‘Transitions’

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‘Transitions’ became the first of many poems I continue to write regarding the transfer of the soul from this world. For me, it is not about religion. It is not about science. It is about faith in the Universe. It is about the nature of things. It’s about energy.

Much has been written about this topic. Energy does not disappear, but evolves into another form. I believe this to be true of all living creatures, including humans, animals, and plants. I believe it to be true of all elements that make up our world.

Birth and death and everything in between are natural progressions of life. It is so interesting how happy we are when a baby is born and how sad we are when a loved one dies. This is natural.

Though inevitable as life itself, death in our culture carries a certain habit of fear of the unknown for the dying and an enormous feeling of loss and abandonment for those left behind. It challenges us no matter that our religious beliefs or faith-based spirituality prepares us for all of it. This is a deep disconnect in our beliefs and psyche. Not all cultures are so disconnected.

When my own parents passed, I knew in my heart they had a long and (mostly) happy life. They were elderly. I knew their time was coming and mentally prepared myself. I also know my mother was afraid. I felt her fear in her last hug. She did not want to let me go. This was three weeks before she transitioned.

Grief takes on many forms and is as individual as each of us. There is no right way to grieve. I became extremely ill right after mom died and was bedridden for two days with a fever and cough that would not quit.

Their deaths still hit me like a fist in the stomach. It was my longing for them that brought me grief. They had been in my life forever. I missed them deeply.

Elephants and other creatures show grief and loss. This has been well documented. I watched tearfully as a young doe grieved for her sister I had just shot during hunting season many years ago. I can still hear her bleating when I think about it. I felt like a horrible person for having killed her. I haven’t picked up a weapon since.

What I have learned in life is that grief is a necessary process. It takes the time it takes. We cry, feel lost and alone, cry some more, and eventually move forward. This is key to healing, but being stuck in grief is no way to live our lives. Our loved ones would never want us to remember and honor them in this way, though some of us just cannot move past it. Our lives become crippled by death.

‘Transitions’ was written for a coworker a few years ago who lost someone. I believe that the spirit never dies. I believe energy always transforms into something else. Our universe is made of energy in flux, always moving and changing. We are no different from the world around us. We are part of the endless cosmos.

When the time comes, I hope I will welcome it, but I might fight death. I really don’t know until I’m in the moment. I don’t feel afraid to die, but that does not mean I want to die. I intend to cross the veil in my sleep approximately two to three decades from now. Peacefully. I fully expect a smooth transition.

When I die, I know I will see my loved ones again. I’ve had dreams and visions of our reunion. All family, friends, and pets will be the welcoming committee, with the pets out front. They are the unconditional lovers. It will be a coming home party of the grandest kind.

Death? Eh, it happens, just like birth. I didn’t fret about coming into this world and I’m not going to fret about exiting from it. I’m going to embrace the possibility of change, of transitioning into something new. A rebirth of spirit. It’s the only way I know how to live.

What about you?  I’d really like to read about your thoughts and insights about transitioning. Thanks for reading.

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Backstory

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fly high up in the sky

My blog is all about delving into the backstory of my poems. There is always a history behind the words that helps bring them to life. When You Look Up: Selection of Poems Vol. 1 will be published soon. In my free time I have written and rewritten my poems, covering a span of several years. Some of the poems are deep, some a little dark and some just for fun.

Writing is a process which sometimes easily morphs into a perfect complete piece and other times it just doesn’t seem to fit. I end up putting a poem aside for weeks, tweaking a few words here and there and repeating the process, many, many times.
Much like lather, rinse, repeat, poetry doesn’t feel right until the soul becomes squeaky clean again. A poem culminates in a great sense of satisfaction when the words flow perfectly through the pen, onto the page and off the tongue.

Like all things in our universe, words are energy. They contain a certain vibration. I became fascinated with energy and electrons and waves. In the 60s I read about Marie Curie and radioactivity. Since that time, I have learned from many wise writers.

Wayne Dyer shared with me how to, “Stop being offended.” Louise Hay informed me in her book, “You Can Heal Your Life.” I have learned from Robert Maurer how to take, “One Small Step.” I have learned from Byron Katie how to do, “The Work” of self-inquiry.

Mike Dooley showed me that, “Thoughts Become Things.” I have learned from Diane Zimberoff how to, “Break Free From the Victim Trap.” These are just a few of the most important messages in my life, all received through the written word. Words are energy.

In the 70s I read Carlos Castaneda and a book about crystal energy. In the 80s I learned how to meditate with Transcendental Meditation. In the 90s my world turned sideways. I learned that my choices would hold a potential for consequences beyond my limited understanding and reasoning.

Now I know if it were not for everything I have learned and done in my life, I would not be right here now, writing this. I would not be a published author. I do not wish to change a thing about my past. I’m happy to have traveled it and come away smiling.

In 2001 I learned that my country was no longer the safety net I had believed it was. Like most other Americans, I reeled in anguish for the lost souls in New York City.

In 2009 I attended an I Can Do It seminar in Tampa, Florida. Robert Holden took the stage. During his talk, he looked right at me when he said, “Your heart did not break. It was your ego.” My mouth dropped as the realization of truth took hold of me. I soon began to notice my writing journals taking a turn in a new direction: one of contentment and joy. I placed quotes on my mirror reminding me that I could do it.

In 2013 I became an Infinite Possibilities Trainer. I intended for many years, perhaps most of my life when I think back now, on becoming a writer. Now I am and I want to share what I have learned with others.

Poetry is ultimately for the reader, not the writer. Like art, many differing interpretations take place when you allow your mind the time necessary to read slowly, your body room to breathe in the words and your soul to ponder them deliberately. Reading poetry is like a slow dance: it must not be hurried, but instead savored through a certain rhythm that matches the beat of the music within the words.

Each blog post will cover the essence in each of my poems, in sequential order.
I enjoy sharing insights and ideas either on this public blog or in private email.