by susantara | Oct 30, 2016 | Bereavement, Engaging the Magic |
There have been some mighty strange goings-on in my world since my dad died three weeks ago. This post is just in time for Halloween, although the timing was not at all intentional. I’m sharing my experiences in as straightforward a manner as possible so you can draw your own conclusions. Be sure to read all the way to the end!
1. Technical Difficulties
There have been a plethora of problems with electronics. (And no, Mercury hasn’t been retrograde.) Three different keys to two different cars haven’t worked at certain times, and I’ve had unprecedented phone connection issues. While creating the photo slideshow for my dad’s funeral services, I experienced a series of at least 20 bizarre technical glitches that I’d never encountered before. And last week, this very blog sent out a post from several months ago to email subscribers without any action on my part. I didn’t even know it was possible to resend an old post and was surprised to see it in my inbox!
2. Lights Out
My daughter and son were in town for my dad’s funeral two weeks ago, and after the service, we met at my house before they went their separate ways, back to Georgia and the NYC area. As they were leaving, I turned on the light on the side of the house so they could see better as they drove away. I went to bed just before 10:00 and fell asleep instantly. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I glanced at my phone to see what time it was and noticed a text my husband sent at 10:22 PM asking me to turn out that light. He was sleeping in the RV, and the light was bothering him. So I went downstairs to turn off the light but saw that it was already off. I assumed he had come inside and turned it off himself. The next morning, I asked him about it and explained that I didn’t receive his text until the middle of the night. He was really surprised because no sooner had he sent that text, and the light went out. It went out so immediately that he found it odd because he wasn’t even sure he’d had time to hit “send”. I also found it odd but didn’t want to jump to conclusions and suspected the lightbulb might have blown out at an uncanny time. So I went over to the light switch and was surprised to find it in the “off” position. As soon as I flipped the switch, the light went on – so it hadn’t burned out after all. It just happened to turn off at the exact moment when Jack requested that I turn it off.
3. Swirling Mist
My dad passed away in the morning. That evening when I was at my parents’ house with one other person, we saw a swirl of mist traveling around the kitchen, followed by a significant drop in temperature in the room we were sitting in. At the funeral service at the church a week later, something caught my eye as I greeted the continuous line of people coming to pay their respects. Again, I saw a white mist moving around high above us. It was an overcast/rainy afternoon, and it wasn’t caused by sunlight coming through the windows.
4. Clock Works
Last night’s experience took the cake. After spending the whole day at my parents’ house with my sister, I was alone there in the evening finishing up some work on my laptop at the dining room table. The chair I was sitting in had become uncomfortable, so I moved to the couch in the living room. When I sat down on the couch, I looked at my dad’s empty chair – the chair he always sat in – and said out loud sadly, “There’s no more dad here to talk to.”
Just then, the grandfather clock – which hadn’t worked in years – made a soft, chiming sound from across the room. It was not on the hour (6:05 – not the correct time), and I hadn’t heard that clock all day or for a really long time – months or even years, for that matter. The chime sent chills down my spine. Alarmed, I texted two close relatives, and right after sending my text, the clock chimed again. Then I noticed my cell phone battery was getting low, so I got up to retrieve my phone charger. When I walked through the kitchen, I heard a fast, ticking sound that I hadn’t heard before then. It sounded like it was coming from the direction of the cuckoo clock in the family room. When I went closer, I realized the cuckoo clock – which hadn’t worked in decades – was ticking! Again, this was a clock that had been dormant for a long time, and it just started ticking all of a sudden. At this point, I was quite spooked! Not just one, but two clocks had come alive simultaneously!
Even though I was startled and shaking, I sat back down on the couch to see if I could become still enough to pick up on any messages that might be trying to come through. I said, “OK, you have my attention!” and became still and silent, imagining white light surrounding me and filling the room. Then I heard my dad’s voice inside my head. He sounded happy and spoke in the voice he used when he was relaying a funny story or a story of something peculiar that had happened to him (like when my mom’s grandfather came to him in a dream shortly after he died, and when my mom came to him in a dream some time after she died). He said he was with my mom…AND THEN THE CUCKOO CLOCK CUCKOOED FROM THE FAMILY ROOM!!!!
