They came to me one at a time — in dreams, in meditation, in moments when the veil between worlds felt paper-thin. A masked guardian. A waddling sage. A great white bird riding the thermals. And a very enthusiastic dinosaur who has my back like no one else.
Together, they form my spirit guide team, and I wouldn’t trade a single one of them. Here’s who they are and what they bring to my life.
Every spirit worker needs a Gatekeeper — the one who stands at the threshold between your world and theirs, deciding what gets in and what doesn’t. Mine arrived in full costume: black cape billowing, sword drawn, the golden Z gleaming on his hat like a calling card. Dramatic? Absolutely. Effective? Without question.
Zorro’s energy is bold, decisive, and fiercely protective. He doesn’t negotiate with anything that hasn’t earned passage, and he has a flair for the theatrical that I’ve come to love. When I feel his presence, I know the space is sealed, the work is sanctioned, and nothing uninvited will cross that line. He is confidence made manifest — the part of me that knows its own worth and isn't afraid to mark it.
His medicine: Stand in your power. Defend what matters. Leave your mark.
When Spirit sends you a platypus as a guide, you know you’re in for an interesting ride. Alfred is one of my animal spirit guides, and he embodies something I’ve come to treasure deeply: the magic of not fitting neatly into any category.
The platypus is famously paradoxical — a mammal who lays eggs, a creature with a duck bill and a beaver tail, one of the few venomous mammals alive. Scientists, upon first encountering a platypus specimen, thought it was a hoax stitched together from other animals. Alfred reminds me that the most extraordinary beings are often the ones that defy easy classification, and that being “too many things at once” is a superpower, not a flaw.
He’s grounding and gentle, always appearing when I need to stop trying to make sense of myself through other people’s frameworks.
His medicine: You are not a contradiction. You are a wonder.
There is something ancient and sacred about the stork. Long before modern mythology repurposed them into baby-delivery birds, storks were revered as souls in transit — messengers between the world of the living and the world of spirit. Felix arrived with his great wings fully spread, and I understood immediately: this one carries messages.
Felix is my bridge guide — the one who helps me receive transmissions from higher realms, ancestral wisdom, and the parts of my own intuition that live just above ordinary consciousness. His long neck stretches between worlds. His wingspan covers distances I can’t yet see.
He appears most strongly during periods of transition, when one chapter is closing and another hasn’t fully revealed itself yet, reminding me to trust the in-between. Stork energy is also tied to fertility — not just of the body, but of ideas, projects, and new beginnings.
His medicine: What is being born through you right now? Trust the delivery.
Yes, he’s a T-Rex. Yes, he has the exact energy of Rex from Toy Story — that glorious mix of terrifying primal force and absolute puppy-dog enthusiasm. And yes, this magnificent creature is my dedicated Protector guide.
Where Zorro guards the threshold — controlling what enters the sacred space — Mr. T guards me. He stands at my back with sixty-five million years of raw, unstoppable force behind him, and nothing gets to me without going through him first. The beauty of having a T-Rex as your Protector is that the mere suggestion of his presence tends to handle most situations before they even begin.
But Mr. T isn’t just brute force. He represents the deep, roaring, unashamed power that lives in all of us — the part that existed before self-doubt, before people-pleasing, before we learned to make ourselves small. He’s ancient. He’s enormous. And he is delighted to be here. That paradox is exactly his gift: you can be powerful and joyful simultaneously. You can take up space without apology and still approach life with wide-eyed wonder.
He shows up when I’m overthinking, when I’m shrinking, when I’m trying to be polite to energies that deserve to be roared at. As my Protector, he doesn’t just defend me from outside threats — he defends me from myself when I forget how formidable I am.
His medicine: You are not too much. You were never too much. I’ve got you. ROAR.
“Above the clouds, my team gathers — sword drawn, wings spread, tail wagging, bill twitching — and I am never alone in the work.”
Spirit guides don’t always arrive in the forms you expect. You might anticipate a wise elder in robes, a luminous angel, a serene spirit animal from some expected tradition. And then a T-Rex shows up grinning and you realize: Spirit has a sense of humor, and it knows you better than you know yourself.
Zorro holds the gate. Mr. T holds the field. Alfred reminds me that paradox is power. Felix carries my messages to and from the unseen. Between the four of them, I am guarded, guided, grounded, and never without a direct line to something greater.
I am well-guided. I am well-guarded. And the team, as you can see, looks absolutely magnificent above the clouds.
