What are your thoughts on death? Do you believe you aren’t afraid of death? It’s common to hear people say they aren’t, but are they really immune? Are they truly okay with taking their last breath, with leaving everyone they love behind? Are you?
We are living through demanding times. People are stressed beyond their body’s ability to adapt. It is no longer unusual to hear about someone’s health challenges, some of which are serious enough to eject them from the game, permanently. We have empathy. We care and help when we can. We think we know how we would feel, what we would do in their place, but can we really understand what they are going through?
When Ken was diagnosed with cancer I was with him every step of the way and believed that I deeply felt his experience. I didn’t. I couldn’t have. Until I went through it myself I could not know what it is like to have the immediacy of a death sentence.
What’s interesting is that no matter how many times I go through what appears to be a last breath moment something remains that wants to live. For me it is no longer fear. I’ve had many opportunities to see through my fear of death. It feels more like a basic thirst to give more, to share what has been learned, to be of service.
I was given a new opportunity three days ago. I am still recovering from a defibrillator shock, amusingly a shock that didn’t stop the ventricular tachycardia. The heart reset itself on its own just before what would have been a second shock.
They say its like being kicked by a mule. Having never been kicked by a mule I can’t say for sure but it didn’t feel like a moving force meeting a hard place. It was explosive, starting at my finger tips and immediately exploding up my arm, into my heart and my brain. I was instantly blown to bits. This I call I was nowhere near this body which was disassembled like the pixels of color in a painting under a high power microscope.
Awareness remained. Simple, basic awareness. There was curiosity if I was dead. I honestly didn’t know. Everything was affected. Even the chair upon which I sat seemed distorted, not solid, an after effect.
It took several minutes — that should have been a grand clue that I was alive 😉 … time and space seem to be a unique part of the human condition — before I recognized that I was still embodied. Although physically here, it was an entirely different experience than what I knew before. The electricity continued to run through my body for the next 24 hours. At one point I pulled up my shirt to find the prickly stickers that must be there and realized it was merely the remnants of the charge.
Today I am looking at what I was given rather than mindlessly attempting to function in a body again. That was the story of the past two days. Mindless was all that was possible until the disparate parts began to reassemble. It is somewhat like being newborn, taking tentative steps, slowing down to a crawl at times, seeing what needs doing and letting it be, for nothing exists that could take up a task.
I have no control over this body. If I did I could stop the sprinting of my heart by eating right, exercising and eliminating stress. I’ve done all those things — losing weight, meditating, eating clean and organic, doing my shadow work and seeing through the boogey men in my inner closet, and yet at times the heart reacts to something of which I am not even aware.
Nothing I did gave me control.
When the body’s time is done I will appear to leave the earth plane. There is no stopping that. I can no longer fool myself into believing differently … and that creates a sense of peace that could never come from doing anything. It only comes from stopping. Dead stop.
There is no control here. If there were the pacemaker/defibrillator would have stopped my heart from racing. That didn’t happen. I find it hilarious that I was guided to have the surgery. Something within me still believed in a power outside of This That Is and it is pure grace to be shown the fallacy of that thinking.
This is a playground of expansion with one purpose — to be shown the truth and in that seeing, surrender happens. Surrender is not surrendering things, is not even surrendering parts and pieces of one’s lifestyle or comfort. Surrender is not something you can do. It happens to you. It is embedded grace, the grit and beauty of this planet’s purpose. Surrender is the full release of anyone with any power to affect anything. It feels like death. It is death. It feels physical, deeply personal, stripping away all, leaving nothing on which to hang a hat. Eventually it will result in the death of the material, perhaps today or tomorrow. I do not know. I cannot say.
So what do I do now? I live. I live until to your eyes it appears that I don’t, and even then I live. Life alone Is. There is nothing but life having Its way with us all.
“Beliefs limit pure, sacrosanct expression, so live into the largest potentiality you can imagine and let even that float free in the sacred riddle of life. The inexplicable has you. Let it shatter the desolate fetters stifling the wild child within and ride this no-nonsense, bargain of a lifetime and baby … you’re worth it all! Card #10, Sacred Riddle — The Wild Child