The song My Guy (a single release March 13, 1964, written by Smokey Robinson, and sung by Mary Wells) popped into my head for the umpteenth time, and I belted out the tune in the privacy of my home. I sang my own version of the song, substituting “my guy” with “my guides.” I’d been singing it that way for years.
Nothing you could say can tear me away from my guides
Nothing you could do, ’cause I’m stuck like glue to my guides
I’m sticking to my guides like a stamp to a letter
Like birds of a feather, we stick together
I’m tellin’ you from the start, I can’t be torn apart from my guides
Nothing you could do could make me untrue to my guides
Nothing you could buy could make me tell a lie to my guides
I gave my guides my word of honor to be faithful, and I’m gonna
You’d best be believing I won’t be deceiving my guides
As a matter of opinion, I think they’re tops
My opinion is, they’re the cream of the crop
As a matter of taste, to be exact
They’re ideal, as a matter of fact
No muscle-bound man could take my hand from my guides
No handsome face could ever take the place of my guides
They may not be movie stars, but when it comes to bein’ happy, we are
There’s no one today who could take me away from my guides
That night, as I lay in bed praying and wondering if my guides were really there and listening to me, I yawned and sleepily asked Archangel Michael if he could take me on an adventure to meet one or more of my guides in my dreams. I gently drifted off to sleep and soon found myself in this huge house that was brimming full of people that I knew from this life (living and “dead”) and others who I somehow knew were from other lifetimes. All of the pets (living and “dead”) that I had in this lifetime were there as well: kitties, doggies, my pet turkey, my mouse named George, and so many others. I held my daughter’s kitty, Cury, who recently passed away, in my arms, and my daughter said, “He’s one of your guides, too!” In that moment I realized that everyone who was there was a guide of mine. And, there was a man with a beard and twinkling eyes—Dr. Peebles—sitting amidst the throngs of people, animals and others, and he smiled and winked at me.
I awakened, and realized that every person, animal, insect, ray of sun, drop of water, breath of air…they were my guides. It wasn’t about a single guide, but it was about the entirety of the movement—the dance of life, of the universe, the “good” and the “bad” experiences—that has guided me all along.
I drifted back to sleep feeling so blessed and deeply connected to the universe. As the illusions of separation fell away, I finally realized the truth of the song I’d been singing for so many years.
I’m “stuck like glue” to my guides.
