Mom! You're Dead!

I remember how it all got started. I firmly believe in reincarnation because of my vivid dreams that are so lucid and emotional. I used to feel maybe it was a curse to see too much, but in the long run it really does help to grow into a wiser person, to love God? Whatever we call God. It's gotta be personal and I think each person has their story to tell, sooner or later about what they think God is exactly. It's like trying to find the edges of infinity..no can do.

But share self reflections? Yes! We can. Humanity is a family. Families share. If you wanna hint on who I am, I guess it doesn't matter that much really, but I like this little saying I read "God wants spiritual fruits, not religious nuts."

That's me in a nutshell. Anyhoo, this is one of my favorite mystical experiences to share. I need to tell you how it began, just a little detail. I had assassinated mother in another life, regretted it and came back in this life as her rejected child in order to undo my error. I don't feel like this life was forced on me, however as a child I remember thinking these are not my real family members. I'd wished I wasn't born to them.

Kinda strange thoughts for a kid. I was always trying to get mother's love but had to give up on that idea somewhere along the line. All this other life stuff is necessarily subconscious until one is ready to see the truth.

Like they say, the truth hurts. I did do my best for her. One day I knew she was going to die of cancer as there she was; in my living room telling me she was going to the hospital that very night for exploratory surgery. For one thing, it was goodbye. That's what it was. She never came to see me. So she was saying goodbye to this lifetime.

What I call God I now call Spirit. Just seems simpler, more easy to contact Spirit than to contact God. I had been in a bookstore looking for a book of my interests. I had no idea why I was buying a book which claimed to cure cancer. I was interested in herbs and natural healing, but this book was rather technical, large and didn't offer the quick cure we Americans generally seek. Yet I brought it home, then put it on the shelf knowing full well I'd never read it.

Then mother was sitting there with death all over her, a slightly brave look trying to make her face smile. I ran for the book, seeing this was my chance to make up to her what I'd done in another life. However, I still was not aware of our previous drama at this point.

To make a long story short, she took the cure from the book. It was a wholly natural approach and it shrank all of her tumors. Spirit did that. I was just the hand that bought the book. It's the Gerston Therapy. Poor Dr. Gerston, run out of town for advocating carrot juice.

Yea, she was given 3 months to live. She lived about 35 more years; after using the method. She had other ailments occur with old age, but not the cancer. I figured I might have had something to do with her living 35 more years, and that maybe in that other life, those were the number of years I'd taken from her then.

More than returning to her some years; along about the time when I was 55 and she around 80, she asked if she could come stay with me. I thought it was my chance to finally have a real relationship with her and we lived together 3 yrs. We finally got it right.

Yet we needed Spirit to help us. Spirit came through. That was the time I was shown the vision of having taken her life in some other place and time. There was no way I was gonna tell her about it. I would just do right by her as best I could and it was one day at a time as usual.

Still, she wasn't a happy camper with me. I asked Spirit where she would be happier and I got the idea she needed the rest of her family around her; the more the merrier, so I took her home after 3 yrs stay with me.

Right there at the end she looked at me sad one day and said "I know I didn't treat you right when you were growing up."

She'd never said anything like that to me before. It was like she trying to apologize for all those times a little girl had reached out to her and been shoved away. Her husband, (not my genetic father) had molested me. I had told her about it and she had done nothing to protect me. Even as a 5 yr. old, I knew I was strictly on my own here in this miserable life. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy now, and I feel accomplished in the happy dept. I figure learning how to be happy in this world, is like a major accomplishment that has nothing to do with a college degree.

I know we don't walk alone. We have invisible helpers that I call Spirit. They too, are Good beings. Good is related to God. All together, we are a part of the wholeness of God. Remember Goodness. Remember God. Remember Spirit, then that makes you happy. I've also had more than a few religious type lives. This life is mystic. I don't like religion much. It scares me what it's done to some of my friends who were force fed dogma of misinterpreted religious stuff.

In your heart, in your spirit, you will know the truth. That's my 2 cents. When mother attempted this apology, she released me from needing her love. All the pain of the years receded away from me like she'd popped a balloon in my soul. Swoosh! Out came the dark feelings of being unloved, of wanting a relationship with her, for her to forgive all of that crap we went through. I felt love for her efforts now. I forget what I said. Something like, it's all over. I don't think about it now mother. I could never tell her why she'd treated me badly. She might start hating me again if I did. Mother had set me free now but she didn't know it exactly, not consciously.

Moments like that just made me love her with the biggest God-love I could muster up. Does the victim always set the perpetrator free? I have no idea. I'm telling just one story of two people out of 6 million stories. All I know is my soul was set free and I came back with some idea it wasn't going to be a piece of cake for me in this life, to pay off a debt.

Continuing on the whole scene I just decribed above, it caused a mystical soul journey. While taking mother home one night in a motel room I felt like I died. I had mixed feelings about taking mom home. I'd expected she would stay with me until she died and I would be the dutiful daughter until the end and pay off my debt to her this way. However, I couldn't make her happy. She had other children that did make her happy, so my job was to deliver her to them, and I just wasn't completely certain Spirit had told me correctly, that I was to take her home. Now I was to return home where I would live all alone and I'd have to build a new life, as my life was mostly concerned with our relationship for the last 3 yrs. We were finally reaching some sort of truce between us. I didn't know but thought I was going to be one lonely person when I got home and with virtually no purpose in life.

