Have you ever had one of those times in life when, no matter what you do, nothing seems to go right for you?
I’ve recently been going through 2 weeks of this. From small, minor things going wrong, to big important things going belly-up.
It all seemed to kick off with one event – a delayed flight.
I was traveling back to visit family in N Ireland. For me to get from home to N Ireland, it involves two short flights. So, you’re kind of at the mercy of on-time airlines.
Even though everything initially appeared to be trucking along just fine (I even texted my husband to tell him we were getting ready to board the first flight), at the very last minute, it was announced that the flight would be delayed by 30minutes, then an hour... By the time we took off, we had been delayed by 2.5 hours… the exact time I had between my connecting flights.
Now, granted, the airline I was connecting with is notorious for always being delayed so I chose not to panic. I wasn’t willing to roll over and accept defeat.
Thanks to very helpful cabin crew, I was able to move seats on the plane to be closer to the front. That enabled me to be the first person off the plane. And as soon as my feet stepped onto terra firma, I was off like the clappers.
First, I was met by huge queues at passport control. But they wouldn’t stop a determined Viv. I quickly explained my situation to a staff member and they told me to just keep jumping up the queue, asking fellow travellers to let me squeeze by.
Have you ever been in a rush at an airport, thinking you’re going to miss your flight? Have you ever experienced how fellow travellers react to you in such a situation?
For me, I felt humbled by the kindness and support that I received from complete strangers. Not one person refused to let me squeeze by. Not one person complained. Not one person muttered disdain under their breath. I truly did get to experience people at their kindest.
And so, I whipped through passport control in a matter of minutes. That, in turn, enabled me to take to my heels, again, and run to flight desk to see if the travel company of my second flight were doing what they do best – delaying the flight.
The news wasn’t great. It wasn’t terrible, it just wasn’t great. The lady behind the desk, very apologetic, told me that she thought the flight was on time and I had probably already missed it. However, as her phone wasn’t connecting and she couldn’t confirm it, she advised me to try to go through security anyway.
I couldn’t get through security. The time on my boarding pass was 30mins earlier than the current time, so the machines wouldn’t let me pass. I asked a staff member for help. He checked his phone for information and, very apologetically, advised that my flight had already taken off.
The next flight was in another 8 hours.
Eight hours is a long time to be stuck in an airport. However, it turned out to be, for the most part, a rather enjoyable 8 hours. I don’t know how or why, but I seemed to attract friendly and chatty people to me. It was like I had a beacon shining from my forehead saying, “come talk to me”.
During my time stuck in the airport (I felt a bit like Tom Hanks from Terminal), I met some of the most interesting people with the most interesting life stories. A couple who had taken early retirement to travel and have visited most countries in the world including ones that few would put on their bucket list, two sisters who were travel with their other sister’s ashes to spread them in her favourite location in Spain, a group of really friendly and excited young guys heading on a weekend trip to Amsterdam, and a young chef who happily shared cooking tips with me.
It all certainly helped me better enjoy being stuck in the terminal. And, even though I eventually arrived at my parents’ house around 1am, some 10 hours later than expected, I felt upbeat thanks to my many and varied interactions with strangers.
However, the next day I didn’t quite feel the same way when more things started to go wrong. A simple update for a monthly repeat payment with a renewed bank card became impossible, and spending two days trying to fix the issue was futile. Traveling across the border into Ireland (still a member of the EU) to post an important parcel, a parcel that I have or have had posted on a few occasions, was flatly rejected by Post Office staff, with no room for negotiation, advice or help.
A weekend that should have been relaxing and enjoyable, spending time with my parents, suddenly became stressful and frustrating.
However, in an attempt to stay upbeat and keep my vibe from plummeting to rock bottom, I made very attempt to try to understand the lessons that these mishaps were teaching me. In saying that, I came up flat. I couldn’t seem to find the lessons.
Before long, the weekend came to an end, and I started my journey back home. This time the flights were all on time – it should be smooth sailing (or should I say ‘smooth flying’). However, coming down the stairs of the first plane in the dark, I mistook the penultimate step for the ultimate step and I fell, spraining my ankle.
Again, however, human nature shone through as fellow passengers helped me up and offered their support to walk me through the airport. Even the staff in the overnight hotel I was booked into were more than helpful, supplying me with ice to reduce the swelling.
Unfortunately, though, the drama didn’t stop there.
A couple of days after arriving back home I was due in hospital for a day procedure – a colonoscopy. For 5 days before the procedure, I had to follow a restrictive diet. And then the day before the procedure I did a ‘clean out’ (for me, always the worst part of this procedure. Have you ever had one of those drinks? They make me gag and I can barely get them down)
Everything seemed to be going ‘fine’ (as fine as can be expected)… should I have known better?
I arrived at the hospital the following morning, gave my name to the receptionist and she looked at me blank. After a bit of to-ing and fro-ing with her colleagues, she advised me that my colonoscopy rather than being in October (it was Friday the 13th… surprise, surprise) was actually meant to have taken place the previous month. I admit, I’m blonde and can live up to that misconstrued reputation sometimes. However, never have I ever missed a hospital appointment before. I was gutted (and, of course, very apologetic).
It was on the Saturday, when things finally seemed to be calming down and falling back into place (that was before our beloved Bobo suddenly, out of the blue, fell ill…) I was asking my higher self, “why?” Deep down I just knew there was something I was meant to learn, something I was meant to discover through all these negative experiences.
Nothing, however, came to me.
It wasn’t until late Saturday afternoon as I was relaxing (before Bobo fell ill) that the idea came to me. It’s something I am aware of, something I have experienced before in the distant past, but nothing that had crossed my mind until it randomly popped into my thoughts.
Suddenly I received the word, ‘attachment’. Without going into too much detail, I just knew (and felt) that a negative entity/energy had attached itself to my energy – a bit like a leech clinging onto your skin and sucking the goodness out of you.
As soon as I had the thought, I felt that everything made sense. And, thankfully, I have a good friend who can help with such experiences.
I know it’s something a lot of non-woo-woo people would poo-poo and laugh at (that’s why I’m telling you about it and not them). And if I didn’t trust my intuition as much as I do, it’s something I would probably write-off as being a bit too far-out-there. However, through practice and tuning into my intuition, I have learned to trust it. And that means that when I get an intuitive hit or thought which is a little more strange than normal, I will pay heed.
You might be wondering, though, that if I’m so connected with my intuition, why did I not discover the cause of these mishaps much earlier?
Here’s the other thing. Sometimes, with practice, we can connect in with our intuition and receive the answers we need to continue to move forward in life, when we need to receive those answers. However, sometimes our little intuitive voice is too quiet and can’t get past all the drama and noise that may be happening in life.
However, your intuition doesn’t give up easily. At some point, when you least expect it, when you’re most relaxed, and your mind isn’t being so chatty and loud, that little, quiet intuitive voice gets to speak up and be heard.
The trick is to have enough trust in your intuition to listen to it and heed it.
I mean, seriously, if you’d gone through something similar to what I’ve been going through and you received the hit that you had an attachment, would you honestly believe it or would you write it off as something too crazy and too weird?
It’s all well and good learning to listen to your intuition. The cruncher is trusting it and heeding it.
And so, because I think it so important to build trust in your intuition, I have chosen to ask the angels and our guides a question on that very thing.