Open Circle

      Since early this year, I have been lacking inspiration to write, and for the past couple of weeks, experienced increasing anxiety regarding the upcoming 6th anniversary of my son's death. A few days ago, I realized that in order to bolster my link with the metaphysical realm, I needed to attend an Open Circle, something I had not done for well over a year. And so, I did.

     Seven of us, including the facilitator, began with a healing meditation - for the group, for friends and acquaintances, for the entire planet. This was followed by a lengthy guided visualization, and concluded with mediumship and sharing messages for each other. 

     To see and feel Michael's presence during my visualization was a huge source of comfort and support. He presented as his 25-year-old self, and was so "alive" with enthusiasm, smiling and emanating immense joy. It was obvious that he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. During our time together, it felt like a case of role reversal -  as if I were the child and he the parent, showing me the way. Later, when it came time to share our experiences with the group, I learned that he even showed up in someone else's visualization. 

     At the end of the evening, there were several wonderful messages for me from other circle participants, all of which served to strengthen the relationship with my son.

    Along with a renewed desire to write, those inspiring three hours of deep spiritual connection with Michael resulted in relieving some of my anxiety and filling my being with joy and contentment. So glad I followed through on my intuition to attend - a powerful evening with lasting impact.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Coming Up on Five Years

     Considering that it is coming up on five years without him, some people may be surprised to know that I do not fully comprehend the fact that my son is dead. Despite my lifelong belief in everlasting spirit, and numerous personal experiences of connecting to the invisible, I still shake my head in confusion. It is not about denial, nor a reluctance to access my emotions. And it is certainly not due to an unwillingness to understand. What I put it down to is the very real possibility that a mother can never fully make sense of the death of her child.
     I suspect that our brains are not hardwired for this scenario, nor is an after-market add on available either. Job loss, ill health, end of a significant relationship, death of a parent or friend - I believe that for the most part, we are programmed with the capacity to process these life events. But the death of ones child? How is it possible to reconcile giving birth to this precious being, then day in and day out fully invest oneself in his growth, only to be asked to live without his physical presence years later. I would venture to say that being able to fully comprehend the death of ones child is likely impossible.
     Of course, whether I fully understand it or not hardly affects the journey of living with this loss. Every day, every single day, it simply comes down to focussing on joy, love and gratitude as much as possible.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Miracle Log

     Serendipity, coincidence, happy chance event... words used to describe the small miracles that make our lives a little sweeter. Lucky for me, I experience them almost daily. Having a dream about a person I had not thought about for years, only to have someone else mention that same person the next morning. Looking for a small box of goofy sunglasses everywhere I thought it might be, then finding it later that day, within in a larger box marked 'small picture frames' which I had opened for an unrelated project of creating a photo wall. Receiving tickets, out of the blue, to a sold out event I had wanted to attend.

     One way to to help foster this awareness in children is to keep a Miracle Log available. I came across this idea while reading Spirit Games, a book by Barbara Sher. Whenever something serendipitous occurs, anyone in the family can log in by writing down what happened. It can also include the wish that preceded the event, if there was one. There seems to be a snowball affect - the more often these little miracles are noticed, the more often they appear. Keeping track of them can help bring children comfort and joy, and heaven knows, we all thrive when showered with frequent doses of both.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Modifying Traditions

The early snowfall last weekend prompted me to begin decorating for Christmas much earlier than usual. My enthusiasm was also spurred on by my husband and I stumbling upon a mom and pop shop carrying an eclectic mix of items, including a stunning, vintage aluminum tree. It was born in the 50s, as was our home, and the two of us. This shiny tree now adorns our living room, perfectly. If I were a betting person, I would have lost big time - I never, ever imagined I'd have an artificial tree, never mind one made of aluminum!  Growing up, my family would purchase our tree the day before Christmas, then decorate it with real candles during the afternoon, for our German Christmas Eve celebration that night. Later on, with my own children, our tree would be trimmed with white lights a week before Christmas. This year, our new-to-us tree has no lights at all, and was fully decorated on the first of December. Modifying our traditions: details of how we experience this holiday season change over time, but celebrating the overall joy of it remains.

