Posts tagged Heart of God

The Last Leaving: Oneness Isn’t Just a Theory

There’s a magical quality about the Teachings of the Spiritual Heart. It’s about the perfection of timing, Spirit’s timing. John-Roger has told us that we’re never given anything by Spirit that we cannot handle. So while ALL the teachings are present in every moment of our existence, the learnings are revealed to us only as we can open our consciousness to use them for our upliftment, learning and growth. In my case after thirty-seven years of study, I am still learning and Spirit is still revealing, and if I’m lucky (stay connected) and I stay awake until I pass from this world, I will be learning right up until my last breath and beyond. And I thank my lucky stars (or should I say my good karma) that Kenny showed me the way to look forward to my own transition with joy and anticipation of the bliss that awaits me on the other side.

In all the years I have studied the teachings (more than half my life), the lessons repeat and not only have I seen them coming again and again, they also can sting a lot harder each time until it’s powerfully obvious that they can no longer be denied.

It follows then that our dying is perfectly orchestrated according to the life we have led and the teachings we have learned. Know this though, we have until that last breath to make up for eons of sleepy lifetimes and unconscious choices. I saw this when Kenny got sick. Both our lives made a bee line toward God like we’ve never experienced in this life. We had nine months to clean up our acts. For me that meant dropping ALL my judgments about how he led his life and coming into full and unconditional cooperation with the support he needed from me. For him, I saw him come into acceptance of his condition and alignment with his purpose of healing himself on every level possible and announce his mission to touch as many people’s lives as possible with his message of joy and fun. Day after day, week and month, we rushed up the levels of consciousness such that we were listening for Spirit’s direction, following it and reveling in the discoveries that only supreme sacrifice affords on a daily if not hourly basis.

John-Roger has told us in more than many seminars over the years how important it is to meditate and pray and the more we dwell upon God and his love, when we finally reach those last moments before we leave for the last time, our thoughts will be on God, and that’s where we will go, into the Heart of God. J-R encourages us to keep the mind clean, the body and the emotions also. To do everything we can to live as long and healthy as we can to complete our karma so the record will be dissolved and we go free. Where we place our consciousness there we go.

And while we are on the subject of the orchestra of angels who will be waiting for us when we leave for the last time, I’m convinced that Oneness isn’t just a theory. I still have a little trouble with time (the reality that everything’s happening right now), but I’m excited to say I have personally experienced the oneness. If I leave this world with just a glimpse of timelessness, I will be most gratified and at greater peace. But oneness is evident to me right now. I experienced it (and still do) with Kenny when we were of one mind and heart taking care of him. And I experience the oneness when I’m with someone who asked me to just listen. I experience it when I consciously activate my ministry, embracing whoever and whatever is in front of me. I heard it said in my University of Santa Monica program in Consciousness, Health and Healing, that when we utter a blessing toward another being or thing, the blessing reverberates throughout the universe as positive energy—energy that heals, energy that loves, energy that carries compassion and understanding. How remarkable is that! Thus is explained the power of prayer. And so it follows that when we utter a negative thought, the same is true. John-Roger wrote a book entitled You Can’t Afford the Luxury of a Negative Thought. One of the spiritual laws he talks about in this book is that it takes twenty-five positive actions to balance one negative action. Better get crackin’ doing and thinking good things before it’s too late to catch up!

So everything we do, think, feel, and speak affects every other thing. Kind of like Uri Geller bending spoons with the power of his mind. Kind of like when we intuit a next step and it proves to be the perfect next step. Or a medium who contacts the souls of the dead tells you something only you and your loved one could have known. Or how group peace walks actually do make a difference. And talking to plants telling them we love them can make a measurable difference in their wellbeing. How praying for one Soul sends a vibration of love to all Souls. How praying for the Soul of a person who has left this world can support their upliftment. In my own way, in my own timing, I know I will embrace more and more of Spirit’s understanding. The understanding that surpasses the mind and envelopes all space and time. One thing I know now is my gratitude is bigger than I can imagine.

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It’s All in How You Look at It, the Blessings

I asked Kenny what to write about to begin the process of ending this book and he said, “What if you were to look back on your life and your relationship with me and my illness and my death and all the learnings you are now aware of as blessings?”

