October 2008 (Vol. XXI, No. 9)
"Is there enough Silence for the Word to be heard?"
Every Blessing, dear friends. As summer dies into autumn, we can feel new energy, new life. For life is eternal ... how could it be otherwise? There is a universal continuity, an infinite and ever-flowing consciousness that we forget at our birth and return to at our physical death, where we pass into the Realm of Love. This Love is present to and with us throughout our lives. As young children, we naturally live in both the earthly and heavenly realms until the material world with its wondrous possibilities and myriad distractions becomes the norm.
Blessed are those who learn to see beyond the Veil, who communicate with the angels and lovingly co-create with the community of those who have entered true Life! As we die to all that is not life-giving here and now, we more easily make the transition when Love calls to us.
For me, as a physician, there is no surer evidence that something glorious and wonderful lies beyond our mortal existence. Death is not an end. It is a new beginning. It entails a magnificent reunion with God and all the wonderful souls that we've ever loved or will love. This is our destination when we pass over. Dying is not the end but rather a shift to a fresh form of life, a new and glorious manifestation of ourselves. In this regard, death would seem to be just another dramatic transition in a continuing cycle, similar tin quality to birth. We jettison our mortal shell as we pass from one life form and consciousness to another, more wondrous than the latter.
When it is over,
I want to say:
all my life I was a bride
married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking
the world in my arms.
Death is transformation and it occurs constantly. Every moment that has passed is death. Each moment gives us the opportunity to live in the present. The past does not exist. The future has yet to come. I am dying all the time. I am adapting to every change in life. I die every day because I am not attached to what happened a moment ago, I let it go, and this makes me free. When we surrender to death, we live only in the moment.
I began to face death and its implications very young. I could never have imagined then how many kinds of death there were to follow, one heaped upon another. The death that was the tragic loss of my country, Tibet, after the Chinese occupation. The death that is exile. The death of losing everything my family and I possessed ... for we had been among the wealthiest and most famous in Tibet.
I think that when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn't do. All that I might have been and couldn't be. All the choices I didn't make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven't been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I loved, the breath I breathed
All that matters is what you love
and what you love is who you are
and who you are is where you will be
when death takes you across the river.
With their last breath
those we love do not say good-bye --
for love is timeless.
Instead, they leave us a solemn promise
that when they are finally at rest
they will continue to be present to us
whenever they are called upon.
Let us fear not, nor grieve beyond letting go
the departure of those we have greatly loved,
for in the Tree of Life their roots and our own
are forever intertwined.
Her eyes filled with tears, but she said quietly, "I could die in peace, I think, if the world was beautiful. To know it's being ruined is hard."
Then, in the loss of all the world, when I might have said the words I had so long wanted to say, I could not say them. I saw that I was not going to be able to say them. I saw that I was not going to talk without crying, and so I cried.
She looked at me and held out her hand. She gave me the smile that I had never seen and will not see again in this world, and it covered me all over with light.
Grandmother spoke. "For eighty winters I have lived among you and now the World of Spirit is calling me to the other side. As winter brings to a close each cycle of seasons, so death brings to a close the cycle of our lives. I have loved all of you as my children and you must remember, after winter comes spring; also, after death comes birth and a new beginning.
If physical death is the price that I must pay to free
my white brothers and sisters from a permanent death
of the spirit, then nothing can be more redemptive.
Do not fear your death. For when that moment arrives, I will draw my breath and your soul will come to Me like a needle to a magnet.
The death of those whom we love and who love us opens up the possibility of a new, more radical communion, a new intimacy, a new belonging to each other. If love is stronger than death, then death has the potential to deepen and strengthen the bonds of love.
It is only when we have died that our spirits can completely reveal themselves. The spirit of love, once freed from our mortal bodies. will blow where it will, even when few will hear its coming and going.