The Weather Gods Come Out to Play

Today, we awoke to a beautiful fall morning - cool and sunny, with a few clouds thrown in for added interest.  My husband had planned on spending the bulk of this day prepping for a dinner party we are hosting this evening, but when I returned from my run in the canyon, he was up the ladder installing the outdoor Christmas lights.  I joked that this was a first - he normally waits til it's cold and sleeting to do this job.  He replied that he had decided to take advantage of the great weather and asked if I could help.  While holding the strands of lights for him, I looked up to the sky and saw two magnificent eagles flying overhead - they were out enjoying this perfect fall day as well.  A minute later, I felt a light drizzle, even though there was blue sky above us. That drizzle soon turned to hail, along with a noticeable drop in temperature. I burst out laughing - there was no mention of hail in today's weather forecast.  It seemed that the weather gods were playing a joke on us.  Within five minutes, the silliness had stopped and the sun was out, once again. Unexpected moments of joy - they're the best.

Courageous Choice

The concept of courage has presented itself numerous times over these past few days - shown to me in a meditation, discussed while walking with a friend, and presented as a online forum topic.  For those who make the conscious choice to continue embracing life, despite having challenging experiences thrown in our path, courage is what we draw on in order to keep angling our souls towards the light, rather than retreating into darkness.  In the face of ongoing pain or grief, making the daily choice to find joy and gratitude is an act of courage, requiring an enormous output of energy.  The return on that investment is the gift of a life worth living.

I Still Call Bullshit

This morning, while placing flowers at the memorial plaque engraved with my son's birth and death dates, the voice in my head is still calling bullshit.  On a soul level, I understand Michael's passing, however, as his mother, I doubt if it will ever make sense.  The accident happened two and a half years ago today.  It might as well be two and a half months ago, since time has done little, if anything, to alter my day-to-day reality with respect to this intense loss.  How could it?  He is gone. He will never again give me a hug, never again call me on the phone, never again sit down to a family meal.  Regardless of what is happening in my day, experiencing joy or sadness or anything in-between, this companion called grief is with me, always.  I would not have anticipated this is how it would be, but as with any profound life experience, you don't know until you are in it.

Cartwheels ... Just Because

While walking along the seawall, I noticed a young bikini-clad woman performing a cartwheel on the beach.  This reminded me of an old photo taken at another local beach where my toddler daughter is cartwheeling naked on the sand.  A simple pleasure, done ... just because.  I got to thinking - when had I last executed a cartwheel?  How old was I?  Most likely in my twenties, three decades ago.  Where was I and who was I with?  What if on that day, someone had said, "Vera, this is the last time you will experience the joy of doing a cartwheel." Would I have laughed at the absurdity of that statement?  Would I have thought the person crazy?  Would I have then made a conscious effort to continue incorporating cartwheels into my life?  As I continued walking, I decided that another cartwheel was long overdue.  Arriving home, I placed my hands firmly on the grass, then swung my legs up and over.  It was not very graceful but it was a cartwheel nonetheless.  I am sure that my granddaughter will happily practise with me.

Exquisite Experience

One of my daughters recently sent me a photo of a hummingbird perched on her shoe.  Yes, her shoe.  When we spoke the following day, she filled me in.  Since then, I have thought about her incredible story daily.  She and her husband were up at their cabin when suddenly, a hummingbird flew in through the open sliding door, way up into the vaulted ceiling.  Flying around up there, it came into contact with dust and cobwebs, before eventually returning to ground level, coming to rest upon one of my daughter's unoccupied shoes.  Moments later, her husband carried that shoe with the bird out to the deck.  Surprisingly, the hummingbird went along for the ride.  That was the image captured in the picture.  However, the truly amazing part of the story was yet to come.  While the bird remained on the shoe, my daughter reached over and with her fingers carefully began removing one tiny particle of debris at a time.  The hummingbird stayed put.  After the cleaning, it lingered for another few minutes, then off it flew.  When my daughter described this scene to me, I was astonished.  I have had many close encounters with hummingbirds, those messengers of healing, love, hope and joy, but I have never even heard of anything like this.  Feeling its heartbeat and being in such close proximity to those brilliant iridescent feathers - I can only imagine.  I continue to marvel at what is possible. 

