Our Spiritual Path

"Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learn here. Our spiritual journey is the relinquishment, or unlearning, of fear and the acceptance of love back into our hearts." ~Marianne Williamson

The older I get and the more aware I become, the more everything makes sense: my life, my choices, as well as all of the difficult lessons I've had to learn along the way. 

I've been taught or more exactly, shown, by my spirit guide, Dinahh, that every choice any of us make, every choice we've ever made, is the right choice -- for us at that time. There are no wrong ones. Each time we've made a decision, that decision took us down a new and separate path of discovery and learning, complete with a new set of lessons and experiences -- the amazing thing is, all of them were designed by God and the universe to aid us in our journey to spiritual awareness.

As Dinahh has told me, each decision we make, each path we travel, or experience we live, brings a different outcome. Some paths will bring pain and heartache, others profound joy and happiness, still others, passion and creativity, but always, we continue to learn about ourselves, and all of it is necessary for our personal and spiritual growth. As we become more and more aware, we learn another important element to further spiritual growth -- eliminating, or throwing away, the fears, the blame and the guilt, (the baggage), we've accumulated along the way. This is also known as lessening the karma.

The funny thing is, the universe doesn't really care how long it takes us to complete our journey here on this plane gathering human experiences. With the universe, there is no time, only infinity, so there are no time constraints or time limits. Ironically, it's completely up to us how long we take, and through however many lifetimes (incarnations) we might need, to grow in our awareness and until we can at last remember who we truly are. We seek to remember where it is we came from, and ultimately, return home again.

Everything is perfect in the universe -- God doesn't make mistakes -- everything is and will always be just as it should be.

Namaste. 

Nostalgia of Living

by Robert Cosmar

In a couple of days, I'll be sixty years old.  Over the past few years, I've looked back and reminisced over times, events, and memories of the years I've lived.  I especially enjoy going to YouTube and seeing the 60's artists still singing their tunes from that era. It's both magical and sad all at once.  I'm amazed at how those songs still ring deeply inside me and can arouse emotions and memories long buried. It's fun to watch the audience as they smile and recall their own memories, heartbreaks and feelings.

I'm also reminded that while it's good to relive the past, it isn't good to be stuck there. Many people stay stuck in the past and never live a full life in the NOW. They've lived a long life and made choices in most cases that were almost unconscious. Time takes its toll on us mentally, emotionally and especially physically. Escaping into the past or having an addiction to the future seem like common ways to avoid the question, "What about NOW?"  Death speaks louder with each friend or associate who leaves us, reminding us we're mortal and time isn't our ally.

The years fly by and we come to sense an end is coming.  All that we held familiar is slowly slipping from our consciousness. How amazing life has been; how magical the moments we've shared and experienced. Do we have to leave this someday? Is this the whisper we hear within?  The answer comes, "All that you have known and experienced of your special time here is going. Do you want to stay behind when all that you've experienced and known passes you by and dissolves into eternity, never to be experienced again?"

This is when I realized -- life is unique.  Our times are special and custom-made for us alone. Never again will there be a time like I experienced -- it was MY time and My life -- custom-made and designed for me alone to share with a special group of others that I feel a connection to.

Generations come and go and it feels like they all have a separation of thoughts, feelings and beliefs. The stage is the same, but the play and players are different. Life is a much like a revolving door or a circular revolving stage where several plays are presented at the same time. Each is a play, but they all cover different topics, each dependent upon the life that it touches.  More than ever, I feel that our lives are very personal and an intimacy exists with each generation for the time they live. The issues, topics and experiences are all very personal to each generation.

With advancing age, it's easy to become depressed and disillusioned as we see opportunities and experiences slipping away.  Life, as we see and experience it, is for the young, those with the power to earn and those with enough energy to accomplish set goals.  For the old, there's the past to remember and the mystery of death to make peace with.

