Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
I've spent the summer completing the most monumental task, one I never actually dreamed I could finally put to rest. I have written almost nothing in that time but on this day that I'm finally done, this memory popped up on Facebook. It's fitting, because two years ago when I wrote this, I'd just finished … Continue reading ch-ch-ch-changes
The whales' performance told me that. My husband confirmed the message. The sunbeam in my hands was a promise that nothing has changed in the last year, despite everything changing. It's so hard sometimes to quiet the roar of earthly life, but when we do, it's all right there: comfort, assurance, certainty, unbreakable connection. Reason to relax and just be. Truly, all is so very, very well. We are safe, held in a love beyond what we can begin to comprehend in our humanness. Trust. Everything's okay, even when it doesn't always feel like it.
Gifts from spirit are everywhere when we open our hearts and minds.
This is not mine but it is so delicious that I'm posting it on this extravagantly beautiful spring morning. This is from Danielle LaPorte, a spiritual teacher and author I don't recall ever hearing of. Yet this January 5 post rose into my Facebook newsfeed from out of nowhere. Gifts. They're everywhere. And this reminder … Continue reading you. me. some. one. now.
Death is an illusion. Love never dies. Our connections with those we loved in this life are eternal.
"... I've been trying to comprehend why we come back. Truly, to listen to my loved ones from the other side, to read the accounts of near death experiencers, even to have been immersed in my own holy STEs, why? What kind of nitwit leaves that for this?"
When I took off my wedding rings for the first time since Mike’s funeral, he had something to say. Signs are everywhere when we open our hearts.
Being present for our loved ones at the time of death brings great gifts. Listen to this podcast about the holy experience of sharing death.
"... What, after all, would be banging on the window on a quiet street at midnight? Brad opened the front door a few inches, peeked out, and suddenly there was a wild onslaught of heavy feathered body and flapping wings. A "really big" bird hurtled through the few inches of opening and shot into the house."
Years ago, about seven months after my husband died, I was driving across town on a glorious spring day, top down on my little car. I was thinking of the circumstances of Mike’s illness and death, of the countless instances of extreme neglect and serious errors which led to cardiac arrest, subsequent kidney failure and, … Continue reading forgiving the unforgivable
An Unexpected Mystic 