Fate and Destiny

When we met it was as though we had been together since the beginning of time.

Hurricane Hugo brought us together in 1989, during my fourth and next to last year of Surgical Residency.  Coming in from call one night I saw all over CNN and the news, pictures of devastation on the island of Montserrat where my mother was born, and living at that time.

The once lush hillsides were bared by the fury of the wind exposing roofless homes everywhere. Of course all communications were down and I could not contact my mother. I knew in my heart  that she was physically in no danger but I had to go see.

I told my Chief Resident that I was off on a humanitarian mission, he could not argue that, and  off I went, back pack filled with surgical supplies. I found my mother in a small run down cottage she had been forced to relocate to.  A bread fruit tree in the back yard had fallen on the roof of her home.

I spent many hours making the space habitable for her then went to volunteer at the island hospital.  I was placed in Casualty, the British Colony version of an Emergency Room, to take care of cuts and lacerations.

At the end of the day I headed for the nearby watering hole aka the pub. A few beers later after chatting with a cople locals, I was lightly flirting with the idea of heading out, when I got a hello and looked up into the eyes of my fate.

By this time in life I realized that I had an nnate preference for all things Celtic and pagan. It seemed unnatural to everyone else considering my race, culture, and religious indoctrination.

Jonathan was born in Scotland.  He lived in London and was currently having the artist’s life, spending time in Montserrat with an old fiend, son of a former Governor. It was pretty much a done deal after our first meeting.

We spend the day and night together. He always said, as we related our chance meeting to friends, “it was love at first bite.” After a couple days I went back to New York and tried to forget him.

I met his family in England over a week that Christmas. He came to New York for a short time and I went to Montserrat. That was it.  Upon completion of my surgical training two years later, we were married. We spent 20 years together. He would say as each year went by, sometimes disingenuously, “another year of bliss”.

We were married on the island of Nevis, my birth place, in the historic Fig Tree Church. The priest was unknown to me because my family was strictly Christian Fundamentalist. I abhorred the dogma that had been forced upon me as a child, and so as a compromise, for the sake of family, we chose to say our vows in the religious tradition of my husband to be because we loved the beauty and history of this particular edifice.

Unfortunately we could not choose the priest. During the pre marriage counseling I tried to negotiate regarding the vows. I would have none of that “ till death do we part” archaic vow. I would make my own, but the priest would have none of that.

We stood at the altar and he recited to me “and do you Cheryl.. till death do you part?” I froze. Time stood still and I went into a worm hole.  After an eternity and from a great distance I could hear Jonathan’s voice as he held both of my hands in his, “its ok babe, its ok.  I came back and stepped into my destiny.Image

Moving out of Pain.

One day during yoga in double pigeon pose I suddenly started sobbing. I did a clever cover up and after class shared the experience with the instructor. She was not surprised or even taken aback. Crying happens surprisingly often she said  depending on where one holds stress and tension. Some people hold stress in their backs and cry with back opening stretches. In your case you hold “stuff’ in your hips.

I thought this was all very interesting indeed and proceeded to forgot about it. In retrospect I remembered having a dull ache in my left hip for some time.  I had placed the blame on stress in the joint from running and was taking  supplements to strengthen the cartilage. The supplements helped while I took them but when I stopped the ache came back. This went on for a few years until my husband passed.

About a year and a half later, I was slowly coming out of mourning, listening to talk shows on Awakening Zone, blog talk radio. I heard an interview with Vicki Reiner, clairvoyant healer. She “sees” energy, what it looks like and where it is stuck and helps her clients move it. I was really impressed, so much so that I did a phone session with her a few weeks later.

She said I had dark looking energy stuck in my second chakra- (area of the pelvis and hips) the energy of my father- who I felt rejected and abandoned me- His energy kept blocking me whenever I tried to reach for what I wanted, she said. She clairvoyantly helped me get the energy out of my body with breath and intention. I felt the movement. Hadn’t felt anything there in over three years. Yippee!

