THE MESSENGERS

I recently had a conversation with a mystic friend about encounters with spirit guides. My friend shared how his guides would appear to him as regular humans, average folks, people that you might not notice; a guy working at Starbucks, or a homeless person sitting against a wall.  He would engage in fully conscious deep exchanges with these guides appearing in human form.   

A similar event took place back in 1992; an encounter that, at the time, I found particularly unnerving.  

I was in a transition space deciding what direction to take in life.  I would graduate from college soon, and ending a period in my life that consisted mostly of schoolwork, temporary jobs in corporate America, and a few late-night raves in the City of Angels. By the summer of 1993, I would flip a coin to determine which location to begin a career: Colorado or San Francisco.   

Before the coin toss, there was an event that reoriented my attention to spirit. I was living in Long Beach then, on a boat docked at Shoreline Marina. Here I lived simply in a “one fork, one spoon, one knife” lifestyle that afforded me time for contemplation. On this particular day, I set off, as I often do, to the local grocery store before nightfall. Once my grocery bags were secured, I doubled back for the marina. 

Just as day transitions to night, downtown Long Beach changes from a mainly white business crowd bustling into office buildings and spilling into patio restaurants during the day to a more vibrant, mostly African American neighborhood at night.  Before the transition from a business center to a neighborhood, there is a brief lull, a quiet period. Then, the sky grows darker, street cats appear, and the homeless population rouses while the nightclubs light up for business. On this night, with the sun setting, and with my grocery bags growing heavier, I thought it best to spare a few blocks by boarding the Long Beach trolley.   

At the trolley stop, an elderly white couple joined me in cue; eager to engage me in a conversation. The well-dressed man had a three-piece wool suit, expertly tailored, and pressed to perfection. His crystalline clear blue eyes offered a limitless depth and radiated a sense of peace. The woman next to him wore a knee-length dress and carried a structured handbag with a top handle. They appeared out of place and overdressed for the warmth and humidity of Long Beach. I was wearing a light T-shirt, jeans for modesty, and canvas sneakers for practicality while feeling the steam rise.

The woman was overly interested in me, insisting on an exchange. She asked, ‘Are you waiting for the trolley?’ I quickly replied by stating the obvious. Preferring to remain silent and uncooperative, I turned away from her as though I was checking on the oncoming trolley.  As the trolley arrived, I cued behind this odd couple. As the elderly man took his first step onto the classic cable car, I quickly decided to avoid any further engagement by walking. But before I could take a step, the elderly woman quickly reached for her companion’s forearm to stop him from further boarding the trolley.  She said anxiously, “Althea isn’t getting on the bus.” Hearing my name spoken out loud, shook me.  Now in a heightened state of alertness, we locked eyes, and something I cannot quite explain happened between me and the elderly man at that moment. My shock met his peace.  He responded reassuringly, “Don’t worry, she will.” Tenderly patting the old woman’s hand, he broke our eye connection by turning to board the trolley. I quickly pivoted on my heels, walking briskly toward the supermarket to avoid this street altogether. As I hurried, my attention shifted to the world of spirit, what just happened to me?   

Wishing you all a Happy New Year and may the light of spirit fill your path in 2020 and beyond.  

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