I hope as the years go by and I see my body lose its appeal and my hair completely falls out, that I'll never lose the awe and wonder of my heart.  I hope I can still write poetry and stories, share insights from my soul, and that I'll continue to marvel at and enjoy the love of my mate. I've made a pact with the universe to meet it halfway and I'll share the thoughts, feelings and insights that come from them. To do that, I can't dwell in the past or live in hopes of some imaginary future. It is NOW, inside me, inside my heart, where I'm aware that love is forever.  Love never dies.

Namaste.

Spirit Guides and Children

I've written a lot about whispers from the universe and Dinahh, who first appeared in 2009. I've also written about events leading up to that first meeting, how they affected me personally, and how puzzling and strange it all seemed, even making me feel like I was weird or worse, crazy. 

I've also explained how he's helped me to understand my growing awareness and to see the whispers I've had since childhood, not as a curse, but as a gift.

Today, I'm writing about spirit guides again, but from another angle. In talking with Robert and Dinahh, I've come to believe that when we're born, we're still very much connected to the universe spiritually. 

Children can and do hear their guidance, and some even see them. Who hasn't known a child, or heard of one, or maybe even was a child who had an imaginary friend? Society thinks it's "cute" and most people even play along with the child for awhile, but eventually they are told to stop pretending, stop fantasizing, or to grow up, because an imaginary friend is only make-believe. 

It's all of the outside influences -- parents, teachers, friends, schools, etc., -- which cause a child's normal and natural spiritual connection to break down and they finally tell their imaginary friend (spiritual guide), "You're not real". Society wants and insists, that we use our minds, not our hearts and our feelings, which by their true nature, keep us connected with the universe. 

My oldest daughter, Carrie, had an imaginary friend. She first told me about Sherla when she was a toddler and just learning to talk. Sherla was very real to her. With everything we did, Sherla was included. We set a place for her at the breakfast, lunch and dinner table. Sherla was tucked in, read to and even hugged at bedtime, and Sherla was even included when we said our night-night prayers. It was such an innocent pretense, and I was happy to indulge Carrie. 

When I was a child, I remember my parents did the very same thing with the Boogie Man, because someone told one of my brothers that the Boogie Man would get him. The Boogie Man became, to us, a friend, almost like part of the family. I can't remember exactly when Sherla ceased to exist for Carrie. One day, she just wasn't there anymore. To the best of my recollection, it was about the time Carrie started school. Her imaginary friend was never so significant for me then as she is now, after my visitation from Dinahh. 

Was Sherla Carrie's spiritual guide, brought with her when she came into this world? It's an interesting question, isn't it? It's possible, even probable, that when she started school and told other children and her teacher about Sherla they made fun of her. I don't know. What I do know is, Carrie has had many spiritual whispers (intuitions and precognitions) since then, some of them I've already written about in past blogs. I think Sherla has always been with her. 

I'm basing this on what Dinahh told me on his second dream visit when I asked him, "Why are you here?" and he answered, "Catherine, I have been with you all along." 

I wouldn't be surprised at all if Sherla reappears in my adult daughter's life, this time recognized and welcomed. With the universe, everything is as it should be and comes in its own time ... 

Namaste. 

Awareness Follows Attention

by Robert Cosmar

Awareness is the ability to see with knowingness. It is pure consciousness without identification. It is the essence of what we are within.  Looking outside ourselves, from a point of conscious awareness within, we need language to explain, explore and understand existence in a physical sense. 

Mind is awareness without knowingness of reality. It is perception without the knowingness of consciousness or reality. Mind, therefore, is anti-knowingness. We do not know with the mind, we only label, analyze and arrange concepts in logical order. We try to express knowingness through language which is only a symbol of our conscious knowing, but this is not what we actually know or perceive.  The mind is a container that holds ideas, memories and unconscious content. 

When the attention is turned within through our feelings and not our thoughts, we perceive that knowingness exists. This knowingness exists beyond words and without words. It is experienced as a unity of thought and being. We realize it is the truth of our being on a level of conscious realization, well beyond the mind, and a part of something deeper and richer within.