Smiling Faces

We could not have asked for more perfect weather for the year's first visit to the cabin -  just shy of midway through spring, we enjoyed a taste of summer.  My husband and I appreciated the three glorious days of bathing suit weather and meals on the beach.  A lovely mix of outdoor work and play - attending opening day at the farmer's market, cycling along the channel, rowing around the lake, and yoga on the dock, interspersed with tending to maintenance chores and general cleanup of the property.  Within this perfection, grief continued to be my constant companion throughout each day - it does not take a vacation. The daily challenge of ensuring that sadness does not gain a strong foothold is always present but being up at the cabin continues to be more difficult than being at home - I hope this will not always be the case because it is so beautiful there.  Out for a run on the back roads this morning, through acres of wild flowers, amid a symphony of bird songs, I was having trouble shaking off the sadness which was threatening to prevail.  Then, halfway along the route, Michael and Kelly's larger than life smiling faces appeared, side by side.  Their sparkling eyes met mine, sending me encouragement and cheering me on.  I could feel the love and support emanating from them.  My sadness lifted and joy filtered in as I happily returned their smiles.     

First Birthday

Dearest Granddaughter,
Later today we will be celebrating your first birthday, which falls tomorrow.  I have baked you a carrot cake; I cannot remember the last time I made one.  What I do know is that it was an obvious choice given that I had baked this same kind for your mother on her first birthday too.
What you have shown me about yourself thus far:
You give freely of your kisses - to stuffed animals, pictures in books, friends and family.
Your entertaining facial expressions are an ongoing source of joy and laughter.
You enjoy eating, moving your body to music, and reading "Pat the Bunny".
You are not keen on cats nor the feel of grass under your feet.
You are confident and curious, partnered with a healthy dose of cautiousness.
You have a wonderful sense of humour.
You are beautiful.

As you grow older, there may be times when you forget how fabulous you are.  I hope not.  However, if you do, you can read this birthday letter to help remind you of your inherent beauty and worth.  During this first year you have brought a great gift to our entire family, just by being you.

Thank you for being born.

Love and kisses,
Oma

Love and Gratitude

Two stockings now hang by the fireplace, my husband's and mine.  After some discussion, we decided to reinstate this tradition, having given it a pass last year.  There is some ambivalence here for me;  I am glad that we are brave enough to try this out, but experience a pang in my heart each time I notice the one that is not here.  Much of today will be spent lovingly preparing Christmas Eve dinner for the sixteen of us celebrating here tonight.  However, there is also time set aside for meditation this afternoon, ensuring that I connect on that deeper level with my son.  Later, two special candles will be lit -  ones standing sentry beside a photo of Michael and Kelly.  And as these emotionally charged days unfold,  I will continue to focus on gratitude and the abundance of love.  This is what nourishes me and enables joy to shine through.

Winter's Light

Winter has blown in with the promise of longer days, and shorter nights.  Tonight will find me in the city, wandering through a winter solstice labyrinth, created with over 700 candles.  A perfect way to celebrate the light within, as well as illuminate all the joy and love that surrounds me.   

A Hummingbird's Gifts

December 6th.  This date eliciting happy childhood memories of annual Nikolaus celebrations, together with other German speaking families. Today, unpacking Christmas boxes, while holding my granddaughter in my arms.  Sorting through countless ornaments and decorations.  Coming across my son's stocking.  Wondering what I might do with it. Something or nothing?  Trying to keep the anxiety at bay.  Focusing on the beauty in my life.  Then, glancing out the kitchen window.  Noticing a precious hummingbird landing on the nearby feeder.  These exquisite birds symbolizing so much.  Incorporated into legends and myths throughout the Americas.  When in flight, wingtips tracing out the infinity sign.  Messengers between worlds, representing immortality. Bringing uplifting energies of hope, joy, healing, and love.  This tiny creature filling my heart, and nourishing my spirit.   Sharing treasured gifts by its mere presence.

