Dame Maggie and The Shiny Penny

According to my cousin, Doug the chef, a  penny placed atop one’s payment at a restaurant means that you view the food, chef, and service as superb. I’d not thought of this in a long time, but Saturday morning I had a powerful and wonderful dream  . . .   but  before I share it, I should tell you that the moment the dream began I knew that it was the sequel to something that had come before. No, not another dream, just the simple awareness of a prior experience the first part of the dream was based upon.


Dame Maggie Smith as McGonagall in “Harry Potter and . . .”

Imagine a living room bathed in a warm, golden light. I am sitting on an oh-so-comfy sofa with pillows and soft throws around and over both me and – well – Dame Maggie Smith!  She reaches towards me with her left hand to give me a shiny penny held between her thumb and forefinger. I feel a big smile climb up and hijack my face  because I immediately realize that her giving me this shiny penny is her acknowledgment that she knows the meaning of the shiny penny I’d recently placed atop something in that living room, an action meant to say, “Dame Maggie, you’re the best at what you do! I think you’re just grand!” (My having given her the shiny penny before having the dream is what makes the dream a sequel).  I knew, too, that in giving me a penny, she was offering a similar acknowledgment. But for what?

Then she hands me the pen she’s been using to write whatever is on the pad of paper in her lap, which she also hands to me. I see that every cursive letter she’s made using that pen on that paper is a different color of the rainbow – colors even somewhere over and beyond the rainbow! These pigments, though, are not garishly bright and vivid, not like you’d see in cartoons or on the packaging for children’s toys .

Shrewsbury in Soft Light courtesy of Steve Morris

Shrewsbury in Soft Light courtesy of Steve Morris

No, both paper and letters are like the most magical of Autumn’s light, a light that on certain days and under certain atmospheric conditions gives everything a subtle, golden glow, sepia-tinged and lavender-edged, making you want to suspend time forever and just live there, in that entrancing moment.

Smiling at Dame Maggie, I hand the pen and paper back to her, and . . .

Oh, no! Ginger, my cat, begins meowing loudly and wakes me! The dream was over before it was over! Or, maybe not. She woke me right then so I’d remember the details of the dream. Feeling very energized by what I’d been given, as the day went on I realized the power and spiritual wonder of the message. You see, I recently signed a contract for a chapter I’d written to be included in a publishing company’s (I won’t name the company) upcoming May-release book about how to turn adversity into abundance. About a month ago, by email I received the editor’s revisions of my chapter. Expecting a few minor changes, I read the document to find that little of my story remained. The soul and voice had been stripped from the pages and the chapter sanitized to have no emotional impact, part of it even turned into fiction.

To say I was heartbroken would be an understatement. Irony of ironies (and spiritual lesson of all spiritual lessons), the editor’s inability to hear my Voice was precisely what the chapter was about: my father’s not being able to see Me.

Knowing I had to pick my battles, I began revising the editor’s Lysol version, keeping words and sentence structure that I’d not have chosen in an effort to mollify her and still retain the heart and soul of my redemptive personal journey. Over the course of the next week I worked hours and hours on the chapter, but before beginning I wrote the publisher to ask for a deadline: “As soon as you can; we’re a week late getting things to the copy editor.”

Finally finished with my chapter (and notes to the editor justifying what I’d done) I was just about ready to attach both to an email and hit “send” when a message from the publisher came in: “You’ve waited too long to send the chapter. Perhaps you can re-submit it for another book sometime.” BAM. The door slammed shut. (Who are these people????) I wrote immediately asking that they reconsider, pointing back to the information I’d been given when I’d asked for the deadline. But it was done; over; e finita. Heartbreak? You better know it. It took about a week for me to recover my spiritual perspective that what had happened MUST be in my best interest, as well as know that I’ll be publishing in other places and with other people who resonate to what I write.

I understand that Dame Maggie’s (my Higher Self’s) message is that my writing is filled with light, both subtle and bright – bright like a shiny penny. As a friend said today after I shared the dream, “The dream is the other side of the coin of what happened with the publisher who didn’t have the depth of vision to see what was in front of them with your work.”

Thank you, Higher Self, for your messages through the dream, and thank you a heap for the “cast” you chose to deliver them!

© Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.