Awareness is how we perceive reality in both the inner and outer worlds. Attention is how we choose to give direction to consciousness, so our awareness can respond with understanding. We are complete, just as we are, but the division of our attention can cause a split in awareness. This can cause great confusion.  It is only when our attention is seated deep within, and our awareness grounded in the core of our being, that we are able to understand and accept reality "as is". This is our true face, and our total being of consciousness.

Namaste.

Making A Difference

by Robert S. Cosmar

When I was growing up, there were certain movies that seemed to touch me deeply. Sometimes I would cry, and at other times, my heart would just swell within me.  It seemed the movies that affected me most involved either an underdog overcoming a bully or an evil person, or movies about Jesus touching a person's life, like in the movie, Ben Hur.  Until recently, I didn't realize why I cried.

Sitting with Cathy the last few days, we've watched a couple of movies that made me cry. One was the new Karate Kid and the other one was an older movie called Mona Lisa Smile.  Both movies were about either someone helping someone overcome a problem or realize their potential.  I came to see through these movies that most of my life, my greatest desire was either to realize my own full potential or to help others achieve theirs.  I was crying for myself and for others as well.

I have had moments in my life when I felt the hand of God, or providence, touch me and I realize then how important those moments were. There are also times when I realized that I touched peoples lives, as well, and I will always remember that feeling of "getting through to them."  

Nothing feels better then a breakthrough moment when after years, maybe, of miscommunication or misunderstanding, a person or persons finally SEE and a doorway to life is opened and you, or they, overcome an obstacle or even realize a long-held dream. You feel happy for them and grateful in your heart that you may have had a part in helping them.

Namaste.
Robert

Guest Writers

Namaste everyone!

Today I was reading all of the great comments that have been added to blog posts.  Somehow, I missed many of them and for that, I apologize.  I was thrilled to read the many interesting thoughts and insights, and some of you even wrote about experiences you've had -- I feel humbled.  I'm finding out that I have a lot to learn on my spiritual journey!

There are many of you who are very knowledgeable about awareness and I would like to extend an invitation to share what you know here in the blog, so we can all learn.  Please, consider being a guest writer for Knowing Whispers.

I'm very flexible with the subject matter -- whatever you want to write about that interests you.   I especially love reading about your experiences. I hope to hear from you soon.  I hope your week is going well -- it's really hot here in Pennsylvania!

Namaste.
CJ

The Shiny Stone

A Short Story
by Robert Cosmar

Deep within the womb of the earth, one shiny stone rested, embraced on all sides by the soil and surrounded by other stones of similar size and shape. Unable to move, they spent their time pondering the meaning of their existence and sharing all sorts of possible explanations as to why they were in the dark and how they got there.

The other stones accepted their fate and yet always complained about the cramped conditions, but Shiny, (as he was called) surprised them all with his wild conjectures and possible explanations. He would often say that someday they would be visited by strange beings from another world. Then their true purpose and worth would be explained to them. The other stones only laughed, and even the tightly wrapped soil would chuckle at the crazy things Shiny came up with.

The other stones and the soil found a certain amount of solace in the acceptance of their fate, even though deep within they felt empty and barren. You see, they had lost all hope. Time and again they had seen their dreams fail. They never got explanations as to the reason for their condition. Long ago, they decided to find their comfort amongst themselves in their despair.

They did not enjoy this despair, but it gave them something to feed on -- a reason to be, so to speak. The thought of any other explanation was too painful to even consider. Many times, the stones would talk about their anxiety in the quiet moments when they were alone and had no one but their thoughts and each other to keep them company. Their fear of loneliness was almost unbearable. Shiny could hear them weeping, at times, but never said anything to the others because he knew they were proud and too scared to admit it. So he would smile and try to help by offering more of his explanations as to their condition and how to cope with it.

It was those moments he enjoyed the most, when the group mind was gone and an individual stone would show his pain, weakness or true feelings. Shiny knew he was like them, but he also knew that they were limited by their lack of awareness. He, too, had gone through periods of fear and loneliness in the past, but he learned that within the darkness of the heart, a light existed. The darkness was only the end of one existence and a doorway to another, one that was filled with unlimited hope and the extinction of fear.

