By Vicky Cavanagh-Hodge
Except for the long awaited appearance of the sun, it feels like May. Or maybe September at the most. I keep opening my diary and using my finger to count the days between now and Christmas in the hope it will compute……but alas my efforts are in vain! That cognitive pathway is gone. I am trying to walk down a road that has been re-routed. The old way simply doesn’t exist anymore.
Like many, my work in the etheric fields sometimes renders me less than what we term functional on the physical plane. In simple terms there are times when I can’t speak, think or even move and I feel over-whelmed by the simplest of things that on a “normal” day wouldn’t even ruffle my feathers.
Except for the long awaited appearance of the sun, it feels like May. Or maybe September at the most. I keep opening my diary and using my finger to count the days between now and Christmas in the hope it will compute……but alas my efforts are in vain! That cognitive pathway is gone. I am trying to walk down a road that has been re-routed. The old way simply doesn’t exist anymore.
Like many, my work in the etheric fields sometimes renders me less than what we term functional on the physical plane. In simple terms there are times when I can’t speak, think or even move and I feel over-whelmed by the simplest of things that on a “normal” day wouldn’t even ruffle my feathers.
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