As I was waking up, Turtle was waiting for me. She was bigger than my hand but when I was going back over this in my mind, I heard the word, “small.” A gift from her to let me know her perception of herself, but I knew this was a game. She didn’t see herself that way. This was a “projection” to show me how others see her, and she was interpreting it for me as if she now sees herself that way too, but when I talked with her, I never got that impression. This was a “projection.” She keeps putting the word “projection” in quotes!
“I can draw myself in when I want to,” she said, neutrally but with a smile. “Some people think this means I’m ‘scared.’” Here she showed a child standing tall above her, pointing at her with mockery. “I don’t think that way,” she said. “I just know my limitations.”
I was shown what it looks like to her in her shell house, and what it looks like from her vantage point with the world so enormous and loud alllllll around her. It was a big world, bright and vibrant, and it could be overwhelming. “People think there’s something wrong with me, but we’re just a different species.” I was given an interpretation that this is what it’s like for introverts. They’re a different species, no “better” or “worse” than any other types, created perfectly this way yet often misunderstood. I’m directed that if I use the words “better” or “worse,” they need to be in quotes because there’s a wink attached. 😏
There was no more talking after this, just symbols and pictures. I was meant to observe and would be offered interpretations telepathically, as the turtle showed me talking made her tired at times.
I saw a child at a small lake pick up the turtle and get ready to throw it. The mom told the child to put it down, but the child was reluctant. He thought it would be fun, and I also felt a disconnect with him from any feelings the turtle had. He had no insight, compassion, or concern for this being. He had a mild curiosity as to what would happen if he threw the turtle, and then he would walk away, happy that he’d done what he wanted. The energy was of a young bully in the making, but not there yet and not super aggressive. Very unaware and uncaring. He left the picture and another person entered.
This was a person who talked a lot. I won’t give a gender because this type of person comes in both versions, and I’ve met some of them! The person came up next to the turtle and started talking. And talking. The talking went on so long that the turtle turned onto her back, shriveled up inside, and died. The person continued talking throughout the funeral, not looking, not pausing, just not paying any attention. Finally, they stopped, took a breath, and said to the turtle who was no longer alive, “So…what was yours like?” It was no use. The talking took a toll on the turtle, who wanted a quiet life.
It All Fits Together
From here, I was shown a room in a house with some sort of square foam tiles that fit together like a puzzle. If you have kids, you’re probably familiar with these, as they often have shapes or the alphabet on them for kids to learn. The tiles were in somewhat bright pastel colors (pink, light blue, mint green, yellow), and they were put together on the inside of this wall (at first I saw just a small piece of the wall). The image was deliberately given to me with some fuzziness to it, so I could see and sense things, but it wasn’t crystal clear. Each tile had an image on it, like an alphabet or animal or something else I couldn’t quite make out, and they seemed to be going in different directions. Many looked upside down and some looked sideways, but each piece fit together with the one next to it. As the view backed up, I could see the whole wall was fitted this way, and then the whole room. Pieces that wouldn’t seem to fit did, even though the shapes and colors on them were different.
As I looked at this, I was given the awareness that this is how people are, and that it’s not always “clear.” We’re all lined up, some with different colors, with patterns or from groups that don’t match, but when spread across the room, even though some faced different directions, they fit perfectly together. My mind was looking to find some pattern, some order to help make sense of the placement and structure, but this was the order…the order of Earth!
Finally, what I saw was a place where the door goes. I thought the door was gone, but I realized it was opened outwardly. It didn’t have the foam tiles on it but was painted white (the room looked like a child’s room. Please do not mistake this for some sort of race description. White is supposed to stand for Divinity here, not skin color). I saw that if we didn’t look, we’d think the room was incomplete. No door. But that wasn’t true. The door closed and completed the room. The door is God. It was always there but without looking a little, we might mistake it as gone, when it was just hanging on the outside for awhile. 😏
As a postscript to this encounter with Turtle, I was shown a big grizzly bear with the turtle’s shell on him. He was stuffed into it like you’d wear a costume that’s much too small. His body stuck out everywhere and then the tiny shell was on his back. He looked angry but I was to understand he was just like the turtle, wanting some peace and quiet and a place to retreat when needed, but the shell was designed for a different animal. Some kids came along, pointing and laughing at him. He felt embarrassed and distraught, and the shell got smaller and smaller on his back and then — poof! — vanished.
That was the end of today’s animal communication. 😀
I thanked them for communicating with me and they laughed with delight and said, “Thank you for listening!”
© 8/2/16 by Angel-Rose Coen.
© 2019 Angel-Rose Coen. All Rights Reserved.