Divine Guidance~Ever Supportive in Every Generation…

[But Also Telling Our Young Ones It’s Time To “Wake Up !!”]

The compelling indwelling is speaking to me this morning, and this babbling brook has something to say. And honestly my friends, it is not a rant. Nobody is right or wrong in this monologue; it is merely an observation of generations and why each generation perceives things differently.

I was just standing at my front door this morning watching the school buses and cars pulling into the school parking lot, when I recalled so many conversations about “when I was a kid….” and “we walked 20 miles to school every day, uphill both ways”. Ok, that was meant to be humorous, and it is.

I just stood there pondering our past generations. It cannot be denied; they WERE a heartier bunch than we are, and we are oftentimes a heartier bunch than many of those who came well after us, and that is why those of us who have lived a little–even though we are not the ancient ones just yet–still have some degree of wisdom based upon what we have seen throughout our own lifetimes, and the guidance we have allowed from the “other side”. We, and those who came before us, could not have survived without it.

I really mean no offense when I say this, but it appears to me that the wimpiest, whiniest,  least healthy, most narrowest-minded generation are the ones we are observing in the media right now …I don’t want to classify them but if I were going to do so, the term I would use begins with “M”.  Though I love them to pieces, I can’t help wondering why they are so stunted and don’t appear to be evolving. Do they even know we are here to evolve? Do they know that with a faith based almost entirely in science and technology, with no consciousness of spirit, that there is little room for growth? Oh sure, they can and will learn more through their technologies, but where is their experience? What do they know of having chosen a journey and walking it with guidance? They think I’m daft for even questioning it! I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have asked, “What do you believe in?” The answer, invariably, is “I don’t know.” Well wake up and smell the roses (Angels are known more for roses than for coffee). I want to say, “Pick something! Anything!”

I realize there are many who exaggerate (like the aforementioned 20 mile, uphill both ways thing), but for the most part, I–as a mother and a grandmother–do wish the generation including some of those I raised would recognize that I am not one of the exaggerators.

Both of my grandfathers worked on the railroad, all year long, despite weather conditions, and walked many miles to and from their jobs. One lived over 80 years, the other into his mid-90’s.

My parents….for REAL….put in almost a full day’s chores before walking several miles to and from school, and then went to work after school, sometimes only earning a quarter for whatever jobs they could find to help their large families at home.

My mother was one strong cookie until she became ill at 85, diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that floored her rheumatologist since most people with that disease were 40 years younger than she. I still remember that first visit with him, when he looked at her and said, “What are you doing getting an autoimmune disease at your age??” She thought he meant it was because she was too young. Little did she know until he explained, that he meant she was too old for it! Even so, it was another 4 years before that disease began to take its toll. She was 90 when she passed just a year ago.

There is no argument that not everyone lives that long; there are always extenuating circumstances….Coal miners, chrome-platers, addicts, etc…

But kids….really….this is the honest-to-god truth; I wouldn’t lie to you. When we were children, school was rarely cancelled, and only if there was like 4 feet of snow….and not because buses couldn’t get through it, but because we couldn’t walk it. If you lived in Geneva, the only ones who even had buses were coming from at least 10 miles away. I DO remember walking to and from school-a good mile or two at least–in below freezing temperatures, because most families only owned one car and my mother bundled me up to be able to take it….  “I can’t put my arms down!!” rings more true than you know….and that scarf over my mouth to keep my own warm breath close to me worked well. 

My grandparents and elderly great-aunts and great-uncles (and being Italian, believe me, there were quite a few) were indeed a hearty bunch.

My parents and again–aunts and uncles–were also a hearty bunch–sometimes working 7 days a week, 2 or even 3 jobs–to support their families. When my father worked for True Temper, and they would vote to strike, he hated it. He hated striking and always found some sort of outside job (usually with the church or my catholic school), and my brother, 7 years my senior, would bring his paper route earnings home to contribute to groceries.