This is for a later chapter, but that reminds me to mention here that I am convinced blessings reverberate throughout the universe. Can you embrace that! Isn’t that remarkable to contemplate? Same is true of negative thoughts. Throughout the ENTIRE universe! No wonder the title of one of John-Roger’s award-winning books is You Can’t Afford the Luxury of a Negative Thought.

The blessings:
As noted in the New Day Herald article earlier in this book, Kenny was as much looking for me as I was for him. Our friends thought we’d make a good match and if you believe that blessings ripple throughout all creation, then it must be true the entire universe was lined up to support the match. The blessing? We both were in the right place at the right time to do the right action—to find each other.

Our friendship grew rapidly from spending time chatting about our interests, which had proved to be similar in many ways (or so our minds construed them to be) to within a month holding hands after a sumptuous Thanksgiving Dinner. The blessing? Time stood still that month while we meandered through tales of our lives together. While we found infinite ways to drink in each other’s essence. While we filled ourselves with memories of the last encounter until we would be steeped in the next one. It was as if we had known each other since before time.

And indeed as noted earlier in this book, we assisted each other in dying at least thirty-five lifetimes prior to this one and we had been together in one way or another for at least one hundred lifetimes. It was as if we had known each other since before time!

On Leap Day 1996 at Beloved Windermere Ranch, just three months after we first held hands, Kenny proposed to me. Those three months flew by dotted by a trip to my cousins’ for Christmas where he met my family for the first time, and a New Year’s celebration at home-sweet-home and many evenings pouring over projects for which he was my volunteer at the seminary. I hadn’t said yes yet. Having been married twice before and witnessing others take their vows, and the karma that went with them, it took another two months for me to finally agree. The blessing? Patience? Or is it blindly sitting on the conveyor belt of the march toward matrimony? Perhaps the blessing is the ability to see but not see. To know on one level the lessons and blessings that were to streak through the sky like Haley’s Comet racing to earth once the legal deed was done, and on another level to unconsciously ignore the star shower as each day rolled by.

I think it was the latter—for we made our bed (carved out the karma), we lay in it (met the karma with the best each of us could give to it), and what was to come was a marriage of multidimensional awareness (oblivious to solutions in the physical but willing to slog through it on every other level) that got richer with each passing day.

The marriage vows were deep, the Traveler’s blessing was profound, our purpose on earth in this lifetime was being played out, unraveling a blow-by-blow battle of wits, habits, untruths, blind furies, and pull-no-punches protective maneuvers, while our Souls were dancing with delight that we’d found each other, that someday soon, not more than fifteen years later, it would all become crystal clear why in the first place the match was made in heaven.

Yes indeed, we would culminate this agreement to go into the Heart of God together by completely abandoning our conditioned relationship for one of unconditional loving, gratitude, selfless service, single focused, tenderness, depth of understanding and oneness. As for my multidimensional abilities, all this wonderment was rolling by like a 16mm movie projection while my body and mind did the tasks at hand to care for Kenny, and my emotions tried to negate the depth we were experiencing on other levels—I kept busy doing tasks that would push my grief away. Amazing how this happens. It is a result of damaged nerve pathways which limit the types of responses one has toward traumatic or even just any powerful experiences.

The blessing: to at the very least, know one is experiencing multidimensional awareness. And to at most, have profound gratitude to God, to the Christ, to Kenny’s Soul, to my strength and endurance to emerge from the most powerful era of my life to date, whole and acutely aware of the deep and no-turning-back learning, releasing, healing, blessings that have been and continue to be bestowed upon me.

I can truly say I am more conscious of both my strengths and my weaknesses than ever before. I can truly say the lessons are more tender than ever before, mainly because I am spending more time in my observer consciousness, watching how I respond to situations and circumstances. And in midstream, I’m more willing to try on new behaviors that I could not even imagine myself doing before.

Most profound is my willingness to come into the loving, even when there may be friction, maybe an insult here and there, maybe a jealousy coming my way or projecting out from me. In the last year I have consciously brought the loving to some challenging relationships in my life. And that loving has changed these relationships dramatically. With one of them, I no longer see the other person as trying to control me. With another, I forgive their lashing out at me for unexplainable reasons. Yet another was transformed by consciously coming into the loving whenever I felt left out or jealous. Compassion works wonders also. It’s really a special kind of loving where our consciousness moves into the oneness and understands the other person’s predicament or their response or their weakness. Our heart goes out (at it were and perhaps more than figuratively) and in that oneness we embrace who they really are, who we all really are: Spiritual Beings having a human experience.

