Death–The Next Great Adventure

The Anatomy of Death: Notes from a Healer’s Casebook

So I have written a book about my experiences with the dying as a psychic-shamanic practitioner. I call it shamanic practitioner, as although I am part Native American, I cannot say that I learned of my calling and how to do it from a Native American Shaman, so I am not a shaman. I would call my mentor one, but she would not. She calls herself a student, as I do of myself.

What is this book about?  Who is Sarah? As Dumbledore might say, “To the well-ordered mind, death is but the next great adventure.” In conducting NIH-funded research in Reiki for chronic pain and in my own private practice as an energy healer, I found that some people who came for Reiki immediately got better, some did slowly over time, and some did not.  Others met with that final door we call death progressing through a distinct set of steps common to all of them, but in a relaxed and joyous way.  How and why was this?  In the course of their dying process, what had we done that was different?5031814-lg

The Buddhists have studied these processes over time and possess a finely tuned understanding of the function and meaning of death within their culture. For them, death is merely a punctuation mark, a single brushstroke in a much larger picture that goes on forever.   It’s all well and good that the Eastern perspective has come to such resolution about this process, but in a culture that worships youth and believes science has the answer to everything, how can death be looked at as anything other than a defeat?

I am primarily a storyteller; after a lifetime in the hard sciences, I now believe it is our stories that hold the ultimate power to transform. Though I have been given permission both by the patients and their families to tell these stories, their names and even some of the extraneous facts have been changed to protect their privacy. So attached to this post is Sarah’s story, which is about her journey through that final door.

The book will be published shortly on Amazon, The Anatomy of Death: Notes from a Healer’s Casebook. Feel free to print it, hand it around in its entirety.  Take it as allegory, if you like, or as an interesting, What If?

Photo: beckycockrumphoto.com

Ouroboros

So what is this blog’s purpose?  Well, many years ago, after a period of struggle–more on that later–I had a series of events happen to me as the result of me looking for change.  The “flatland” concept of reality, the one where most of our current concept of reality resides, left me bored and sick.  There had to be more to our lives than this morass of meaningless phenomenology. This led to me into a long period of study, some of it didactic, other parts purely experiential, and to the web name I’ve chosen to use for now, Ouroboric.  I have to admit that I first heard the name in the British space…comedy??? Red Dwarf.  Aside from being bloody hysterical, it had its deep moments as well, one of which is when the protagonist, Lister, finds a baby in a box labeled Ouroboros.  

Religious symbolism of unity of opposites (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It turns out that he is that baby, and that in all the time he’s been lost in space, he’s been reborn again and again in a multitude of different timelines, and these are just various aspects of himself that he’s been evolving through.  And that Lister, a hell-bent atheist, is the one who will trigger the second Big Bang, and is actually God.  Typical Brit perspective.

Upon looking it up, the Ouroboros is an ancient symbol similar to the Sacred Spiral seen in so many different ancient civilizations; it is the archetype of the serpent eating its own tail, the concept of opposites uniting through repeating cycles of time. It is symbolic of the idea that we as a group evolve to a higher level of understanding about ourselves as a spiral ascends, as opposed to the idea of Western civilization of pure linear evolution.

Then of course, there’s the episode when Kryten fixes the toaster.  The purpose of this blog may be to document that most of us–including me–most of the time are hell-bent on just making toast.

Come to think of it, I’ve got to go back and watch more Red Dwarf.