It seemed he wanted me to pass along a message to my sister, who was at his bedside constantly for the last 14 or so hours of his life and was quite shaken by the whole experience. I said out loud to confirm, “So you want me to tell her…” And then the cuckoo clock cuckooed again!
At that point, my shaking hands texted another relative to ask if she’d experienced anything at the house, and she texted me back, saying she had experienced something with the cuckoo clock and her cell phone playing a tune (ringtone) she’d never heard it play before when she sat in my dad’s chair, which really freaked her out.
So it wasn’t just me.
Even though I still felt alarmed, I had to laugh because it was comforting to feel that my parents were there with me and to think of how entertaining or gratifying it must be to make the clocks go off. It seemed to me that making the clocks sound was like making the telephone ring and wondering if somebody would pick up and answer at the other end. And I did.
I continued to have a conversation with my dad in which I told him that I’ll do my best to listen if he tries to get in touch with me and that dreams are usually a good way to communicate if he knows how to do that. Then I told him that I’m going to get going now…and the cuckoo clock cuckooed again!
When I stood up to leave, the (landline) phone rang, and I was afraid to answer it! But I did. Nobody was on the line when I answered. No clicks or anything. Just silence. I said hello at least three times before hanging up. I had been at the house for more than eight hours, and the phone hadn’t rung a single time until that moment when I got up to leave.
After leaving the house, I called my daughter to share the experience with her, and she reminded me that the only other time she’d heard the cuckoo clock sound was right after my mom passed away. I’d forgotten about that. But at the time, it seemed like a big deal.
So, how do you explain THAT? I’m not committed to the notion that hearing my dad’s voice inside my head was actual after-death communication, although that might be the significance I ultimately attribute to it. It could be me working things out inside my own head. Conversations with my higher self. Wishful thinking. Or…who knows what? The way I see it, if you can arrive at some kind of resolution, answer, or insight that truly feels right in your heart and leaves you feeling at peace, it doesn’t matter where it came from. It is part of your healing and growth. I can’t claim to fully understand what I experienced. I certainly know what it felt like and am open to other explanations and possibilities. But in the end, the meaning I make of it is my own, and all I know for sure is that it’s part of my experience and that it left me with a sense of hope, comfort, and peace once I got over the initial shock.
5. Dream Time
On the morning of that same day, I had an intriguing dream in which I was standing on a bridge and was drawn to stunning orange foliage on trees across the river. Then I noticed the trees moving together in a strange way: First the branches stretched out to the sides and then moved upwards so the foliage was a little higher up from the ground. The trees went through the same movements a couple more times, and each time the leaves traveled higher up toward the sky.
When I woke up from that dream, I felt a little peculiar. I recalled three other dreams I’d had of nature acting in a bizarre way that captured my attention and felt that something was attempting to get through to me. I sensed it might have had something to do with my dad. It wasn’t until I told my sister about the dream later in the day that I realized I was standing on a bridge in the dream. The dreams I’ve had of contact with deceased loved ones always have some kind of boundary like that.
So when I had the experience with the clocks later that day, the dream felt even more significant. I told a couple of friends about my experience and explained, “Well, it’s the time of year when the veil is thin” and recalled writing an article with that title last year at this time. This morning, I pulled up that post and was astounded to read about a similar dream that also began when I noticed beautiful autumn trees.
To be honest, I wasn’t really thinking of sharing these experiences until I read that post from last year and remembered that sharing my experiences is something I need to keep finding the courage to do without worrying about being judged because that kind of sharing is my path. Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinions and theories, and I’m just sharing my experiences without any embellishments or exaggerations, in case it’s helpful to anyone. I’ll let you decide what to make of them.