I am blessed beyond words. My husband died, my life opened up in ways heretofore unimaginably positive. I experience more joy, fulfillment and neutrality than I could have wished for before his illness and transition. Our nine months of complete and utter devotion to his living as long as he possibly could, my complete and utter surrender to my role in his life, and the prayer that emanated from our depths paved the way for miracles of awareness and enlightenment and prepared me for the greatest awakening of my life.

Kenny even found his way into my father’s consciousness. In messages since his passing, he told me my relationship with my father was getting closer. That my dad was nearby working with me like Kenny was working with me. This opened a huge space in my heart for the loving compassion that my father deserved. Having seen mortal combat in World War II, he came back a broken man. Now they would call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Then their only tool was pity. Much like my nerve pathways were blocked, I imagine his were also. So demonstrating affection toward his daughter was probably out of the question. All these decades since he died, in my own way I have abandoned my father, much like I thought he had abandoned me when he went off to war and came back two years later unrecognizable to my two-year old self.

These realizations are blessed with healing and upliftment. I think of my father today and instead of stoic resignation of my loss, I extend affection and love and softness with an embrace of acceptance and tenderness. And I feel that coming from him wherever he is today. Here’s a piece from Kenny’s messages that reflects this part of my story:

5/20/12
Kenny can you help me contact Daddy tonight?
Sweetie Carol, he’s right here blowing you kisses on your birthday. He wants you to know you can contact him directly whenever you want to and he’s loving you and the work you did this weekend. He will care for your little one. He will show you how to love her and dissolve all the misunderstandings about your body. He will bring you healing in your dreams and open up a new way of loving yourself like never before in this lifetime. He says you are loved because you are divine and oh so precious to him. You are our sweetie Baby! Together along with Cherish, we will fill you with the loving energy of your father here and in heaven such that you are so very fulfilled. God Bless You, We Love You, Peace be Still.

The blessing: I’m still here to record these miracles. I’m still here to experience more joy and more fulfillment, and even more happiness as I move forward in my life. I’m still here to keep activating my ministry every day, keep realizing more and more of its power. And when it’s my time to leave this planet for the last time, may there be a smile on my face, Light in my eyes, and a prayer in my heart to reach up into my High Form and meet those Angels Kenny told me about who will gladly welcome my Soul into the Heart of God.

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Poem on the Nature of Loving Down Here and Up There

My dear friends,

I have so much to be grateful for. My by-weekly somatic EMDR sessions with my dear, smart, compassionate, skillful therapist, my Consciousness Health and Healing class at the University of Santa Monica, my spiritual studies over the decades through MSIA, my work at MSIA headquarter, and my own steadfast devotion to know myself as one with God, the brightness coming through from my Soul, and my dear family and friends who have unerringly stood by me not only through these last several momentous years, but throughout my quest for greater Spirit in my life. This poem came through in a USM class while responding to the prompt to access intuition through poetry. While it uses words of the world in describing the levels of consciousness here on earth as “here” and the levels of consciousness of Spirit as “there,” it is only a way to speak about how we experience loving. Really there is no here and there, but there is a continuum of which at any moment we may be aware or not. The secret is in precipitation–the prayer to bring down from Spirit that which can be manifest in this world. The last couple of phrases acknowledge this spiritual law.

Poem on the Nature of Loving Down Here and Up There

I asked for the Angel, Cherish at my back.
To help redirect me when I start to look behind me
When I see no other option but to withhold my loving
When I cannot even feel any loving.

Cherish stands tall pointing forward
Where there are no locked-in memories
Where there is only forgiveness and forgetting
Where I know I am Divine.

When I cannot see you for all the shadows of myself
I put between us
Cherish points up where we are united in the oneness
Where the Light is so bright, there are no shadows.

Down here in the magnetism of the reflected world,
I know not of High Forms or God’s Heart.
I am merely surviving the self-made war
between the you that is in me and the me that succumbed to despising us.

Here is where Cherish reigns, my Angel at the Gate
His arms envelop me in all surrounding embrace
Where indeed my High form and Your High form come into view
And together we all three travel into the Heart of God.

