With three traveling companions, I once visited a small island off the British coast. We had a single goal we four, one that coaxed us across the Great Waters to London, up through Scotland, and finally, across a small inlet to the Isle of Man. We wanted to spend Midsummer’s at an ancient stone circle and see our future.
Tradition held that the Shining Ones would walk the land on summer’s eve. If you could part the mist between heaven and earth, these angels of the faerie realm might pause and grant you a glimpse of your future. Legend also suggests that the gateway opens only at midnight. We were prepared to remain awake to dawn, if necessary, to divine our destinies.
In succumbing to the temptation of prophecy, I mirror the main interest of most of my clients. As an intuitive consultant and healer, the most common question asked of me is, “What lies in my future?” As can we all, I am frequently able to perceive portends of what is to come; what might be; and what should be. The greatest challenge does not lie in opening to a sign, however; it’s in interpreting what we receive.
Understanding Future Revelations
There are two keys to intelligently working with future revelations. The first is to distinguish between a future-forward flash and a frolicking fantasy. The second is to discern between the three main types of foreshadows, which are probabilities, certainties, and potentials. What are the differences? Here is what I think.
We’ve all indulged our imagination, which in turn, loves to indulge our fancies or fears. Unlike a daydream or a nightmare, a genuine revelation, one that reveals higher wisdom or guidance, cannot be changed. No matter how stubborn our insistence to redesign, rewrite, or rewire the vision, sense, feeling, knowing, or communication, it won’t budge. Let me show you, using an example that relays a probable futuring, one that will most likely, but not necessarily, occur.
Years ago, a young woman asked about her upcoming marriage. I psychically perceived a wedding band floating across my mind’s screen. I was pleased to spy a young man slip the gold band on my client’s finger. Then it fell off.
Oh-oh, I thought, not sure I wanted to relate the image. Would the marriage break up before it occurred? Would he or she die? Might she marry and then find that one or the other outgrows the marriage? Only human, I attempted to alter the picture. Maybe sheer will could get that ring to remain on her finger. No matter my psychic attempts, the ring slid off, and that was that.
Maybe I could flip to another image?
Unable to transform or eliminate the vision, I explained what I was seeing and my sense of the foretelling, suggesting that something might occur with the ring during the ceremony. I advised that my client double-check the ring beforehand; otherwise, we’d have to let time explain the vision to us, rather than the other way around.
She forgot to follow up and walked down the aisle, ready for her dream day.
At the altar, my client’s husband-to-be slid a ring on her finger — and it fell off. Apparently he had forgotten to size it. The problem was that it fell in a water fountain and in fishing it out, he tipped over the entire basin, thereby splashing half the wedding crew. Thus was the prediction fulfilled.
The original pictures were not alterable, thereby qualifying a true revelation, but because the prophecy could have been altered, the vision constituted a “probable-only” forecast. At the least, my client could have avoided a few unnecessary dry cleaning bills (no joke intended). Some futures, however, are more unalterable. These I call certainties or destiny points.
Destiny points are soul agreements that manifest no matter what we do. I once worked with a client who had four children and was married to an incredible man, who ran his own business. The only message I received was that she must buy life insurance for him.
Four years later, she informed me that her husband had recently died of Lou Gehrig’s disease. If she hadn’t purchased the life insurance, she would not be able to take care of her children.
Might a better intuitive have been able to forewarn her of the illness and create a miracle to abort this man’s death? I don’t know. I do believe, however, that certain events are simply decreed and “are.”
The third category of foreshadowing constitutes possible futures, which can often be altered. Continuing with our relationship theme, my example centers on a young East Indian woman who was contracted for an arranged marriage. She had to fly to the Orient for the ceremony, although she had already met the young man and didn’t want to marry him.
I didn’t see good things for the marriage, and certainly not for her on the path ahead.
After pondering my intuitive input and a few common sense suggestions, the young woman simply said, “If God doesn’t want me to marry the man, he has to stop the wedding.” I replied, “If you don’t want to marry the man, God will support you in stopping the wedding.” Her response? The ceremony took place.
This beautiful young woman was cementing her future by imprisoning herself in the traditions of the past. This is the greatest danger involved in foreseeing. It’s easy to project our fears, beliefs, and conjectures into the future and walk right into them.
When playing with — or praying for revelations about — the future, it’s important to know that we aren’t supposed to know everything. We are ultimately here to experience our lives. Yes, there are certain steppingstones already in place, but also a great number of paths that meander various directions. It’s not always easy to tell the difference, but isn’t that all part of the adventure?
It helps me to remind myself that fate is what we are handed, but destiny is what we do with it. True wisdom lies in accepting what’s been; selecting loving actions in the present; and negotiating for the best foreseeable future.
We then don’t need the Shining Ones, although a good quest is always worth indulging.
As for my island odyssey, it ended up more of a fiasco, starting with the fact that I was completely unprepared for this place of peat, the low-slung clouds, and worse than anything, the horrendous chill. Worse, my first turn of the faucet in the Bed and Breakfast bathroom yield no hot water.
“Deborah,” I said to one of my friends, the only other one who preferred high heels to Birkenstocks and take-out dining to organic home cooking, “Would you be willing to take the next flight out and go shopping in Edinburgh, if we can’t get a hot shower?”
“Of course!” she replied.
As luck would have it, the plumbing system for the shower was separate from that in the sink. We four remained, desiring of our dreams. That Midsummer’s Eve, however? The one spent skulking at the stones? There were so many pot-smoking hippies and pelting raindrops, I went to bed before midnight, sleeping a dreamless sleep.
We might seek, but we don’t always see. We might see, but not always understand. Still, in the questioning lies the quest, and that’s always worth a gambit.