Tag Archive: Fear


Experience

Experience (Photo credit: djniks)

When someone else speaks their truth and it hurts or makes me furious, I find it is time to go be alone.  It is best not to react in front of that person, but to get by myself and then vent my feelings.  After venting, I need to ask myself what I can learn from this experience.  I can always learn something.  God does not send me experiences, especially painful ones, unless I can learn from them.  Sometimes the experience is only a marker to show me how much I have grown so that I can practice gratitude for prior lessons.  Sometimes it is a warning to show me what could happen if I make certain choices in life.  Sometimes, and I find these lessons the hardest, it is a mirror to show me something about myself of which I may not even be aware, which really wounds or infuriates me when I am on the receiving end.  By being willing to look in this mirror, I will receive the most beneficial instruction because I can truly see where I need to grow the most.

Log jam in Craighall. An old dead tree has cre...

Log jam in Craighall. An old dead tree has created a natural log jam on the Craighall burn. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

These insights are my greatest life opportunities.  I can choose to humbly accept them and work out a plan to improve myself or I can hide from them in fear.  But letting fear win only hides these problems from myself.  They remain glaringly obvious to everyone around me.  I am finding it is far better to admit my issues and move forward than to hide from them and stagnate.  Stagnation works like a log-jam.  Everything builds up behind it until even the water cannot flow.  It will eventually become a dam in my life, preventing anything from flowing forward or backward.  Since a characteristic of life is change, building a dam is a form of spiritual death.

The good news is all death is but the changing point, not the ending point.  The bad news is it is possible to get side-tracked or lost in a change-point for a long time.  When something stagnates for long enough, it begins to rot and stink.  When we stagnate, our lives begin to rot and stink.  We become polluted, sick, dying.

Clearing the jam is the only way to renew ourselves.  Fortunately, many have paved the way through this dam before us and we can walk in their footsteps.  We are never alone on our journey.  While each path is individual, all paths are made of experiences we share in common with our fellow humanity.  There is no single way to clear this jam.  It is up to each of us to find our own best way that works for us.   I have heard some say we need to confront the past.  Some say going over the past just reinforces it.  I think it depends on the person and the issues.  Whatever gets you moving forward, free of burdens, is right for you.   I have struggled a long time with this issue personally and have found, for me, it is usually a matter of learning to love myself more.  The more I love myself, the more I seem able to inherently make the right decisions for myself and the more free I become of the past.  The more I love myself now; the less the past matters.  The more I love myself; the higher my self-esteem.  The higher my self-esteem; the easier it is to examine myself for things I may want to change, or release comments that might hurt me or make me angry because I have examined them and determined they just don’t apply.  When that happens, my next question is am I sending signals I don’t want to send or is this person’s judgement just way off-base in this circumstance?  Loving myself helps me realize that it isn’t always me!  It also helps me forgive someone else when they are wrong.  Including myself.  So, how do I learn to truly love myself?

That, my friends, is another post.  But first I would really like to hear from you.  How do you build a loving relationship with yourself?  I am looking forward to reading all of your responses!

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There are days when I so miss my mother, my sweet, sweet brother, Scottie, my nephew, Jimmy, my grandmothers and grandpas, my dear friends and my soulmate, my two precious babies that have crossed the veil.  I was ten years old when I attended my first funeral.    I still remember the kick I felt deep in my gut when I saw my Grandpa laying in his casket.  That was the moment true fear of loss gripped me.  From then on I knew that everyone I loved could be ripped from me with no warning.  I never really feared death for myself.  But oh, how I dreaded and trembled at those heart-wrenching losses.   After that, death seemed to hound me.  Both grandfathers and my dad’s only sister passed away all in the same spring.  Then my dad’s mother, my great-grandmother, my brother, my soulmate, my first baby, my old boyfriend, my mom’s mother, my youngest child’s twin, my surrogate father, my nephew, my dear friend, Kay, my mother, and my best friend from college.  Others I knew had passed in between these major losses, including a six-year-old boy whose funeral tore everyone up.  The grief just seemed to compound, never really healing.  Just a wound that reopened and grew deeper with each successive loss.  Pretty soon it seemed I had more loved ones in the cemetery than in the world with me.

