A woo woo story

Three Angels

One day I woke up and wondered how much time I have left.

I thought about mortality and the challenges we’ve all faced lately.

So here’s the woo-woo part.

We took a Sunday drive to Pescadero, beautiful summer day, gorgeous, and we’re excited by our favorite little town. We took pictures of flowers and we stopped to look at the site of a restaurant we used to go to, that burned down years ago. A family place with a general store and a pizza oven and a big garden yard to relax in.

It’s rebuilt. Still empty, but a new building is complete.

Right then a gentleman came and answered our questions without being asked. He just joined us.

He insisted on telling us a joke or two. Usually that’s a sign to get walking asap, but he was really kind.

How come bananas have lots of friends? -They have a peel. You get the idea.

I’m eighty years old, he said. But I have friends who are over a hundred!

I was astonished- he actually was so healthy and fit he looked to be fifty.

He told us he walks the range of hills between Berkeley and Fremont and told us did you know you can find sea shells in the foot hills? It was once ocean floor.

He said look and opened his phone: here’s Mt Diablo, I walk with two waking sticks- and here’s a rock they call “Spock” because you can see a profile of pointy ears right in the crashing waves on the shore by Santa Cruz.

So ok, here’s a crazy old man who looks like he’s thirty but he’s close to one hundred and we’re starved let’s close this colloquy, am I right?

But he was so kind and generous with his positive outlook on life.

He walked us to the general store and there we parted to buy sandwiches and begin our outing.

While we were chatting I noticed he had dentures.

I’ve lost some teeth -part of my health challenges in the last 6 months; I’ve lost some of my uppers and it’s really tough- in this society we are all so harshly judged on our appearance and yes, I noticed he appeared to have dentures and noticed that they looked comfortable and like they fit well. I just noted that observation quietly to myself. It’s a personal anxiety. On my mind.

So that was a total interruption in our day, occurred as soon as we had parked. He just appeared there. And as quickly left.

So later I was thinking how in the morning I awakened with deep almost dangerous thoughts of mortality, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps sooner than later.

And within an hour we had met this guy, who put himself on our path, lifted our spirits, was a picture of health and vitality at an advanced age, and appreciated the ancient landscape of California as we do, and even the geology, which is kind of a hobby with me and he had the teeth thing figured out. And pretty quickly he was gone.

I thought that must be what it’s like to meet an angelic being. His message met the demand of the moment, my desultory meditation on death, with a message of life and continuing adventures.

Then I had the thought that mystics have asserted, that spirit-signs come in threes.

So right after sandwiches at the little general store, Ingrid bought a silver cookie cutter at an antique store right across the street- an angel. She loves it!

So I thought, well, possibly that’s the second angel but what about the third angel, if guidance comes in three?

I couldn’t see another angel sign, I scratched my head and thought.

Wait! What is the name of the country store where we all went and parted?

Arcangeli Grocery.

Archangel!

And -postscript -I shook hands (fist-bumped) with the gentleman and introduced myself and he told me his name: Manuel. Which is short for “Emmanuel” which is spiritual for divine presence.

You tell me.

Oh- later, while I was noting these things at home, I listened to a speaker online talking about our recent full moon and solstice (Summer!) and she mentioned the symbolism of how the deeper self seems to arise from the source as from depths of the sea, and the gentleman told us he saw sea shells up in the California hills.

***

Later that same week:

Woo woo -ology.

These unpredictable things are becoming predictable.

What the…? Dept

So I was just musing about an art project for no particular reason – the Day of the Dead altar we do each year. I was at work where we assemble it in the fall.

Then on my desk someone left an old jewelry box; a bit later my supervisor said oh that’s for your altar this year. I’m having another one turned into a music box and I don’t need this.

Then 20 minutes later I went to do residents laundry and 1/2 way done with folding. All Saints Day. Which is part of the two-day festival for Day of the Dead. Completely random -two unrelated people’s objects- and nearly simultaneous too.

The resident just brought that laundry from his apartment this week.