Ten years ago, as I drove east in my VW bus from the Hopi mesas toward Canyon de Chelly, I felt a horrible grab of anxiety. I pulled onto a side road, got out of my bus, and walked to the top of a nearby knoll.

I was familiar with the painful, recurring dialogue inside me between the top-dog, "should" voice and a growing-in-power alternative ("want"? "heart path"?) voice. Here, in the Southwest desert, I let these combating energies fly, shouting, swinging my fists at the "should" in the air, seemingly alone. Then, I began to hear another voice coming out of me -- out of my mouth, but clearly not my voice. I gradually let my arms drop and eventually felt the embrace of a spirit guide whom we later settled on calling Emil.

Emil and I talked every day during that Southwest trip. When I returned to California, we continued our dialogue as often as I asked him to be with me.

For a long time I questioned, since I couldn't see him and his voice came out of my mouth, whether Emil was my innate wisdom, or a projection of my impression of wisdom. He assured me that he was neither, that he is the Universe's energy speaking through me to me. "Why me?" I asked. He answered, "The energy I express is available for everyone. It comes in different ways at different times for each person."

I asked a lot of questions, Emil answered each one, and eventually I ceased questioning. Today, I gratefully accept his counsel and his unqualified love. This love, particularly his acceptance of my follies (the most glaring, to me, being my neglecting to ask Emil's counsel all the time instead of inconsistently), has been Emil's greatest gift to me. His love has healed large parts of my pain, my blocked energy, and has helped me to align myself with Spirit's intentions for my life.

Twice Emil has appeared unbidden. The first time was when I drove to Mexico in agony at my divorce from my son Tyler's mom, Meg. I didn't have a plan; I just went. After I'd crossed the border, I got out of my car to walk through a field. Emil stopped me and summarily told me that I wasn't there to think about other women, or anything else back home. "Get up before each sunrise and walk for at least an hour, talking to Meg, saying whatever comes up. Do the same for an hour at noon and for an hour at sunset. The rest of your time, just be in Baja." I followed his advice. It was difficult, and it helped.

The second time he appeared unbidden was when my brain was about to be x-rayed for a possible tumor. I was terrified of having iodine pumped through me as I lay on my stomach on a moveable platform with my head propped up nearly vertical. I was about to abort the process, when Emil appeared before me. He didn't speak through my voice, as I couldn't move or the x-ray would blur, but I heard him, and I saw his energy, a gentle light on the floor in front of me.

"Let it happen," he said. "You'll not react to the iodine. It's going to be okay." Emil spoke reassuringly to me until I heard the x-ray technician tell me that the test was over.

Aside from these two times, Emil has appeared only when I've asked him. I once left a class I was teaching on angels to talk to him, returning to say Emil had told me that many butterflies are angels. And twice Emil has spoken through me to my sweetheart, Kate. Most of the time, though, I've known Emil's love and wisdom through private conversations I've initiated, often when I'm confused, or just to ask him to comment on how I'm doing (or not doing) my life.

I dedicate this article to Emil with deep appreciation and gratitude for his love.