The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.
–– WB Yeats
It's the word I land on when I can't quite explain what is happening but it has meaning, seems to come from the ethers, has a synchronicity one cannot replicate, feels it is born in the depths of the Universe where we begin and where we will rest.
As woo-woo as I've been accused of being, over the years, being human, I have always held a healthy amount of doubt.
Yes, I might declare a big OMG and retell a happening with the awe of a child, but I'd never fully given myself over to the truth of Magic.
After the death of my father in 1983 me, my mom and brother witnessed a profound visitation from him the second morning after his death. (you can hear this on episode 9 of The Death Dialogues Project Podcast). That should have been enough to dissipate any doubt about connections to the beyond.
I've remained open, intrigued and a tad doubting.
After my sweet brother and mother's deaths I started keeping a list on my iPhone notes of instances that felt like notable "contact." But as I've shared with others, until they come sit down and have a cuppa with me, I'll always hold some doubt.
More recently with all the unrest in the world, I've been making an extra effort to try to stay centered; I have more motivation than many because my health absolutely depends on trying to stay balanced.
Maybe that's why, more recently, on the daily, I keep getting intense signs of, er, Magic. That's really the only way I can describe it.
Presently on a solo writing retreat, in the middle of nowhere New Zealand, I awakened this morning, remained still, trying to rest in that liminal lucid space where I'm present yet still floating in the ethereal land of slumber.
I had a vision of Ram Dass, a teacher of love, who died last December; I'd had a profound dream of being in his presence, in another realm, the night of his death.
This morning, in awakening, I was imagining a scene from his movie where his friends roll him into the ocean on a wheelchair, with big balloon tires to negotiate the sand, and as he is in a depth to float they unleash him from the chair and support him floating. His ever expansive smile widens and deepens and he exudes even more pure joy than usual.
I'm lying in bed imagining how freeing and soothing that must have felt on his body that had been rendered still and partially paralyzed from a stroke decades ago.
I let myself imagine floating in the sea and recall how supported that feels. How that action literally renders one held by the Universe, the Earth Mother.
I remind myself to feel that support.
I send him love.
I send all my loves on the other side love.
When I pick up my phone and go to Instagram, this is what I see, I kid you not:
If you can stay open to both the suffering and the joys of life, you become connected to the living spirit and there’s a tremendous feeding going on. When you meet somebody that’s suffering, what do you have to offer them? You could offer them your empathy. That’s a good thing to offer because they feel somebody else is listening to them. The other thing you can offer them is your joy, your presence, and your ‘not getting caught in it all.’ - Ram Dass
It is occurrences such as this that act as a lightening bolt to validate: there is so much more to our living than meets the eye.
As you may have heard me say if you listen to the podcast: I'm totally down with the Great Mystery.
I don't need a doctrine to follow or a belief system to wrap it in or to know exactly what will happen at the moment of Death and beyond, but I have witnessed enough to know that it's all Magic.
And we can choose to walk in the Magic while here on earth, have a thread connected to it, until we join whatever that space may be on our final walk home.
That space that caused my mama's face to light up in a full face gorgeous smile (far from what her affect had been) as her spirit left her body. A face that said–– there you are; yes, I knew you'd be here; this, this is what I was wanting.
A face that had us cheering her on, you've done it mom, you're there, well done.
A face that had my husband lean over and say, we love you Wanda, go give Max a big hug for us.
One of my latest turning points, to release doubt further, was my experience with my podcast guest Marisa Meddin, an unlikely medium. She's just your average young woman, the age of our oldest daughters, who wasn't looking to find her gift, but it found her.
We have a two part episode where we hear her journey in Part 1 and then, so convinced of her authenticity, I engage her services and in Part 2 we unpack that profound experience. You can find part 1 and 2 of my chats with Marisa below. And if you are intrigued about my father's visitation you can find that episode below as well.
Consider noticing the "coincidences."
Consider making space for quiet and connection to the beyond.
Consider having conversations with your loves who have died and crossed over.
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