The Stories I Tell: The Truth is “Out There”

I like to make other people feel comfortable around me. This means that I’ll often say silly or goofy things to show I’m no threat to them at all. I smile a lot when I talk. This is a mask I nearly always wear. One of my coworkers once noted that I am quite a bit like the donkey in Shrek as I was always the first person to leap up from my desk to help any visitor to the office. Haha!

I truly love people and believe in the old adage, “A stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet.” This, of course, is not very popular anymore and is considered downright dangerous! All the masks, mandates, finger pointing, and accusations have not been good for someone like me, whose smile has been hidden for two years now.

Anyway, I can usually sense when someone is nervous or alarmed by something I’m saying so I’ll often censor myself – especially around people I don’t know well.

That’s why I don’t broadcast my spirituality a lot. It is something that can really freak other people out.

The Giant Mainframe in the Sky

My belief is a mishmash of spiritual things I’ve learned or heard that seem to make sense to me. I have no interest in formal training or attending any church or ashram and have never gotten all the way through the bible. Sorry, I know it’s important, it’s just tough to get through. Plus, twice born-again Christians have told me that I’m going to hell for my beliefs so that kind of puts me off it. No offense taken, however!

Basically, I think God is like a giant mainframe computer and we are all essential apps. Absolutely essential.  We all agreed to be here right now – ug, right?! Each of us has a function and a purpose. So let’s get with it, already!

It’s None of My Nevermind

As you can tell, I am somewhat irreverent in my beliefs and don’t think anyone will be punished or cast out for not believing what I believe. In fact, it’s none of my business what you believe or don’t believe. Just don’t attack me, is all I ask! In my world, everyone is needed and loved. Even the mean assholes.

Most of the guys my age seem to be confirmed atheists. We’ve had some pretty intense conversations – some very funny in an argumentative, Woody Allen-type way. I have often noted that atheists seem to have an awful lot of books on their nightstands devoted to atheism so they can read about it every night before bed. Probably about the same number of books on religion that religious people have on their nightstands. (On my nightstand? “Love in the Time of Cholera” – Gabriel Garcia Marquez, which I’m afraid to start, in case it ends badly, and “What Should I Do With My Life” – Po Bronson, which is full of stories that I’m really enjoying.)

I am glad I believe in something “out there” because it sure makes the last eight years easier to bear. Maybe I just want some explanation for things that happen, as my atheist Dad says! I don’t know but weird things have happened in my life that I cannot explain. These things have shown me, beyond any doubt, that there really IS something greater than our physical selves. I’ll tell you a couple stories to give you an example of what I mean.

My Own Personal Jesus

When I was pregnant for the second time, I was sure I was going to lose the baby. I can be obsessive when I’m under stress and I kept worrying and worrying – there was almost nothing else I could think about. I was in a very emotionally unhealthy loop of fear and guilt. The “why” of that is a long story that I am just not ready to tell yet.

I will say that it had been over five years since I’d had my son and now I was sure I would lose my unborn baby. To say I was miserable was an understatement. I didn’t tell anyone of my sad mental state and felt it was my cross to bear.

Are You Smirking at Me?

One day, when I was about three months pregnant, I was lying down for a nap and went into that sleepy sort of state where you’re not fully asleep but not awake, either.

Into my mind, a scene came up. I saw a forest and a guy sitting on a log with one leg crossed over the other. He was smiling at me with one of those mocking grins – a smirk! That’s what it was. He was smirking at me for sure. He had pale, straight hair, not too long, and altogether a sort of nature-guy, hiking type look to him. Except he was wearing tan corduroy pants. No one hikes in corduroy, I’m pretty sure.

We had a conversation. Although I didn’t say anything, he answered the thought in my head, which was, “I’m worried I’m going to lose my baby.”

He said, “No. She is a determined Aries and she’s been waiting a long time to be born. She’s not going anywhere.”

Immediately I thought, “What?! I am supposed to be having a Pisces, my brother will be disappointed.” (He is a middle child and the only one in the family that doesn’t have a parent share his astrological sign.)

And then, “Wait – it’s a girl?!”

At this point, I was wide awake and the scene was gone.

