Tuesday, October 13, 2015

The Sound of Silence


When a death occurs, to me, there is a distinct silence that becomes detectable.  It’s similar to when you are sleeping with a fan on and someone turns it off.  The silence awakens you.  When someone leaves this world it leaves a "vibrational" deficit that is temporarily audible.  Yes, death has a distinct non- sound to it.   Each person has a different sound or vibration they contribute to this world.  Just as we have all have voices that are unique and recognizable, we have some sort of unique vibrational sound also. That's some deep stuff right there, huh?

The closest scientific explanation I have is that we know atoms vibrate.  We are made up of atoms. That’s the limit of my physics knowledge, so I will stop there.





I knew my friend Sandy's father had passed a few weeks ago.  I knew by the sound-not-sound and the rest of it, well, there is no viable explanation.  I just knew it was him.  I felt his presence and got the phone call an hour later.


Obviously, I don’t do this with every single death, or I wouldn’t be able to function. I do it with people I know or loved ones of people I know.  And when it comes to me, it feels very neutral; it just feels like information.  No, I am not calloused to it, I have just learned to accept it as part of the circle of life and I do get heartbroken when people pass, just like anyone else.

This gets even harder to explain.  As a matter of fact, I have been working on this post for several months, trying to find the right words.

How do the deceased communicate?  For me, it's through both images and knowing.  It sounds so arrogant, doesn't it?  I know. Yet, I can forget where I put my reading glasses ten times a day.

Here is the closest I can get to explaining "knowing".  First of all, knowing means it's clear with no room for doubt.  It's a conviction, just like I know the keyboard right now is at my fingertips or you know you are reading this at this very moment.

 The only way to describe it is this: It's very similar to how we dream.  We have all had dreams in which we may be unaware of our surroundings visually, yet by associating the feelings and emotions attached to a particular time frame or moment in our lives, we are fully aware the dream is taking place in, for example a house from childhood or a classroom in high school.  How many times have you shared a dream and said "I know you were there, but I couldn't see you"?  or  "I know you were there, but you looked like someone else". Often, in our dreams, we may simply sense or have an awareness that an individual is in a dream just by how we feel; yet never see their face.  We just know by our feelings or emotional reactions where the dream is taking place or who is in it.  The images I see are about the same.  Like in a dream. That about sums it up.

It's also important to differentiate  between thinking, imagination, memory, and knowing.  Thought precedes imagination; therefore it is a cognitive process.  When we imagine something, we are actively involved in following that particular train of thought.  For example, you are thinking of ways to decorate for a birthday party.  You imagine what color balloons you may need.  You then start picturing different colors and trying them out for size.  Yellow.  No.  Green. No.  Blue.  Yes! You now have a mental picture of blue balloons and begin processing any other decorations that will fit with that color scheme.





 A memory is evoked by thought, so it’s part of a cognitive process also. We could have a discussion about your grandmother and her wonderful baking.  If you go deep enough into that memory, you can hear her voice, smell the cookies in the oven or even feel what the room temperature was.  Momentarily, she becomes alive and you are there with her, experiencing the event again.  Memory occurs with retrospection.






When I get a “message”, I always play devils advocate with myself.   Is this memory or imagination? Was I thinking about that person before something came to me?  Was I reminded of some event that evoked a memory?  Had someone given me clues about this person and I am imagining what they were like?  It’s part of being a responsible, honest medium.

It’s not that difficult to differentiate between memory and imagination, once you are aware of how it works.  I know we are all smart enough to know this, but it isn’t really something we ponder on.

One thing that I have never been able to explain or understand is how a deceased loved one can still hold on to a personality.  We know personality clearly defines someone, its part of identifying someone.  “Jessica is so easy going.  She rolls with the punches” or  “Kenneth is always so passionate about injustice”.  You know how that works.  Yet, when a loved one comes through, their personality still seems intact.  Before my ex husband even spoke of his father (who was passed), I felt his presence many times.  I could undoubtedly say he was ornery, liked to play practical jokes and expressed affection through teasing.  He was uncomfortable being outright with his emotions, so playful banter was his way of saying “I care about you.”  I was right (of course, tee-hee). 


How it works is beyond me and any woo-woo explanation seems ridiculous.  I think at this point, it’s clear that I can’t stand these umbrella explanations that everyone buys into as if it’s a fact.

Here is my sort-of-theory on this.  When I am face to face with someone and detecting a passed loved one, I often wonder if I am not able to tap into the living persons memory, instead of the other way around.  Our memories have a life of their own, anyone knows how diving deeply into a memory can take us back to the moment it occurred.  Perhaps those memories are so powerful they create a specific energy that can be tapped into?  Maybe no one is really a medium; the gift may lie in literally reading someone else’s memories.  Sometimes, that makes more sense than anything.


