How to Talk With Your Angels

The Angels of Abundance™ Show You How to Hear Your Angels!

Footprints or Buttprints?
By Catherine Kasper

Summary: Take a peek at what Catherine Kasper does in private to hear the Angels of Abundance as she reveals it in this chapter from her How to Talk With Your Angel E-Course, and learn how you can do it too. It might just surprise you!

Here it is in its entirety!

My favorite refrigerator magnet has a quote from a guy named Bob Moawad. It catches my eye as I run back and forth across the kitchen each morning packing lunches, making breakfast, feeding cats, counting out vitamins and herbs, striving to be ready to leave the house before the clock strikes 6:45am.

"You can't make footprints in the sands of time
if you're sitting on your butt. And who
wants to make buttprints in the sands of time?"

"Who has time to sit?" I wonder as I rush, smugly figuring that I am busy making footprints instead of buttprints simply because I am up and moving.

The clock keeps ticking off the numbers. I check my e-mail, run downstairs to throw a load of wash into the machine, make sure I have my car keys and school keys, and scoot out the door. I am glad it did not snow or freeze deeply last night. Scraping ice takes time.

It is a typical morning, nothing out of the ordinary. We drive to the high school. I drop my daughter off and slowly make my way past the patrol cars, observing the 25mph speed limit, wishing I were already on the open road and on my way. The clock says I am late again. "No checking e-mail or starting laundry tomorrow," I chide myself.

With one hand on the wheel I fish in my bag with the other for the tape recorder. Driving time is the only time in the day that I am alone. I plug it into the cigarette lighter, clip on the microphone and begin to talk to the Angels. I cannot hear their response. I watch out for traffic and talk again. The tape whirs. Silence.

I try to settle down and focus. I turn off the recorder and concentrate on driving. By the time I am five miles away from home, I have resigned myself to the clock and slipped into the flow of traffic on the country highway. I actually notice the scenery. I am calmer but wondering why, if I am able to choose my own life as the sages and "know it all's" often remind me, I have chosen a life that's too full. In my thirst to experience it all, taste it all, and try it all, I have built a life in which I race to fit it all in.

"I want to be like you, hear the Angels and just write what they say," several people have told me. If they knew how fragmented my listening and writing time really is I wonder if they'd say that. Sometimes, I am amazed I am able to hear anything from heaven.

Nothing seems to be coming in today and I fear I have forgotten how to channel. Mentally, I flip through the pages of past articles I have written. "How do I do this?" I ask myself. It is then that I hear the wonderful laughter from the Angels. I feel the pressure above my right eye and once again, know they are present.

"Geez Louise, you guys," I say irreverently. I am frazzled today. Please talk to me. I've got an article deadline soon and I'd love to sit and write. I also want to play with writing the book, but I have way too much to do and now I have to go to WORK again." I am insulted at the idea and behaving as though it is their fault.

I feel the footprints I thought I was making dissolving as I complain about my schedule. I almost feel my feet sliding out from under me as I imagine landing on my butt, tripped up by feeling sorry for myself. I know I am being ridiculous, but I can't seem to stop. I crab at the Angels as they are the only ones around to crab at. They don't even try to get a word in edgewise.

Elaborate schemes of finding a wealthy husband whose finances would allow me to quit my job to stay home and write run through my head as though it is on automatic pilot. Is that really what I automatically think? I cancel the mental reaction and cancel the disgust I feel at the thought that I would find that type of arrangement convenient. I don't want to marry a wealthy man so I can quit my job. I love my job.

I begin another scheme. In this scenario the Angels dictate an entire book to me. I simply take notes, send it to the publisher who accepts it immediately, pose for photos, appear on Oprah and rake in the cash. With this scenario I wouldn't have to take any responsibility at all for scheduling time to write and actually using it to write. The Angels would do all the work.

The loving laughter I hear is very loud now. They gently remind me that I came into this world to be a creator along with them (a co-creator), not to be their secretary. I laugh too and these scenarios that are ridiculous for me but perhaps a perfect fit for someone else, melt away. "Will it be footprints or buttprints, Cath?" I ask myself. I ask the Angels too.

I am finally relaxed enough to hear clearly. My feet are firmly on the ground again. Our conversation flows into the recorder. It lasts for the remainder of the forty minute drive. It will be transcribed, saved on a disk and printed. I carry the hard copies of my sessions with the Angels along with me so I can reread them in spare moments and make notes to myself about turning them into articles.

Sooner or later, usually at 5am Saturday, there is time to simply sit and write. The week's writing falls a little further together. A few more steps are taken towards my goal. Footprints. I take baby steps each day and try not to become frustrated at what I perceive to be slow progress.

I decide to clear the buttprint activities from my life. I'll decline the fifty foot mural I've been asked to paint for free, the blaring radio that clogs my ability to hear Spirit, the perfectionism that does not allow me to delegate simple tasks that eat my time, the television and the rushing that steals my breath and peace of mind.

I resolve to continue to seize my life, to snatch it back from the activities and thoughts that would swallow it whole. My footprints are of shoes that assume the form of clown shoes, dancing shoes or sensible teacher's shoes, depending on my focus. If I keep walking, choosing footprint activities, I'll fulfill my purpose. I'll avoid the stray banana peel and ice slick activities that only lead to pratfalls.

So, my New Year's resolution this year is to keep walking, keep my heart tuned into the authentic me, and my soul turned toward heaven in love for love is, love always is.…..and so it is. The Angels of Abundance™

"Now, You Can Learn How to Talk With Your Angel
and Really Hear Answers (even when you're feeling frazzled as I was!)
Without taking an expensive seminar or learning on your own!"

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Copyright 2008, Catherine M. Kasper