Stories about life, love, death, and what comes after.
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.
My dead friend came to me after meditation the other morning. I’d posed a question to her and she showed up to answer.
“The process of muddling through this life, of awakening again, isn't finding some outside truth or healing experience, it is excavating the truth of who we are, of shedding the layers of untruths and stories and experiences misinterpreted.”
“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.”
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.
"... 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."
Our loved ones in spirit will always be available when the stories of us need the stories of them to keep moving forward, to heal from grief, to feel the love again of those we've lost. The universe really is a hologram. It's all there, ready and waiting for a spark of energy -- a thought -- to create; for some aspect of the One to shine forth. We'll all go Home one day, dropping our costumes, waking up from the dream, and then we'll once again see our Self as the blindingly beautiful One that we are.
No one comes here with the intention of hurting another, and yet it happens. Our challenge is to remember that there is light within each of us, no matter how unlikely that may seem.
An Unexpected Mystic 