The Mirrored Candle

All laid before me in an instant and all time was now.   Suddenly I was everything, from the tiniest grain of sand to within the molecules of the birth of stars. I could see everything, the Earth and its flora and fauna, man and woman, as we developed on this planet, our history, the great wars, from spears and arrows to the boom of artillery and the mushroom of mass destruction, even the evolution of life in other systems. I was not only observing these things but I also was those events, and those animals and peoples. Cycle after cycle presented itself, souls coming in and going out of the dance. There was no emotion attached to any of it, except the hum of the Universe, the sound it makes, which is a song that goes on forever; a limitless place where everything, every time, is now.

A pure energy runs through all things. Death and life are an innate part of it; there is no thing outside of this energy. It is beyond love and hate. There is no fear; that is nowhere outside of ourselves, an illusion that we have constructed. Fear is based on the concept that we are limited and we have not, and that has no meaning, because we are made up of the very material that the stars are made of, all falls under the lens of our intention.

I watched planets as they spun off gargantuan suns, bits of molten metal, saw peoples and histories on foreign planets rise and fall, explosions of stars, watched as far away galaxies were born, danced in awe and joy as the pattern of all things revealed itself.  An endless Moebius strip, looping on itself, no beginning and no ending.

I thought of all the people I knew, those I loved and those I thought had opposed me, and in that instant I was seeing from their perspective. I saw their lives, past and present, like an overlay, faces and lives and timelines diverging and converging. It’s a strange thing to witness, all the things we are. But in that moment I developed real empathy, for I saw the fear and the isolation that we all labor under everyday. It is the idea that we walk this life separate and alone, and that we each knock on the final door of death by ourselves. That is the illusion; none of these things are real. The matrix that binds us is one fabric; there is no “other.” It’s all one thing, no one or thing is outside of this vast array of experiences known as life, it’s all there for the asking. Those who had opposed me had done so out of the mistaken idea that I had the power to take something away from them, or they wanted something they thought I had. In All That Is, that idea has no meaning.

I thought of other worlds, and as I’ve said before, in the world of thought and energy, the moment you think it, there you are. Instantly I was in another physical dimension on a planet very far away.   If there were laws of gravity, that’s not how I would have explained them. There was no “up” or “down,” it was only “here.” I became aware that I was in the presence of a creature half my height; the basis of their physical matrix, I think, was silicon rather than carbon, it resembled something vaguely out of Dr. Seuss. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was trying hard not to laugh. I thought he was very funny-looking, he was sort of a pastel-green and rather pudgy, but I knew I must have looked just as funny to this little creature.

We spoke wordlessly, or rather because we were of the same matrix and were each other, we knew instantly; pure communication, no ego, no masks, no dust thrown in the eyes, just authentic connection. We almost never get that here, but it’s as comfortable as a pair of old shoes. They know everything about you and you know everything about them, and it’s all fine, pure acceptance. I saw a soul like mine, the same lessons and the same path, just a different context.

You mustn’t get the idea that this was all drama and seriousness, I was as thrilled and happy as a kid on roller blades, zooming around, the Universe is pure music and laughter, you can’t help but join in. You don’t have to take lessons to learn how to fly, you are born knowing.

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Many years ago I had a vision of talking to Jesus. I had been raised Catholic but I had gone through a period when I started down this path of questioning my handed-down beliefs. I was starting over from the beginning at this point. I am truly a skeptic. Years before this vision, though, I had been at a retreat and I had considered the question, ‘Who was this Jesus, and why had he come here?’ Well, the Universe will always answer your questions; you just have to be open to the answer.

One of my first visions came in a meditation at a retreat. In it, I saw a man in white walking towards me. His energy was tremendous, radiating all around him, but very gentle, all in white-gold. Still, I had a hard time believing he was who I suspected he was. I look back on it now and think that it was screamingly obvious; I just couldn’t believe he had come through for me.

‘Uh…who…who are you???’ I asked. I was stuttering, I was so freaked out.

‘Who do you think I am?’ The man smiled.

‘Are you Jesus?’

He smiled again and said nothing, and then to use a terrible cliché, I got blinded by the Light. Emanating from this being was the most intense energy, light and love that I had ever experienced. When you are at that level of energy, physical boundaries become meaningless, and I felt myself merging with him and All That Is. There was no such thing as other, it was all One. I was not ready for such love and connection yet, so I panicked. I felt I was losing who I was in the onslaught.

‘Stop, I can’t handle it!’ He pulled his energy back immediately.

‘OK, he said, still smiling gently.

