Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Contact with Maxton

Sometimes unexpectedly, the most incredible feeling of joy might appear in the midst of intense emotional anguish. I feel blessed that I was able to have such an experience as it was a tremendous help in my mourning process.

Two days had passed since the shattering news of Max's accident and I felt emotionally and physically ill. I lay down on the bed to meditate, a long-established practice. After learning of Max's passing, my husband and I had meditated together to help him and the family through this passage, but I had not taken the time to stop and meditate after that. Much to my surprise, almost immediately, I became aware of Max's presence! I saw him in my mind's eye, hovering a few feet away from my face, to the left, obviously very happy to have contact with his "Oma". He seemed as he had been in life, a happy giggly baby, but his presence was far more intense. Pure love and playful energy were streaming toward me. He was free and filled with such light and love, that I felt absolutely overwhelmed, and I began to laugh with delight at the irresistible feeling of fun and joy. I totally surrendered to the moment, pushing away the reality of his physical disappearance and then tears of relief and joy mixed in with the laughter. Our little baby was well, happy and still connected to us! I could hardly believe my good fortune: Baby Max was with me in spite of it all.

Of course, I realize that many will question the validity of my perceptions. It is very easy to attribute such an experience to delusory wish fulfillment in the wake of grief. How much can one really trust his/her own experience? Ultimately each one has to answer this for his or her own self, based on personal experience and philsophy. However remaining open to the Great Mystery and its many manifestations constitues the best way to find satisfactory proof.

After a while, in response to a question in my mind on how he had found me, I became aware of another presence connected to him. I was then "told" that "the grandmothers" had brought him to me. Much needs to be said about the "grandmothers" energy beyond the physical. I encountered it several years ago when I felt desperate, following a very painful incident in which I felt powerless to clear my name. Suddenly I became aware that my two grandmothers, who had passed away several years earlier, were paying me a visit to help me. At the same time, I became conscious that they were not alone: the room was crowded with all their own mothers and grand-mothers and great-grand-mothers ad infinitum, all relatives who are connected to me and care for me. I felt surrounded and protected by their love and realized that I was constantly bathed in a long stream of familial love which had run through physical time and exists eternally in the spiritual dimension. It was an unforgettable moment. I am not however suggesting that my own grand-mothers had brought Max to me, but rather that there exists a complex gestalt of spiritual energy whose great love and work manifests in this way. Very likely it was connected to Max's own great-grand-mother, my own dear friend and mother-in-law who had passed away a couple of years ago. But I did not recognize her energy signature. I believe that she is connected to Max in a way which defies my understanding at this moment.

I was then told quite clearly that the contact was not a casual one and that I was entrusted with delivering the message of Max's continued existence and love for all of us, to everyone who is mourning him. When I say "told", I do not mean that I heard words, but rather that the information was downloaded into my unconscious mind and as I became open to the information, it was translated into my own thoughts and perceptions. This mission was part of a spiritual contract of sort, which I only dimly comprehend. My own fears about my ability to convey such a message effectively fortunately were soon laid to rest. I found that I was able to relate my experience to several members of the family. I hope with all my heart that it was of help to them.

I am of course full of questions about the nature of our continued existence beyond the physical. I encountered death for the first time intimately at my father's wake over 25 years ago. He had died in a work-related accident. It was a tremendous shock, especially since I adored him and felt very close to him, even though I lived very far away. To my surprise, when I saw his body, I was not distraught but instead had the unequivocal realization that "Death is easy." His presence in the room was tangible and unmistakable. My family and I, all related similar experiences during the next month or so. And then one day we all felt that his energy had gone, transformed into something which we could not follow. After that I only had contact with him in dreams or on special occasions, such as my wedding or some other family gathering, where he was an unseen guest.

My focus on Max began to waver in spite of my delight at being with him, when I began questioning the nature of his spiritual existence. I became aware of a stream of energy extending outward and connecting him to many other forms. In one in particular, he appeared as a young man. I realized then that this was my own interpretation of his greater reality and continued growth in the spiritual dimension. However I was also told by the grandmothers that the-field-of-energy-that-is-Max is always accessible to me or anyone. As "baby" energy, he specialized in the emotional reality of love and playfulness. Tuning into his reality at that level can allow us to by-pass the intellectual, rational, immature mind, which so complicates our physical existence, and can give us direct access to the eternal experience of pure human love.

This encounter has made a tremendous difference in my accepting his death. Even though I ache for his physical presence and the unrealized dreams of Maxton as grand-son/son/nephew /cousin, I feel great comfort in the knowledge that I can tap into his continued existence. I only need to let myself have clarity and peace of mind. My contacts with him since have been comparatively hazy and fleeting. However if I visualize his energy as a sparkling sphere of bright light, it instantly gives me comfort and peace. I hope to become more proficient at tuning into his new reality and learn more from him and it further motivates me to create a more centered and meaningful life to honor his memory.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Max’s Smile


An Angel Star (or Max's Smile)


Make me a great poet I asked

So that I may tell the story of Max.

