Stille Nacht....

A shout out to my cousin Steffie for being an integral part to the opening of my Spiritual Gateway :0). After my fun filled night of a keeping my eyes peeled for “the shadow people” my life, as I knew it, changed considerably.  The doors were now wide open for any “imaginary” friends to come through and just, well…. Hang out – at will, whenever they wanted. The first one showed up when I was playing Cowboys & Indians (as I said earlier, I was always the Brave who came to save the day)… So there I am, hidden in the bushes keeping a lookout for the Cowboys, and I hear a rustling sound behind me. I turn myself around to look for the intruder… nothing moves – all is quiet. I settle back down on my haunches and there it is again…. the rustling, right beside me now. I quick move my head to right and come face to face with a Native American youth dressed in all his finery. Buckskin top and pants, beautiful necklaces made of small white and coral colored shells and a majestic headdress made of white and brown feathers. His raven colored hair hung down in two braids over his chest, reaching almost to his waist. That was really what stood out the most to me – his beautiful long hair. I know right lol… go figure :0) but having very short hair myself (due to the frequent trips to Opas barber) I wanted nothing more at the moment than to reach out and touch it.  

     His name was Stille Nacht (that’s Quiet Night to you). He said that he had been watching me for a while but was waiting for the right moment to come out and meet me. I offered him to come sit down beside me and share in the bountiful feast I had stored in my brown paper bag. As I pulled out the Schinken sandwich, Stille Nacht moved closer – close enough for me to smell the odor of pine and tobacco. I handed him half of my sandwich but he declined saying that wasn't hungry. Always the gracious hostess (like my Oma taught me) I put the sandwiches back into the bag, and then leaned forward to look at him more closely. He had soft, olive colored skin – smooth as a baby’s bottom (NO I didn't touch it lol... I was just looking). His eyes were almond shaped, the pupils black as night. High cheekbones and a long, straight nose. He was beautiful.

     We sat there for the longest time in complete silence, just listening to the sounds around us. Occasionally he would smile at me and I would smile back. Nothing needed to be said. Thinking back at this now, one would think that I should have been curious as to where he came from, why he was dressed like that and why he looked so different than me. But I wasn't  He never said his name out loud to me; I just “knew” what it was… He was as real to me as You, reading this post right now.

     The sky had darkened and the streetlights came on.  I stood up, brushed myself off then asked Stille Nacht if he wanted to come home with me for supper. He looked up at me and said “I will sit here a while longer and keep a watch out, to make sure you get home safely”. Okay, that shouldn't have made any sense to me - but it did…

Shadow People ~ No, not the Bad kind :0)

I truly don’t recall the exact year these friends appeared. In fact let me just state this fact right now: I have no concept of “time” as in… when something happened – how old I am (need a calculator to figure it out exactly) – how old other people appear to me. Obviously I know what the Hours/Minutes are each day...duh.. since I have clocks to tell me that (whew). I also have no concept of North/South/East/West – it’s either “that” way or “this” way :0). I have always been like that and trust me, it’s frustrating at best. If you want me to remember your birthday, then you had better send me a reminder lol. Yes, I could write it down and have done so in the past, only to forget where I wrote it. One of my sisters gave me a little calendar one year as a present and in it she wrote down the birthdays of everyone in the family; however, ask me where that calendar is now? Uhh… Clueless :).

     So here is the scoop… I was spending the night at my cousin Steffies’ house and we always slept in the same bed. As was our habit, we would lay there in the dark – talk – giggle – you know, the basic kid stuff when you’re at a sleepover.  The only light in her room was coming in from the streetlights outside. So we could see a little bit but not much. Wow, just sharing this with you, the memory is still so vivid in my mind’s eye that it’s like I’m there – right now  - at this very moment….  Anyway, we were both laying on our backs when Steffie all of a sudden turns on her side and whispers in my ear “do you see the people coming out of the corners in the ceiling?”, I turn my head to look at each and every corner of the room very carefully and all I see is just, well the shadows created by the streetlights. I say to Steffie “no” and she responds “those are the shadow people”. That’s it, that’s all she said and then turns over on her other side and promptly falls asleep.

     Uhh... WHAT???... do you think that I was able to sleep after that statement? The answer is “Heck No” lol… I lay awake most of the night with the covers pulled up past my nose so that only my eyes and the top of my head were visible. Someone had to keep their eyes on the “shadow people”. That night I never saw “them” but I believe that what Steffie said somehow allowed me to open the doors to my Gift(s). I was so acutely in tune with the sights, sounds and my feelings of what was going on around me, that my consciousness was raised to another level entirely. Or so I believe anyway lol... had to start somewhere :0)

Mitakuye Oyasin....

I just want to take a brief moment and let You know how much I appreciate You reading my words. When I was asked (in a meditation) to start writing this Blog, I thought "What The Holler"... "Me, write a Blog?". I just didn't get it, but as I sit and put my words on this page it is becoming clearer to me each day as to the reason(s) why. Some stories along my Journey will resonate with those that need healing and understanding... and by sharing, I in turn, will receive much needed healing as well :0).  So Thank You - from deep within my Soul to yours - for being a part of my Journey and allowing me to be a part of Yours.

My Opa... or Seppel as everyone used to call him

You may be wondering why I haven’t said much about my Opa thus far. Well that’s because he was just always there, in the background lol. We never “heard” much from him unless he felt the need to share something or he was angry.  I have fleeting memories of going with him to the off-track Horse Betting Parlors. It was a place where all his cronies gathered on a regular basis to socialize, drink their warm beers, smoke their non-filter cigarettes and discuss the Horse News. Back in those days there was no television covering the races – No simulcast as we know it today :0)... Only a small radio, with the announcers’ voice giving you the gallop by gallop (so to speak).  With all of this going on around me, I would sit quietly – licking the Ice Cream Opa bought me – and just observe.

     I've always been pretty much and loner/observer… although the “observer” may now be considered a Mrs. Kravitz lol. Ok, I admit it freely – I am nosy, but I believe we should all be aware of what’s going on around us. Hmpf. :0).

     Opa rarely got angry, in fact I only saw him really mad once and that was at me (of course lol).  Yeah I can laugh about it now but back then... Oh boy was I in a lot of trouble. I believe I may have been 10 or 11 at the time and I had spent the night at my girlfriends’ house, Barbara.  They had an actual bathroom with a real tub :). Well we were playing and I didn't feel like going home so I stayed the night, which would have been alright had I told my Oma about it beforehand. But I didn't and since we didn't have a phone I couldn't call to tell her.  So when I got home the next morning my Opa was waiting for me at the front door of our apartment.

     The apartment was laid out like this: Walk thru the front door into a little foyer – on your right was the door to the kitchen, through which I had to go to get to my room. In front of you was the door to the living room, through which you had to go to get to my grandparents room. Well I stepped into the foyer about to explain what happened and my Opa, a man of few words, smacked me upside down my head so hard that I “flew” from the foyer into the kitchen, almost crashing into my bedroom door. WOW. I was in so much shock that I don’t recall what he said, if anything, and I didn't even cry. After that he just picked up his lunchbox and walked quietly out the door. That was the only time he ever hit me. Heck, who would want a repeat of that lol… Not me, that’s for sure :0).

     Nowadays that would be considered child abuse and I’m sure that some would argue and not agree with what my Opa did. That’s alright; we are all entitled to our own opinions. I may not condone his method but I’ll tell you this, it worked for me. Nuff said :0)
Next up... my Imaginary Friends ~