Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
“It’s one thing to say “I am the light!” when we are surrounded by the blaze of our fellow souls. It’s quite another to be immersed in the travails of human life and to come to see that we still shine.” Brenda didn’t really believe she was all of that until she stepped out of her tired Brenda suit and into her full Zsa Zsa magnificence.
What if we do everything right and things still go wrong? (If you’re experiencing the absolute JOY of the “law” of attraction in action, skip this one.) But if you’re not, know that is still possible to live in peace AND with joy, even when times are hard.
Our people do not leave us. They may leave our awareness and we can work to get that back. To a degree. Mostly an unsatisfying degree. It’s hard to give up constancy. It activates all of the why’s and a sense of unfairness and that deep, irreparable feeling of having something stolen from us. It isn’t the same. I wish I could say it was. But for many of us ~ me included ~ what comes after grief can bring incredible gifts. That is absolutely true and I am so very grateful it’s been my experience that after a long time of the most hopeless misery, I found something that helped and healed not only my broken heart, but a fear of death that held me captive for decades.
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 saw Mike standing completely still at the edge of the cliff, looking out over the rim at the surrounding landscape and I went to him. He was wide-eyed. He looked stunned. Alarmed, I asked, “What happened to you?” And I will never forget what he said, my rational-minded though deeply spiritual husband: “I don’t know but when I got to the top of the cliff, something swept me to my knees. I was overwhelmed with the presence of God and I knew that I had been here before, that I had lived here once.”
My prayer right now for every one of us is that we can fully remember peace. Not faux peace, or a pretense, but rather the eternal peace that always lives within, no matter what storms life brings. I’m in grief right now and, per usual, I don’t see anything good in it. Experience whispers that … Continue reading a prayer for all of us. amen.
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.
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?”
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…
An Unexpected Mystic 