I have learned that thoughts and emotions are energetic “things”. A difficult emotion that is not fully processed is stuffed, somewhere in the body.  Anger, rage, jealousy, and shame to name a few get stuck in the hips, shoulders, neck, and lower back, depending on the person and the area where the emotion is felt. Over time this energy condenses into physical pain, and dis-ease. Movement such as yoga, and dance, as well as different types of body work and massage can help shift energy.

 A few days after the session I was driving my car into town during a downpour of rain and suddenly a shocking wave of ecstasy roared through my body. I pulled into a parking lot and waited as wave after wave overwhelmed and washed over me. It was fabulously amazing. I had never experienced anything like that before.

 Now that I have “cleared the crap out of my pelvis” life is becoming  interesting. Different people and experiences move in and out with more freedom and ease. And so I sit in the vastness of my being and surrender to the waves of ecstasy flowing through and over me.Image

Life after Death and the illusion of space and time.

A couple of days before my wedding anniversary, I was married for twenty years, a friend dragged me out for a glass of wine or two or three after work. I am now playing at being a waitress and restaurant manager.  She was with another woman whose husband had also passed around the same time as mine.

This woman and I talked about our longing to communicate with our respective husbands. She had some success with a medium, and also occasionally feels her husband’s presence through a particular song they both loved. The departed can communicate through anything that catches our attention, a billboard, a song, a butterfly, a feeling, a dream…

I bemoaned my lack of conscious communication with my husband. I had a few dreams that left me feeling somewhat comforted, but dissatisfied. I missed him so much I wanted to feel his presence, but it was not happening.

Why not? I was starting to get more than a little bit pissed off by what I felt was his lack of serious effort. I managed to get home that night through a misty fog of tears. The next day, wallowing in the wake of a very wicked hangover, I was brave enough in my self pity to think through the why not.

I guess my husband wants me to get on with it.  There must be something else that I have chosen to experience otherwise I would have left too.  I think that he does not want to distract me from my purpose.  Even more importantly though, we are still together even while I am pretending that we are not.

Life exists in a myriad of forms. Being in a body is just one small slice of the pie. Life goes on and on, in fact it’s the only game in town.  In my father’s house are many mansions, many rooms, many floors, it could take an eternity to explore them all.

We tend to move in soul groups within spiritual families.  My husband and I  have had and will have many lifetimes together.  We switch roles to make it interesting. Within our group I have been mother, father, sister, son, friend, and arch enemy. I have been very good and also very, very bad, and so has he.

To make this all even more fun is the fact that we exist in an infinite number of realities simultaneously. There is no separation, there is no time. We are one, here and now.  In fact, my husband and I are in each others arms having a really big giggle. He points in the distance, and Imagesays “look at you, go girl! Come back soon and tell me all about it!”

 

Life after Death and the illusion of space

Frequency and vibration

Woke up feeling wretched and extremely pitiable.  Thought to myself, snap out of it girl and gave a sharp jerk to the rubber band that I keep on my wrist these days for the specific purpose of inflicting pain at the the first hint of negative thinking.  Pavlov experimented with this kind of conditioning. It works on dogs so why not me?  The pain helped to prevent a further sinking into the miasma of misery but did nothing to elevate my mood.

 I tried to feel the feeling of the joy of tons of money, first class tickets to San Francisco, and a sexy lover coming at me. I was determined to put the New Age “Law of Attraction” into high gear. Nothing doing, it just was not working. Then I remembered what I already know. 

 Its all about vibration and frequency. I live in a sea of light and sound but only perceive a narrow band width. I cannot see ultraviolet at the higher end of the light frequency spectrum or infrared at the lower end, nor can I hear the sound of a dog whistle, but it is all there for those with ears to hear and eyes to see.

 I do not have to attract anything. Every thing is already here. I get to experience and have what my vibration resonates with.  The right frequency allows me to receive what I want after I make space for it by letting go of what I do not want.

So it is that I must set the vibration and tone for my day before I leave the house. Thank you God for my perfect and magnificent life. I am blessed. How could it get any better than this? What exciting miracles and gifts are waiting for me to discover today? I am fabulous, amazing, deeply loved, and incredibly sexy!