© 2016 Susan Meyer. All rights reserved. To use any or all of this article, include this exactly: Susan Meyer (SusanTaraMeyer.com) is a photographer, writer, clutter coach, feng shui consultant, and mindfulness teacher whose work is infused with a deep interest in the nature of mind and appreciation of the natural world. She lives on the Hudson River in Upstate New York.
by susantara | Nov 2, 2015 | Bereavement, Engaging the Magic |
Today is the third and final day of a stretch of festivals and traditions that focus on remembering and honoring the dead. In addition to being Halloween, Saturday was also Samhain, a festival celebrated by Witches, Druids, Wiccans, and Pagans. According to tradition, this is a time when boundaries between this world and the afterworld are blurred, and spirits can pass through more easily. Today is the Christian (mostly Catholic) observance of All Souls’ Day, a time to remember and pray for deceased loved ones. Meanwhile, Latin American communities are celebrating Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead). These special days are celebrated by praying for departed loved ones, constructing alters and making food offerings to honor deceased ancestors, visiting cemeteries, holding costume parades, and participating in other rituals to honor the dead.
Today is also my daughter’s 21st birthday. She is expecting her first child – a daughter – in exactly three months.
What do you get when these various celebrations are taking place, and the veil between the living and the dead is believed to be thin? A mighty interesting dream. I woke up from it about an hour ago. I had intended to write about something else today, but that will have to wait.
The dream began with me looking at the sky as the sun was setting and the moon was rising. Something about the moon and clouds hovering just above colorful autumn trees commanded my attention. The clouds seemed to be fluttering more like a flock of white birds flying as a single unit than as clouds would normally appear. I was transfixed. Then the moon and the surrounding clouds suddenly shot up much higher in the sky, and I sensed some kind of message was about to come through.
The clouds started forming numbers and words. (Now it was a blue, daytime sky, not a nighttime sky.) It seemed to begin with lots of numbers that meant something, followed by, “Hi Susan. How are you?” It was like the blue sky was a chalkboard being written on at super-speed and then erased, and then another message would appear and disappear. The clouds kept forming words, and so many messages were coming through, in such rapid succession! I was aware that I was being given relevant information and messages to pass on and tried to remember as much of it as I could. It definitely seemed to be my mom writing messages for me in the sky.
Then I “woke up” from that into a more “normal” level of dreaming, in which I was telling others about the dream and trying to remember the messages to record in my dream journal. When I finally woke up from dreaming for real, I was breathing loudly (as if I had been startled) and was disappointed because I was unable to recall virtually any of the content! It was as if the content was erased from my memory as I returned through layers of consciousness. But I do feel that a “happy birthday” message came through for my daughter during the sky-writing. (I remember a small portion of it looking like the writing on a birthday cake.) There was also important information about my life and messages for others. It feels like it was information I’m either not supposed to or ready to remember consciously but received at some other level. Some part of me is aware of it.
I write about this because my intuition has guided me all along to share my experiences following my mom’s death. Also, a psychic medium told a close relative that my mom is aware that I am writing about her in a public forum and thinks it is a good thing because it can help people. But psychic or not, I would do it anyway because it feels right.
The cloud-writing presence in the dream seems related to a voice I mentioned in my previous blog post. Two weekends ago, I opened my eyes early in the morning and saw bands of color that suggested the sunrise was going to be a captivating one. But I was tired and determined to resist getting out of my warm, cozy bed on such a chilly morning. After all, I take sunrise photographs all the time, all year long. What would it matter if I skipped this one? I decided I would be okay with missing the sunrise that morning even if it turned out to be dazzling. So I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
But a few minutes later, a female voice inside my head asked, “Did you see it? Did you let it fill you?” It persisted until I finally opened my eyes again (knowing what that would mean). Sure enough, I was unable to resist the magnificent colors that were now at peak on the canvas of the sky and reflected on the river below. A minute later, I was standing on the dock with my camera.
I’ve learned that it’s always worth it to listen to that voice.
And it turns out that the photograph I took of that sunrise has received more positive responses online than any photo I’ve shared previously.
I am convinced that the veil really has been thin lately. My daughter, who never dreams of my mom, had three dreams of her in the past week or so. She can’t recall the dream messages, either. But amazing things tend to happen when we share what we do recall and experience.
