There are two
ways to be fooled.
One is to
believe what isn't true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.
Søren
Kierkegaard (1813-1855)
Several years ago, I wrapped up my
two year-old grandson, Adam, and carried him outside to see an amazing starry
sky. As he looked up into that vast night sky, he said only one word—D-A-R-K.
As magnificent as those stars were that night, and even thought at the time I
did not realize it, he must have not been able to comprehend the stars. All he
experienced was darkness.
Today I have been reading Proof
of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon's Journey into the Afterlife, by Eben Alexander,
M.D. I cannot say the information is new to me, but the words have certainly
been soothing to my soul. A line from the book inspired this blog. “Imagine how
limited our view of the universe would be if we never saw the star-spangled
nighttime sky.” (p. 72)
I find my emotions jarred, once
again a nagging wondering about what I have done to cause stress in
relationship with someone I care deeply about. In the absence of an
understanding, I am left to imagine all manner of possibilities. One difference
this time is a haunting sense that there is some profound healing gift amidst
the emotions—an unwinding of a pattern deep from within my unconscious.
I am writing a lot while I am here
on Pine Island. I am also discovering an identity as a writer. After I read
some of my work to my sister, Janis, I cried and said, “I think I finally know
who I am!” Earlier this week I read How to Work with an Illustrator
in which Cary Tennis says the creative process can trigger unresolved
inner child issues. It makes sense, but I had not previously put the two
together.
One of the threads of Proof of
Heaven touched me deeply. Eben had been adopted because his birth mom had only been 16 when he was born, just a sophomore in high school. This is exactly the age and grade I was when my daughter, Stacey, was born.
In spite of his happy life with his
adoptive family, Eben also felt a nagging to know what had become of his
biological parents. An adult with children of his own, he discovered his
biological mother and father had later married and then had several children so
he had blood siblings!
After he was adopted, his adoptive
parents conceived and had a daughter they named Betsy. Imagine his surprise
that one of his biological sisters was also named Betsy. Incidentally, both
women married men named Rob, but I will not give the rest of the story away
because you might enjoy reading the book.
The coincidence of the girls named
Betsy touched me partially because we recently discovered my father had an
older sister named Mary Ellen who died before he was five years old, and we had
a sister who was born prematurely and only lived five days. My sister had been
named Mary Ellen…. Now we wonder if my folks named our baby sister after my
dad's own sister who had died.
While in a deep coma for six days,
Eben Alexander says he went to heaven where he learned profound truths that changed
his life. I will let you be the judge of how much they change life, but here
are a few of those "truths" that resonated with me:
"You are loved and cherished, dearly, forever."
"You have nothing to fear."
"There is nothing you can do wrong." (p. 41)
Ultimately, none of us are orphans. We are all in the
position I was, in that we have other family: beings who are watching
and looking out for us—beings we have momentarily forgotten but who, if we open
ourselves to their presence, are waiting to help us navigate our time here on
earth. None of us are ever unloved. Each and every one of us is deeply known
and cared for by a Creator who cherishes us beyond any ability we have to
comprehend.(p. 96)
I may still be waiting to have those
truths completely chase the ghosts of fear of abandonment from my thoughts and
feelings as I find my place in the world as a writer. For sure I have already
been drawing comfort from an increasing sense of angels as guides, and so for
now I will take these words from the book into my heart and mind.
Meanwhile, it is my prayer that
angels will be enough to have me wait patiently for my dear friend to navigate
the deep emotional waters of life. Of course angels are helping with that,
too...
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| Visions of Sharon, painting by my dear friend, Dahlis Roy. |