He was a mighty angel--

A great being of light

Grounded for a short time

On earth's paradise.

He caught us all unaware

Leaving without farewell

And we cried for him each day

Until our bodies begged for respite.

But a star is twinkling in the night

And it bears Max's smile.

Look to the sky in the dark of night

When the heart is still and light

And you will hear the whispers

Of a great being of light,

And catch the smile of an angel star.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Premonition

Time, which so enslaves our lives, is an illusion. Many mystics and religious traditions claim it to be so. Even quantum physics has come to validate this. However in the ordinariness of our lives, we are at its mercy, unable to break its spell. Yet we all know time's relativity intimately when we experience an interminable session in the dentist's chair or feel the fugacity of moments spent in a lover's arms. But still this is well within time's well-known realm. But what of those happenings, which seem to lift time's veil and allow us to peek into a dimension where events do not follow the familiar chronology? Perhaps we dream of something which later comes to pass; or we pick up the phone just as a loved one on the other side of the world is calling us; or everything in us screams that something is wrong, even if we do not let ourselves know consciously the precise shape of the looming tragedy.

I have experienced all of those, as many have, no doubt. I have learned to pay close attention. But still it is difficult to break the silence. Centuries of religious dictatorship and repression and decades of scientific skepticism and intellectual arrogance weigh upon the ordinary person and we effectively teach ourselves and our children to ignore the treasure trove of knowledge which lies at the threshold of our conscious mind. I am no more psychic than the next person, but my life-long curiosity about the nature of reality has yielded much evidence that there exists life beyond death's door, and that a large part of our mind, being an intricate part of a far vaster continuum of Reality, is tuned into unseen realms.

And so when I experienced bouts of anxiety for no obvious reason for several weeks (my life and my writing were going very well), when I could not make vacation plans because they felt wrong and when I became extremely agitated on that Friday afternoon, I knew that something was afoot. By Saturday morning, I had become ill but still fighting the feeling, insisted that we had to get out and do some sightseeing. My unconscious mind knew; my body knew; I had experienced a very similar sequence of events several times in my life prior to a loved one's passing, but my conscious mind effectively refused that knowledge. After walking around in a picturesque town somewhat aimlessly, we came back to horrifying news.

Coincidentally, this is the last entry of a novel that I am in the process of writing on the day before Max's death:

"I dreamt that I was in a great hall made of crystal where many transparent creatures dressed in gossamer silk were singing for you, Mia!" exclaimed Asiboo. "It was a very strange and wonderful dream."

Tears came to Mia's eyes and she shook her head in acknowledgement, unable to speak. Asiboo looked at her in amazement:

"This dream is familiar to you, I see. Can you tell me its meaning?"

"It means: never fear," she struggled, "there is only love. Only love, Asiboo."

He shook his head in agreement, smiled and closed his eyes again. She suddenly felt a great weariness and let the heaviness of her eyelids close upon the world. She heard Eesak and Sicana's crystalline laughter and a cacophony of voices wavering into a beautiful harmony.


"Take my hand, Asiboo," she said. The old man smiled and together they ascended the great crystal staircase.

"Do you hear them?" she asked. He smiled in reply. "Some call them fairies, and some call them angels. Some even call them devils and fear them!" she laughed.

Out of the shimmering air, a form emerged and an old woman appeared in front of them.

"And this one I call sister!" laughed Mia with delight.

"Welcome!" smiled Alscina.

"You may go with her, if you wish, Asiboo."

The old man turned toward Mia and his eyes filled with light.


Mia awoke to a crowd of people surrounding them.

"He is gone!" cried Anrita. "Asiboo has passed away!"

Her eyes met Eesak's eyes and she saw in them the same light which had filled Asiboo's: It was the goddess's own light-- It was love.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Mourning

Mourning

(To Leif, with my deepest love)


 

Listen to the sound of my heart breaking

It slices the world in two

Never again to be reconciled

With childish joys and play


 

See the light in my eyes fading

The shadows floating between worlds

Slowly growing inside my mind

And taking hold of my life


 

Hear the sound of her heart breaking

My love knew no boundaries

Yet promises can no longer be kept

To keep despair at bay


 

Watch the breath of the morning

Slowly fading on the window pane

Holding time hostage

Until I find myself again

Thursday, August 20, 2009

To Maxton--Our little Angel

To Maxton--Our little angel

Did you hear a choir of angels
As you descended inot the night?
Did you feel the arms of the grandmothers
Welcoming you home?

Did you come to teach us about angels
who walk this earth unrecognized?
Did you come to show the way to heaven on earth
when love lights our hearts even in the deepest night?

I heard a choir of angels singing of Love's eternal light
I saw gossamer and gold angels dancing in the night
And felt the brush of a thousand gentle hands
Holding me up to the light; I heard a choir of angels.

Love forever, from Oma Annebeau