What do you Think?

I saw my grandpa on the night he died, he was standing over me looking down. I was terrified at the time, hid under the covers until morning, praying that God would make him go away.

I loved my grandpa dearly, but knew his body had been taken from the house, I knew he was at the undertakers. I never mentioned it to my Gran, his partner of over fifty years. As an Irish Catholic I think she might have washed my mouth out and certainly wouldn’t have believed me. I didn’t offer to stay another night and any times I stayed following that night, I always hopped in with my Gran. I never saw him again but have often been told he is with me.

I believe in life after death, you’ve probably gathered that by now if you’re a regular reader of my blog, but I have so many questions. One of these questions is, if a body has been disposed of, how can it look the same? Sometimes I believe, or have heard, they might look younger, healthier, happier. But why do we see them as they once were when they have left their bodies. Is it the energy we recognise, our brain doing the rest, or is it them, does a spiritual body have some sort of form?

After my mother died, I sat up for nights looking for her, I was sure she would appear, I’d asked her to come back but she didn’t. I think maybe my childhood fear closed the shutters. I think I have prevented myself from ever seeing anything quite like this again.

I’ve seen other things, people I don’t know, but not in the same way. Although they might look like they are in the room, I know they are in my head, it’s different. After my cat died she jumped on the bed a few times, the last time I kept my eyes closed hoping she would stay and she padded all around me before disappearing again. I think she came to let me know she was okay, just as my grandpa did.

I’ve seen a Buddhist Monk and a Big Warrior sort of guy, I don’t know them. I see or sense people who aren’t really there, can’t be seen by anyone else, but never like grandpa.

Sometimes when I’m in bed, I’m tickled, touched I think. It’s like a stroke, the most gentlest stroke, sometimes like a spiders web across my face or hand.

Now for reincarnation, I’m a firm believer in this too. I regress people and take them into future possible lives. I’ve been regressed and seen the men and women I have been. So if we live so many lifetimes, why do we look like the last if we come back like grandpa? I’m not sure I make sense, let’s try again. If I have one soul, but many bodies, surely they are all part of me, so I would look like a mixture of them all. Or is it my soul would look like me to anyone who knew me in this life, but different if I was visiting a past life in France?

It’s all bloody fascinating, I’m intrigued but suppose I’ll only ever know for sure when I get there and that’s if I’m right. I’ve sort of come to the conclusion it’s all energy, we recognise the energy and our human brains do the rest. The people I don’t know, like the monk, I put his energies into the form I recognised. I’m not sure from where, maybe a different life. Or maybe my soul, knows him, maybe my soul recognised him as a monk.

No I’m cheating a bit on the daily post today, although my grandpa was my grans partner. I haven’t got a partner to chew this over so I though I’d ask what you think. It would be great if someone could answer my questions or at least give them a go.

This is how my mind works when I’m procrastinating. I should be packing for my house move on Tuesday not working out the whys and wherefores of life and death!

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

Tether

So go tether me up if you want to,

it won’t stop me from flying away.

Leave me out in the wilderness,

I’ll cope and get through the day.

I’m more than just that body see,

I go travelling within my mind.

You think you see me tied up there,

I’m gone, I’ve left myself behind.

I travel seas and mountain tops,

fly through skies of deepest blue.

Sometimes when your sleeping,

I’m there and come close to you.

I’m bigger than the body you see,

won’t fathom it with your mind.

A rope won’t ever tie me down,  

you my capturer won’t ever find.

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

 

Best keep mum…

I would cause controversy if I were to sit in a spiritualist church and say out loud to a room full of practicing mediums ‘I’m not sure I believe in all this talking to the dead lark’.  But that’s the truth in a way, although I believe it at the same time.

I believe in life after death, I believe that the dead do continue and they are able to communicate with us, I’m just not so sure I believe in the way it’s practiced in spiritualist churches and centres. I think  they need to move with the time a bit, delve a little deeper and review their archaic rules and regulations. I am so fed up of hearing ‘I have your grandmother with me, she liked to knit’ or something else every grandmother in the western world liked to do.

When I die, if anyone goes searching for me I’m not coming back to say what I looked like, how I died and share a couple of very random memories, like do you remember when we went to the seaside and got fish and chips for our supper. I will have so much more to say, like yes, life continues and it’s all about love and if I give any evidence of my continued survival it will be mind blowing to the person searching, it will be between me and them and there will be no mistaking it was me. I would like to be able to share more of who I continue to be and how. After all my body didn’t go with me and I won’t still have blond fine hair and a fine figure! I shall probably have already told my loved ones not to look for me anywhere outside of themselves before I go anyway, and for my family, that will be fine.

