REMEMBERING URSULA

In the 20-odd years of our friendship, she was on a profound spiritual journey, listening hard to her inner guidance and always seeking to learn and grow. A warmly loving person with highly developed intuition, she seemed essentially positive — yet I also know she had struggles, challenges and sorrows like the rest of us. 

Nothing was more shattering than the death of her son from cancer, quite quickly, still a young man, just under a year ago.

In the months since, her spiritual journey accelerated as they remained connected. Alongside her overwhelming grief, she gained many realisations about the path of his soul both here and beyond. She was given deep understanding of the lessons he was here to learn, and the insights that she herself could derive from the whole experience. 

She shared her journey and her insights generously on facebook, including the times of pain, doubt and confusion ... from which she always managed to emerge with new illumination. She shared this not only for her self-expression, but because that was her way of teaching and empowering others.

Recently, I thought she had reached a stage of peace and happiness — assisted by a spiritual retreat she attended in Bali, and by her joy in the rest of her family: husband, daughter and grandchildren.

Yesterday evening I was vaguely aware of a spirit presence, thought it must be (as so often) my darling husband come to pay a visit, but then I realised it was a dark-haired woman. I didn't pay a lot of attention. Being a psychic medium, I am used to spirits hovering around: I often function as a kind of clearing-house, which doesn't have to involve any conscious action on my part. I gave a brief, friendly acknowledgment, received a feeling of calm friendliness  in return — as if we exchanged a wave or a smile in passing — then went on with other things.

It was the night of the full moon. A friend and I saw it rising, very large and bright, just above the horizon, as we drove home from a Tarot class I'm teaching. By the time I went out into my back yard, quite early in the evening, and did a brief ritual, the moon was much smaller, but still very clear, very white. Full moon is a time of strong and positive power. My ritual was fairly informal this time. Basically, I re-dedicated myself to the service of Love.

Was it before or after that, that I became aware of the spirit visitor? After, I think, but I can't be sure.  In any case, she chose a wonderful night to make her transition!

I was already in bed at 11.20, sitting up and browsing fb, vaguely wondering why I was doing so, when a mutual friend messaged me out of the blue to tell me Ursula had died that day, of a brain haemorrhage. She thought I probably hadn't had the news yet. She didn't go into detail, exhausted after much crying and ready to sleep at last. 

"I'm glad I told you,' she said after our short conversation. I got the impression it had occurred to her to message me just as she was about to retire for the night. A nudge from Above, perhaps?

I was shocked! I couldn't go back to sleep immediately, so in the end I got up about 2am, toasted Ursula with a glass of red, ate some bread and honey, read some poems, did some (unrelated) writing, thought.... 

Finally I held a little vigil all by myself, reminiscing about details of our friendship. How strange, I thought, not to be sharing these reminiscences with my dear husband, who first introduced me to her (they were already friends) — as we surely would, had he been still alive himself.

I contemplated the idea of her saying hello to him in the after-life, but then I thought no, she'll be heading straight for a reunion with her son. (We interviewed her many years ago, as one of the mothers in our tales of psychic children. The story she told us involved that same son, as a sensitive young boy who even then had awareness of the other-worldly.)

I'm not sure when I got back to bed; maybe 3.30, maybe 4. But then I slept peacefully.

I think now how devastating it must be for her family — a second loss in so short a time, either one of which is terrible enough on its own. 

But for her? It seems to me that she must have completed her incredible journey. She had found huge, ever-increasing stores of love and understanding. She had attained deep peace. She knew great happiness in the true and simple joys of this world: nature, friendship, family. She did everything she could to bring peace, understanding, love and happiness to others. 

She has left us at an age we think of as 'too young' (62). But I do believe it was the perfect time for her soul to move on. Many are blessed to have known her.

Am I making her sound saintly? She wasn't. She was funny and feisty, earthy and human. I guess I knew her best as a good friend. 

This morning, of course, I make the connection to the dark-haired woman who visited in spirit last night — younger and slimmer than I knew her, which may be why I didn't recognise her at the time. (It was just a quick glimpse anyway, seen only dimly.) 

Or perhaps she deliberately didn't make herself known, as I hadn't yet received the news; but just connected sufficiently for me to know, later, that she'd come to wave goodbye as she set out on her further journey.


(Photo by Yvonne Teoh Bource, from the Bali trip)

WHAT'S IT LIKE BEING DEAD?

Recently at dVerse Poets Pub, an online community, we were asked to write from the point of view of a dead man or woman.

My poem was a fantasy which did not draw on my work as a psychic medium, but rather on past selves I've been in this lifetime, welling up from the subconscious.

However some readers asked what I had learned from that work. I struggled to answer succinctly — but then I read someone else's poem which perfectly expresses much of what I have learned about being on 'the other side'.

You may read it here.

A Helpful Friend

My friend Avahgdu died yesterday. He was only a few months older than my Firstborn. He had been sick a long time with diabetes and its nasty side-effects. I only knew him online. I came across this impassioned utterance, fell in love with it and responded to it. We became instant friends and found we had things in common: beliefs, values, interests. He was a poet, fiction writer, Reiki channel and witch, and also had within him great ability in spiritual healing. I learned of a tragic background which I won't go into here. He lived in America; we never met in person.

Some months ago, when I was ill and distressed, he sent me help in the form of spiritual healing. I felt it tangibly, though lightly — a very distinct, peaceful energy, all-pervading in the gentlest way.

He was hospitalised for some time before his death. He was unable to continue his social networking, and his friends relied on family members to keep us informed via his Facebook page. Then we heard nothing for some little time. Two nights before he died, I was thinking of him so insistently that I sent a message to a mutual friend to ask if he had any news. No.

I sent off some Reiki his way, but didn't spend time on in-depth tuning in. Then, yesterday, came the announcement of his passing that morning. His Facebook page is now full of sorrowful messages. He was much loved. Many, of course, did know him in person, but even those who didn't, like me, mentioned how profoundly he had touched their lives.

One friend across the world said she had heard the beep of a Facebook message coming in, the night before he died (not knowing then that he had died) but there was no message to account for it. She asked to be told if anyone else had any kind of sign or communication from him. I told her I had exactly the same experience as her, also on the night before he died — the recognisable beep, but no message to be seen on Facebook. Like her, I only connected it with him after I learned of his death.

The other thing that happened for me seemed a bit personal to share on his fb page, where many people I don't know could read it. I'd rather describe it here.

I've been mourning my late husband for five and a half months. I'm doing OK, but it's painful. Last night, preparing a ritual to mark Avahgdu's passing (my personal send-off) I became aware of the same healing energy I had received from him in the past. I feared he might become stuck here, so tried not to accept it, but it had already done its work.

This morning I was packing up some things of my husband's to send to my stepchildren. I waited for the usual, physical heart-ache on seeing his stuff. Guess what? It didn't come. I was flabbergasted. Later there were other triggers which did cause pain, but it was much milder and softer, all of a sudden, than it had been until now. The quality — the intensity — of my grief has changed, eased. I like the feeling.

I can only say, Thank you, Avahgdu.

Prayer for the Dead

I light this candle for Avahgdu. May his spirit pass through the portal betwixt this world and the next and find rest and peace. May his time spent in the land of light be profitable, that he may learn the lessons necessary for the next stage of his journey towards God. May Avahgdu be at peace and at rest. Peace be with you.

He died earlier today. Ritual performed tonight.