When our loved ones visit us in our dreams.

The girl with the platinum blonde hair.

Your’e not going crazy. You are communicating!

Death…. An occupational hazard, but one I’m finding so many people want to talk with me about. Like we're a part of the "Death Club." They don’t feel so alone when I get excited as they share their personal experiences, the most amazing dreams, and signs and symbols in numbers and songs. They have no one to share them with for fear of looking and sounding weird or out there. That is until they meet me. I know of what they speak. I, too, thought I was going crazy.

Our loved ones present in our dreams, our writing, and in objects that seem to appear out of nowhere. These beautiful souls are trying so lovingly to connect with us in the only ways they now are capable of—to bring us a sense of peace, tranquility, and calm from just knowing they are okay. They are more than okay. They visit in our dreams to answer our questions that remain hidden in the crevices of our soul, screaming to be heard but silenced — silenced by us because of self-limiting beliefs and societal rejection and ridicule. So, our loved one's messages fall on deaf ears due to fear of what others might think of us and our crazy stories.

Tonight was no different. My massage therapist, I will call her Alex, shared with me that her best friend died last year. She had been trying to reach Belinda for a long time, but her friend was not returning her calls. After months of trying to no avail, she finally heard from her best friend's husband: "Belinda died in the hospital this morning."

One year after Belinda's death, just a few nights ago, Alex shared that she received a text message from Belinda's phone at 4:44 AM with pictures of a unicorn and a bunny. Alex sat straight up, and it was then that Belinda appeared to her. 

I interrupted Alex because a woman with long, platinum blonde hair with bangs popped into my vision—both unexpected and unannounced and obviously seeking attention. Hmmmmm, I thought to myself, I wonder where that came from? I had goosebumps all over, and so did Alex when I asked her if her friend had long, platinum blonde hair.

Alex answered, "No, she had long, jet-black hair." I apologized for interrupting and allowed her to continue her story. "Angie," Alex gasped, “my friend appeared to me in my dream with long, platinum blonde hair and told me: Look, Alex!” as she flipped her long locks over her shoulders, first right and then left, “I can do whatever I want with my hair. I can do anything!"

Wow, right? On so many levels. I've learned to share messages I receive—no matter how and when they present or how unclear or crazy they may seem. I learned many years ago that it's never about me, and timing is everything. That was validation—not only for me to continue to share the messages I receive from beyond, but for Alex too, that she was not going crazy.

We are not going crazy! We are communicating!

On another note, but in the same vein, several months ago, I was asked to present at A Course in Miracles on how it is absolutely possible for us to redefine how we navigate death and loss. Eva Fenari leads this beautiful group of seekers. I started the short lecture by asking the audience to close their eyes and raise their hands if they believe they are a spiritual being.  Every single person in that audience raised their hand.

What do you think happened when I asked the audience to open their eyes? You got it. They all looked around to see how everyone else responded. The majority quickly lowered their hands, afraid that they were the only ones who believed they were spiritual beings having a human experience. 

The late Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a French Idealist Philosopher, and Jesuit Priest, in his book The Joy of Kindness, stated:

"We are not human beings having a spiritual experience.

 We are spiritual beings having a human experience."

When we start to live this truth, our truth, we can share our stories and dreams without fear, shame, and embarrassment. About 90% of all individuals, both men, and women alike, right before sharing their experiences with me will look around, lower their voice, and preface their story with, "Shhhhhhhhh, Angie. Please don't tell anyone. I know I can tell you." Relief sweeps across their faces when they realize that I believe them—because I am one of them. And I have not met one person that doesn't have a story to share from beyond.

We are learning to recognize the new language of our loved ones as they communicate with us. In Alex’s case, it was in her dream. 

Like anything, something new, unknown, and unfamiliar takes time to adapt to. At first, it feels very uncomfortable. The more we do it, however, the more languages we learn from our loved ones from beyond. And it is here, in our dreams, that I believe we can begin to celebrate our loved ones instead of mourning them. Because really? If we believe that our loved ones are not gone and are still right here, and they are proving it to us every day, then there is no reason for us to continue to grieve. Right? 

Next time you dream of your loved one, see a sign, a number repeated, or find a coin present where there was none…. Remember. You are not going crazy. You are communicating! 

Congratulations!