You see I believe in the continuation of the spirit, so some of the things the churches talk about sits well with me but I know without a shadow of a doubt there is more. Take my mum, I know she is around me. She turns things on and off, she makes herself known and at times I feel her love so much it takes over. But she doesn’t go to the church all the time trying to contact the living as she can do that directly when she wants and has much more important things to do now. My mum is an educated woman, she is terrifically spiritual and while here on earth, believed deeply in the power of love. I know wherever she is and in whatever form she is learning everything she can about it, if it’s all about love as I’m sure it is, that is where she will have settled herself and where she will be working. She can read my mind, she knows that I know she is still around so she doesn’t have to use a third party.

I have had messages from my mum, proof of her survival from mediums but nothing I didn’t know, some things have been amazing because the medium knew them too, but nothing surprising to me.  So there is my questions, are they communicating with my mum psychically through me, are they picking out my mother from my own memories and energy, or are they in fact talking to her, honestly I just don’t know.

I have exactly the same questions if I try to link myself, I’m flabbergasted when I bring information out that can be accepted but haven’t a clue how I actually do it. I see pictures and feel and know but I assume it would be the same if I was tapping into energy too. This is why I would never make a really good medium, I haven’t the trust you see, I’m full of curiosity.

We carry so much with us in our energy, our subconscious and uncovered selves, so much more than we realise, ancestry, past lives, forgotten memories, it’s all their just waiting to be tapped into. We are capable of so much more than our minds allow at the moment, why limit ourselves to rules and regulations.

Now I’m not knocking the churches here and apologise if my thoughts here have upset anyone. I think there is certainly a place for spiritualist churches and mediums, for those grieving, those that are not sure about the continuation of spirit and those in need of love and support, but that’s about it as I think as life is for living and learning.

I won’t cause any controversy, I’ll keep my mouth shut or in slang, keep mum. Anyway, let’s be honest, they probably know what I think already!

Daily Prompt – Controversy

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

So much understanding, so many doubts…

I’m full of understanding on occasion and then again on others, I’m full of doubt.  I spend a lot of time thinking of what it’s all about, why we are here and our true purpose, what happens afterwards and if there is in fact a life after death. These questions, for me are some of the biggest questions, because we don’t know the answers for sure and I’m guessing we won’t or are not meant to.

Religions, philosophers, spiritual leaders and many different ways of life try to point us in the right direction, but it is left for us to reach our own conclusions. I like to listen and consider these different pointers, it fascinates me and I’m constantly left in a state of wonder.

I believe in life after death, I believe that consciousness continues in another form and science is starting to agree, but I’m not sure where it lives. Maybe it’s all around, maybe in the air that we breathe in and out each day, maybe it’s here but our eyes don’t see, or maybe in another dimension altogether.  I’m confused and doubtful on occasion and on others I instinctively know I’m onto something. I have always had a firm belief in life after death but as I don’t know for sure what happens to that life, I’m also left with doubts.

I believe in the spirit, consciousness, call it what you like. I believe the spirits that have moved on can communicate through and to us if we are open and listen. Only this morning somebody told me to go put a permit on my car, I did and there was a warden standing there ready to put a ticket on it. Okay this could have also been my own sub-consciousness, but if it was, it spoke in the middle of another train of thought completely and saved me a parking ticket. Then there are those things I’m told I don’t unconsciously know, work that out, I can’t!

There are no clear answers in life and I believe it is good to be sceptical, I worry about those that instantly believe in everything they are told, I’m interested in new ideas. I mean, we once thought the world was flat, but I like to consider these ideas in my own time, think about what they say to me. If we question something it means that we give it our attention and think about it, that has to be healthy.

I doubt we will get the answers, just yet anyway, because we are not ready for them, we are still working on ourselves, some people more than others.  Some people dedicate their whole lives to spirituality, to understanding purpose and looking for enlightenment. If I was in charge I might think they needed to know, but then I think again and doubt myself, because if they were told all the answers they would feel a responsibility to share it with everyone else. You see there are no clear answers, just lots of questions and a good few doubts!

Daily Prompt – Doubt

 

Visit

I’m screaming at the walls, 

but I still sit here alone.

Tell me when you’re coming, 

I need you back at home.

Surprise me if you want to, 

I’ll manage it if you like.

I’m expecting you to visit me, 

and I’m hoping for tonight.

You left without arrangements, 

just passed without a word.

I’m watching closely for you, 

and it’s probably absurd.

But I’m lonely here without you,

everything is just so black.

Could you please just drop by,

just talk and I’ll talk back.

I’m hoping that you’ll hear me,

maybe show me that you do.

If you want to see some others,

I’ll be sure they are here too.

The walls are now just speechless,

they’ve enough of being white.

Tell me that you’re coming please, 

you’ll visit with me tonight.