Such is the truth
Of why we are separate here and together there.
My darling Angel would say,
“Bring down from Heaven that which can be manifest in this world.”

And Peace and Love and Forgiveness and Tenderness and Healing
And all the Good things of the Soul shall prevail on Earth.
Baruch Bashan
The Blessings Already Are.

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Sacred Crossings: The Night Kenny Left his Body for the Last Time

In earlier chapters, I described what I dared put to paper about the night Kenny died. Today, 20-some months later, a bit of training as a hospice volunteer, and having witnessed the death of another loved one in my life, I can brave more recall, more important parts that may be valuable to you as the reader, that are certainly more available to my creative hand.

I didn’t know then that I could give him some comfort by closing his eyes during those last few hours of labored breathing when he couldn’t communicate. I didn’t realize I could continue to moisten his mouth. The hospice nurse left in kind of a hurry with no such instructions for me. I didn’t know they would leave us at such an auspicious moment.

So when Kenny took his final breath, his eyes were wide open as well as his mouth. I tried to close his eyes, but they flipped back open twice. Those incredible deep blue eyes that I so often sank into for love and comfort. That I so often admired and could see into his vulnerability, his true loving and his powerful oneness with God.

While I could cover his body and arms with the sheet, I couldn’t cover his face and I also couldn’t look at it after my attempt to close his eyes. It was too haunting to me—At that time I’d rather have remembered his eyes when they inhabited his Soul, his life here on earth.

So his body lay there while some friends gathered with me in the room. We called the mortuary, because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. They were to come in a few hours. In the meantime, we told stories, laughed and cried and waited. And everyone present, of course, took my lead and didn’t look at Kenny’s body either.

Aside from those haunting memories, I do remember something really important:

Soon John-Roger had his aide, Zeus call to ask where “the body was being taken.” I told him which mortuary and that was the end of the conversation.

Just a few days ago, Kevin and I were looking at photographs of Kenny as a young man and I found myself recounting that phone call. In a burst of recognition, as Kevin held my hand and stayed with me in his empathy and love, I went from laughing at the photo of Kenny doing some funny antic, to tears of understanding and gratitude. I realized once again how blessed we are to be under the protection of the Mystical Traveler Consciousness, that part of us that guides our way back to the Heart of God. For I knew that John-Roger’s call was about checking in on Ken’s body to see if his Soul was on its way to the proper dimension in Spirit—to help it along if needed. So many times in years gone by when J-R was counseling MSIA students in the presence of many of us, and the subject of a loved one having already passed over came up, I would hear J-R say, “I’ve got him (or her). He’s OK. He’s where he should be.” And as I listened, I would well up with tears of gratitude, and I sensed so many others witnessing the counseling, did the same. Thank God the Traveler chose us. Thank God we chose back. Thank God our loved ones, even if they are not actively studying in MSIA, just by being connected to us devotees, are protected as ones of his own.

Back to what I didn’t know, but know better now: I could have closed his eyes so they would stay moist and more comfortable. And after he passed, if they were open again, I could have laid a clean cloth over them to help them stay closed. And I could have rolled a towel under his chin to help his mouth stay closed. I could have done a lot of things to honor his body, the Temple of his Soul, for as long as three days if I wanted to (legally). I didn’t know this. I actually kept a lot of information away from myself because I didn’t want to face his dying. For as long as he was alive, even as he got weaker and weaker, day by day, in my mind he was not dying. He would not be dying until he actually took his last breath. So I didn’t ask, I didn’t read much, and what I did read I forgot immediately. The only bit of compassionate education from the particular hospice agency we were assigned came from the doctor who one night only a few days before Kenny passed, told me I could stop counting liquids in and liquids out. That I should just focus on being with Kenny. Thankfully there was that much.

Only later when I was with my cousins supporting them as Cousin Nicky was passing, did I begin to get some education that mattered from the Hospice agency assigned to them. They instructed on meds, on bathing and changing, on when it was time to say our last goodbyes and so much more. Their loving, compassionate manner made all the difference. Their loving, compassionate manner gave me a measure of what was missing from the agency assigned to Kenny and me. Thankfully we had our MSIA ministers, our Circle of Light, our incredibly service-minded housemates. We were blessed beyond measure. Remember my talking about Circle of Light minister, Diana? She recounted her experience with us as “standing in for God.” And that’s how I experienced my presence at Nicky’s side.

