Living and Loving
Sacred Stories
A couple weeks after her husband’s passing, he received a big postcard inviting him to a free lunch, along with a guest, at one of their favorite restaurants.
The only obligation was to listen to their presentation on cremation.
Her girlfriend said he would want her to go, but tell them they just missed him!
Years ago I worked in a department store that had a pretty large jewelry section. Every time there was a chain with knots (and there were always chains with knots) I was the one who was given the job of de-tangling. I became really good at it.
I am doing that right now as I am looking at the threads of events that have brought me here now.
Many more threads were raveling before the one on which I was riding my bike and noticed a garage sale with a double sink. I rode right on by. I did not need a double sink.
The following day the sink was by the side of the road with a sign on it: FREE.
The sign said it was a great sink, that they had just remodeled.
I rode my bike home and then drove my van back to get the sink. I thought it might be able to be cut in half. If not, I would just take it to our local Habit for Humanity ReStore where they sell donated home goods and use the funds to finance home builds.
The good news is the sink was able to be cut in half, and my neighbor said he wanted the other half. Woohoo!
So during the installation process, the removal of the old countertop and sink resulted in a snapped hose fitting, and a cracked water pipe under our mobile home. Not only did the bathroom floor get flooded, but the underneath of our mobile home is wet now too.
Have you been following my summer of mold????
My center of peace was shut as quickly and as tight as our water main….
I grabbed the only deck of cards handy on the counter in my office. Osho Transformational Tarot. The card I drew was #53-Play.
Play??? You’ve got to be kidding. How could that fit?
When I got to this line, my pulse began to slow. “The result of your activity is in the hands of the Divine, you simply do.”
Mind you, this is all unfolding right at this moment as my fingers are on the keyboard generating this post.
I thought the mold remediation mayhem had all been taken in stride, but the residual fear flared sky high with this plumbing predicament.
But the context of these words of advice in the Osho Tarot was unique: war.
War is the most serious affair. You cannot be playful about it, because lives are involved, millions of lives are involved—you cannot be playful.
And Krishna insists that even there you have to be playful.
You don’t think about what will happen in the end, you just be here and now. You just be a warrior, playing.
Don’t get worried about the result because the result is in the hands of the Divine.
And it is not even the point if the result is in the hands of the Divine or not—the point is that it should not be in your hands, you should not carry it. If you carry it then your life cannot become meditative.
I think I am going to make this my new mantra…. the result is in the hands of the Divine.
Sacred Stories
Her Godmother, who was like a sister to her mother, was visiting. They all met at a restaurant for dinner.
She brought some pictures and things of her mother’s that she wanted to ask about and discuss with her Godmother. They laughed and joked—sharing a really nice time.
In the middle of the conversation her Godmother asked, “Do you think she is here with us?”
“Yes,” she answered, and they both got a little teary-eyed.
When they had finished dinner, the others had to go to the bathroom, so she and her Godmother stood by the stairs waiting right inside the restaurant.
She looked down and saw a pine cone.
This pine cone was like the ones in the mountains—her mother’s ashes were taken into the mountains. Her mother loved nature and the outdoors. When she was a girl and they didn’t have a lot of money sometimes they would go out and pick up pine cones and take glue and glitter and decorate them….
She said, “I think that she was there with us. Why would there be a pine cone there right as we stood waiting? It wasn’t there before. We looked around and there was no display or anything that even came near to a pine cone.”
This pine cone was a sign. For certain!
These are sacred stories. You are always invited to share.
Sacred Stories
Her mom had been taken to ER the evening before. The following afternoon, they finally got her transferred to a room.
They were waiting for a cardiologist to see her mom.
Following a heart attack, her mom had worked with a cardiologist 20 years earlier. Doctor Silverman and her mom became close over the years, until a couple years ago when he no longer had to see her. Dr. Silverman was always inspired by her mom.
Her mom was really hoping that somehow he would be the one on call but they were at a HUGE Medical Center and the chances were minimal.
She had tried to ask nurses in the ER, but the ER was super busy. No one got around to talking to her about her mom’s preference.
She and her husband were walking through the halls while her mom was being wheeled on a cart to her room. She overheard her mom say, “That was Dr. Silverman.”
Dr. Silverman was talking on the phone when he passed them, but he had heard his name and he came back. He asked her who the patient was that had spoken his name.
Even though it had been several years, Dr. Silverman recognized her mom’s name right away.
She explained that her mom was really hoping Dr. Silverman could be the cardiologist to see her.
Dr. Silverman said, “I will do my best!”
Miraculous!!!
Sacred Stories
For years her husband had hosted Wednesday night jam sessions in their home, but that was the night she was out-of-town.
She had come to so enjoy the Friday afternoon jam sessions all winter while they were in Florida.
Early the morning of their last jam before they headed North, she had the thought, “I am going to miss the music.”
Later that morning, as her husband came into the kitchen for his coffee, he said, “I am going to see if we can move music to Thursday nights so you can be there.”
