Hitching a Ride: An Angel Message

Coming out of the bank, my attention was drawn to a strange sight on our car in the parking lot.  A tiny light green inchworm was suspended on a fine invisible thread that dangled from the rear wheel panel.  How had he survived? I wondered. Maybe he'd caught a ride down the street when we stopped for cracked corn at the feed store. 

This tiny little hitchhiker was creating in the wrong place with big plans to move in miles not inches down the road.  Concerned for his safety, I picked him up.  I could feel his wiggles tickle my cupped hand as I swiftly escorted him to safety in the shade of a palm tree by the bank parking lot.  Soon the wayward inchworm was back on track.  Grounded in familiar terrain, he soon got his bearings, and began to inch forward, bit by bit. 

His peculiar behavior was one of those angel messages from nature. Back at home, I learned more about the inchworm.  A symbol of patience, persistence, and adaptability.  A reminder that as we move through life's challenges, with grace and tenacity, to keep inching toward our goal no matter how challenging the circumstances may be.  

When an inchworm appears, it's a message to stay grounded and connected to our environment.  To slow down, and pay attention to the small details in our life.  Take in all the goodness and beauty available in every moment.  

Remember you are never alone.  What angel messages are coming to you today?  The more we attune to the angelic realm, the louder the volume, and we begin to live and move in a world of wonder as we slowly move about in the most ordinary ways.

Love and peace,

 

Rae Karen

(inchworm picture -web)

Measure Twice, Cut Once: An Angel Message

  "How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways."

          --Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Swinging on an invisible thread, a tiny green inchworm caught my eye yesterday while watering the shrubs at the side of the house. I happened to look up, and the angle of the sun's rays illumined his stellar performance.  Watching him joyfully ride the breeze, measuring the upward climb, inch by inch.

  A childhood tune wafted in the air that seemed to come out of nowhere. 

 Inchworm, Inchworm, measuring the marigolds. You and your arithmetic, you'll probably go far.  Inchworm, Inchworm seems to me, you'd stop and see how beautiful they are. 

As I sang to him, he raised his green head, and wiggled up higher on sun-lit thread. I didn't take it personally.  I'm not a great singer but it came from my heart.  

It had been a long time since I'd last seen an inchworm. I was thankful for the gentle reminder to think more with my heart, and less with my head.

But, there was more.

 Later, in the morning, something wiggled on the knee of my peach clam diggers on the ride home from the market. Curled up in a tiny green ball, I wasn't sure what it was at first.  I'd thrashed around a bit in surprise of another visitor.  I hoped the inchworm was okay, and said a little prayer.  Slowly, he lifted his head ever so slightly. He was alive!  At home, I gently placed the little messenger in the shade of the oak to rest on a leaf.

Inchworms... 2  times in 1 day, seemed like an angel prescription.  Again, think more with heart, less with logic.  

Curious, I looked up the symbolism on-line:

Inchworm:  "Something in your life is not adding up.  Take the time to figure out what needs to be re-measured."

Measure twice, cut once.

Go figure. This morning, from the sun-room,  I happened to catch sight of an inchworm dangling by a thread.   The answer to a search for a blog photo. 

 

 Although last night, an on-line search had turned up a perfect photo. A tiny green inchworm, back hunched, measuring my favorite flower, a purple iris.  A sign from God that I'm on the right path.  And, iris, at one time was the word for a rainbow. 

 Remember you are never alone.   Your guardian angel is with you.  You are loved beyond measure.

Love and peace,

Rae Karen

 

 

  

The Inchworm Song: An Angel Message

Sometimes an angel message may come as a song.  That's what happened earlier this month.  A long forgotten childhood melody played in my mind while sitting on the sofa looking out at the woods.   A sweet refrain, I wanted to know the title.  After humming a few bars, the words, "Inchworm... inchworm..." were a helpful clue.  The mystery song was then easily found on youtube.   

The Inchworm Song, was sung by Danny Kaye in the 1952 movie, Hans Christian Anderson.  Funny, I don't recall the movie, but the song's angel message was a timely one.  The little inchworm is so involved in measuring the marigolds that it completely misses out on the beauty of each individual flower.   

The song brought a sheepish grin because lately I've become more analytical at times, making comparisons, and falling short in counting my blessings right here and now, day by day, and there are many. 

Then a short time later, the lesson came again in a playful way to make sure I got it.   

On a morning walk to the mailbox,  suddenly before my eyes, a tiny little green creature dropped down from the blue sky on a fine silk thread.  I laughed at the synchronicity.  The tiny inchworm hunched its back, and then stretched out again, expanding its trajectory while swinging on a soft breeze.  Curious, I looked up at the sky.  It didn't appear to be anchored to anything material above it.   No trees...power lines...

Inch by inch, the tiny inchworm dropped down, enjoying the ride, while fully supported by an invisible force from above.   Not wanting to disturb its important mission, I held the camera LCD screen up close as proof it had actually happened.  I wanted to capture the moment as the little creature swung like a pendulum back and forth before me.   

When the photos were uploaded, the little inchworm appeared to be larger, and farther away than it  originally was--close enough for me to touch it.  

But here I go again--measuring like the inchworm in the song, instead of appreciating the wonder and timing of that comforting, loving, and inspiring angel moment.  

 Enjoy the Inchworm Song

Love and blessings,

Rae Karen