I am blessed to be in a position to help others, having experienced the death of my husband in such a complex way. And to have the gift of awareness that allows me to grow from the experience, to awaken the parts of me that were afraid and unwilling to see. In tenderness for the lost part of me that I am gradually finding and surrounding with love, compassion, and forgiveness.

So now in my memories, whenever I may picture those last hours of Kenny’s life, I also remember the long moment just days before he passed, when he took my face in his hands, and held his gaze on my eyes in silent communion for a very long time. The world stood waiting outside our little bubble—it could have waited forever as I soaked in the loving we shared. It shall always remain a Divine Soul-to-Soul moment when time stood still, when nothing else mattered, when his death was imminent but yet so far away.

Bringing compassionate awareness to end of life issues is one of my passions now. Thus this blog and thus the compilation of the book. Wish me well! And I send my love to all of you who over the months have devotedly supported my efforts to bring myself into a greater Light focus around death and to bring this subject, however raw the accounts, to the Light of Spirit.

P.S. Today I attended a volunteer meeting of Hospice Partners of Southern California. A woman named Olivia did a presentation on “Sacred Crossings.” She calls herself a Death Midwife and helps families create a sacred experience for themselves of caring for a loved one’s body after death. I don’t necessarily advocate her business or her methods, but the subject is certainly worth exploring ahead of time so families can make educated decisions about the disposition of their loved ones’ remains.

Please do “like” this article, make a comment, share your experiences, however you are moved to do so. Or write to me directly at carol.jones43@yahoo.com. Baruch Bashan. The blessings already are!

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My Life Partner is Gone–My Awakening Begins

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The Plane Ride Home from Houston

We had taken the doctor’s advice to leave Houston for home as soon as possible while Kenny could still fly on a commercial plane. He was extremely weak, mustering up all the strength he had each day to walk from the bed to the chair, get dressed, bathe, have meals and a visit to the clinic here and there. And of course he needed help with all of that. By this time, his entire body was riddled with melanoma; I could feel the lumps in his stick-thin arms and even see a crusty one just behind his left ear. His blood supply was dangerously low and waning every day. But my husband had the strength and endurance of a race horse, the determination of a man with a mission, and the acceptance of an ascended master. As this story progresses, you’ll see for yourself how these attributes supported his final trip home to our beloved Prana.

That Saturday, Baba arranged to have a recorded MSIA seminar right in our hotel suite. Marsha and Rosie drove all the way from Austin to be with us. They stayed the night. Thelene drove five hours from Fort Worth. And Juaquin and Yvette made it too. There we were, eight of us calling ourselves forward into the Light, sharing the depth of our prayers and our gratitude and being there in support of one Soul’s journey into the arms of God. My prayer was not only for Kenny’s healing, but for a safe and easy trip home.

On Sunday, Rosie and Marsha bought us a bunch of groceries including a good old fashioned, head-kickin’ Texas Barbeque Lunch, which Kenny devoured with glee. And since that rude and crude bucket list doctor told him he could eat and drink whatever he wanted (after all without saying, he really meant “These are your last days, Buddy,”), Kenny promptly ordered Baba to bring in some really good boos. I can’t remember what it was, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

On Monday I didn’t know how I was going to get Kenny on the plane and off. He was using a walker now and could only manage a few steps. I was consumed with grief and worry. I didn’t know how it could be done. I felt helpless. While Kenny was napping in the bedroom, I silently cried my eyes out on the couch in the living room as I made arrangements on the phone for a flight home the next day. But I also prayed. I remembered how Spirit had met us at the point of each action and filled in the gaps wherever necessary time and time again during that month in Houston. In fleeting moments of awareness, I put my trust in God, that the Omniscient and Divine would pave the way, that our trip home would be graceful and easy—through all our circumstances.

It was Tuesday now, the day we would fly. I began to pack and Esther, sent to us by Yvette and whom we hired to help care for Kenny while we were in Houston, emptied the entire refrigerator and the cupboards of our personal food supplies. Juaquin packed all the stuff he agreed to ship home for us like the juicer and the strainer and the emersion blender, and I crammed everything I could into our luggage including the new Tony Lama boots and the books and the medications, and the everything, oh and Valentine Tiger.

