|
I awoke this morning (September 13, 2001) within a dream of walking with thousands through a darkened city, with the familiar "astral glow" that accompanies these unique kinds of dreams, and realized that I was walking with those who had died at the World Trade Center in New York. My instinct was to remain silent about this vision, but out of respect for those who remain behind, and to console any one of those people to the extent that I can, I decided to share this on The Zoo Fence. How many fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, friends and children died in that event I cannot count. The pain and heartbreak of those who remain behind, missing their loved ones, and longing to see their faces again is almost unbearable for me to contemplate, and even then, it compares in no way at all to the pain those actual individuals are feeling. There is no way that I can address this pain or relieve its agony. It is something which can only be healed through individual effort, and the struggle that will come for each remaining individual to get through this, to reconcile it, to learn to live moment to moment with the pain, the confusion, the loss. My only contribution can be my own heartfelt compassion for those individuals, and my own reconciliation within my own heart, in an effort to try to integrate this into history, to attempt to fit it into the puzzle of life, to assist each individual to the extent that I can through my own heartfelt compassion. That is all that I can do. In the final analysis, this must be given to God by each of us, to the extent that we can, and remain assured that within God's perspective, and within the transcendent view, there is order and rationality to this, however insane it appears to be from our worldly perspective. With faith and surrender to that Force, to that Order, to that Power, we can get through this; it is only when we rely on and believe that the extent of our power ends within the boundaries of our physical bodies that the suffering continues and the impotence seems insurmountable. The night of these many deaths, as I sat looking up at a still and silent sky, with no contrails, no activity whatsoever in the heavens above this tiny space in rural Maine, only clear, sparkling stars and not even the light of a moon, only starlight, there came a wind up the hill, loud and intense, and surprising, which swirled through the trees, whistling and bowing their branches. It lasted for about twenty seconds. I am certain, without a doubt, that this wind was a message from the earth herself, sighing in sadness, possibly all the way from New York City, carrying the event northward, and heavenward. There had been no wind previous to this, no movement of the air afterwards. It was immense in significance, and sobering. It brought my heart up into my throat, it stopped my mind, it held me in reverence and awe; it spoke to me of things greater than physical, and reassured me of the importance of this event, and the embracing of the earth and heavens that occurs with every moment of time, and every event, however huge or small. The ancient traditions state that the soul normally takes three days to transit from its body to its new destination in the event of death. This is the third day, and my dream signifies to me that that process is underway. Many of us, as living embodiments of souls, assist that transition, I believe, through the intermingling of our consciousness with theirs, and often the dream state reveals this process. There is no doubt in my mind, that these individuals are, in this transitory state, intact, complete and conscious. What little consolation that brings those loved ones who remain behind, is hard to measure. However, to my own mind, it is significant that there is no terror within this process, no fear, only some confusion calling for guidance and direction by those who assist this kind of transition, and of those, I assure you, there are many. Indeed, this dream was about that assistance and that process; orderly, quiet, and progressive, these individuals were walking together, en masse, toward a destination that was orderly and directed. I remember years ago listening to a number of people speaking about traumatic events, and their subsequent "deaths", and who returned subsequently to us resuscitated to report that experience. These people actually died, some for minutes, some for seconds, only to come back to life with their memory intact of the subsequent events after that death. Without exception, they had separated from their bodies prior to the actual death, and indeed, some had moved out of the body while the trauma was occurring, and observed the event from "above" and "beyond", with dispassion and curiosity, indeed watching their body struggle, move about, or do whatever it was that was in train prior to that process. It appears to me that there seems to be a safeguard device within the consciousness that protects one from intolerable fear or pain, and in the event of death, removes us from the actual experience of it when it occurs, and is remembered only later. If we remember that each of us views our own world, literally and individually, from our isolated and distinct position, and thus, the world unwinds according to our own, individual pre-suppositions and assumptions, and memories, and expectations, then, it might explain to us why we can see what appears to be to us intense suffering, while, at the same time, the consciousness that is "suffering" may be actually observing the event from a detached position. If carried to its conclusions, this points us in the direction of our own relief from suffering, in that we are in the position to change our own individual perspective, assumptions, and so forth and thus transform our own state of consciousness. And this in turn, will address the emotional and mental turmoil that each of us who remain behind must contend with. It is this turmoil that is so interminable, so constant, so persistent, to which each remaining member must now address his or her attention. It is to this turmoil that, in my own mind, only reliance upon a power greater than our small selves needs to be addressed. Certainly, in my own life, it has only been when I turned to my God that the unending struggle, the interminable doubt and chatter of a suffering consciousness would come to an end, and peace would surface. With that said, to the extent that I can, I place all these souls in the hands of God, and rely upon the order, peace, and tranquility inherent in that God to bring each soul to his or her own place of peace, order and tranquility. May God's Grace be with them all, and accessible within each heart. |
![]()
At the end, God, I conclude, compensates, punishes.
If He should reveal Himself a hundred thousand times, not one will resemble another. You also this very moment see God; every instant in His works and acts you see Him multicolored. Not one act of His resembles another act. In time of gladness is one epiphany, in time of weeping is another epiphany, in time of fear another, in time of hope another. Since the acts of God, and the epiphany of His acts and works, are infinitely various, not one being like another, therefore the epiphany of His Essence is likewise infinitely various as is the epiphany of His acts.
Copyright click here
Our thanks for the hummingbirds to Mystic's Graphics!
(Their website seems no longer to exist.)