Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
In my pre-meditation reading (30 minutes for my SAD lamp to work its magic), I’ve been slowly rereading Roland Merullo’s “Lunch with Buddha.” I’ve been reading it for this passage, which comes at the end. (ALL of the Buddha books are fantastic. If you can’t stomach books on spirituality, these are novels, beautifully written, chock … Continue reading no regrets
Can the death of our loved ones bring gifts? Yes. Though I’d never have dreamed it eleven years ago, my husband’s last breath has led to joy.
I can’t breathe. She’s not perfusing. Three words can mark the end of one life and the beginning of another, unwanted one. What do we do with that?
Why would one we’re so close to in life fail to reassure us after death? Since Brenda died, my friend Raven and I have regularly said to one another (a little resentfully, to be honest), “that Brenda, she’s out there helping baby mediums, tickling our other friends on the head, coming through to people who never knew her in life. Where are OUR signs?”
“And then it was as if the roof was lifted off the chapel and there was a soft sort of whooshing, a feeling of expansion, and I instantly knew I wasn’t alone. I felt the expansion around me but also IN me. I heard a voice …”
We really are okay even when we don’t feel it. Grief doesn’t mean we’re broken or damaged. We can be healed AND sad, whole, shining, AND feeling alone. A little boy’s eyes reminded me of just how connected we always are, no matter how we may be feeling.
Even when we don’t ask for signs from spirit, we will get them. An anniversary gift from my dead husband, out of the blue. Still right here.
The Audubon guide said “I’ve never seen anything like it. Never. Not this close. Not this early. Not in these numbers. It’s unbelievable.” Only it’s not. Love landed three birds before us and they were a magnet for the rest. Our belief lands the gifts our people send us, and our acceptance is a magnet for more. Trust. Your. Self. Just do it.
I heard the last beat of her heart, my little dog. She was here, here, here. And then not. It seems impossible, the finality of that. And then she came back to me…
I've been reading a book called The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking, by Oliver Burkeman. It's fascinating, especially for people like me, long-steeped in the The Secret brand of optimism so pervasive in the metaphysical world. First, to be clear, positive thinking is great! I love a good affirmation as much … Continue reading hitting bottom: when the monster comes
An Unexpected Mystic 