Valentine Tiger, Kenny and Me

Thankfully Baba would follow me to the car rental drop off, which was only blocks away from the hotel, and then he drove us straight to the airport in his car. Two porters were waiting for us, one with a wheelchair for Kenny and the other to help me with our carry-ons. They escorted us all the way to the gate and stayed with us until we were called to board.

I can’t express how dear and exciting and relieving it was to be coming home after the harrowing month in Houston, what with Kenny’s painful reaction to the medication, the overwhelming and dreaded results of the CT scan, the blood transfusions, the hospital stays, the masked knowing underlying all the busy-ness of each day that the Well of Souls would be calling Kenny’s name soon, signaling the end and the beginning of his journey home to the Heart of God.

He was wheeled right up to the door of the plane. In his shearling slippers (the only shoes that would fit his swollen feet), we slowly shuffled together to our seats at the bulkhead. Me walking backwards holding Kenny’s hands to help keep him steady and attendants standing by helpless because the aisle would only accommodate us two. Finally we reached our seats, Kenny handsome as he ever was in his Virgil Cole cowboy hat and me in my Boss of the Town 100% beaver fur hat that Kenny had commissioned especially for us by a world-renown cowboy hat maker in Canada. They were mighty fine hats indeed.

Kenny (Virgil Cole) & Carol (Boss of the Town)

Such are the blessings. The flight attendants did their best to be helpful. And so did many of the other passengers. The flight was short (whew!) and it was time to land—I say that with gratitude that Kenny’s feet could soon be elevated to relieve the swelling. As usual the captain’s voice boomed through the cabin announcing our upcoming landing. Only this time he told us we were being met by some gusty winds that would buffet the plane around a bit. Kenny held my hand as he always sensed my nervousness on take-offs and landings. And yes indeed, as we descended, the plane bounced and bobbed, swaying to and fro, and I could hear Kenny asking for the Light of the Holy Spirit to be with us and especially with the captain. And the ascended masters as well. In fact, all the masters that work with us, it was time for them to line up in support of a smooth landing. We touched down one wheel at a time and breathed a sigh of relief. Kenny was in tears of recognition and gratitude. Even now in his weakened state when it would take all his strength, fortitude, and focus to get from his seat in the plane to the wheelchair awaiting us in the jetway, he called forth the Holy Spirit and the entire MSIA ministerial body to assist in the landing.

I was struck once again by Kenny’s unwavering focus and determination.

Now it was time to retrace our steps, making our way from our seats on the plane to the wheelchair in the jetway. The attendants had called ahead to make sure porters would be waiting for us and they were. We were the last to deboard. We helped Kenny to his feet and ever so slowly and painstakingly, hands in my hands, he reached the chair, I could see he was focusing on balance—with hardly any strength left in his muscles, he now had to consciously make sure he was balanced from head to toe or else the lack of strength could knock him over. I was in awe of what I was seeing. It was not new to me, his determination. I had seen it before, but never to this extreme. In the background I heard the attendants remark, “We have a disabled man slowly deboarding the plane. It’s going to be very slow.” Dear Ross met us at baggage claim and drove us those fateful miles home. Home was in sight now. We made it home. Today is March 7, 2011, just one year and two days from the real “Coming Home to Prana Day.” And just 24 days shy of the one year anniversary of Kenny’s “Coming Home to God Day.”

As I look ahead, there may be one more article as I plan for a gathering of loved ones on March 30, the anniversary of his passing, to remember our Kenny in his vitality and wide-eyed enthusiasm for life, especially life in nature, hearing birds calling, being held close to the breast of the forest, watching a race horse full out in the straight-away, Kenny would be embracing us with his magnetic blue eyes and forever smile.

Later I am seeing an accounting of my personal healing from the trauma of my husband’s illness and subsequent death, and the many traumas I experienced throughout this life. The frozen synapses thaw out, the resiliency restores, the freedom of choice and walking the high country is within sight. The Father in Heaven holds his hands out to me, kind of like I held my hands out to Kenny, although not for balance, but ready to receive whatever I can let go of, whatever I don’t need any longer—the ancient protection of the reptilian mind (good for real physical danger but now outdated for emotional or mental challenges) is assigned its rightful job ready for only when needed instead of being revved up nonstop. The nervous system repairs, and the true protection of being present in the NOW anchors deep in my consciousness.

