|
| THE COSMIC NETWORKER |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Hello from my Heart,
How are you doing now that the first month of
the year of New Beginnings is nearly over? Many
souls are making their transition at this time. Michael
channel Shepherd Hoodwin has written an insightful
article about Grief that may be helpful if you are coping
with the loss of a loved one. And Karen Bishop writes
about the loss of what looked like a blissful
relationship.
Astrologically things are busy as Mars goes direct
today while Mercury went retrograde on Monday. One
brake off and another one on. Wait until at least Feb.
18 before starting anything big and new. We also have
eclipses in Feb. - more on that next time.
Meanwhile, Love! Breathe! Forgive! Claim your power!
Let your
feelings flow through you as you negotiate the
challenges and release them. And give yourself the
blessed gift of meditation.
lovelightandlaughter, ![]() You are Worthy of ALL the LOVE and JOY in the Universe!
Thank you for praying for:
Jim Fletcher, Columbus, GA
Kenneth Garcia, Atlanta, GA, his family and
friends
John Voelpel, Tampa General Hospital,
Tampa, FL
Newborn Raymond Riley Ayers and family,
Snellville,GA
Loyd and Katherine Echols, Rayle, GA
Tricia Heliker, St. Louis, MO
Judy Dixon and her family, Panama City,
Panama
Phil Harrison, Woodstock, GA
Fred Zluck, Palm Harbor, FL
Patrick Hausske and Simona Preizler
James Moran, Emory Hospital, Atlanta, GA
Dr. Larry Strong, Wellington, FL
Roland Stebbins, Marietta, GA; and his
daughter Annie, Fort Collins, CO in CA
Sandie Nicholson, Athens, GA
Brandon Wood, 9, Lawrenceville, GA
Darrell and Alissa Wood, Monroe, GA
Dori Pfender, Buford, GA
Genni Gibbon, Lawrenceville, GA
Gentle rains in the Southeast
Prayer results: Ruthie Vail has had her heart blockage
studied and the Dr. found he could treat this medically
with RX. She is doing much better. Thanks to all
healers!
From: Shepherd Hoodwin [sgh@summerjoy.com]
I wrote this piece in response to a discussion
on the Michael Teachings Yahoo group.
***
As big a fan as I am of growing through joy
rather than pain, as Michael puts it, each of us will
experience the death of loved ones, and it will hurt like
hell (unless we die first, in which case others will hurt
like hell). And there can be much growth from the
experience. Hey, I didn't make the rules. I just work
here.
Lest some assume that grieving is merely
emotional indulgence, a human foible: there is a real
energetic component to it. In any relationship, an
energetic bond develops. When someone close to us
dies, that bond is ripped, and we have to reconfigure
that connection: it's no longer body/soul to body/soul--
it's now body/soul to just soul. This adjustment is
basically what grieving is. It's a natural process, but
many things can stand in its way. In dealing with them,
we grow. We're discussing grieving physical death
here, but grieving, say, the death of a relationship or
any other loss involves a similar upheaval and
reconfiguration.
Brandon Bays, the author of "The Journey,"
believes that grieving can be completed in a week if
one feels it fully, staying in and processing the
experience. Some cultures have traditions of public
wailing and other physical manifestations of grief; that
is much healthier than our culture's belief in holding it
all together, and moves people through the stages of
grief far more quickly. However, that may not be
entirely necessary--it is awareness that moves energy
and brings healing; physicalizing it may just make
awareness more tangible. The point is to learn to be
with our feelings rather than trying to override them
with what we think we should feel; to be authentic; to
try to bring all parts of Self onto the same page in a
compassionate way. When grieving is "clean," without
complications such as guilt, regret, unfinished
business, etc., it can burn intensely and even sweetly,
and then be done. However, being human, there often
*are* complications, and we need to deal with them if
we are to complete our grieving.
My mother died when I was eight. It was
devastating, the defining event of my life. I've worked a
great deal on healing and letting go, but the tear in the
fabric of my soul isn't even now entirely healed
(although it's close).
A movie depicting the death of a mother or
something that reminds me of that can still quickly get
me sobbing, which actually feels good to me,
although I prefer to do it in private. Before she died,
she recorded herself singing a lullaby--an amazing
gift; for years, I could not hear it without sobbing, but
now I can, which tells me that I've healed a lot. I had a
vivid vision of her five months after she died (I think
Michael was with her), and I've had free
communication with her for over twenty years. I've had
the intellectual understanding that the soul is eternal
since my teens. All that's enormously helpful, but
our "inner child" isn't instantly healed no matter what
we know; it's on its own clock.
What has delayed a full healing are all the
related issues that the entire experience brought up
for me. Experiencing her death in this way was a
karmic payback for me, so it was especially charged.
Beyond the obvious trauma of losing a parent, it
brought up the unresolved inner conflicts from the
past life when I formed the karma (and was tortured
and murdered by the Church--I hate it when that
happens). In addition, my parents had just divorced,
and my brothers and I went to live with my father and a
prototypical "wicked witch" step-mother who didn't
want us. (She used to say to me, "I'll get you, my pretty!
and your little dog, too!" The funny thing was, it was
*her* dog. I didn't even like dogs. At least, she thought
I was pretty.)
Had I just been dealing with her death, I
probably would have grieved and then been able to
move on much more quickly. Clearly, this experience
for me was the impetus for a great deal of growth,
something no personality would deliberately sign up
for, but, obviously, essence looks at it differently. And if
it could have been different, it would have been; we all
mostly make the choices we know how to make at the
time. In any case, I sought healing early on in this life,
which led me to where I am now. Had I not been
broken in that past life and re-broken by my mother's
death, I would not have had the need to plumb the
depths to fix the breaks.
