Making His 'Transit'

It’s important to understand that when someone we love dies, their spirit goes on. And, in fact, the relationship goes on. Since my ex-husband’s death from a heart attack in 2004, I have had many visits from him. Because I am a sensitive, and because I am open to it, I have been helping him to continue on his journey in my "dreams."

There have been times when I've pleaded with him to stop coming. His visits are often childish and manipulative, just as in life. Still, in one dream, he revealed to me, through unmistakable symbolism, that his substance abuse had been the result of an undiagnosed manic-depressive disorder. All highs and lows, he had explained, no middles. This was comforting to me, of course, and I was very grateful to him for confirming what I had suspected.

In another visit, he wanted to know if I had loved him, even though I had divorced him. He couldn’t make his “transit,” he whispered in my ear one morning, until he knew the answer to this question. I did not believe he was anywhere near making his transit with a question like that. It annoyed me and my emotions took over. This was the broken record of our life together. Even though I had assured him at every turn in the marriage that I loved him, no amount of words or action could convince him. He was so confused about love. For him, sex was love. The amount of sexual attraction he could induce in another was a fair estimate of his self-worth. It often grieved me. I could not reach him. And his was such a beautiful soul capable of much goodness. His gift for music, his genuine sweetness and concern for others, those twinkling eyes of merriment…

In late 1999, when I told him that I was going to file for divorce, he told me that we would never be apart, and that we were “joined at the hip.” At the time that he said it, I knew it was a hint of things to come. I received the news with dread, knowing how possessive he could be. He has made good on his promise, never leaving my side for a moment. And true to form, I am there for him, again and again, assuring him of my love and helping him to transit to the next level in his soul's journey. My love for him is eternal. I recently recognized that he helped me to complete my karma in an important area of my own journey. I chose him for this. How can I deny him my patience and understanding, as others have been patient and understanding with me?

Some time back, I had a visit from one of my spirit guides who showed me a book. She began flipping through the pages but only so far. I tried to turn the pages beyond where her finger was, but to no avail. She said to me, “First the dream therapy, and then the saying ‘goodbye’ to your loved one.” After I awakened, I wondered how this would play out. Obviously, someone had been listening to my pleas for my husband’s departure.

Lately, my ex has been visiting quite a bit in ways not pleasing to me. I am seeking a new relationship here on the Earth plane. It is time for him to let go. Sleeping rather fitfully, I awoke at 5 a.m. this morning after having had yet another visit from him. So I prayed in earnest for his deliverance and, eventually, I fell back asleep. And there he was again. He was leading me and our two children into a Catholic church, making a big show of it. Some people were seated at a table inside. He retrieved a small book of scripture from them and we left, making our way across the lawn at the entrance to the church. As we walked, our path cut across a steady stream of people entering the church. I said to him, “Why did you make all of us get out of the car and go with you? You could have done this yourself.” There was no response. I stopped him, in the middle of the stream of worshippers and a spirit being appeared opposite us. He was smiling, but he was not mine. Through thought transference, I recognized him as my husband’s spirit guide. I said to my husband, “All you had to do was let me love you.” His spirit guide seemed very pleased. I woke up.

I share this personal story with you so that you will understand the importance of our relationships, and how we are all eternally bound, one to another. There is a completion of cycle. And a completion of spirit. To resist the power of love and its faithfulness is to resist yourself and your soul’s journey. To harbor bitterness and resentment toward others is to cut yourself off from God’s perfect path to liberty. Everything has a purpose, even suffering. Be patient and kind. At all times, be at peace, seeking harmony, unity and truth.

Everything of Value Is Formless

OK, I will explain why there is jello in this blog post. But first...

We are fortunate this week to have a solar eclipse in Leo. It falls in my ninth house which rules worldly wisdom and universal perspective. And this is a good thing. Because my moon's south node (my karmic past) is in Leo. Which means, I have a tendency (HAD a tendency) to be rather self-centered. I will be spending a lifetime harmonizing my love of being center-stage with my desire to serve the greater good. And as my sun is in Sagittarius, this also means, that, at times, I can be a complete fool (or a calculating clown, too). All to your amusement and my undying amazement. Because these personality traits seem fixed, I will use my life lessons, my foolishness, to help others.