Sometimes he tried talking about this, but usually a stone would speak out in fear and the others would join in because they found comfort in their fears. Each one said Shiny's idea's were fine, but impractical, and not based upon their particular reality. The fact was, they had tremendous pride in their own thoughts. After all, they had spent many thousands of years developing them and nothing had ever occurred to change their view. They all agreed, it was good to hope, but they only hoped in what they knew from their experience -- anything else would only be a waste of time.

Shiny smiled but could say nothing at this point. He knew they would not listen, or that they could not. The thought that their proud explanations could be limiting and restrictive was not an option in his mind. After all, where would they be if they learned they were wrong?

One day, a group of stones began a heated discussion. There was concern that something was happening deep in the earth and they feared their position here was in jeopardy. Stories existed in their lore where deep earth explosions caused their kind to be scattered far into places unknown. Shiny tried to calm them, but his lack of fear agitated the others and so their anger was directed straight at him. Some said they had heard enough and they wanted him to go.

Shiney was deeply concerned because he could feel their rage. They could not kill him, but he knew they could expel him by the use of the ancient forces within the earth. He had long known that the earth was a living force, just as they were, and it was also a conscious entity.

Suddenly, there was a huge explosion from deep within the earth's crust. Hot steam and gasses began to emerge from below them. Many of the stones cried out because they feared the end was near. This was not a usual earth event and they were terrified. Volcanic eruptions were rare, but when they occurred, they melted stone and rock and even purged the soil.

Just then, a second more powerful eruption exploded from below and Shiny was caught up in the surge of energy from deep within the earth. Everywhere, things were in chaos, flying upward and outwards. Shiney hit the ground with a hard thud and rolled a long way. He did not know where he was, but he could see it was a different world. A large shining disk was way above him and it was bright and hot. It gave warmth like the earth did, but it was ever so much hotter.

He looked all around him, but his old friends were no where to be found. While he knew he was alone, he was strangely not afraid. Something within told him everything was okay and he would be just fine. Later, the shiny hot disk way above him gave way to a new and strange darkness. It was not like the darkness of the earth where he was before. This was much freer, yet it still conveyed the feeling of being alone with oneself. Shiny was left to wonder, what would happen next?

Suddenly, a creature landed right next to him. It came from somewhere up above. It was oddly shaped with a large head and a funny outer coating like he had never seen before. "Hello." Shiny said to the creature.

Startled, it cursed and yelled at Shiney, "Don't do that!"

"Do what," Shiny asked in disbelief.

"Scare me like that!" said the creature.

"I'm sorry." Shiny answered, "I was feeling alone and then I saw you here, beside me."

"Well, you will not be alone for long," the creature confided.

'Why is that?" Shiny asked, hoping.

"Some human will come by and pick you up and take you home." said the creature.

"What is a human?" Shiny asked, puzzled by this strange being.

"They are the creatures that run this planet -- or so they think." the creature told him, sarcastically.

"And what kind of creature are you?" asked Shiny.

"I am an owl, my dear fellow." said the creature. "We owls are very wise and know many things."

"I see," said Shiny, "now could you please tell me, who I am?" He asked hesitantly.

"You, my friend, are a diamond, only the most precious of stones, silly. You're one of the largest diamonds I have ever seen! Some human will find you and have you cut, polished, and placed in a ring or on a crown. That is who you are. That's where you belong, too." said the owl. "You are very valuable and should be in a place of honor."

"That's strange," said Shiny "I know you must be right, but why do I feel so uncertain?"

"It's because you still identify with the under world, the place you came from. The eruption must have tossed you out here and you are in unfamiliar surroundings. I feel certain that once you allow your "self" to accept and love the truth of your true nature, then the past will drop away and you will know who you really are." said the wise old owl as he flew back up and disappeared into the night sky.

What is Awareness?

For man, the most important thing is life, complete with an outer belief system of opinions, prejudices, educational and cultural training, and unique family backgrounds -- but all of those are only accidental factors of life. They've become necessary tools for survival and living within society -- but none of them actually define who we truly are.