The rest of our story is in previous articles. I hope you are touched by the Spirit as you read, and that you look into your own consciousness once again for the places that call out to be healed. God bless you, Baruch Bashan—the Blessings Already Are.

Please feel free to comment, ask questions, and share your story in the comment field below. You can also click the box that will notify you when the next article is published. Alternatively you may contact me directly at carol.jones43@yahoo.com

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The Day a Dear Friend Helped Me Fill Out the Mortuary Forms

It was March 23, 2010, just seven days before Kenny passed into Spirit, when Kevin and I sat together in the small seminar room, the most ornate and timeless room in the house. Originally the family dining room, replete with cherubs, soldier-like figures, rams’ heads, swans, and fruits and vegetables emblazoned in every media; carved gold-gilt walnut, cast polychrome cornicing, oils on canvas, and hammered brass, this room is now appreciated by many ministers and students of the Mystical Traveler in classes and meetings.

This time, the cherubs and soldiers and all the rest watched over us as we combed through the mortuary forms indicating what I wanted done with Kenny’s “remains.” Remains? How cold and unfeeling, that word, “remains.” He was still with us! And here I was filling out forms for when he was dead.

Two weeks had passed since my beloved husband decided to go on hospice care. Some people, I hear, last quite a long time on hospice. Some even get better. But we knew Kenny’s days were numbered because he would have to stop receiving blood transfusions on hospice and without blood transfusions, he would get weaker each day until there was no more energy to breathe. And so it was, just nineteen days after his last transfusion, on March 30th, he breathed his last breath surrounded by loved ones and welcomed by a chorus of angels and family that had gone before him to usher him into the Realms of the Divine.

But there he was down the hall still receiving visitors with enthusiasm, still smiling his forever smile, and still eating his favorite foods like Hawaiian Lau Lau, Lomi Salmon, and Chicken Long Rice from the Aloha Café with Haupia for dessert. There he was, enjoying every visitor that came to share their loving. There he was basking in his morning bath, no complaints really. Oh maybe a pain when he was turned in bed or maybe the swelling in this feet hurt a bit, but I’m convinced now as I look back on the images I have held all these days, weeks, and months, that the absence of pain was measured by and due to the exquisite and palpable love and gratitude he was emanating and giving and receiving and expounding upon whenever anyone asked.

And I am meant to fill out these forms while he is living the most profound days of his life 200%? How unfair! We weren’t prepared, largely due to my resistance to the inevitable. But that’s another story—how denial serves and how it undermines the beauty and sacredness of the truth.

I couldn’t bear doing it alone, nor could I bear to be away from Kenny except to do little tasks that only took a minute or two. But this task was gargantuan. My heart and throat ached and I couldn’t stop the tears with every sentence I read and every mark I made. Dear Kevin read with me, helped me focus and poured out his love and compassion with the tone of his voice, with his clarity of mind, sitting real close with his full attention and his presence and his willingness—to just sit with me and hold while I wrote and checked boxes and barely grasped the meaning, not wanting to dwell on what happens to a body when it stops living. I can still feel enveloped in a cocoon of caring, the kind of caring that really works—to ease the burden, to console the tears, to hold all of me, all levels of consciousness in the love of the Spiritual Heart. Try as I might throughout all these blog posts to describe the wondrous moments when I was truly aware of the presence of Spirit, I can only hope these word pictures touch you enough to reach your heart and give you a sense of their power, their sweetness, their unpredictable magnitude.

And here we are, another day in a life when one of us has met his last day in the glory that God prepares for us. Through my words, my pioneer tracker husband is still showing those of us reaching the age when we contemplate our own mortality more seriously—that we can leave this world with the truth on our lips and in our hearts, knowing we are one with God and welcoming the ascension to which we are all heir—into the Heart of God.

God bless you and remember to prepare those papers ahead of time so it’s all taken care of when the time comes that one of you will lift off before the other.

Love for you to respond. Tell your story. I’ve had several people share deeply and that’s why I’m writing—to give us all a chance to utter the truth about death and dying, no matter what that is. Please respond by writing in the comment field or writing directly to me at carol.jones43@yahoo.com. I’ll do my best to respond to all.

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