Have you ever noticed how birds can express their commitment to loving each other so rapturously? My new engagement calendar, (I know, I'm a little old fashioned, in this technological new age,) has an image of two gannets. Two among thousands. Their bills are raised in a harmonious reaching for the sky above, a testament to their love and to the family life they are embarking on together.
A young crow will fluff his feathers and duck and bow to win the dedication of a hopeful potential mate. If they succeed, their union is formed and the full extended family of crow aunts and uncles and future children and cousins is born. There will be challenges, just like in any happy home. Only one stick in three will be suitable for the nest. The pile of rejects will grow on the ground below. But once the task is done and the babies are hatched, the depth of devotion knows no bounds.
And anyone who has ever seen a family of swans knows the absolute beauty and grace of a mother swan gliding along the still waters, with the babies forming a line behind her, as her husband tends to them all, watchful and caring, right nearby. Then the mother briefly dips her bill in the water, raises and opens the tips of her wings, just a little, and invites her new born cygnets to scramble on board to warm their feet and snuggle down on the downy soft boat of her back. Seeing them peeking out from time to time, with the self assured confidence of one so newly alive and deeply cared for, one can't help but feel the value of life and of love.
I'll leave you with this Happy New Year gift, a favorite quote of mine, from the English poet Lord Byron.
There are only four questions of value in life.
What is sacred?
Of what is the spirit made?
What is worth living for?
And what is worth dying for?
The answer to each is the same.
Only love.
May this new decade increase and usher in for you an abundance of that which is truly meaningful and valuable in your life. Only love.
© Josephine Laing 2020
Over the last two weeks on this Blog/Video Log, I've shared with you how I've been blessed by spirit reaching out to help and protect me during some of the more challenging moments in my life. This week, I'd like to share with you one more story where a gentleman who had recently passed away was protecting his wife by reaching across the veil between life and death.
This particular event took place when my husband, Frank and I were traveling in New Zealand in 2005. We had always longed to go there knowing how truly beautiful it is in so many ways. For our accommodations we preferred farm stays and home stays as this
gave us the opportunity to make friends and have more personal
interactions. New Zealand's people are bright, intelligent, creative and kind. The landscape is spectacular. And for me, as a working psychic, I was amazed and delighted to discover that my clairvoyant function was extremely heightened every day that we were there. I was able to avert danger, interact with nature and sense the presence of spirit at a much more profound level.
The story, that I'd like to share with you now, took place after we had crossed from one "island" to the next. At the ferry station we decided to take a taxi van with several other travelers to our separate destinations in the area. I helped the driver load our luggage into his enclosed trailer. Then off we went. After dropping off most of the other tourists, but with still a few to go, we arrived at our destination, the home of a woman whom we had contacted a day or two before.
Frank jumped out to go to her door and be sure that we had arrived at the correct address and I got into the trailer with the cabby to sort out our bags and began placing them on the curb. Frank came and got a load of our cases and took them in. Then an older gentleman, presumably the husband of our hostess arrived on the curb full of appreciative and welcoming softly murmured comments. After a quick little exchange of smiles, I resumed my activity in the trailer and emerged a few moments later with the last of our bags. From the curb, I saw the elder gentleman enter the front door of the home and I then followed after him.
Once inside, I met our hostess, who was just showing Frank to our room, right near the entrance. I went on into the room to freshen up while she invited Frank to come upstairs and see the kitchen. After showing Frank around, she then went up to the third level to resume watching a very exciting tennis match on the telly, and invited us to join her, if we'd like, once we had settled in.
After looking around, Frank returned downstairs and I asked how he liked meeting her husband. Frank was nonplussed by this and said that her husband and her two teen-aged children had all died the previous year in an automobile accident. Our hostess had shown him a photo of them. She also said that she was looking for a little more income and that we were her first home stay guests. It was right after that that she had excused herself to go upstairs to finish watching the game.
Hearing this I followed Frank up to the kitchen area to see the picture and there, in a photo, with two beautiful youngsters and our hostess beside him, was the older gentleman who had greeted me with smiles of welcome out in front of their home. Apparently the husband, unbeknownst to our hostess, had reached across the veil to greet us at the curb to see if wee would be suitable guests in their home. Evidently we passed his approval and received his welcome.
I am touched to know that our loved ones can help us not only in life, but also in death. They watch over us, whether we are aware of it or not, just making sure that all is well.
© Josephine Laing, 2015
After experiencing eighteen deaths in twenty four months back in the early part of the new millennium, Frank and I felt as if we had gone through the advanced course on death, loss and grieving. Our friend, Rupert Sheldrake has postulated that there is a resonance between individuals of a species that lets them know what has come before and what might lie ahead. As Frank considered this idea in terms of these many deaths that we'd experienced, he came up with a theory of his own.