When we strip away all of the easy definitions, like job, religion, sex and so on, which only narrowly define "us", who and what are we, really?  If we lose our job, will we also lose our self?  If we convert to another religion, do we, as spiritual beings, actually change?  If we have a transgender operation, do we change our self on the inside, right along with how we changed on the outside?  It may seem so, if we're overly attached to these flimsy definitions of who we are.  In spite of outside change, something always remains the same.  Since our outsides are so prone to change, then doesn't it make sense to look within—to our true self?  But what are we on the inside?  What in the world are we?

Awareness helps to answer that, although awareness is not an answer, it's  actually the biggest question of all.  See, awareness demands no belief in anything.  Instead, it insists on doubting everything we always took for granted as being true, up to now.   Awareness points out the areas of our lives where faith in our self has been silenced by the rigidity of all of our learned beliefs.  Awareness is simply paying attention to our life as it unfolds, here in this moment and in this world.  It's recognizing our true self, before the thinking, opinions, and beliefs tried to take control. By knowing our true nature, we're able to lessen, or even rid ourselves of, everything that separates us from our true experience in this lifetime as awakened souls.  As we become more intuitive (aware) within our self, with others and the world, the world and self will eventually begin to act as one, and we'll finally see there isn't a problem, except in our own thinking.

Think of it this way, awareness is like a great intuition with "home" -- the universe.  It's knowing, maybe without even knowing how you know -- but you do know.  You've finally become aware and you begin to remember where you came from before you came here and even before that.  Awareness is present when you swerve out of the way of a speeding car without even thinking. Awareness is there when you cry at a movie, because you feel the suffering of another person. Awareness is there in the flow of your thoughts when you are creating, and awareness is in the breathing that keeps you alive. Awareness never forgets about us -- it's we who have forgotten to be aware.  We only have to look within to find our awareness -- trying to find awareness or meaning from outside ourselves would be like, well, like pouring water into the ocean to make it wet.  We have only to wake up and stop sleepwalking through our reality.

Namaste.

A Friend's Gift

It has been my pleasure to meet someone who has a wonderful gift.  I won't use her name, because she is only beginning to reach out and share.  When she's ready, I will ask her to write something for Knowing Whispers.  Here was her communication with me today:

Hi Catherine,
I have been reading your blogs and feel like I'm not alone anymore. Is the male voice that speaks to me my spirit guide? Most people have said it's just my conscience, but I know the difference. The male voice started after I almost died. I hear the voice when I'm given a vision into the future. Strange huh? I am not afraid anymore and will help others when I'm given a sign.

The last time I heard the voice I was told not to let my friend be alone or he would die. I made my husband stay with him all night and told him not to leave him alone. He said he was fine and left at midnight. A neighbor found my friend dead at 12:15 am. I am having a hard time living with his death because I was told not to leave him alone.

I can't try to hear the voice or ask it to speak. What I do know is that my gift started after I saw the light and was instructed that it wasn't my time. Thank you so much for sharing your gift. Today I am even more of a believer because I have read your words...
Take care

*****************

Hello,
Thank you! I'm so happy you wrote and shared your story with me! Yours is a wonderful gift, and yes, that would be your spirit guide that speaks to you. We all have at least one and all we have to do is listen and hear them with our hearts. What you said is true, sometimes they are mistaken for a "conscience". We are never alone!

I'm so sorry to learn of your friend who passed on. Don't blame yourself. You are learning -- and yes, this was a dear lesson to learn -- but one that taught you, you truly do have the gift of clairvoyance, and maybe more gifts that you will become aware of in time. Embrace the hurt you feel, feel it throughout, let it go and then forgive yourself, okay?

Your guide's voice just comes to you and, as you said, you can't "try" to hear it, it just is. That's true for me, as well. At this time, I can talk to both of mine, although I can't always call them to come to me. There are times when I go weeks without having any contact at all. Talking with your guide may happen for you, too, as you become more comfortable. Everything is as it should be, as Dinahh so often says to me.

I will be posting more and more on my blog about the experiences I've had and those to come. Please keep in touch. I would like to continue our conversations. I am still learning, too, and we can help each other!

Your friend always,
Catherine

Namaste!

Turning Thoughts Into Things

I spoke to my guide, Micah, again.  This was surprising, because for nearly a year I didn't hear from him at all and now it's been twice within a couple of weeks.  Micah, The Dream/Vision

Micah asked whether I had spent any time thinking about what he showed me in the vision.  I told him I had thought about it, and I even wrote a blog about the vision.  Then I said, "Micah, the vision was very cryptic, and I have a lot of unanswered questions."  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.  I sensed that he, like Dinahh, would tell me to be patient because I already have all of the answers.  But that was not what he said.

Micah asked, "Catherine, what do you feel in your heart?  What did the vision say to you?"

I told him what I felt about the vision.  "Micah, the people in the vision made me feel very sad.  They seemed to be starving and needful of everything -- they had nothing at all, and I could see only a hopelessness in their faces and their sunken eyes.   They were just empty -- empty of all feeling, even empty of all hope.  When I watched them form a line in front of me, it was as if they were expecting something.  You then told me to fill their bowls from the kettle beside me.  When I did, Micah, the pot was full of words, not food."

"This is true, Catherine.  You gave them what they needed.  Go on.  What more did the vision tell you?"

"Micah, when I saw this, I wanted to know what the words said.  Where did the words come from?  Why was I the one to put the words in their bowls?  How did the words form sentences and how did the people understand what the words said?"

"Now I will tell you the same as Dinahh.  You must go to the silence and find your answers, Catherine.  You will find them there, if you will open your heart and listen.  You have come far, but you have far to go, and so much to learn, so much to remember.  Catherine, listen with your heart, not with your mind.  Your thoughts become things.  Be careful what you think."

And then Micah was gone again.

Namaste.

The Death of Fear

A Short Story
by Robert Cosmar

Sitting alone in its self-contained identity, Fear bemoaned its fate. Always alone, separate, and isolated, Fear seemed to be apart from everything. It was constantly analyzing its condition and trying to answer the question of why. Why did it exist? How had it become this way? What is going to happen to it? 

Feeding itself fully with these questions of self-doubt, Fear felt trapped and completely hopeless. It seemed that someday it would finally dissolve into total nothingness, which was something Fear agonized over more than anything in the world. 

Day by day, it seemed like there was a noose around Fear's neck growing ever tighter and tighter, choking out the very hope of any change. Finally, the question of its identity and very existence became too unbearable for Fear. It decided to let go of the questions, the ponderings and all of the speculations. Fear chose to be nothing and do nothing. Fear decided to face itself, just as it was and admit to itself that it was scared, alone, and completely lost. 

Unable to answer the question of why, Fear, humbled and stripped of all pride, waited in the aloneness for the nothing, for what seemed like forever. To it's amazement, it had not dissolved into nothingness. It had merely stopped thinking and analyzing. 

Then something wonderful began to happen. A whole other part of Fear began to assert itself and awaken. Not with thoughts of the usual nature, but with feelings. Fear began to see things there, down within itself. Understandings began to emerge explaining the ancient questions it had always wondered about. 

Finally fear began to see that all along, the only problem it ever really had was thinking that it was separate from everyone and everything else. It thought it was even separate from life, itself. Fear thought that it needed no one nor needed anything to either exist or survive. 

Fear had finally won the great battle and learned the great lesson: we are part of One Energy, One Life Force or One God. How we think is what we are and that is how we see life. We create our lives from our thoughts and we have the power to change our lives when we remember to feel. We are what we feel, but we only feel what we choose to be aware of. 

The Cell

A Short Story
by Robert S. Cosmar

The prison cell was dark and damp and Prince Challoff sat pondering the woeful meaning of his situation. For the past several years, he had sat in the dismal cell thinking about his father and wondering why he had not come to rescue him.


The prince ran away several years before, during his rebellious youth, and joined a group that opposed his father and his political policies. After the rebellion was surpressed, the angry prince was placed in this cell in a  line of prison cells containing the other conspirators, because he was still angry with his father.

