The Angels Have More to Say

When an email from Joanne, the Angel Lady (www.angelic-art.com),  popped in to my inbox the other day, I was completely surprised.  “It’s very unusual to get more info after a session but they woke me up,” she wrote about her angels.  “We come to speak of Anne,” they said to her.  Here, in part, is what Joanne had to tell me:

Scarf as Past Life Clue

Anne had left behind a woven wool scarf of many colors.  I can’t explain it but I just knew it was no coincidence the Universe brought us together, let alone for her to leave the scarf behind accidentally.  I knew the scarf she left behind was a trigger for something for me to remember how we connected from a past life.  My guides reminded me that Anne and I had many lifetimes together as both of us were revered artisans from Pompei to Rome to England, even going back to Atlantis.  Anne’s reading showed that she and I shared a lifetime in the English Cotswolds, where the main business was wool weaving at that time (remember the scarf!) 

When I asked my guides how I knew Anne, they had me spell out RIL.  I looked it up on the Internet and to my surprise RIL was the last name of an artist from the Cotswold region known for his pastoral scene paintings.  I heard, “Is it any surprise you would dedicate 15 years of your lifetime this time to live in NEW England painting historic town scenes from this era?”  I looked up the art of this man, John Ril and it was like looking at my own art and an instant deja vu took place.

As for Anne, the cellular memory of that lifetime, where she lost all her possessions in a fire, was very, very deep.  When something is so vivid such as that horrific experience, many times it is brought forward into this lifetime to learn from and forgive anyone connected to that period.  It was no coincidence that as a child of 2 in this lifetime, Anne was badly burned on her right leg.  She needed closure as it was hard for her to step forward (hence the right leg which represents moving forward in her life). It is also the male side or giving side.

Some things we simply cannot understand but I always believe in keeping an open mind to see what the Universe has in store for us.  Only the future will tell where all of this will take us.

In case you are interested, I’m meeting Joanne on Saturday to retrieve the colorful wool scarf. 

When you are told you have had a past life with someone, does anyone know the correct protocol for greetings in this life?  It’s an interesting question to ponder.

If I was more than a little concerned about the “woo woo” nature of my last post, I will confess that this story leaves me speechless.  And that is half the fun of this lifetime!

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What the Angels Say

While visiting a law firm client, I saw the most fascinating paintings on their walls.  “Tell me about these,” I asked Michael, the founding partner.  “Oh, those are angel paintings,” he said.  “Some are portals and others are just inspired works.  The angel lady does them.  She sees angels and can tell you what they are saying about you.”  I was intrigued and to make the long story short, that’s how I ended up having an appointment with Joanne Macko.

From the moment I entered her house, there was a pervasive energy floating about that made me tingle.  Joanne gave a short tour of her art room before we went to her “healing room”.  There, she had me lay down and for about 45 minutes, I took a nap while she worked her magic.  Sometimes I could hear her talking, other times she seemed to be furiously scribbling down notes, and there were the occasional ringing of bells and placement of oils.  All in all, it was a remarkably cool experience and I must say that am no stranger to metaphysical experiences.  “I feel like I lost 10 pounds,” was the first thing I said to Joanne as we began to discuss the treatment.  “Oh, you did,” she replied with a smile.

Joanne shared a number of fascinating things with me not the least of which was a past life experience that floored me.  She said I had a life in the Cotswolds of England in which my village was taken over in a raid.  As the invaders moved through the area, they torched as many homes as they could including mine.  All my possessions went up in flames.  I too was burned but escaped the house with minor injuries.  More importantly, after the fire, I froze.  I was afraid to move forward and rebuild my life.  The right leg, where my burns from this life live, represents the ability to move forward Joanne told me.  During my “nap” on her table, she saw the cellular memory from the past life had rested in my right leg and she and the angels released it.  “Move forward now,” she said.

You may or may  not believe in angels or any person’s ability to work with them.  You may or may not believe in past lives.  It’s edgy stuff for some.  For Joanne, the angels changed her life.  She had a near death experience and heard from them directly, then saw them guide her life.  She was a top-ranked USTA doubles champion and quit.  She painted sweet tableaux of New England charm.  She quit that too.  Now, she sees her life’s work as helping people hear from the angels and painting the scenes they show her (www.angelic-art.com).  Joanne also doesn’t advertise and sees all her clients by referral, just as I came to see her.  In the past 10 years, thousands of people have visited her Naperville home.  And that’s what the angels said.

Where Does Memory Come From?

My heart skipped an extra beat when I was talking to my sister Susie this holiday to wish her season’s greetings.  At the same time, I was thinking how to finesse a segue to her memories of the day I burned my leg, which I realized was probably impossible to do so subtly.  And so I just asked, “On another note, Susie I have this memory of you telling me that you smelled me burning and told mom to go upstairs and check on me.  Is that at all accurate?”  Susie, the consummate Ph.D. in psychology, paused as she would normally do to process the question and her response.  “I have to tell you Annie,” she said and hesitated a bit.  “I don’t remember a thing about that day.”  My mind swirled.  How could that be?  The story I long remembered was that she and I were playing downstairs in the basement.  Mom was with us just feet away, ironing and talking on the phone.  I saw that image clear as day.  How could Susie, who was a whole 18 months older than me, not have any recollection? 