Moving On?

Moving on.  Well-meaning individuals tossing versions of this phrase into conversations.  With regards to grieving the death of my son.  "I'm glad to see you're moving on."  Implying leaving something behind.  As if putting it somewhere in the past is the answer.  Not relating to that concept at all.  Not moving anywhere.  Living with it.  Choosing to be in the present as much as possible.  Experiencing what is, right now. Extremely sad that Michael is gone.  Beyond description.  Living with that reality.  This not something that can change.  At the same time, loving the presence of my granddaughter.  Lucky enough to be kissing and holding her often.  Appreciating that immensely.  Grief and joy co-existing daily.  One not precluding the other.  Moving on?  Not part of the equation.

Comforting Communication

Enjoying a glass of wine in these waning moments of this summer solstice evening.  Alone with lights dimmed.  Cherishing the warm glow of a beautifully decorated candle.  One covered in a delicate swirling pattern of sage and coral.  Sitting here reflecting on the moving events at the ISA tonight.  Receiving a message from my son.  Him describing a forest scene with sun shining through the trees.  Exactly where I had been running this morning.  Making reference to our communication there.  Something we always engage in.  Expressing his joy in being able to stay connected.  Passing on encouragement.   Knowing I need it.  My mother coming through as well.  Later, taking my turn up on the platform.  Practising mediumship.  Bringing a message through for someone else in the audience.  Thankful to be learning to serve in this way.  Then upon leaving, speaking to a woman whom I had never met.  Learning she is also living with the experience of losing a child.  Finding great comfort in our conversation.  Both of us wondering aloud what this journey would look like without the spiritual awareness.  Agreeing it would likely be very grim indeed.  Instead, so grateful to know what we know.

Cherished Gift

Transitioning from there to here, swiftly and safely.  Beautiful baby Kennedy arriving mere hours ago.  A little girl, just as the pendulum had indicated months ago.  My heart overflowing with love and joy in the presence of her perfection.  Listening to those precious sounds of contentment as she nestled near her mother's breast.  Seeing her father's face reflect great wonder and delight.  Smelling her softness in my arms.  So very grateful for this cherished gift of a granddaughter. Welcome to our family little one.  You have chosen well.  

Discovering the Courage

In conversation with one of Michael's friends recently.  She also struggling with darkness and suicidal thoughts.  Just as my son had for years.  Genetically predisposed to both depression and addiction.  Then having them triggered by life experiences.  Further aggravated by the stigma and misconceptions still sadly surrounding these issues. Encouraging the keeping of secrets and resulting feelings of shame.  All combining to create trying situations.  Personal challenges. Innumerable versions of these existing in varying degrees for each one of us.  Choosing particular lessons before incarnating.  Leading to opportunities for spiritual growth.  Remembering this assists with discovering the courage required to face the trials.  Enabling one to make advantageous decisions.   Towards a lighter and more joy filled existence.

Snow Day

Snow day.  Rare occurrence in this part of the country.  Some communities in our area enjoying one or two this week.  Schools and businesses shutting down.  Opening up unexpected space in many people's lives.  Time out.  A gift from Mother Nature.  Encouraging folks to slow down.  Step away from the frantic pace many have adapted. Creating an opportunity to rediscover a sense of play.  Read a book. Savour a cup of tea.  Engage in board games.  Get out for a walk. Perhaps reawakening the joy these simple pastimes can bring.

Nine Months

Doing the math.  Three quarters of the way through this first year. Anticipating the challenges that still lie ahead.  More birthdays without them, including hers and his.  Celebrating Christmas and New Years. Then Valentine's Day, followed by the one year anniversary.  Mulling over ways to best honour the occasions.  Striving to incorporate love and joy into each of these events.  Providing some balance to the obvious sadness of missing them.