Frank noticed that often with the loss of a loved one, he would feel off-balance, even clumsier. He also felt a void, not just psychologically, but also physically. This made him realize that the energy field of the person who had died was gone. Their body was no longer there to resonate with. Similar to a bat or a dolphin who uses echolocation, the energetic signal that Frank would be sending their way was no longer bouncing back to him. He felt that he literally needed to reformat his own field in order to steady himself once more.
So, how do we reformat our field? Well, we can start with all of the many ways that we process our grief: replaying the scene in our mind, reliving it with our friends, loosing ourselves in our work, allowing the passing of time, getting lots of physical exercise, realistically looking at the relationship we had with the one who has gone, seeing the attributes of those who have died in those who are still alive, doing art, letting ourselves cry as much and as long as we need to.
There are also other ways that we can heal ourselves energetically. Sometimes, if we are lucky and open to the idea, our loved ones can reach across the veil between the living and the dying to touch our lives in meaningful ways. This can often allow our healing to come to us almost instantaneously.
My friend Lillian lost her son. He was the happy one who always made her laugh and she was just so sad that he was gone. She couldn't stop grieving and crying. Then, one night while she was in bed, she awoke to the presence of a light in the room. As she looked, she realized that it was her son and he was looking so very sad. She asked him, "Why are you sad, you're in heaven?" And with that he faded away.
In that instant, Lillian realized that the reason he was so sad was because she was so sad and she knew that he wanted her to be happy. Our loved ones don't want us to mourn our lives away. They want us to enjoy and love our lives. In that moment, Lillian knew she had to heal her heart and get on with her life and find her way back to balance and love again. And with that determination, she did.
When our dear friend Franci died, we all went out on a boat onto the bay to scatter her ashes in the waves. As her son poured the ash we tossed flowers from the garden into the water. Some of the ash floated on the surface, some went straight down tinkling in the sunlight that pierced to the depths and some took flight in the air. As a gust of ash blew up I was about to take a breath and there was Franci, ready to enter my lungs. So I inhaled. Right then, Franci's totem animal, the dolphin, appeared. Not one, but three of them, arching up out of the water into the ash and flowers, circling round several times filling all of our hearts with wonder and a fond farewell. We knew in that moment that Franci was in good company and we all celebrated her life and her love.
Our hearts do get broken, but sometimes spirit steps in to help and lets us become more able to navigate those turbulent waters and find our way quickly back onto the road to joy.
© Josephine Laing, 2014
As my friend Maggie was passing away we all took turns sitting vigil by her bedside. It took her about three or four days to die. As the time drew nearer she experienced increased lapses of consciousness. I tended to take the night shifts. I'd get off work, go home, change clothes, have a meal, and then head on over to her house. I relieved the evening friend somewhere around 10:00 and sat with her until 2:00. That's when her neighbor and long term friend Harold would take over.
On the night she actually died, the most profound thing happened. As I came to be with her and sat by her side, she greeted me with such warm love in her eyes and patted my hand, and said, "Thank you darling so much for coming to be with me." Then, tiring easily, she slipped away into a little time of sleep.
A moment or two later she rose up with a start, reaching her arms out in front of her and called out, "Arthur! Grandmama! It's so wonderful to see you." Her husband had died before her, and so of course, had her grandmother. But there they were, in the room with us, and she was reaching out to them. Then she'd lapse with exhaustion and sink back down on the mattress and drift to sleep again. A minute later she would wake up, pat my hand and say, "Oh darling, I'm so glad you're here. Thank you so much for coming to be with me."
Like seaweed on an underwater rock, she flowed from one state of reality back into the other, again and again as the hours went by, deep into the night. Then Harold took over and an hour or two later, she died. I felt like I had been to a going away party and a welcome home party all in the same night. It was a wonderful experience and I'll never forget it.
A few years back our friend Ralph passed away. On his last day, surrounded by his loved ones, Ralph pointed with his finger to our friend Dave, and then to our friend Mark, and then to his darling wife Aleta. Then looking each of them in the eyes by turn, he pointed between them, and beyond them, and around them, to all the others who were there, not in body but in spirit. They were there to greet him as he made ready to join them going home.
We are not alone. The world of spirit is rich and all around us all the time. And as we get close to making our own transition, the barriers break down and the wall between life and death becomes very thin. I consider these two incidents to be very valuable in my life. When times get tough, when I'm in a low spot, I try to remember these lessons. This lets me realize that help is all around and love is everywhere all the time. May we all move with gratitude as we round the bend into the fullness of this season.
© Josephine Laing, 2014
