nearby. Genesis 18: 1-2a

Wings?

An interesting fact in the quote above, is that here’s an account of an angelic encounter by Abraham, who ‘mistakes’ them for men. Wings, it seems, are optional. Had they had wings, they wouldn’t have been mistaken for men.

“You say God speaks to you, but it’s only your imagination.” These are the words spoken by the inquisitor to Joan of Arc during her trial for heresy. “How else would God speak to me, if not through my imagination?” Joan replied.

Imaginal?

Another interesting fact is that Abraham was resting, maybe somewhat tired, and doing so in the heat of the sun. In that kind of potential slumber, day-dreamy state, or sleep-but-not-quite-sleep, maybe the appearance was in the ‘imaginal realm, but no less real!

It’s for that, and several other reasons, that I, as part of my work, lead one-to-one sessions and workshops in angelic encounters, using creative visualisation, ushering discerning men and women in (and out) of the imaginal realm of power and potential.

What is mankind that you are mindful of them, a son of man that you care for him? You made them a little lower than the angels; you crowned them with glory and honour and put everything under their feet. Hebrews 2: 6b-8a

Your status?

Lastly, and just as interesting is that angels assist each one of us, whether we know it or not. They minister as though we were senior-but-not-senior. A bit like an Courts’ Advisor (that would be them) appointed you a young King (that would be us) who would one day rule in his own right, but not just yet. Indeed, sacred text says as much as this. Created in God’s image, mankind is made lower than the angels, whilst on Earth. And, a few verses later, Jesus is said to have been made lower than them, temporarily. So, your status, cosmically, is that of being higher than angels! And, maybe that’s why they minister to us. They are mankind-helpers who know our true status in the universe.

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason,
how infinite in faculties, in form and moving,
how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god! Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’

Close encounters in London?

There are accounts of angels throughout recorded history, and even current accounts of their interactions. Here’s one link, below, of a surprised tv presenter, referring to what has now become known as ‘the angel of the River Thames’, in London.

What about you?

So, have you had an angelic encounter or more than one. If you have, please let me know. If you would rather not leave a comment, do email me at: tadhg@tadhg.cymru

Similarly, if you you like to know more about angelic encounter sessions and workshops and other events, do contact me, direct, at the email address, above. More information about such sessions and events led by me can be found: here

Green Angel Encounter

pexels 111 green angel  nature sunny-man-person

Journal excerpt: So, there was this angel, all green. Absolutely green. Green eyes, green skin, green clothes. Everything was green. So much green, that it was difficult to know where his body stopped and his unusual clothing started. He must have been about 6ft 6 inches, well over 2m high and ‘solid’, built like a wrestler. And, there he was, standing in my small inner-city garden as I looked out the living-room window. I have to admit I was somewhat confused and perplexed.

A dream it may have been, but I was aware. In that dream I was thinking and reasoning to with myself, and an internal dialogue was taking place about my next course of action. The very next moment I was in the garden, and just a few feet away from the angel. He started to walk away, as if to leave.

Immediately, my mind went into overdrive as I sought to delay him. The only thing I could think, was to ask him a question, to ask him if there was anything he needed.

‘Water,’ he said.

Immediately, I found myself in the kitchen, reaching for a glass and started to fill it with water. Even then, I was thinking of how to prolong this extraordinary encounter, and so I only half filled the glass. Surely, I thought, that won’t quench his thirst, and he’ll stay even longer.

I went back to the angel in the garden, and he took the glass of water, and drank. He turned slightly and started to leave. Again, in my dream I was reasoning how to make the most of this encounter. I knew I had enough time, probably, only for one question. I thought to myself, should I ask, ‘Is there a God’, but I had answered that one myself – after all, here’s an angel, a messenger from God. Still moving towards the garden wall as if to leave, the angel stopped monetarily, probably anticipating my one and only question.

‘What is God like?’, I asked. He replied, ‘Love(ly)’.

The reply was more of a ‘feeling’, an experience, rather than just words, and so his reply could have been ‘love’ or ‘lovely’. I like to think that in that Otherworldly, brief encounter where experiences are as important as words, and maybe, more so, that it was both of those words! And, then the angel vanished.

I woke up, and over the next few weeks and months researched the Green Angel, and found that he appeared in the writings of at least two or three cultures, is a messenger of Life itself, and has an association with water, the water of Life.

I recount this dream only because it meant something to me, and still means a lot to me. And would dearly enjoy hearing any of your similar encounters.

There’s just a little bit more to this encounter. Timing. Some months after this dream (and it was eight years ago), I was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer and my world was turned upside down for over a year as I underwent tests, endoscopies of various sorts, drugs, chemo, radiation and a massive operation. However, tough times that they were, I took some comfort and strength from that dream.

Interestingly, that dream occurred even before the cancer diagnosis. Had it happened after the diagnosis – sceptic that I was, then – I would have probably said that that dream was a natural, cerebral, to-be-expected, reaction to offset the alarming news of cancer. Maybe the product of undigested cheese! But, it couldn’t have been a reaction, nor any of those things, as it happened even before the diagnosis, even before symptoms had appeared, even before I knew that my life was about to be shook to its foundations and wouldn’t be the same again. It was almost as if this Otherworldly visitor knew that this message had to be delivered beforehand, otherwise it would have been dismissed. I couldn’t dismiss this encounter, and I’m pleased I didn’t.