‘Thanks…thanks, I…thank you, I just can’t handle that level of energy yet.’ I felt ridiculous for refusing.

‘OK, you…you are…him…’ I couldn’t even say his name.

‘I am always here…

‘OK…thanks.’ I avoided looking at him, I wasn’t too sure I was comfortable with the idea of seeing Jesus, either. This vision had really scared me. He slowly faded out before me, but I thought about it for a long time afterwards.

So now we come forward again to this out-of-body experience. I was now eager to finish the interaction that had begun so long ago; there was something I had missed and I wanted to find out what it was.

The closest I can come to describing what I was feeling is the joy of experiencing music, only multiplied a million times over, with nothing between you and forever. Star formations, black holes, thousands upon thousands of galaxies, colors with no names, sounds, tones like the largest pipe organ you will ever hear, it went on with no limit. Everything is resonant and harmonized and seems to work perfectly together, although not in the way you would expect. It is the blending of creation born of chaos.

No sooner had I thought of finishing the meeting with ‘that person’, than immediately I again shifted perspective. I was now hanging above a planet in a solar system very far away. It looked like Jupiter, huge, red, gas-covered, rotating slowly and majestically around a fiery sun, hanging in space, although I knew somehow that it was a million galaxies away from Earth. The backdrop of stars on blue velvet hung behind it, but the constellations were completely different from the ones we know here.

Up to now, I had perceived myself as looking like I do now, a woman from Earth, small, but still human in form. Now, instead of this woman, I was pure energy, a huge ball of white light edged in gold, and I realized that it was my true nature. To be your true essence is like no other feeling, it’s like coming home. Another ball of white light hung near me. Again, this tremendous level of loving energy flooded me, merging us together. This time I recognized immediately who it was and didn’t fight it. We merged into two personalities with one consciousness.

Then immediately like lightning striking, I got it. I started laughing, and he laughed with me. All That Is sparkled and danced at the sound.

‘You get it now, don’t you? He said.

‘Yes. I get it now.

Years ago, back in the forties, there was a comic strip called Pogo, about a little fox-like creature who was environmentally conscious long before it was fashionable. In one strip, Pogo took a famous quote from a World War I general and turned it around for his own purposes. The general had said it after winning a battle, the name and the general now long forgotten. What he said was “We have seen the enemy, and we have won.” In an ironic twist of words, Pogo, referring to our misuse of the Earth and its resources, said, “ We have seen the enemy and it is us.” What came to me was the reason for our existence, why and where God is, all of this.   I was laughing now because it was so obvious; it’s right in front of our noses.

‘I have seen divinity, and it is us. I replied, I could hardly even think, I was laughing so hard. Tears of laughter flew off like sparks. There was no difference; him, us, everything, it was all the same, and all of this, this magnificent, real illusion, had been created solely for us.

His energy sobered down, and he became serious.

‘You have to go back, you know.

‘I don’t want to go. I have never said anything so heartfelt in my whole life. This was where my true nature lives, where we all live. I thought about what he was asking me to do.

‘You promised.

‘I know. Somehow I knew that I had made that promise. Later when I looked back on it, I realized that I had really been given a choice as to whether I wanted to come back, so the closest description to this vision would be of sort of a near-death experience.

My perspective never quite went back to the way it was before, although there’s always more work to do. I don’t think we’re ever done if we’re still here. But this is the question, this is it, the canvas we’ve been given, to create, to love, to be here now, to find out that the reflection in the mirror is really us. Are you there in your life? It’s for you.


 

American Rituals

My father-in-law passed away at 85 years old a week ago Thursday.  He had suffered a mild stroke about a year ago, which left him slightly without words and his balance severely affected.  This became worse as time went on, although his brain scans showed no real signs of deterioration.  It impacted him emotionally–he had always been one of those “can-do” people–and this left him having to ask everyone for help, with very few words to do it with.  His self-image was fatally wounded by this, and contributed to his failing functionality.   10 days before his passing, he had fallen again, and this time the fall was precipitated by a stroke.

My husband’s family is unique, they unanimously chose to let it run its course, rather than to surgically intervene.  I’d seen them do this before, rather than struggle with extreme medical decisions and hopeless, painful procedures in the face of little hope, they had surrendered to the end process.  We were sure that this is what John wanted in this case, he had been miserable for months, with little quality of life.

His entire family was present, my mother-in-law, her two children and their wives, and his seven from a previous marriage with their spouses.  This definitely led to a crowded hospital room at times.  But when he finally passed, he waited until almost everyone had left the room, the only ones present were two of his sons.  I have seen this before, the dying person, even though seemingly unaware, waits for the closest to them to leave the room.  It’s not an insult, if anything, it’s an attempt to shield their loved ones from the final blow.  I’ve seen it too often for this not to be the case.

