A brief photo-essay of memorable times when my oldest daughter Morgan Hannah blossomed from pre-teen into full adolescence as she navigates to womanhood. She was 14 years old and a 9th Grader at Roosevelt High School in Seattle, Washington, when these photos were taken. They were shot by a classmate in black & white for a photography class Morgan and her friend participated in. In just two more days, Morgan turns 18 years old as she enters adulthood as a young woman. I am thrilled and feel deeply blessed. Here is a snapshot in time altered for fun as we explore life from sometimes unusual angles.
Angles. Angels. I am reminded of two early events which illuminated Morgan’s unique gifts of perception. Back then we lived at Orca Landing Cooperative, an urban intentional community. I would meditate for an hour and end with prayer. I wasn’t used to being interrupted by small children, so I would go sit in the large bathroom under a sunroof window. Morgan, at about age 4, I think, wandered in and sat down in my lap.
After a moment’s irritation, I surrendered and viewed the interruption as a timely gift. I folded her into my arms and sat there cross-legged with her in my lap. She chirped away with random curiosity as I breathed in and breathed out. After a few minutes, I surrendered again, and to my surprise went even deeper in my meditation with this warm, wiggly, chatty, and most precious child snuggled close to me.
After a moment, a burst of sunshine beamed down through the glass bubble window in the ceiling above. The sunbeam bathed us in warm light. I had an image from the old Star Trek television series of people beaming back and forth between the starship and alien worlds below in sparkling transporter beams. My daughter turned her face up into the sunshine and stared back into the skies.
“Morgan,” I asked with sudden insight. “What do you see?”
“I see angels, Daddy, I see angels,” Morgan replied in a calm, matter of fact manner as if she saw angels all the time.
And maybe she did. Morgan had many of what we would call “imaginary childhood friends.” Some people wondered if Morgan was an Indigo Child. And others within esoteric spiritual traditions reminded me once upon a time humans saw spiritual entities everywhere and of all kinds just as we go outside and see animal and plant entities of all kinds. As civilization evolved both East and West matter including humanity became more dense and people lost the ability to see, hear, and otherwise sense the lighter dimensions of Spirit and spirits interacting all around us.
We can call these realms the Afterlife or Faerieland or Heaven and Hell or whatever, but we’ve lost our capacity to interact and engage with this Spirit World. And as we may well be watched by guardian angels and spirit guides, who knows? Just because today’s scientific instruments are not yet precise enough to penetrate into and measure non-material entities and energies, it doesn’t mean we dismiss the collective wisdom of humanity from bygone eras as “superstition.”
Later that same year we had a End of Summer party at our home. Adults were scattered around the community house in clusters talking and laughing as children ran amok. As I stood in the doorway frame chatting with two others, Morgan walked into the kitchen with her mother’s stethoscope dangling around her neck. She was excitedly testing it out on as many people as would let her listen to their heart beats. Someone, I can’t remember who, squatted down so Morgan can apply the stethoscope to hear the heartbeat. Her face lit up.
“Morgan,” I asked. “What do you hear?”
“I hear flowers!” she replied with a certain awe.
“I hear flowers!” That left the rest of us stumped, and it inspired a deep and wide-ranging conversation from spirituality to esoteric lore to synesthesia. We all knew then Morgan was endowed with her own special gifts.
NOTE: An earlier version of this article first appeared on New Year’s Day, January 1, 2009 on my old blog, Cultivate and Harvest, at http://cultivateandharvest.blogspot.com/2009/01/morgan-bass-dives-into-life.html. Eventually I revised it, played around with iPhoto on my iMac, and republished it here upon the eve of Morgan’s 18th Birthday. Thank you.
William Dudley Bass
Copyright © 2008, 2009, 2012, 2016 by William Dudley Bass. All Rights Reserved until we Humans establish Wise Stewardship of and for our Earth and Solarian Commons. Thank you.