One morning I photographed an amazing web wet with the morning dew. Later that evening, I mentioned the web while at dinner with friends. My one friend grimaced, said she hated spiders, and since dinner was in the home of our mutual friend, who was also desirous for our dear friend’s fears to be gone, I launched into the process of doing a Fast Phobia Cure. The process ended with a significant statement by my friend, “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to spend my evening feeling anxious. I want to enjoy our time together.”
“Nature’s Ways” is the name of my October Beyond Mastery Newsletter article, and it extols the skills of spiders as metaphor for life. I also have a previously post about spider’s and karma, so I won’t go into that now. But I have been reflecting this week on my desire to help my friend overcome the phobia of spiders.
Oops…. I made a mistake. I wanted something she did not want. It was not respectful to push. We often walk the tangled web of desiring for another something the other is not desirous of. The following morning, I wrote this poem:
Remembrance
Dew wet the grass
then the rains came
will the sun come again?
This dance of despair
familiar like an old pair of shoes
but far from pleasant!
One more time
I recall that you may not remember
the years of faithful tending.
Tending the garden
removing weeds of sorrow
so buds could grow again.
Pulling the deep roots
of delusion
exposing healthy bulbs below.
New sprouts of hopefulness
peeking out from the soil
rich, pungent, ready for life.
Once I was caught in the underbrush
too fearful to let go
yet not willing to open to the light.
Like a seed
fear must be buried
before reemerging transformed.
Perhaps I can remember
for you too
as new life comes into view.
09-03-2019
Tangled webs are woven of fear. My feelings of sadness hanging in the air were tangled webs. My feelings of remorse were more tangled webs. My mulling over and over thinking and wishing things could have or should have been different—tangled webs.
On June 17, 1999, I wrote An Ode to Letting Go.
An Ode to Letting Go
I will not look back at our time together and see it all as bad. I will have the courage to call it all good – our coming together and our coming apart. I will honor your memory by remembering the growth that our relationship inspired. I will not insult either of us by insisting that it could have, should have, or would have been different. It was as it was. I will use this experience to affirm the beliefs I wish to guide my life by; All things work together for good. You are free. I am free. Be with your life lightly as I am with my own. Take not from here a false belief that you or I are less than what you are: a child of the universe, whole, holy, and loveable. Be tender with yourself as you make this adjustment, just as you would be tender with a body part as it heals. Look into the mirror often and recall the truth – I once loved you deeply. Though the feelings have waned as the moon – your worthiness (as my own) has neither diminished nor dissipated. I will always honor your memory. I will always cherish your soul. Go in peace. Live, grow, heal, and continue on your journey. For this time of our being together has ended but the ties that bind our hearts in love continue – even as the love at the center of all of life continues to hold us and guide us and heal us. Amen.
I cannot even recall now what the 1999 trigger for this writing was, but today, I know that what I am letting go is the weaving of tangled webs….
Sacred Stories
Driving back from visiting her husband in the Alzheimer’s facility, she was telling his daughter the story of having drawn ‘A Father’s Love’ Messenger Card the previous month following her surgery. (See previous post: A Father’s Love)
They were just about home when the story was finished. “Did the medicine container ever show up?” his daughter inquired.
“Nope,” she replied.
As they pulled into the driveway, she reached down to the shelf below the console to get the garage door opener.
Instead of the opener, she pulled out the medicine container!
They were both were speechless with mouths and eyes gaping open.
A father’s love truly is one of the strongest bonds any of us will ever experience….
It has been a very full week. Early Tuesday morning I met my sister and brother-in-love at the hospital. She was having an angiogram, with the possibility of angioplasty or a stent, if necessary. After she was prepped for the procedure, we were able to sit with her as she waited. She mentioned that her acupuncturist, our close personal friend, had called the previous evening saying she was shocked to hear about the procedure. I looked at my sister and said, “There is your confirmation. Your heart is fine. If anything had been wrong, Leah would have known.”
It was barely an hour later when the doctor shared the good news with us, “There was no blockage, and her heart is fine.”
Later that day, I sat with a friend who’s adult son died in his sleep from an epileptic seizure last year. We used a process called Induced After Death Communication. I am not formally trained in his procedure, but IADC® Therapy was developed by Dr. Allan L. Botkin, Psy.D. It helps people find peace following the death of a loved one.
You are to imagine having a conversation, or, as we did on Monday, you can write a letter to your loved one and let your loved one write back.
This mother said she felt so much lighter afterwards.
One of the women in our ongoing Grief Journey Group mentioned Mike Dooley’s book, The Top Ten Things Dead People Want to Tell You.
The number one thing is this: I am not dead.
Most people who do the Induced After Death Communication process believe their experiential reconnection is real, but Botkin says they do not have to believe in the authenticity of the experience to benefit from its profound healing effects.
When I ask people to share with me anything that might be an evidence of communication from their loved one, most easily identify multiple experiences, even while continuing to hold a belief that what they know they experienced cannot be possible.
It is vital to notice when your experience transcends your beliefs. Our beliefs can be like clouds that block the sun. The clouds don’t affect the sun, but they certainly affect our experience of it.
It is safe to soften, or even release our beliefs so we can acknowledge and honor our experiences.