For example, my dad recently shared a dream of my mom. In the dream, she suddenly appeared in the living room. After a brief, nonverbal communication, she turned to walk back up the stairs to return to the room where she had been resting. (There is almost always a staircase or doorway involved in such dreams.) Hearing about the dream gave me goosebumps. But the next day, I remembered it and shared it with someone else. Right in the middle of doing so, a bald eagle circled overhead twice and then flew away – which is significant because there is a belief shared by some relatives that my mom appears as a bald eagle. And I looked at the clock and noticed it was 11:11 – a time that is highly significant to me (in part because my son was born on 11-11).
When you put all of that together, it goes beyond goosebumps and convinces me that when we share our experiences, we discover that there is even more to them than we realized! This is especially true for me because most of my relatives are quite skeptical when it comes to anything “supernatural”. So when I share what I experience, it reinforces their intuitions and inklings that might have made them go hmmm but then were more or less shrugged off or otherwise minimized. It’s like each of us has a different piece of the puzzle, and when we put our pieces together, we see more of the picture and elevate the hmmm to a full-blown WOW!
So that is what I have to report on this morning of my daughter’s birthday, All Souls’ Day, and the Day of the Dead, when it seems the veil between worlds really is thin!
© 2015 Susan Meyer. All rights reserved. To use any or all of this blog post, include this exactly: Susan Meyer (SusanTaraMeyer.com) is a photographer, writer, clutter coach, feng shui consultant, and mindfulness mentor whose work is infused with a deep interest in the nature of mind and appreciation of the natural world. She lives on the Hudson River in Upstate New York.
by susantara | Jun 18, 2015 | Bereavement, Engaging the Magic |
Last night, I did something I’d never done before: I attended a group session with a psychic medium. And it was mind-blowing. I hadn’t planned to do it, but it’s interesting how the universe works.
It all began with a visit from a luna moth Sunday night.
I was doing some work on the porch that evening. Before going to bed, I put everything away and proceeded to shut the porch windows. As I approached the last window, I noticed a lovely, emerald-toned luna moth about five inches wide, with elegant, feathery antennae, suspended on the screen. She seemed to be looking at me, waiting for me to notice. I gasped with amazement.
I’d never seen a luna moth before and had wanted to ever since reading Eric Carle’s picture book, The Very Quiet Cricket, to my children when they were young. Even though I was quite tired, I took out my gear and spent the next 45 minutes photographing the luna moth from inside and outside the porch.
It felt like a very special visit, and before I turned out the lights, I pressed my hands together in a prayerful gesture, bowed to the luna moth, and thanked her for visiting.
Then I did something I never do, not knowing why: I woke up Jack to tell him there was a luna moth on the porch window. It was action driven by pure intuition. And then he did something he doesn’t normally do: Instead of grouching at me for disturbing his sleep, he sat up and, in an interested tone of voice asked, “Really?” I was surprised that he wanted to see the luna moth. Unbeknownst to me, before he fell asleep, he saw a picture of one online and thought strongly about how much he wants to see one because he never had before. He fell asleep with the picture of the luna moth on his phone and thoughts of it in his head. In addition, he had an experience during the day that brought to mind someone named Luna. So when he saw the luna moth on the porch – right next to the table where he does his spiritual reading and writing every morning – it was very powerful and significant for him. The next day, after he explained the significance to me, I summed it up by saying that what we are seeking is also seeking us.
I went to work in the morning, and a woman who was a substitute teacher in the building had some free time and was sent to my classroom to help out. After the children went to lunch, we talked for a while. We’d conversed once earlier in the year when she was helping in my classroom. I sensed we were on a similar wavelength and told her I had a story to share with her that I thought she’d understand. So I told her about the luna moth on the window screen, and she got the significance of it. The conversation deepened, and she asked me if I’d ever been to a psychic medium. She planned to attend a session later in the week and thought I might be interested in going and wrote down the information. The way she spoke of him gave me a good feeling. Even though it was an incredibly busy week with report cards due, my intuition nudged me to go.
