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.
It is very rare that I feel led to share something like this — and I get nothing for doing so. Just hoping that others may find this as useful as I have. Peace, centeredness, connection with spirit. All of the good things are here.
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.”
“…then I fell flat on my face and heard every bit of that too. … And isn’t that the perfect metaphor for life? Peace, beauty, something fearsome, magic, seemingly at every turn, and then a wholly unanticipated wallop that lays us flat out.”
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
“And then it was as if the roof was lifted off the chapel and there was a soft sort of whooshing, a feeling of expansion, and I instantly knew I wasn’t alone. I felt the expansion around me but also IN me. I heard a voice …”
Gifts from spirit are everywhere when we open our hearts and minds.
“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.
An Unexpected Mystic 