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Death as a Gift From Life/To life/ As Life

Our life is a poem -written backwards ( A little story from daily life of a mother basking in the embrace of the Great Mother - how deeply can we abide in this Bliss ?).

An intense wave of fear was felt yesterday as a close family member was rushed into hospital with a high risk of dying. I noticed the peace abiding here, as I hadn't felt fear in a long time.

Fear was arising in awareness, lovingly embraced; the tightness of my chest was inviting my stroking. It felt I was stroking a little child inside my heart.

Despite this intensity of fear, a sense of conviction emerged, a radical invitation to step up into a sense of power. The invitation was clear. I needed to devote time to send them some healing, yet there was resistance initially. After a short moment of allowing it all to be, I found myself in my sanctuary room, lighting my incense and candles , and preparing the ground.

It was a potent process, which I feel no need to elaborate on.

The message was clear. He ll get through. The experience was fully welcomed. The radical invitation into the unknown was life inviting itself back through this portal of liminality.

Moving around my home through that liminality ; the waiting time for the surgery to complete felt profound.

Time stood still.

This is not an unusual experience for me, but that time it had a different quality. It was almost as if the radical acceptance of anything occurring was really here, present.

Despite the fear, there was such a radical opening and embracing of the moment

Every inhale mattered

Every step of my feet was seen for what is

The earth was truly supporting each step of my bodily existence, on her body.

Deep gratitude was felt in my heart.

A visceral bodily recognition that the moment is the ONLY moment that IS.

How profoundly obvious yet we are often blinded to this magical beauty of our lives

It takes courage to live in the razor s edge

With a heart burst open

To fully enter the unknown. But here is an invitation...

courage for who ? Which is the "I" that ,thinks it needs courage ?

Could our lives being lived from this spacious place, and it being our norm ?

Do apple trees need courage to blossom ?

Do they need faith to provide us with all we need ?

Do they have expectations on us little humans ?

Does the sun chooses not to shine because there's rain and storms and lightening ?

My 8 year old saw me upset with tears in my eyes - which he often does - as there s no other way to be but with the heart wide open ; Living at the razors edge .

It was around settling time and he asked me if I would settle him and read him a story. My first response was no, "I dont feel I ll be fully with you darling , is it ok if Daddy reads you the story ?". And then I heard myself, in an instant closing my heart. This seeing was enough.

Seeing is the new knowing. Actions emerge from this place, at all times.

He said to me this a good idea mummy , and grabbed the book below " the giving apple tree" , which I recommend you read. It s wonderful. He continues " It’s in Greek so you might feel good if we read this ".

There was no doubt, life was inviting me back in( not that I ever leave life, but occasionally it appears that we do).

So here we are, im lying down in bed with him ; I was in what momentarily felt like two worlds ; Half of my brain of course was back home ; The other half with him.

Yet this inner schism is being witnessed from a spacious aware local-less place, which can hold it all.

As am observing how he kindly and with his pure innocent heart , offering this to me , I notice he too is living in a razor edge moment ; not knowing is this a good idea or not ; what answer will come.

"Of course I want to read for you I said

It d be beautiful time to spend together ; thank you so much for your kind heart , it is who you truly are".

And as I read this book… my tears can’t be helped , rivers of tears yet present in the story and the reading of it .Feeling fully alive and in deep knowing in how we re being co weaved , together by existence .

He s calmly accepting all that s occurring , no questions nor flinches ,; his inner compass knows that these tears are golden portals . There is no apology for me, but simply a being ness in the moment.

He felt the un conditionality of that tree deep in his heart . That tree was our blanket for the night - enveloping us in pure velvet loving embrace

What were the tears ?

As I sat with this inquiry, whilst the story was happening ; clarity arrived. Clarity is always at a breath's distance, if we allow the clouds to simply pass by.

My tears of grief for our story of separation as humankind

The deep deep visceral sadness for this global wound that perpetuates wars and keeps us apart

From each other

In that moment ;

I was the tree

I was the man who forgot to play with life and got side tracked with the tyranny of “more”

I felt one and deep love for our innocent forgetting

Whilst these tears were falling the inquiry was alive -

"I’m curious what s the message behind such intense expression " the God's mind wondered. and I kept quite, remaining open- I deeply bow and clearly recognise the moments where subtlety of existence whispers through our soul even amidst deep suffering : in fact it’s those times we re lost “open”-

And then the message landed - of course !

Of course ! The tree / life isn’t gifting us ONLY love

It s greatest gift is Death. Death IS the ultimate gift this pure unconditional well of existence had gifted back to itself

I, as consciousness, not separate from anyone and anything, i feel such deep of unconditionality that I have gifted myself Death, to awake me back into Love. The place I never departed.

Embracing / love is embracing death

The two are not separate

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