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.
My brother in law died Sunday. It wasn’t unexpected. He’d been ill for years. But we also used to joke about his nine — or ninety — lives and how he seemed to escape death’s clutches over and over, so even in the last days there was some uncertainty.
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.
"That any of us get through this crazy human existence is a miracle. Best to hold tight and laugh and holler as much as we can. The waves ~ of grief, of trauma, of sadness, of all of it, the good stuff too ~ rush over us, but they also recede. There is joy to be found in sticking together."
“Instead of shooting through the front windshield to crush my skull against that house-sized hunk of metal, I crawled out of that car with only a burn on my neck from the seatbelt. I remember leaving Frank's Little Hut in Montrose as I'd done a dozen unbelted nights before. I remember pulling that seatbelt around me; doing it and wondering why at the same time. Guided. Always.”
"... 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?"
Suddenly, the room hushed and there was a weird change in the atmosphere. The clatter of cutlery on plates, the voices of those near me, the traffic passing by on Cherry Street, all of those sounds became muffled and there was a feeling of density in the air. At the same time the sound changed, everyone around me lost the vividness of their human suits and I could see with perfect clarity that there is nothing between us.