What a Relief!

The odd thing was, from that moment on I didn’t worry about my daughter for a second. I also knew to plan for a girl! Some people in my family tried to caution me not to rely so much on a vision but I “knew” I was carrying a girl.

The whole vision was a great relief to me, although now I question my sanity over it. Maybe my mind concocted the story just to keep me quiet! Who knows?

But I’ve often wondered – who was that guy on the log? Was that my interpretation of Jesus? I didn’t have a religious upbringing so rely on what is shown of Jesus in popular culture. This guy certainly didn’t have long hair, wear a robe, or have a beard – or even a moustache! Then again, if Jesus was in our world today and out hiking, would he choose those corduroy pants?

He had something in his hands, too, that I couldn’t quite see. Almost like a ball he was playing with. His whole manner was casual and offhand. There wasn’t any authority as he spoke to me but I felt the truth of his words.

Perhaps he is one of my “guides” or my “higher” self. All I know is, he’s one lucky guy to be able to get away with wearing corduroy pants! Sadly, with my butt, they’ve always been off limits!

Sometimes I Can Be So Blind

Several months later, when I was very pregnant, my Mom came over and insisted that I read a book she had enjoyed about “angels” and other psychic phenomena. This wasn’t the first time Mom had given me a book like this – she has been reading Edgar Cayce and Ruth Montgomery for as long as I can remember. At that point, though, I was kind of pissed off and impatient with her “spiritual” side.

I needed practical, hands-on help, not a bunch of “woo-woo” pie in the sky stuff about guiding angels and past lives, as much as I might believe in some of it! Why couldn’t my Mom have come over with a hot meal to save me having to cook that night or taken her rambunctious grandson for a walk to the park instead of handing me this badly written book and insisting I read it?

I was ungracious as I took the book and probably rolled my eyes.

Not Another Sales Pitch

I did, however, read the damned thing. The title is lost to me now but basically, the author went on and on about signs from angels and said the number 444 was particularly significant and a sign from your own angels. I finished it and sure enough! At the back of the book was a several page sales pitch for angelic artifacts and other nonsense. Bah! I knew it! Garbage!

It’s not that I was a sceptic – far from it – but I have a heightened awareness of the sales pitch. To me it’s obvious that if someone is selling something, they will tell you what you need to hear to soften you up for the purchase they will be suggesting shortly.

So this book was one long sales pitch with a very thin premise that angels were with you and using 444 as a way to let you know they were there. I finished the book and didn’t think much about it.

A Case of Some Curiousity

About a week later I got up in the middle of the night to use the washroom, as a pregnant woman very often has to do in the late stages. I waddled back to bed and was trying to get back to sleep when a thought occurred to me. “Wouldn’t it be funny if it was 4:44 right now?” I chuckled because I can’t see two feet in front of my face without my glasses on and the alarm clock was across the room on a small table, way beyond my eyesight’s capabilities. “It would be completely wasted on me!” I thought and I drifted off.

A few minutes later – or maybe more, I really can’t say for sure – I woke up and became quite curious. How close was it to 4:44 when I had gotten up to use the washroom earlier? I stayed in my warm bed for a while longer, mulling it over. My glasses were in the washroom so I wondered, should I make the effort to get up and see? I wasn’t moving very easily at that point and it was quite an effort to get out of bed. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer – I just had to know.

I got up, deciding to get close enough to the clock so that I could see it. I crept quietly over to the other side of the room and lowered my face down to the clock. It read:


Well, holy shit.

Out loud I said, “Ha.Ha. Very funny you guys.”

I could almost hear them laughing at me.

The book may have been a joke but there is definitely something to the whole “angel” or “higher” being or self at work. Between when I got up to use the washroom, waddled back to bed, fell asleep again and then awoke, battled with myself to get up or not, 15 or 20 minutes had gone by – maybe more.

Yet I got up and faced that clock at the exact time of 4:44.

Cue Twilight Zone music…

And my daughter?  She was born on the very first day of Aries after a very quick labour. Determined? Oh, yeah. 25 years later, that is still a great way to describe her.


No comments yet. Why don’t you start the discussion?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *