GRIEF - A STORMY SEA

Hard to believe, when we first 'lose' a loved one, that they are not lost and that at the right time we'll be reunited. But the grief we feel protects us in a sense, until we can remember without the gnawing pain and can begin to live again.

While living we can be comforted by the knowledge that death will reunite us and that meanwhile there's pleasure to be had - not just in new scenes and old memories but also in our certainty that love doesn't die. It exists for all time. 

WAS IT A DREAM?

 I had a similar experience to this, back when I was 25 soon after my beloved grandmother died.

I vividly remember her asking me reproachfully "Why didn't you recognise me when I came to you this afternoon, while your friend was talking to a clairvoyant?" 

As documented elsewhere on my Facebook page some time ago, I'd accompanied my friend Yvonne when she visited a clairvoyant to clarify some issues she had. After the visit, Yvonne said the visit had helped her but there was one thing that didn't make sense.

She had no recollection of a white-haired woman such as had been described to her - whereas I, listening in as invited, had related 100% to the description but felt it couldn't be meant for me.

It was that same night, as if in a dream, that my 'Nama' came to me with her reproach. She left me in no doubt about her visit - which has reassured me during all the years since.

Have you ever experienced anything like this? 

WHO ELSE BELIEVES THIS?

 There have been a number of times in my life when a white feather has arrived, seemingly straight from the sky. And whenever this has happened I've had cause to give thanks for its timely arrival.

Having caught the feather without any effort, I've studied it in the palm of my hand and felt its effects, sensing that somehow all was well. My worries had mysteriously lifted from me and I knew that I was being protected.

Have you ever experienced this? If you have, I'd love to hear about it!

LOVE THAT TRANSCENDS DEATH

 These are just two of the Amazon reviews given to The Portrait. They might help you decide that this is your kind of story - or not, as the case may be! You can find other - much longer - reviews on Amazon's website.

WITH DEATH BEGINS LIFE

 It's exciting, isn't it, to think that with death life begins again - except in a different dimension? Our human minds are not meant to fully comprehend this concept. With limited vision here on earth, we must simply trust that our sight expands once we enter heaven.

Imagine, then, how free we'll feel after discarding our body and stepping over the threshold of eternity! There we're reunited with loved ones who preceded us and we're wrapped in the embrace of eternal love.

GONE BEYOND, BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN

The fact that most of us can't see our loved ones after they die gives rise to the belief that they have gone beyond reach. But this is an illusion brought on by the limits of our earthly vision.

Just imagine if our sight were unlimited! Then we'd have proof, instead of just promises that life doesn't end with death.

Do we really need proof, though, to know deep within our souls that death - far from being an end - is in a very real sense a new awakening?

As for the love we felt and still feel - that hasn't died. It lives on, preparing for the day we're reunited. 

END OF THE WORLD?

 Our perception of things is interesting, isn't it? These wise words from Richard Bach caused me to pause and think. Maybe they'll do the same for you.

The caterpillar has to experience a kind of death before experiencing a new life as a butterfly. Can you relate to that in respect of dying and finding a new kind of life on the 'other side'?

JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGULL GOES HOME

 Here are some profound words, written by Richard Bach, for you to consider:

'They came in the evening, then, and found Jonathan gliding peaceful and alone through his beloved sky. The two gulls that appeared at his wings were pure as starlight, and the glow from them was gentle and friendly in the high night air. But most lovely of all was the skill with which they flew, their wingtips moving a precise and constant inch from his own.

Without a word, Jonathan put them to his test, a test that no gull had ever passed. He twisted his wings, slowed to a single mile per hour above stall. The two radiant birds slowed with him, smoothly, locked in position. They knew about slow flying.

He folded his wings, rolled, and dropped in a dive to a hundred ninety miles per hour. They dropped with him, streaking down in flawless formation.

At last he turned that speed straight up into a long vertical slow-roll. They rolled with him, smiling.

He recovered to level flight and was quiet for a time before he spoke. "Very well," he said, "who are you?"

"We're from your Flock, Jonathan. We are your brothers." The words were strong and calm. "We've come to take you higher, to take you home."

"Home I have none. Flock I have none. I am Outcast. And we fly now at the peak of the Great Mountain Wind. Beyond a few hundred feet, I can lift this old body no higher." 

"But you can, Jonathan. For you have learned. One school is finished, and the time has come for another to begin."

As it had shined across him all his life, so understanding lighted that moment for Jonathan Seagull. They were right. He could fly higher, and it was time to go home.

He gave one last look across the sky, across that magnificent silver land where he had learned so much.

"I'm ready," he said at last.

And Jonathan Livingston Seagull rose with the two star-bright gulls to disappear into a perfect dark sky.'

IF YOU ONLY BELIEVE WHAT YOU SEE

 Dr Wayne W Dyer, in his little book 'Everyday Wisdom', tells us:

"If you only believe what you see, then you're limited to what's on the surface.

If you only believe what you see, why do you pay your electric bill?"

Words of wisdom indeed - and wise advice not to limit ourselves to what we can see when there's so much in our lives that's unseen, but real!

An Evocative Billie Holiday Song

 Here are some evocative words for you from a war-time Billie Holiday song:

'I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places that this heart of mine embraces all day through.

In that small cafe, the park across the way, the children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well.

I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day, in everything that's light and gay, I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you in the morning sun and when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you.'

With music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Irving Kahal, this beautiful song became a sentimental anthem for British & American soldiers serving overseas.

But the words resonate for us all, still today, don't they?

DEATH IS NOT THE END

 You've gone beyond my sight but, oh, the memories you've left behind!

We always said death wouldn't be the end - and it isn't!

I know that now because last night you stood at my bedside and said: "Nothing has changed, my love, but for the veil now between us. That's all it is and it's intangible. So simply think it gone and you'll see that I am here - just as I ever was."

 

THERE COMES A TIME

 I've long been a fan of Ella Wheeler Wilcox and, whether you're a fan or not, I think you'll relate to these profound words of hers:

'There comes a time to every mortal being, whate'er his station or his lot in life, when his sad soul yearns for the final freeing from all this jarring and unceasing strife.

There comes a time, when, having lost its savour, the salt of wealth is worthless; when the mind grows wearied with the world's capricious favour, and sighs for something that it cannot find.

There comes a time, when, though kind friends thronging about our pathway with sweet acts of grace, we feel a vast and overwhelming longing for something that we cannot name or place. 

There comes a time, when, with earth's best love by us, to feed the heart's great hunger and desire, we find not even this can satisfy us; the soul within us cries for something higher.

What greater proof need we that we inherit a life immortal in another sphere? It is the homesick longing of the spirit that cannot find its satisfaction here.'