When the Veil is Thin


I have been awake since 2:15am… The witching hour, some call it. The veils are thin. Spirit is with us more easily than the rest of the day.

The essence and dreamlike vision of a First Nations woman woke me up. She seems young, maybe in her twenties. In my mind’s eye, I see her driving an old, rusty truck, slowly bouncing along a white, snowy road; the truck has little suspension left. It feels like she is in a remote area of northwestern Ontario in the middle of winter. It’s dark. The old headlights of the truck cast a yellowish light on the white packed snowy road. It’s cold out. She doesn’t want to be noticed.

When she was alive, in this world, she was trying to get to her Uncle’s, but never made it. She died before she got there.

“What is it you need?” I asked her.

She wants me to deliver something to a friend I worked with in the healing circle yesterday afternoon.

It’s a gift. A blanket, and a cloak. Ancient. From Northern Ontario. It was her grandmother’s blanket. Full of wisdom. It has the essence of the North Star within its threads. It will help my friend navigate her path.

I will deliver this energetic blanket. I promised the woman that I would deliver the messages and the blanket.

I promise.

Her essence left me as I shared my gratitude with and for her. She turned from form into dust and went straight up into the North Star. It felt like her transition home. She is at peace.

You can rest now, sweet one.

And so can I.



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