Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
I was huddled in the corner of the room crying, a blanket over my head. Brenda was next to me in an ER bed, crying from pain. In the midst of chaos and sorrow, a shiny sign from my dead husband. And only hours later, we were laughing so hard the nurses shushed us. “All our darkness will turn to light.” It’s true.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the randomness, chaos, and utter unpredictability of life. We all have free will, of course. But alas, so does every other being we encounter. I may plan for a direct, sunshine-y, drama-free path, yet there all y’all are, out there in your bumper cars, driving all crazy and slamming into things.
“That was the thing in that dusty old building. It was the little something extra in the web Mike was weaving, a little lagniappe that led me to the certainty that these events weren’t simply by chance…”
How we can see things that allegedly aren’t there, according to the Human Rule Set (lies, for the most part, trickery to allow us to forget who we are), is something I don’t understand. But that I have seen things and experienced things deemed impossible is enough.
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?”
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.
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'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 