I married a performer in this lifetime. He had his ascendant in Leo and his moon in Scorpio. His ego needed constant stroking and he loved his intrigue. I don't wish to offend anyone who has these planetary aspects, but the man was obnoxious. He was also an excellent entertainer, very witty (Gemini sun) and I loved him dearly and stayed with him until such time as my lessons with him were finished. I was exhausted. And now, he is on the "other side." Which is a good thing for him because he needed spiritual medication. Wine, women and song. But I digress.

For some many years now, I have been reciting this mantra from Mary Baker Eddy, as it was given to me by my entertainer husband who was raised in Christian Science: "There is no life, truth, or substance in matter. All is infinite mind and infinite spirit." Whenever there is a pause in my meditative thinking, it creeps in, and I restate it with conviction. I had only an intellectual understanding of its underlying principle when I first began to embrace it, but lately, especially now with this eclipse sitting on my ninth house, and with all of my issues over the material world, I finally see for myself what it truly means. I grasp it at the heart level. Once again, as I see my storehouse being depleted, I can only acknowledge what truly matters, what sustains me and everyone else on this planet: the formless divine source. I learn my lessons the hard way, but I do learn them. God loves the fool.

The jello. My father passed away in May 2004. Dad was a Taurian, which means he was all wrapped up in 2nd house issues (the material world, values, our feelings of self-worth). One day, near the end of his life, the family was ordering pizza. Dad was lying in his hospital bed in another room of the house, going in and out of dementia, hallucinating on drugs designed to help him. There he was, a crumpled mess of Parkinson's disease, unable to release himself from a fetal position which his body had slowly, achingly, forced upon him, reminding passersby that, "of course, you'll have to come get me because I can no longer drive..." So the family is debating who has the cash to pay for the pizza, and from his weakened condition, Dad calls out with enormous strength and determination to be heard above the clatter, "If you check in my wallet, I think I've got some cash in here." That was Dad. Let me give you some money. What do you need? Will you love me, then? Will I be worthy if I can show you the money? The fact that he even heard the conversation was something of a miracle that day.

A couple of days ago, as I lay sleeping, I was awakened to someone standing beside the bed who spoke my name. I hadn't heard that voice in a long, long time. I looked up and there was my father. I hadn't seen him (to my knowledge) since his passing. I was so happy to see him. I reached over to grasp his arms, but my hands went through his body. His arms felt like pillars of jello. That's how I would describe it. I tried again and again and could not embrace him. Seeing my frustration, he seated himself at the end of the bed. And then, I woke up.

I believe he showed himself to me because he wanted to be here during my time of financial stress. To "open his wallet" to me. When he opened his wallet, it was an act of love, but it never felt that way to us. That's because, in truth, it was Dad that was seeking love. That was at the heart of the love story that was being acted out. Dad was saying, "love me, please." He was always trying to give you money, even when you didn't need any. I was able to see this truth clearly during his lifetime. And I forgave him. I knew, underneath it all, he really did love me, but he could never say "I love you" without faltering, without discomfort, and he didn't show his love in the ways that I wanted. Hugging his adult children was painful for him. I finally had to coax the words out of him during my adulthood by saying the words myself, which felt so foreign between us. And I always gave him a hug. It was the healing that I needed. And it took awhile. I remember when he finally graduated from "me, too" to a full-blown "I love you." I was very pleased and happy for both of us.

And it reminds me once again of the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. I keep it posted in my home and in my heart, and it is the bottom line for me. To quote from it: "O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be loved, as to love." I love you, Dad.

So this Earthly life is just a dream, maybe not jello, but something similar. And what holds it all together is eternal and formless. This soul journey is an opportunity--a very important one--to grow in love, to end polarity in our hearts and relinquish the grip of separation from all that unites us. God bless you all.