Over time, due to the solitude and frequent letters from his father, the prince's whole attitude began to soften.   Gone was the righteous anger, the rebellious spirit, and his know-it-all attitude. Still, the prince was in prison and his spirit was slowly being crushed.

He could not understand why his father did not come and rescue him. The letters from his father, sent by messenger, were both forgiving and accepting of him.  It did not make sense to the prince that his father would forsake him like this.

One day, the son decided to put aside his pride, drop all of his pretenses and ask his father outright in a letter why he had not released him from this cell. He cried as he wrote the letter and he felt his heart open and the years of regret poured from his pen onto the paper.

After a few days, he received a letter from his father:

My dear beloved Son:
It seems there has been a terrible misunderstanding.   All this time, you have thought you were in prison, but the door has always been unlocked.  You were free to go at any time.  I thought you were aware of this. The guard outside of your cell is not there to keep you in the cell, but to constantly protect you from coming to any harm.  My son, you can leave whenever you choose to leave. 
Love always,
your father

The prince was stunned by his father's words.  The truth finally sank in that this misunderstanding and his own false perceptions were all that had ever kept him imprisoned.  He learned a valuable lesson that day -- never to accept anything at face value and to be more aware of his life and the circumstances surrounding him.

Things are never as bad as they seem.

The Tear

Mother's Day was just here and I can't quit thinking about Mama. Maybe it's because I was in the car with Robert both to and from Ohio, 4-1/2 hours each way, and sharing stories about Mama with him during the travel time. He suggested that I share one of the stories with you, so I will.

The Tear
A Memoir of Mama
by CJ Heck

One of the most difficult things I've ever had to deal with was being in an unhappy marriage and living far enough away from family that I had to take my daughters out of school so I could drive the distance from New England to Ohio to be with family for a few days. Of course, that was balanced by occasional visits from them to us, as well. It was hard for everyone, but I have a close family and we needed to be together, especially since Mama had been fighting cancer for many years.

[Mama as a Young Woman] 

Mama was a tiny little package -- maybe 100 pounds, fully dressed and soaking wet. She was a multi-faceted lady, having raised six children and an occasional foster child or two. She sewed beautiful clothes, could decorate like Better Homes and Gardens, loved to garden, cooked like a chef, was the original Suzie Housekeeper, and even worked as a secretary for the superintendent of schools. Her best qualities, though -- she was a caring and loving wife and mother who taught us best by her example. Oh, and you didn't want to cross her, because she was also a formidable disciplinarian -- I had my fanny warmed more than a few times!

In 1992, I had been going through a terrible two-year divorce. He had been fighting me tooth and nail and wanted me to, "Stop this nonsense and come home where you belong." I knew after twenty years that we were oil and water and it would only get worse, but he was insistent. "I'll see you on Welfare if you divorce me." That didn't happen, of course, but it wasn't for a lack of trying.

[Mama and Daddy on their Wedding Day]

Mama was my confidante, my best friend, and my sounding board. Mama also had the same gift I had and from the time I was a child, encouraged me to listen to my whispers, not to be afraid of them and, even more important, to always follow through with them ... and Mama had been fighting the cancer because all of us asked her to, even though she had been pronounced terminal.

Several years before, Mama had undergone a radical mastectomy but the cancer had spread and was in one kidney, which was eventually removed. Over the years, she had been through every kind of chemo available and had just finished the latest (and last available) cancer trial drug. With only one kidney, the drug had taken its toll and she had lapsed into a coma. The whole family was called. Everyone was there by her bedside, including relatives from as far away as Florida, Kentucky, Wyoming , and I was from New Hampshire.

The very best medical minds in the country pulled the family into a conference room. They sadly told us that her little body was shutting down. Her remaining kidney had stopped producing urine, she was in a coma and on life-support. They told us she had fought a valiant battle, but the cancer had won. They felt we should seriously talk among us about unplugging her life-support, since that is what her wishes were.