I entered the room some minutes after his transition occurred, to give the immediate family some space.  Since I have trained to perceive these things, I noticed that John, after exiting his body, was in the corner of the room, standing next to his wife, a bit in shock.  I greeted him, let him know I could see and hear him, but also waited for the priest to administer the Catholic Prayer for the Dead.  This is common to every spiritual path and religion I have studied–there is always a prayer directing the separated spirit where to go next.  John then immediately exited, but came back later to be with his wife, and to watch his funerary rites.

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As experienced as I am with this process, I had never experienced a funeral like this Midwestern German Catholic ritual, threaded with family and friends who have known each other for their whole lives.  As a rule, we don’t do things this beautifully any more.  John had been greatly loved, he was a sweet man who cared for everyone.  He was also a veteran, and so they gave him a 21-gun salute, precisely executed in full regalia by the local American Legion.  But the entire process took 2 days, a wake of 4 hours, then another 3 hour viewing the next morning, a High Catholic Mass for the Dead, another service at the cemetery, followed by a reception at the family home.  I had helped prepare the body before leaving the hospital, that is my way of processing.  Most people are not aware that you can do any or most of the preparation yourself, other than the actual embalming.  For me, as odd as it sounds, it’s therapeutic.  All of us will walk this path on our last day.

Several hundred people attended his funeral, which was beautifully done.  I was struck by the decorum, the singing, the eulogies, the beauty of the priest’s vestments and the church, all in honor of this dear old man.  Oddly, all of the other funerals I had attended have been almost cursory in implementation, quickly over in an less than an hour, as if to get it over with quickly.  Surely these rituals are conducted in honor of the deceased, but more for addressing the terrors of the living.

I had to curb my impatience at several points, many of his relatives, particularly his sons were traumatized by this event, emotionally misunderstanding that this was the end of their relationship.  Since John was now fine, and spent much time conversing with me, (and shushing me when he wanted to listen!) I had to recall that to these people, this was ending, and even the promise of meeting him again was at that moment, no comfort to them.  Nor were they in any place to accept this information, and it would have been arrogant of me to try.  I mourned this for them, as that is my sincerest wish, that we become more relaxed and familiar with this process, understanding that the “end” is no such thing, and release from pain, and joy awaits.

I had to smile in several instances, John loved all the pomp and ceremony.  If we only knew that the “departed” is actually a sometimes amused participant at their own party.

Seeing Beyond the Veil

My uncle, a week before he passed at 100 years of age, saw his father coming to to take him home.  His caregiver, Ed, told me in heavily accented English of the dream that woke my uncle, and Ed also with his yelling, in the middle of the night.  He was pointing at the ceiling, and babbling about his father, whom clearly he could see, but no one else.

From my own experience, I was not surprised at this; when someone is really getting ready to pass over, that is one of the hallmarks, they see their loved ones in spirit coming for them.  I can feel them, and see them as well.  When the room is full, then I know it’s time.

Neither of these phenomena, the appearance of their loved ones in Spirit, nor my ability to sense them, are unique.  The first of these has been documented, and quite a bit.  You can find it in the medical/nursing literature–several papers I referred to in my dissertation (Betty, LS, 2006; Brayne S et al, 2006) cataloged rough percentages–30-70%–of people dying in hospice who experienced this.  More significantly, CNN made note of it as well in the documentary, Do the dead greet the dying?  It doesn’t appear to be talked about much.

Many insist that it is the paroxysms of the dying or drugged mind that creates such visions.  Perhaps–but many occur weeks before death when the person is in relative comfort and quite lucid.  But if they are real–and I confess to believing as much, then what a comfort that could be upon our last journey?

P1050658How I know is part of what I do, and that is not uncommon either.  All mediums have some means of perceiving the dead.  It took a while to open the channel, and then get familiar with such contact–but it’s much like being a doctor or engineer, it’s part of my job–a part of my professional toolkit.  I am not an isolated case, there are many others that do this.  One I can think is Rosemary Altea, who wrote The Eagle and the Rose.  There are other beliefs and sites that talk about it, NWSpiritism is just one of them.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, upon her deathbed, asked a student about what they thought about the dead visiting the dying.  His student replied that it was only the dying brain producing comforting hallucinations.  She looked at him and sighed, “It will come with maturity.”

Perhaps at some point we also, with maturity, will see beyond the veil.