“How old would I have been then,” she asked. 

“You would have been 3 and a half.  I was just a couple weeks shy of two.”

“Well, I guess that’s why I don’t remember anything.  I was so young.  I’m sorry.  Tell me what you remember.”  And so I did, my memory being much more vivid than what she knew or recalled, even though I know she was there with me that day.

Where exactly does memory come from?  How can we recollect something so clearly that someone else hasn’t registered?  It’s one of those mysteries that has to be accepted and is absolutely befuddling.  I so wanted confirmation of my memory and at the same time, know that when you embark on a journey to uncover the past, you simply have to accept whatever it is that you find.

Getting My Voice On

Some people might find getting burned in a fire difficult to connect with how, when and why I became an actor but that is essentially part of my story line and are inextricably linked.  As the burn story goes, my sister Susie always told me how she “smelled” me from her perch in the basement that morning and told my mom who was ironing away down there with her to check on me. There she found me, stuck to and burning on the stove. As Susie tells the story, I was silent. Not crying out or calling for help. It seems I had lost my voice.

 So today when I voiced tags* for 29 tv commercials across the country, I silently counted my blessings. A number of years ago, I found my voice and I don’t think I would have realized it had I not gone through the fire. The story is too long for a single post but this blog helps me tell it in my stylish, compartmentalized way.  Even this snippet focuses me on two things:  1) I need to have another conversation with sister Susie to see if the wives tale I’d heard is still her story today; and 2) Soren Kierkegaard‘s quote mirrors my own thoughts these days, “Life can only be understood backward but it must be lived forward.”

That Baby Book Again on My Birthday December 8th

Now that I am a regular reader of my own baby book, I thought I would share this entry from my mother on December 8th, my birthday, the year of the burn, “Anne spent her 2nd birthday in St . Vincent’s Hospital. We didn’t recall to her it was her birthday, but every few days took a gift up for her.” It’s unclear whether I spent my 2nd birthday or my 3rd birthday in the hospital — my mother’s entries had some inconsistencies on the years. It’s understandable of course, the woman was going through some rather traumatic stress in her own right. When I think about this, I might have done exactly the same thing with my small child if faced with a similar situation. I mean, why remind them of something they probably wouldn’t understand anyway. In any event, happy birthday to me. How would you handle a situation like this with a 2- or 3-year old?

Happy Burn-iversary!

Today is the anniversary of my ill-fated climb up the kitchen stove, according to the best research source I currently have — my blue baby book. Without evidence-based confirmation from a verified medical record, which I may or may not ever find, I rely on my mother’s elegant script in the baby book, where she marks this date in an eerily understated entry, “My oh my. Another big scare with Anne……”. This is the first year in the more than 40 since that I’ve even known the date — the first time I’ve looked in that ole baby book to check it.

Parents Notes- Mom's description of accident

Putting on my detective hat and with the not-so-clever use of the Internet, I see that November 24th way-back-when was a Tuesday just two days before Thanksgiving. I wonder so many things — what were their Thanksgiving plans that week? Who was cooking? Did their plans change when I went into the hospital for a 2 1/2 month stay? Did they visit that day? Was I in surgery on Thanksgiving? Did they cry when it happened?

To date, I’ve interviewed a number of my parents’ friends and relatives and no one remembers that specific week, those specific activities. In the end and in the big picture, I know it doesn’t matter so much but it is still a nagging curiosity even though I feel more like a voyeur to my own story than its main character. Is that how I cope? I’ve always been expert at compartmentalizing and I wonder if this is why.

In all of this, the most important piece is that I’ve found resolution and peace. In the most fortunate of ways, I heard my parents own words many years later. That they wished they had spoken of this earlier. That they loved me. That it changed their lives far more than mine. I’m lucky this way. Many people for many reasons don’t open this door. Have you?

What’s Your Fire?

The other night a friend, Kay, who has been reading this blog told me her own story. At 4, she was involved in an accident that left her back and neck burned with collateral damage to her ear. It had all the clear markings of a very bad burn. Yet she didn’t know the details of the accident. When she asks her dad, “What happened?”, she is referred to her mother. When she asks her mother, the story she’s told doesn’t add up. So she’s left in a quandary of sorts but has found a way to make peace with it. Being of the spiritual mindset, Kay believes everything happens for a reason and the resolution we DON’T find in this life carries with us to the next — call it karma, call it reincarnation, call it the law of cause-and-effect — we choose to let history repeat itself until we address it. That’s great motivation to explore the fires that rage within us and can counter the nagging downside risk, “What’s the worst thing I can find out?” What’s your fire?