Monday, February 27, 2012

Grief, Loss, and Never-Ending Immortality

Image by Remus Brailoiu

A reader of The Risen recently shared about a friend’s tragic loss of her unborn child, and of the devastation felt by family and friends:
“I am feeling very unprepared going into this stage of life where I'll be dealing with friends and family dying. Burying everyone before burying myself. Having deeper knowledge of the Risen World is, of course, tremendously helpful - in fact, it's everything: knowing that life continues beyond death makes all things bearable. And yet, I cannot help but feel a deep sense of sadness and longing to hold onto the beauty of this life, of this world. And I don't just mean our individual lives only, but the larger life of our world which is ephemeral. It is so hard to think that we as a world will only exist for an age, just a flash in the history of the life of the Sun. Things like Paris, New York, Van Gogh, or Mozart or Plato, there is no way to hold onto these things. How sad to know that it will all be consumed one of these days, if not by ourselves, then by the end of our Sun or the Universe.”
I (August) come from a very large family, one of those where most of my 15+ aunts and uncles all had large families, none less than 5, most 8 and one with 14 kids. I'm the eldest of 7, although 5 were lost to miscarriage and another died 10 days after birth. My childhood was like one big happy public swimming pool. As I near the end of my sixth decade on this planet, more of them are Risen than not at this point in time. Sometimes it feels like I'm living in a big, deserted warehouse, the empty swimming pool echoing with so many memories. I remember when the first one made her transition, many years ago, a favorite aunt, and how I felt a pronounced, unfamiliar shift in the world around me. I was already in my twenties, an adult, and yet it made me feel small and even helpless. It was like some kind of psychic or psychological earthquake, telling me something remarkable had happened, as if some great piece of machinery had been set in motion and was now running. I was so overwhelmed by it that I got roaring drunk for about a week. I now see that I hadn't realized I was also standing in a long line, each one waiting their turn to cross over, and that the line had just started moving with my aunt’s leaving. Every time another relative has transitioned, I have felt the line get shorter, and sense my place moving closer to the line of crossing.

Although there wasn't any fear when that first transition happened, there was confusion. Now, the feeling is one of excited anticipation, waiting for my turn. I try not to scare myself with it, in the way that I would dread getting on a roller coaster. I actually avoid roller coasters, but I won't avoid my transition, that's for certain! Because of my many years' intimacy with the Risen and with Tim, much of my interior, invisible existence has been with them, for their non-visibility has not, for the most part, interfered with our continued awareness of and communication with one another. Having spent so much time in the Risen lands, albeit still in extremely limited ways, I've also come to see that the planet we think we experience as incredibly beautiful and precious - which it is - is but a bare, thin veneer of a few particles of light, compared to the greater Risen reality. It is the same with art, music, dance, and the like. Most people cling to this reality the way they might cling to a special, beloved garment, trying to wear it beyond its usefulness and faded beauty, and so are unable to get a glimpse of the next and higher reality until just a few moments before their last few earthly breaths. My wish is that people would somehow strive to get such glimpses far sooner in their lives. Just a slight foretaste may be enough to dissolve the illusion of hope and replace it with the knowledge of a higher truth. For most people, this would be like jumping off a cliff without means of flight. But just like baby birds, we will fly, or learn to fly . . . and there is always assistance in the form of spirit guides and other non-terrestrial helpers to help us find our wings.

It is a blessing to also know that even that which we perceive as "great works of art" on earth actually have a continuing and vibrant co-existence in the higher-vibrating geographies. The same artists we revere here often are still creating there. Even our book, The Risen, exists in a certain form on Tim's level. Much more sophisticated, of course - and on several levels, in fact - for it was originated from a dimension wherein the Risen Assembly dwell, and who conceived the plan to manifest the book - transmitted several times down through various levels of consciousness, from higher to lower - until it finally emerged here, on our precious little blue marble of water and light.

We send prayers of light and love to our reader’s friend and family for her recovery, and always encourage anyone to do the same - pray - in support of the very real pain and sorrow brought by such sad experiences. And yet, learning to access the Risen lands may bring her into contact with the child, who is not lost, but alive, healthy, happy, and waiting! This can only bring true joy to her own experience, to mix with the sense of loss, and transmute it into something higher and finer, ever enhancing our never-ending immortality.



3 Comments:

At Tue Feb 28, 07:11:00 PM 2012, Blogger Madame de Monsieur said...

Ah, August, Tim and all - such a sad post from that reader. It made me want to cry out "But they are not lost! Not just the people but the places, they are all there!"

Louis and I have been to Paris There many times. We've been to Venice, we've been to a concert of new music by Vivaldi, we've been sketched by Titian (and nearly fallen over laughing a year later, when we went to an exhibtion of his latest works at the Louvre and found a painting of ourselve - cheeky blighter never said he was going to do that!)

It's all there, it's all alive. I've no idea how all the best of a city lives simultaneously, unless it's like transparent layers, accessible as one wishes (or like a TARDIS that actually works!) but one doesn't need to grasp the mechanics to do it, any more than one needs to know what chemical messages go from the brain down the nerves and the muscles to raise one's arm.

There is no loss. Sense of it here, yes, but nothing of love is lost.

 
At Tue Feb 28, 07:15:00 PM 2012, Blogger August Goforth said...

Thank you for your supportive and loving guidance of your experiences!

 
At Tue Feb 28, 09:02:00 PM 2012, Blogger Madame de Monsieur said...

Our pleasure! Giving back ... :)

 

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