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

Return of my Invisible Friend

Like a lot of children I had a friend that only I could see.   Although no one else could see her, it didn’t make her any less real and somehow validated our special friendship.  Her name was Reen, well that was how I pronounced it back then, and we played for hour upon hour in the wonderland inside our home.  Reen stayed close to me, she waited in my room while I slept, rocking gently on the rocker beside my bed and joined me at the table for meals, we spent hours at the bottom of the garden in our camp under the old coalbunker and I shared everything with her.  It was Reen that helped me wrap the hedgehog up warm and put him in the dressing up chest for the winter and Reen that taught me not to eat the slugs we found on the path.  When I was having my hair washed Reen would stand by the door watching and smiling as I screamed and wriggled away to the other end of the bath, I don’t recall her bathing but she was always shiny and bright.  When my daddy didn’t come home any more, she stayed close to me at night as I listened as mum cried in the distance. Whatever the weather was doing and however many layers I was wearing, Reen always wore the same dress, with little white flowers on a pale green background with a white collar and cardigan.

I can’t remember when she stopped coming or I stopped noticing, maybe about the same time my little sister could join me in play and moved into my room.  I feel bad now I think of it someone so important, just forgotten.  That’s it with imaginary friends they just leave your imagination one day and that’s it your on your own.  I remember mum telling me how one day we were running for the bus and she noticed my hand held out behind me, like I was dragging something along.  ‘Wait for Reen’ I fussed as we mounted the bus, a petrified look on my face, because I might leave my friend.  Mum told it as if she believed I really did have a friend, even with all the excitement of running for the bus and a fun day ahead, I had not forgotten Reen.  I didn’t remember this and although I had a slight dream like memory of a girl with a pretty dress and curly blond hair, Reen was cast to the back of my mind.  Mum often said she wished she had asked me more about my friend back then, but a busy mum bringing up two girls she let it go as I did myself years later with my own child.

I’m in my fifties now, I’m on the downward path now although still hopeful, and today I walked into the lounge to find Reen sitting on the sofa.  I saw her as I walked through the door just sitting waiting, like your family might, familiar, comfortable in the surroundings and all grown up.   I suppose that would make sense as she would have been growing with me, but she didn’t have the worry lines I see on my face each time I look in the mirror or any of the ravages of time this stressful world brings, she was truly beautiful.  I recognised her immediately, there wasn’t a moment when I didn’t know who she was.  The dress was gone but replaced by a blouse of the same pattern and her face was soft and creamy as I remembered, with big eyes and the gentle smile that was so deep and warm and hair the colour of summer. The shopping bags I was carrying hung heavy on the end of my arms as I stood and watched, holding my breath, not blinking in case she disappeared again.  She smiled some more and I felt safe, I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, with a bubble growing in my throat, I couldn’t speak.  There I was like an idiot, standing in my coat, hair dripping into my eyes, the light still not switched on, with those sodden bags hanging from my arms.

Oh dear god, what a loser I must be to have my childhood friend return at my age.  It wasn’t that I was not happy to see her it’s just that it made me realise what a total bulls up I must have made of things since she had left, had she returned to repair me, put right all the wrongs and untangle all the lies.  She must know, yes, I looked into those eyes and knew instantly she had been with me all the time, I just hadn’t seen her until now.  You know when something is so real, there is not time for excuses, embarrassment, ego polishing or the like, well that was the moment I was caught in.  I bent to put my bags down on the floor, still dripping from the rain on to the waxed floorboards, knowing, as I did there would be a watermark later.  I walked slowly, yet within one held breath to the sofa and sat beside her.  I sat on her left, she was on my right and the feather sofa gave beneath me, this was not a dream.  I might have breathed but I’m not sure as in my mind a breath might have blown her away.  We sat there, comfortable like we had never been apart and a small bit of me realised we hadn’t parted, I had just stopped seeing her.

I want to be able to tell you how we spoke, how we caught up with the time and how I apologized for forgetting her but I can’t.  Because we haven’t spoken yet, she is still sitting there watching as I write this down with my cat Eris, snuggled up comfortably and purring softly beside her.

lizalizaskysaregrey©2016

Giant – DP

The giant is quite beautiful,

magnificent to me,

gentle yet splendiferous,

although you cannot see.

The giant is eternal,

having travelled many years,

through challenges and twists,

some of them with tears.

The giant’s had to overcome,

things that held it down,

fear of failure was impossible,

until bravery was found.

The giant got so big through love,

expanding from the heart,

the giant wasn’t always big,

so very tiny at the start.

The giant’s is so very old,

wise and always right,

watch the giant and listen,

don’t put it out of sight.

The giant is invisible,

yet that giant’s so very true,

the giant is your spirit you see,

it rides along with you.