This is simplistic, but we can chart a
repeating pattern over all our lifetimes:
If you know someone who seems pretty happy and
untroubled, she is probably at step 1 or 5. The rest of
us are in between. It's a mistake to assume that
someone who is a mess is less evolved that
someone who is in equilibrium. It's just different
places in the repeating cycle.
The new paradigm of "growing through joy" rather than
pain is becoming more real to some of us, but most of
us have rarely known how to choose that thus far.
Even today, I initiate many of my most interesting inner
explorations because I'm searching for a truth to set
me free from a pain or discomfort. If things are okay, I
am more likely to just go about my life (which is fine,
too--we need time to regroup).
Nancy M. mentioned wallowing in grief. My mother's
mother was an obvious example of that. She cried
every day for ten years after my mother's death, but
never got any closer to healing. As a teen, she had
starved through WWI in Warsaw and saw people
dying in the streets. Then, she lost most of her family,
including her beloved only sibling, in the Holocaust.
She had already lost some of her sanity and could not
bear the loss of her only daughter, who was
supposed to live the perfect life that had been denied
her. That was obviously a very difficult life, for anyone
but especially for a delicate mature artisan. It's
sobering to realize how many people in the world even
today live lives this painful or worse. I don't believe that
the fact that others have it worse invalidates one's own
pain, but it does add a perspective. Here I am writing
this post, and there are billions of people in the world
who don't even have high-speed internet access.
With my grandmother, there was a disconnect to her
grief; it didn't come from the depths of her heart, but
more from a weeping sore on the surface. She had a
chief feature (obstacle) of martyrdom, and much self-
pity. In martyrdom, you give yourself brownie points for
having suffered, so there isn't much incentive to let go
of your suffering.
I knew that I didn't want to wallow--I was aware that the
goal of healing was to let go--yet that didn't entirely
stop me from doing it. I still do my fair share of
wallowing, as well as mulling and over-thinking. A few
weeks ago, an acupuncturist I see once in a while told
me that he could tell from my demeanor that I think too
much. Interestingly, I'd just been thinking about that a
lot.
Anyway, about twenty years ago, after a good amount
of therapeutic deep emotional release, I was working
with a new practitioner and started again sobbing
when we got to the mother stuff. I had always thought
that that was a good sign, indicating that I was going
deep and releasing. However, the practitioner stopped
me and said that I was on a tape loop, going over the
same territory--I needed to go deeper and really let go;
otherwise, it was just emotional masturbation. I don't
know how he knew that, but it was an important
insight for me.
Why was I still holding on? I didn't get much attention
as a child (and, God knows, I'm a sage-cast sage with
a sage essence twin and sage overleaves); was this
a way to get attention in the form of sympathy? Did I
get brownie points for having endured a miserable
childhood? Did I feel that I needed to hold onto my
mother because no one else loved me and no one
ever would? Did I get a payoff from feeling sorry for
myself? Could I excuse my failures and self-
involvement because of my losses? All of the above,
to some extent.
The bond between parent and child is necessarily the
most powerful one, because without that energetic
connection, children will not survive. When parents
lose a child, it's understandable that they often feel
guilty, since parents are responsible for their children
before they come of age at what Michael calls
the "third internal monad." With all troubling
experiences, it's worthwhile to explore what we might
have done differently, what mistakes may have been
made. However, usually, objectively speaking, the
death of a child is not the parents' fault. Even if a death
was theoretically preventable ("I never should have let
her go to that movie.") it's unreasonable to expect
anyone to be perfect and to anticipate and prevent
every possible freak occurrence. Yet people often cling
to blaming themselves when a loved one dies
because it seems better than facing the
powerlessness of being a human: that there are
some awful things that happen that we simply cannot
control. When we are able to let go of trying to control
the universe, we take a key step towards acceptance
and surrender.
People often get angry at God when painful things
happen. I clearly remember thinking after my mother
died that God must not exist, because a loving God
would never let such a thing occur. I assumed that this
was an original thought. Now, it's obvious that I was
reading from the same script as billions of others
have before and since. It reveals a childish lack of
understanding of how life works. How is God
supposed to stop "bad" things from happening
without shutting down free will? And how would we
grow into co-creators if we didn't experience the
results of our choices, the most notable being karma?
I later spoke with a lovely Christian Scientist who'd
been my mother's friend. She said, "God is like the
sun. People can choose to close the blinds." A simple
thought, but very helpful.
For me, it has been indispensable to know that each
of us is eternal; that my mother and other loved ones
are still present, albeit without a body; that death is not
the end. Many of those who believe that death is the
end must have to close down a lot to cope with this
world. This knowledge doesn't eliminate grieving, but
it does eventually make letting go easier.
Anything that stands in the way of our letting go, in any
facet of life, is an important area of growth for us. The
fact that holding on keeps us miserable and out of the
present moment is an incentive to find our way to
letting go, which may be the most difficult thing to do
that there is. Letting go without giving up is the
beginning of joy.
All the best,
1) New Moon in Aquarius by Lisa Dale Miller Link to Lisa's Website 2) What's Up on Planet Earth from Karen Bishop: Link to Karen's Website
The Cosmic Networker is a free email newsletter. To subscribe send an email to lois.grant@comcast.net Small voluntary contributions to defray the cost of the mail service are gratefully accepted at the address below.If for any reason you decide you do not want to receive The CN, simply return the message with "Remove" in the subject line - or opt out below. |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||