Who doesn’t want an angelic transition team?
Or maybe a squad of woodland squirrels to help you clean and offer squirrel-y life coaching.
I got angels for my birthday this year. No gift wrapping or angelic chorus from the heavens, but I did start seeing 7:11. A lot. Every time I looked at the clock it was somehow exactly 7:11. Since my birthday is July 11, I figured this was my own personal angel number. Like, my angels saying hi. Not a generic message from the universe, but a YO, HUMAN. HELLO. Just for me.
Which is a good gift, especially when there’s a lot going on. As there is for basically everyone on the planet.
I’m not even especially attached to angel numbers. Sure, I love a good 11:11 (WHO DOESN’T? I ASK YOU), but angel numbers have always been spiritual background noise as I rocket around my life trying not to forget things.
But 7:11 kept showing up and I enjoyed it and didn’t anything of it until my magical acupuncturist told me my birthday angels were in the room with us while I was on the table getting needles stuck in me.
She said it was a new set of angels, here to help me through this transition.
My first thought was “What transition?”
AND THEN I REMEMBERED THAT EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE IS IN TRANSITION. Kind of like most of the world.
My home is in flux, my work is in flux, my finances are a big fat question mark. My health has been rapidly improving since last year when I could barely get out of bed, but new layers and new identities show up every month or so. It’s a lot.
This month’s layer is “Hey, maybe my brain really doesn’t work like other people’s and maybe I should look into that so I know how to support it without beating myself up over not being able to do things the way other people do them.”
To be fair, I’ve gotten much better in recent years about not beating myself up, but I’ve been noticing the huge pile of shame that follows me everywhere I go, like PigPen with luggage and a few pets.
My brain definitely tends to work a lot of unpaid overtime.
It feels like a transition to stability within myself. Something that doesn’t rely on another person, or where I live, or what my finances are doing, or what my work looks like.
My foundation is strong, my stability is internally resourced, and that’s what this new crew of angels is here to help me with.
Which is great, because I just found out that my health insurance doesn’t offer therapy or psychiatric services.
SO ANGELS IT IS.
(Angels are free. You have some. You don’t even have to unpack your childhood for them because they already know, but not like in a creepy way.)