[Four Generations: Mama, Me, Carrie, Grandma]

That was a terrible moment. Daddy was still convinced he was going to bring her home. I'll never forget the look on his face as the message from the doctors sank in. He was a broken man and we all hugged him together in that claustrophobic room. We talked. It was decided, since those were her last wishes, we would have to abide by them. We would each say our good-byes to Mama alone and then after the last one came out of her room, we would all surround Mama's bed and hold hands. We would play her favorite music on a CD player, and say the Lord's Prayer while the staff unplugged the machines.

When I went in Mama's room and saw her in the bed, it felt so unreal to see what used to be such a vibrant, alive woman lying there completely helpless and comatose. I started to cry and I put my head down close to Mama's and sobbed into her pillow. After a while, I put my arm around her and whispered in her ear that I loved her with all my heart. Through my tears, I told her that it was alright for her to go. She had fought a brave fight, but I knew it was for us and I knew she was tired of fighting, and I thanked her. I said again that it was okay for her to go. I promised her, the girls and I would be fine. Then I thanked her for being my Mama, and my best friend.

Then I saw one tear. Just one single tear, and it spilled from her closed eye, ran down her cheek and melted into the soft white pillow. Mama had heard me ...

Namaste.

Micah: The Dream/Vision

I had an interesting dream last night -- or maybe it was a vision, I'm not really sure what it was. My other guide, Micah, appeared to me again, after nearly a year since his first appearance. He told me he had something he wanted me to do.

He spread his hand out in front of him and suddenly I could see hundreds of people standing and looking up at us: men, women, and children. They seemed to be very poor and they were dressed shabbily, almost like refugees. Their eyes looked sunken and empty of feeling, their faces were gaunt and they all looked hungry.

Micah then pointed to a huge kettle boiling over a fire to the right of me. He said I was to use the ladle and pour a heaping portion into each person's bowl as they came up to me in the line. When I looked up, a line had formed in front of me and it stretched out as far as I could see.

I dipped the ladle into the boiling kettle and poured a full helping into the bowl of the first man in line. I was stunned. What I had poured into the bowl wasn't a stew or soup at all, but words. Then the man nodded his thanks and walked over to a long row of tables and sat down in one of the chairs. I watched him in awe. He ate from the bowl like he was starving. It was this way with each bowl I filled and for for each person.

I glanced over at Micah and he was nodding -- and then Micah and the dream were gone. I wish he had told me more.

Namaste!

Things I Know: John Roof

The post today comes from a very good friend, John Roof. John, Robert and I have all been friends since we were children together in Coshocton, Ohio. John is an accomplished artist, poet, and writer, who lives with his wife, Betsy, in Texas.

Things I Know
by John A. Roof

I saw a turtle the other day -- it had been clipped by a car. His front right leg and shell had been badly broken and smashed, and yet he continued to cross the road. He was trying with all his might to reach the safety of the tall grass at the side of the road and looking for peace. My guess was that this would be his final resting place. I could feel his pain and his lonely death, and yet there were no tears.

I watch my tree in the evenings, as the fading sun softly strokes it with its final gift of life for this day. The evening brings to life many new voices coming together in a song of life often ignored by those in a hurry. I listen to the songs of the locusts, trying to define the words, and knowing my inability to understand them. I know they say it's a call for a mate, but then you think about this seventeen year "Brigadoon" life the locust lives -- only twenty-four hours of life once every seventeen years.

I believe this is the cry of a new born baby: it wonders what lies ahead and what sadnesses of life are in store for him. Whatever life brings its song, it is a sweet sorrow to one's soul. All the while, even the cricket is calling to you to say good night to the final light of the day.

I look forward to the new light and the new hopes of the next day. The gentle breath of wind stroking each leaf with a final caress as it continues on to another tree, then another, always looking for the perfect resting place. If this wind could be followed, will it someday return to this place, as I hope my soul will, too, someday return to its place of peace?

I watch the flight of the dragonfly in disbelief, as it turns and drops, and then climbs to new heights of unknown destinations we will never know. Its grace in the air is an invitation that beckons us to join in its endless flight. Only a free spirit can join its pursuit in search of a life known only to angels ...