Matt Kahn expresses it this way, “Having spent the majority of my adult life being divinely guided by the presence of my angels, I wanted to share everything the angels have taught me, while aligning your energy field into greater communion and communication with the angels you may or may not know are always with you. I can tell you first hand, in looking back on my life’s journey, if it weren’t for my angels’ love, guidance, patience, and inspiration, I don’t know that I would still be here to serve you and all members of our Love Revolution.”
For several years I have been publishing a Sacred Story every Saturday morning, stories dealing with angels or the connection of persons with their loved ones who have passed. Because many of the readers of this blog also receive these sacred stories, I will not include the entire post here. I do encourage you to read Annabelle’s Own, if you have not already done so, but here is the happy ending:
I was so surprised and pleased to get that gift card, but was even more taken aback when I read it. Ann had donated the gift certificate because of my Mom and had written in the From space of the card: Annabelle & Carol Brannan (my Mom).
It truly was a gift from my Mom – aligning everything to get me there and draw that card. What a fun and memorable night! And it was the sign I’ve been needing, to know that my Mom is okay and watching over me every single day!
Here is another of my favorite Sacred Stories, posted May 9, 2015.
There’s An Angel for Everything
She had recently relocated to Florida, and her son and family had already moved there, too. Her adult daughter so wanted to come join the family, but she was having a challenge finding an appropriate rental home (within her budget and one that would take pets!).
After weeks of searching, on a particularly frustrating morning with no success, she threw her hands up, saying out loud, “I am going for a walk. If there is a real estate angel who can work on this while I am gone, I would be very grateful.”
Nearing the end of her walk, and very nearly back home, she struck up a conversation about Florida plantings with a man who was working out in the yard. One comment led to another and she confessed her frustrating morning and her need for a house for her daughter. The man said, “I am here working today getting ready to put this house up for rent.”
The house was charming, the rent was in their budget, and the owner welcomed pets. That house has been her daughter’s home for many years now.
She titled this wonderful story, “There’s An Angel for Everything!”
Just before I received the email message containing the story about “Annabelle’s Own”, I had the thought, “I need to stop scheduling the Sacred Stories for Saturday’s only and just publish the stories as they come to me.”
Perhaps I was being divinely guided by the presence of my angels….
Perhaps we all are….
Sacred Stories
The following story was submitted by a reader. When I asked her if she wanted the names to be used or changed, she responded, “Leave the names the same. I want people to lift up my Mom’s spirit!”
Sometimes I don’t catch subtlety, my Mom (who passed away 5 months ago) knows this.
I don’t think she was very subtle one night letting me know that she is watching over me.
My Mom was on the Board for Art Reach (a non-profit in Mt. Pleasant, MI) for more than a decade. I accompanied my Mom to many Art Reach fundraiser auctions throughout the years. After soliciting for some donations for her and knowing how much I enjoyed the event, the Executive Director offered me 2 tickets to the mid-week event. I thought about it for a while and told myself that if Mom’s best friend, Val, could go with me, then I’ll drive over 2 hours each way on a Wednesday night for the event.
Val spends most of the warm months at her cottage up north, so it was a long shot. Well, not only was Val in Mt Pleasant for the event, it was on her birthday! So I drove to and from Mt. Pleasant to attend the Art Reach Auction.
While there I did not bid on many items so I decided to try my hand at the Gift Card Pull. This is where random gift cards are all put in similar envelopes (all same size, just different colors) and you pay to pick an envelope and get the gift that’s inside. I assumed that most of the gift cards were for local establishments, but I could get lucky with a Meijers or something. Otherwise Val or my brother (who works in the area) would be getting the gift card – the donation is going to a good cause.
Out of 100 random gift card options, I selected the gift certificate from Annabelle’s Own, a locally owned restaurant in Midland, MI that has great, homemade food and happens to have been my Mom’s favorite restaurant!
I was so surprised and pleased to get that gift card, but was even more taken aback when I read it. Ann had donated the gift certificate because of my Mom and had written in the From space of the card: Annabelle & Carol Brannan (my Mom).
It truly was a gift from my Mom – aligning everything to get me there and draw that card. What a fun and memorable night! And it was the sign I’ve been needing, to know that my Mom is okay and watching over me every single day!
(Interestingly, earlier in the day I had decided to switch from weekly postings, to posting as the stories come forth. This is your first immediate post. Keep those Sacred Stories coming!)
Sacred Stories
She had just come home from the hospital following a knee replacement. Her daughter was staying with her.
She noticed her pill container for that day (Wednesday) was missing. She knew she had not taken any medication to the hospital with her.
They looked everywhere. Not finding the missing Wednesday container, she decided to draw a card.
She drew “A Father’s Love.”
They shuffled the cards and her daughter drew a card. It was “A Father’s Love” again!
“Okay, Dad,” she said, knowing her dad was supporting them both.
When her daughter also drew a card for ‘herself’ she drew “Caregiver.”
A father’s love is one of the strongest bonds any of us will ever experience…. Also true about a Grandfather’s love.
Please share the Sacred Stories you experience with friends, family, and anyone who will listen.