We were strong and capable, damnit….and still are when we remember who we are and what we come from. Many of us had so few prescriptions for antibiotics during our childhood, you could count them on one hand… We knew….our parents knew….our healing didn’t come from immunizations and medications. There was always something else at work, and we just grew up aware of it.

Remembering who we are and what we come from is not a matter of heritage or genetics. Who we are is beloved of the Divine, ever guarding and protecting and inspiring and uplifting and cherishing……What we come from is pure and absolute spirit. It is knowledge of that fact that allowed the previous generations, the perseverance born of faith….and constant awareness of angelic and spiritual companionship.

All of us grew up with gardens and parents who knew not only how to tend those gardens, but to reap enough food to get us through the winter. And yes….still not exaggerating….they did this while working those 7 day a week jobs, and keeping lovely homes. I remember upon planting, my parents blessing their little garden patch, and upon harvesting, blessing it once again. Talk about loaves and fishes….Wow, that little patch produced enough not only for our family all winter, but friends and neighbors as well!

I think of my grandparents coming over here from Italy to give their families and descendants a better life. And they did. They didn’t do it with either government or medical interference.

When someone got sick, the doctor was happy to come to the home, and we all had our immunizations. I think back then there were two– they were for polio and whooping cough.  Any other health benefits were ultimately Divine, and that generation KNEW it to their bones…..

We were indeed a hearty generation, and when left alone, are able to remain hearty by having learned how to take care of ourselves on many different levels. We learned it from our hearty parents who learned it from theirs.

No exaggeration about any of this. Maybe just a little acknowledgment for the wisdom of the ages…. And the source of that wisdom.

I know things today and practice things today that even amaze me. I have watched people heal, and grow, and thrive and live lives of joy in awe of the wonders of nature and the Universe.   It isn’t because I learned something from science and technology (though I am pleased to say science is beginning to back up what we have known all along.)  We knew instinctively because it comes through our DNA.

I will never forget my favorite week with my mom, when we drove to Florida together to meet my son’s new family and my new grandson, and we talked about EVERYTHING. I learned so much from her that week, but she learned some fascinating things too. With all that time together, she was able to finally ask me to explain what I do. I explained the best I could, she shared some stories with me from her childhood that correlated with what I was telling her (uhmmmm no, there truly is nothing new under the sun), and finally told me, “You know, Patti—-It sounds like you do a lot of the same things your grandmother did”. My grandmother…..who passed before I was even born. She was a healer and a mystic.   In case you missed it, SHE PASSED BEFORE I WAS BORN. Nobody else was practicing it as I recall—at least not openly….so how did I get it? Please tell me the answer is obvious……

We learn wisdom from each other, no matter what side of life we’re on….and those of my generation, I address you: Don’t let anyone try and convince you that you’re wrong, or exaggerating, or crazy,  or full of shit. We lived it and with courage, continue to live it…just as those before us did. It works for us, and when it doesn’t we try something else–another great aspect of wisdom.

The way many of our offspring live–with all of the science and medicine and electronic gadgetry at their disposal (and I am in no way criticizing that, but would like to point out that it is merely a 300 year old science as opposed to quantum medicine which is 1000’s of years old) .  It works for them.  Apparently.  Though it’s not very evident…. I’m not sorry for having learned from them and been exposed to technology. 

But for Heaven’s sake (and I mean that literally), recognize that there is something else—something more—something that has run through every generation and patiently awaits the millenial generation to ‘get it’. My firm belief however, is that this generation of parents is going to learn it from their children: the indigos, the crystals, and the rainbow children being born to them.

We simply ask them to bless us in the same way that we bless them– for the tools we were given and to see that we have something to offer them, and they really don’t know it all. 

We love you. Always remember that…..And just as our ancestors came to this country to create a better life for us, we desire the same for you. We’re in this thing together and have much to learn from each other, without attacking each other for our various non-sensical “rightness or wrongness”.

Hospitals are combining medical science and spirituality. How much longer do we wait for that to trickle down into our very own families?

To think…….all of this came to me while standing at my front door this morning waving good bye to my husband, and hearing my mother’s voice in my head whispering, “Patti, remember when? Now go write it down…”