So I did, along with my adult daughter, an open mind, and no expectations. When the psychic medium, Adam, entered the freshly smudged room filled with the earthy fragrance of sage, I felt immediately drawn to his gentle, loving, joyful energy. No ego! As he explained the process to us before beginning, the electricity went out – something which apparently hadn’t happened there before! It’s often said that disembodied spirits are able to manipulate electricity, and I felt the presence of spirits was strong.
The session lasted for two and a half hours, and there were probably 20 women (interestingly, no men) in attendance. An hour and a half into it, nobody had “come through” for me, and we took a brief break. I went to the deserted second floor to use the bathroom and whispered, “Come on, Mom! Where are you?” In my mind, I heard her say, “I’m here! I’m just waiting my turn.” And that would be so like her – to stand back graciously and allow others to go first. She was never one to push her way to the front.
When the session resumed, Adam led us through a meditation to help us connect with loved ones who have passed on. My grandmother came through first, followed by my mom. (They were the same two who came to my daughter, seated next to me.) I asked each of them a question and received an answer. Then Adam went back to connecting with the spirits who were gathered to communicate through him. At one point, I heard my mom’s voice inside my head say, “I’m next!” and my heart began to pound. Then Adam said my sister’s name and mentioned a young boy with a musical connection. He said “she” (the spirit) was with him a lot. He said he saw an acoustic guitar, and I knew it was my mom coming through, so I spoke up.
For the next 10-15 minutes, so much information came through to my daughter and me from my mom and my grandmother! It seemed like my grandmother was there but letting my mom do the talking – which was often the case during their earthly existence. I am not going to relate specific information, but the content that came through via images, words, and the “language” of intuition was astonishingly accurate and meaningful. (I hadn’t provided any personal information beforehand other than my first name when I signed in.)
Adam described features of a landscape I had been to recently and said that my mom had been there with me. He quoted – word for word – something my son had said to me three days prior about the ways in which my mom and I are alike and different. He knew my mom died of cancer and said she’d had it for two years then immediately corrected himself because he saw her bring her hands closer together in a “shortening” gesture and said she had it for two years but only knew about it for a few months. He referenced that I make “good bread” (which is true) and said that she (or my grandmother?) is with me when I make bread.
In addition to seeing an acoustic guitar, he saw an airplane and a theater stage. If I could illustrate my mom’s life in three symbols, those would be the ones I’d choose. She was passionate about learning to play guitar during the final years of her life, had a career as a flight attendant early in life, and enjoyed a long career working at a performing arts center for 35 years, until retiring only a few years before she died. She and my dad met when they both worked for the airlines and always loved to travel. For her funeral services, the three objects on the altar (as per her instructions) were her guitar, her flight attendant hat, and an autographed baton given to her by her favorite conductor.
Adam explained that my mom is still very strong around me because I talk to her frequently, and she wanted me to know that I need not worry about these conversations keeping her earthbound because it’s perfectly healthy and fine, and she has free will to come and go. That really spoke to me because when I have my conversations with her – out loud if I’m alone or inside my head if I’m not – I often tell her that I don’t want to pull her back here. I worry that missing her so much or trying to communicate with her will prevent her from moving on to where she needs to be. So this seemed to be a direct response from her to my very sincere concerns about that. Adam didn’t say this to anyone else in the room.
The experience leaves me convinced that Adam truly was in touch with a dimension in which our deceased loved ones continue to exist. I could write many more paragraphs about the content that came through – meaningful and relevant content, including specific messages to my daughter and me and details about us that very few people are aware of. However, it would be difficult to truly understand the potency of it without experiencing the energy in the room. That is something I can’t convey verbally. I’ve continued to process the experience for the past 24 hours, making connections and remembering more details. One connection I didn’t make until this morning was that right when the energy was shifting from someone else to my daughter and me, Adam saw the image of a butterfly and said that when certain animals are around you, the spirit of your loved one is with you.
The luna moth!
The same luna moth that led me to Adam’s group session in the first place, when I followed my intuition and shared the encounter with someone I barely knew.
© Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all text and photos, without express and written permission from this website’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Susan Meyer and River Bliss Photography (susantarameyer.com) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.