Life on a Platter

Despite any possible claims to the contrary, I did not spend my childhood running around singing “I Want to be Evil.” I left that to Eartha Kitt. Who was far more exciting. Who sang on key and in tempo.

We’re not all so blessed.

It was not unusual, however, for my parents to say their children wanted life handed to them on a silver platter. It’s what mid-twentieth parents said.

Honestly, I would have settled for a second bowl of corn flakes in a Corelle bowl.

I got good grades in school. Did chores. Shoveled walks and mowed for my Grandmother and neighbors. I was the family baker. I made cookies, brownies and desserts a few days a week. Excluding summer. In summer I baked pretty much every day. That happens in a hungry family.

What I wanted could not be given on a silver platter. What I wanted — and never got enough of — was privacy. Quiet. To be away from other people. To be alone. Because I was never alone.

I am never alone.

My platter has never been empty. There have always been friends, companions and others of a spirited nature.

How can we be alone when we have guardian angels?

Regardless of whether or not we think it is impossible to see and communicate with angels, it is very possible. At the very least, everyone can communicate with their angels. It’s all a matter of being willing to talk with them.

Keep open your lines of communication.

Ask questions. Ask lots and lots of questions. Ask the same questions lots of times.

If you don’t know the names of your guardian angel or any of the other angels around you, ask. That’s what we do when we meet somebody and don’t know their name. We ask.

Why would angels be any different?

The difference is us. We ask and think we are owed an immediate answer. There’s a problem with that. A really big problem.

You can’t hear answers if you aren’t quiet. Ask the question.

Then be still.

Then stop talking about how you’re being still.

Ask the question. Listen for a few hours. Ask again. Listen one more time.

It’s like walking. We practice. We take baby steps. We fall and get up again. Think of what it’s like watching an adult who has been in an accident or had a stroke. How it takes months of long arduous practice to learn how to walk again.

Except what you are doing is not physical therapy. It’s spiritual therapy.

Hearing our angels speak is not something handed to us on a platter.

We have to listen. It’s work. Learning and keeping inner stillness is work. Up until the point where it becomes second nature. Then it is an acquired talent.

It’s a gift.

You choose the platter. You decide what you want to go on it. It’s like a holiday feast. Do you have one platter for the main dish and all of the side dishes go on other plates and bowls? Or do you put some of the sides with the main dish?

Do you talk to your angels and wait for the answer? Or do you tell yourself what you think you want them to answer?

It’s like going to the grocery store for vegetables and instead buying bags of snacks and candies. You decide how you want to fill your spiritual platter. You put healthy food on a platter, it feeds the body and soul.

You fill up on spiritual junk food, you get spiritual junk.

If you go to sporting events in huge spaces or attend large concerts, you are leaving the quiet of your home for the crowds.

Imagine living in the melee.

To know you are surrounded constantly by angels and spirits. To have your relatives and friends pop in for a visit any time. Who needs a telephone when there’s telepathy? When you can speak with angels, your relatives, even God without opening your mouth?

We call it prayer.

If you can have a conversation with God or angels, you’ve got life on a platter.

Dig in.