I have no answers, but this has been my attempt at trying to explain it.





Monday, October 12, 2015

Love and the Horrible Boss





My ex husband once had the Fidel Castro of bosses.  There is no sitcom, cartoon or movie that could even come close to how despicable this man was.  He was so concerned with his mounds of money that he had no idea that there was a big beautiful world outside his vault.

He sincerely believed he was a "good" business man, but he was so mean and hateful that he had run off business to the point that the phone no longer rang and refused to recognize it was he who had caused the problem.

His employees had to bring their own toilet paper to work.  The Boss Man thought it was not “cost effective” to provide assistance with natural body functions.  And in the extreme summer heat, he refused to provide water for these folks, water was another unnecessary cost. His method of "leadership" was to yell and scream at his employees to humiliate them.  It was clear he was not only a cheap skate, but a control freak with a lint trap for a heart.

My ex was being paid quite well at the time. With no warning, he cut my husbands salary more than half.  Imagine finding that out the hard way when there are bills to pay.

I was so full of rage it was unbearable.  If you have ever experienced this, you know what I mean.  It tears at you.  It wears you down.  It consumes you. 

I had to let this go in a way that was so excruciating; I didn’t want to do it.  As a matter of fact, it took me weeks to get to this point.




The back story here; I had one of those injuries where you have no explanation as to how it happened; perhaps I fell off a cliff and didn’t remember.  My knee had been bothering me for a week to the point I was barely getting around. I was going to call the doctor, but inspiration hit me where I had a moment of tenderness and I knew full well that I had to cease the moment, before I did anything else.  It had to be genuine, authentic and with the proper intention behind it and I was there.

I hobbled in to my office.  I sat down on the floor screaming in agony.

It was time to to ponder on the nature of Bosses existence.  I believe that in order to let go of anger at another individual, you must try and understand the other person.  In Buddhism, it’s called “heart centered compassion” and it can be a real bitch to get there. It’s a vital part of letting go and possibly one of the most difficult things to achieve. And letting go of hurt and resentment is a process, sometimes a painfully slow process at that.

I think it’s also foolish and unrealistic to think that it’s not okay to feel anger.  It's simply a feeling.  Nothing more.  Anger, when embraced, can become a jumping off point and perhaps more imperative to healing than we give credit.  This emotion exists to teach us to work at letting go of something. Harboring anger and resentment does nothing but affect the individual feeling it in a negative way.  It has literally no effect on the other person.  Being angry with someone doesn’t change them, but it does change you…and not in a good way…unless you chose to turn it into something positive.


I imagined Boss in his office.   What would make someone so shallow and money hungry that it becomes their entire existence?  Was he abused as a child and never let it go?  Had he experienced something so horrible that he felt as if he needed to control everything around him?  Did he feel as if the world “owed him something” because of something he could never make peace with? Did he know what gratitude, love and compassion felt like?  What would it feel like to have created such an awful reputation for yourself that people recoil at the mere mention of your name?  Does any of this bother him?

Surely, you have to be empty when your only goal in life is to make money and treat the people who help you make that money like crap.  I felt compassion and sorrow for him.

I lit a bundle of sage and blew the smoke his way.

 May peace and love soften your heart. May you find love and compassion.  My prayer is that you experience a shift, a shift so powerful that you know and understand gratitude for what you have, instead of greed for more.  I hope that you are feeling this now; that someone cares about your wellbeing and evolution as a human being.

I sat in silence for a while, just to stay grounded in compassion.  After a while, I braced myself to crawl back up, knowing it would hurt. 

My knee didn’t hurt at all.  I was shocked, thinking that maybe I had just popped it back into place when I was sitting.  To confirm, I did several deep knee bends.  I stood on my bad knee and jumped up and down.  It was fine.  Three weeks later it was still fine.  Three months later--four months later-- it never bothered me again.  

This confused me.  Isn’t the point of trying to send love and compassion to someone else to help heal them?

It became the A-ha moment when I learned that love can heal.  Not in the woo-woo way, but in a deep profound way. Was this a reward for actually caring about someone who needs cosmic attention?  Had my own anger settled in my knee as a metaphor? Do we heal ourselves when our intentions for another are genuine and authentic?  Yes, yes and yes.  Could it have been a fluke?  Of course.  Maybe I just sat in a way that somehow placed my knee back where it should have.

Boss is still an asshole.  It didn’t work on him, but I can still run and skip down the street without buckling in pain.


Amen.