h2>Dating : A Medium, A Connection Between Life and Death: Crazy Wonderful Thoughts
Death, it makes you think crazy thoughts! Your tried and true orbits change. You get not just nudged into a different trajectory in life, you get shattered and shocked into wild and wacky new spins, twists and turns, and the changes are unimaginable. Shadows and ghosts become real. You question everything. You remember long lost freaky feverish dreams about intertwined rattlesnakes dancing, mating or warring. Nothing follows the same pattern as before. After Michelle’s death, I started having visions while meditating or sleeping. I was often in a state of exhaustion and took many short naps to recover. M had gone off to college. L was in classes at high school. During the day, the house was always quiet, so quiet. During this first moment or first vision, I was in the back bedroom and still in a state of deep mourning. Then during my meditation or sleep, something strange happened. I am quite sure that I had just closed my eyes.
Sleep enveloped me with something mystical. I know how it sounds, but I saw dancing numbers and floating or flowing imperfect spheres or balls or ellipses and hearts and shapes of energy lining themselves up and funnelling themselves into my body. This energy formed a long endless conga line and they were entering my body. These floating numbers, shapes and balls of energy were so focused and directed. They originated from a centralized spot and traveled with purpose. And on the periphery, there was only empty space. The energy entered me right through one of my eyes (I think). I didn’t think I was asleep, but I must have been. I was startled and almost frightened, but the energy just lined up and filled me with peace and joy. I am sure I was dreaming. I must have been dreaming but in a cat nap?
As I lay in bed, I began to visualize the long ago dream from my youth about crawling up my own DNA in its spiral staircase. Visions of two rattlesnakes dancing to their unheard rhythm in a mating dance or in a territory war or maybe both and never knowing which. What was up was down like an Escher painting. The X’s and the Y’s bounced back and forth telling me who I was and who I would become, where I had come from and where I was going. My own story and my map telling me that I would be ok. Telling me that this too shall pass and loss is inevitable as breathing… and breathing in and out and each moment is the only solution. Small steps and small continuous breaths. Over and over. Small and relaxed breathing. Measured breathing. In my dream, I started crying and letting go and releasing my sorrow from myself from the past for myself into the future. And the loss of tears, the loss of this energy flowed like waves. Simple waves just flowing and flowing and flowing.
I stayed in this aware but asleep state for what seemed like an endless amount of time. Everything made sense, but not quite. These waves happened repetitiously. So much so that I wasn’t sure if I was in a loop. Then I notice something different. I wasn’t sure if it was a glitch or if it was really variations on a theme so that nothing was really the same. All these waves were slightly different. Different breaks, different sizes at slightly different times. But almost all of these waves were so similar only a parent of twins would be able to notice the differences, except for that one wave. I watched that one wave flow in all the way. I walked into the water to greet it. To be in it. To be a part of it. To just let it flow. Flowing into me like sets lining up to become waves from the sea hitting the shore in endless repetition or like a river from its source all the way to its delta or mouth and I was the fertile crescent. Filling my emptiness right back up with patience, energy and love. So much emotional exhaustion, physical exhaustion and loneliness. So much emptiness in me that while it refueled me, I didn’t even notice her. She was that difference. She was my glitch. She was here for me.
Then before I knew it, there she was. She looked at me and whispered to me. I am here for you. When you need me I am here. I will always be here. She stood right in front of me. For a moment, she was energy, she was light. She was pink and white with many different shades. So many dimensions. Our four dimensions of x, y, z and time were rendered silly to this depth and I don’t think I understood much of it, except in my brief epiphanies. And the love that was shared and the energy given by her to help me take on another day. To take another small step. To draw another breath. To take care of her children. Our children. And let them take care of me. She then turned blue and white with so many varieties and shades and then back to pink and white. And then the colors switched to green and violet. Then in violet she stayed and glowed for me. I knew this was her favorite color while she was here. It was the color of her jacket and backpack when I first saw her, first met her way back when. The color of pansies. Through these many colors, shades and changes and her many dimensions, I don’t know how I recognized her. I still have no idea. But it was her.
And then she was form. Form like her, like my Michelle. Making sure there was no way I could miss her. She watched me and I watched her. From her heart flowed energy — into me — filling up my empty and broken heart. Repairing me. Fixing me. Helping me. Helping me get up and take another step. To draw that breath. To give me energy to measure my breaths so I could draw the many breaths that each day required. This energy was rhythmic, intelligent and organized in its movement. With so many different shapes and different dimensions. I continued crying in this dreamlike state. After a period of time, the energy slowed down. It was finite. The flow and its shapes finally stopped. All of this energy, all of this flow and light — they weren’t words, maybe not language as we know it, but it was communication and it was love and compassion. It was one loving source helping another sorrowful one.
I lay there in her spot in our bed in our bedroom. Not dreaming anymore. Nothing made sense. I was driving on a road trip with Michelle or at a swim meet with the kids. Was she still alive or was she dead? Where was I? Still disoriented and not quite awake. I lay there in her presence, holding onto her. Eventually she backed up and turned back into light or energy. I wasn’t sure if I really saw her anymore. I wasn’t sure if I had even seen her at all. Was it real? Was her mind still alive? It must be, right? But how? How does any of that make sense? Was my mind playing games with her memory or my memory of her? Was I communicating with her memory? Was my mind playing games with me? I didn’t know anymore. I lay there. Starting to wake up. But still lying on my side. Still in her space. Curtains open. Light from outside pressing on my shut eyes. I didn’t move. I still wanted her. I needed her. And I also knew this was everything she could give me. And so I let her go again. And I woke up crying and sobbing, yet strong again.
Since this first meditation, this dream, this vision quest, whatever you wish to call it, I have experienced it many times during naps on our couches or in the guest bedroom while napping and even in hotel rooms in Spain while traveling with the kids. In some cases, I flew around places from my past — took journey’s to places as far away as Europe while sleeping in Santa Monica. The answer is simple — they were just dreams. So easy to understand this experience that way. But they included journey’s to the tops of mountains and to a beach in southern France where Michelle and I traveled when we were young lovers. I also traveled to unexplained places that I have never been before, which could be my future or it could be past lives or just wild hallucinations or just beautiful dreams like we all experience every night. All throughout, I was not asleep. I was on the edge of sleep and awakeness. I could pull myself out of these moments and open my eyes. In fact, it always took great effort to keep my eyes closed and to stay focused on the moment and the beauty of this meditation. These moments did not always include Michelle but she was with me the great majority of the time. Other loved ones from my life helped me during these sorrowful moments (and we all have these loving sources to help us). Some of these people were actually alive, but most were dead. The experiences during these moments were so big and different than anything ever experienced in my life prior. Was any of it real? Were they all just coping mechanisms? Probably. Is this what life is like after death? So many questions, thoughts, and doubts. Without them, I am not sure if I would have been able to make it. All I know is, death, it really does make you think crazy thoughts. Wonderful thoughts.