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I do not know how others handle multiple losses.  The truth is I wasn’t really handling them.  My weight spiraled to a top known weight of 380 pounds on my 5’2″, small-boned frame.  Depressed, anxious, ill, confined to a wheelchair and a hospital bed.  I was certain I would soon die too.  It is really only in the past year that I have made my peace with death–learned to embrace it and not fear it.  I have been a christian as long as I can remember,  having accepted Christ at a very young age.  I have always been drawn to spiritual things.  But it wasn’t until my mother passed in 2006, that I began to explore further than the teachings of my local church.  I began to study the Qabalah, the third book of Moses.  My studies expanded to metaphysics, eastern religions and eastern medical practices.  I even delved into subjects like spiritualism, reincarnation–anything, really, that dealt with the Spirit.  Maybe I was trying to find some connection to all I felt I had lost.  I knew there were times I sensed my brother’s and my mother’s presences around me quite distinctly.  Was I imagining things?  Was it wishful thinking?  Was I going crazy?

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But when I think of how grateful I am to have known them, loved them, been loved by them; I am overwhelmed with the goodness of God. I celebrate these fine saints who served mankind well. I celebrate their spirits, their lives here and hereafter. I celebrate the future when I will not part with them again, but will spend eternity as one. And I celebrate those precious moments when I sense them here with me still. I am swallowed by memories that live so brightly in my soul, for a brief chance of time I am transported across years and the boundaries of death to live with them again. I feel their energy surround me, sense their touch, their smell, the sound of them until I can almost see them before me. And that veil becomes so thin it is almost transparent and I know. I know. Eternity waits for me full of more love than I can comprehend because love never dies. It waits for me on the other side.

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I spent a four- month vigil at my mother’s bedside, never leaving her day or night, watching as she faded from this world into the next.  It was an awful, most precious, holy, yet heartbreaking communion with her and God.    Yet there was a sweetness to each moment we stole from death.  We had all fallen asleep the night she passed, on the couch, on the floor, and in a chair by her bed.  I startled awake looking immediately to her bed where a nurse bent over her with a stethoscope.  She had just taken her last breath.  What was it that awakened me?  What awakened my brother just seconds after me?  I believe it was the spiritual being of our beloved mother, pausing to kiss us each goodbye before winging her way to heaven.  I remember leaning down the day before and whispering into my mother’s ear, “Do you see him, Mama?  Can you see your boy in his red sweatsuit?  I am sure he’ll be right next to Jesus!”  And I watched in amazement as her eyes panned back and forth behind her closed eyelids, searching some plane I could neither see nor to which I could  go.

Today, as I was walking through the surf  on the beach, I was reflecting on the sheer exhultant joy I feel to be up, walking, free of the wheelchair in which I sat for seven years.  What effervescent euphoria this freedom is!  The icy tide rolled over my feet as my toes pressed into the sand, the sensations welcomed by me to the depths of my soul.  I felt the same as I did when I was 16 and my parents handed me the car keys for my first solo drive.  Freedom!  I am free of that broken body that had held me prisoner all those years.  That is when it hit me.  This must be what death feels like.  Free at last from an earthly vessel that holds us back, we must fly heavenward in sheer joy at being set loose.  Suddenly, death changed for me.  It is not a losing, but a winning.  My mother must have soared to be unchained from a body that was so sick.  Her light shining full-beam, undimmed by flesh, unfettered by time or earth.   Stopping to kiss each of us, did she do cartwheels in the sky, zooming over like a shooting star?  As I watched the seagulls dance in the waves, I could see my loved ones dancing on the light-waves of energy eminating from their beings.  What a party must be going on next door!

English: Aurora Borealis (1865), painted by Fr...

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Do not fear to lose your loved ones; they are always with you.  Do not fear for them; they wing their way across the heavens, liberated from bondage.  Darting to and fro with the frolick of a child splashing in a puddle of  water, they must course through time and space with a freedom for which our own souls must somehow long like some dimly half-remembered, fantastic dream.  And they fly through the love of every soul who has ever drawn breath, basking in the warmth and light, multiplying it with their own, and waiting joyously for the arrival of the hour of our change.  Death is not separation.  Death is union.  Death is not loss.  Death is love.  Death is not the end.  It is a new beginning.  It is the answer to every prayer every person has prayed since the dawn of time.  Death is true life in disguise.

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