Here's how I met God. I mean Spirit? Well, God is not a man. It was a formless God. I'll start from the beginning.

Sometime later I realized a part of me did die. The daughter part died. Mother and I were no longer mother and daughter. Only in the DNA we were that. In our spirits, we had slipped on roles on the earth plane. The roles were finished and we were still alive in our bodies. So it was a little strange to say the least.

I floated into some shadowy land. I couldn't for the life of me remember who I was or where I came from, but here I was, floating along and now, where was I, and where should I go? I just kept floating hoping I'd discover something. I saw vague forms of people, I floated through walls like I was used to doing that. I had no objective exactly, but I had this sense of adventure, a certain hopefulness that somebody, somewhere needed me.

That I had something to give. Not sure what, but I did have ideals and I liked to communicate, even if I had amnesia, there was nothing to do but find others who would let me join them. I did not think about that I was dead. I just felt like a free spirit. I felt good that I had no problems, but I knew I had to find something to do with myself, and this is a lot like real, physical life, we have to sacrifice our boredom and find an interest in life, or we might just waste away in our spirits and truly die if the attitude takes ahold of us and depression takes over. Ask any retired person; they know what I'm getting at.

I watched somebody watching TV then floated away, a little disgusted they weren't interested in being anything but a spectator of life. I found a table with what appeared to be some intellectuals discussing world events perhaps along with principles of a spiritual nature I hoped, and it seemed I could fill in something there that was missing from the talk.

As I started with my speech, words overflowing and earnestness thereof, enjoying my self expression as it were, I realized only one of the players could vaguely see and hear me. His mouth flew open in shock and he explained to the others there was now a ghost in the room.

I had an idea I was on the wrong level then and I grew disheartened and floated away wondering how I was gonna get on the right level but still not suspecting I had died.

There was simply no place to go. If I was a ghost it was going to most certainly be difficult to communicate with physical beings. I hung my head while I floated and blinked out for a second. I just gave up the fight. There was something that told me whatever I was to do next, I was gonna need some help and there was no obvious help in sight.

As I blinked out, a current or something took hold of me and placed me in the area where my daughter lived. I floated over her shoulder as she was washing dishes. I spoke to a part of her mind which knew I was really there. We can just call it the subconscious or intuitive part.

I said "hon, something strange has happened and other people can not longer discern me, when I speak and they think I'm a ghost. What's wrong with me?"

"Mom, she said crying, while continuing to do dishes, you're dead!"

Somewhere in my being I felt exactly like I was at a gong show and just been gonged after I had thought my performance was acceptable.

She had spoken the words I most needed to hear! It's called a retrieval when someone tells you that you're dead. Check out Bruce Moen and Robert Monroe's or Gordon Phinn's books on this phenomenon called a retrieval.

Now I could surmise why I was on the wrong level and could not be seen nor heard except by the very sensitive, or family members who you have a love bond with.

I told my daughter I had to leave then. I had to go find out what my new life assignment was going to be. Only God could tell me this. In this experience, my conception of God was it was something far more intelligent than myself. I saw God as a being in my mind, but not as a singular individual, except that pieces of God were in all of us. This I'm certain of; even as a child I was certain of that.

Next without a sense of much movement in my being I was shooting up. Like a shooting star. Very fast, like the speed of beyond Light. I just knew God was there somewhere as I couldn't stay here; I had no purpose here.

My job was done with mother. All karma cleared. I'd succeeded. I'd played my role. All suffering was done and I was going home, wherever home was. I cast my fate to the wind. It was like I thought this person whom I thought I was might be erased from the universe as never having been, except in some Akashic record perhaps.

I still didn't remember mother at that point and didn't recall any of my life I'd just lived. I fully trusted the ride I was on and there was no effort on my part to get anywhere. Whatever I was, I was in a current that took care of people, took them to their rightful places, whether that was like a 2nd death, you really had no say in it. You were on a conveyor belt, it was fun for the moment, and all you had was trust in the warmth. I could remember my kid crying, and in her tears, was her love for me. Part of the ride was pure joy too. Like a celebration that I was going home and would never suffer again, and maybe I would stay there, or maybe "I" would cease to be.

God was up there somewhere and there was no place else to go.

The love part was very important. I knew this too. Yet I knew little else. I was in my experience of self.

I reached something like rapture or ecstasy state and blinked out once more. Then I was among a group of people of like-minded people, others who did retrievals like me, or who were in some facet of the healing arts. I realized I'd received my new assignment and that God had not annihilated me after all. The feeling was then one of jubilance and I felt I was up to the task at hand, wherever that would take me.

I was welcomed and "recognized" by the group as if they'd known me forever and I'd been gone a number of earth years and they'd expected my return all this time. This surprised me somewhat but was certainly a welcome feeling after having been like a ghost that didn't even know it was a ghost.

When I woke in the morning after this death experience, I just lie there for a minute trying to get my bearings as to where I was. Wasn't I just in my new life? What was this motel? Then I remembered, oh, I was driving mother home. I'd gone to sleep and died. Now I was alive, I had a new life, a 2nd chance!

Then I had been sent back to Earth! A new assignment. A new person free of karma. A free spirit, so to speak.

Suddenly looking at the sun was wonderful. Walking was wonderful. It was just so great to be alive. It still is. Although I do forget some of these mystical journeys, they remain a part of who and what I am.

In all your getting, get love. This is the truth that will set you free.