3rd cup. I see that the killing of the planet is what’s making looking at my own life and death be more meaningful than struggling to get my taxes done. It makes everything I have to do to keep going have no point. Avaaz sent out a variety of statements & pictures, encouraging you to take a picture of yourself with a sign if you can’t get to a march and send it to them. A lot of signs saying “THERE IS NO PLANET B.” One said “There’s no point educating our kids for a future that doesn’t exist.” It makes me more determined to be on that bus at 6:42. I can’t say that turning inward and being occupied with death and grief is more important or more worthwhile than joining a group to do something real, physical, visible. What I feel is a tremendous tug down and in, into the North, the darkness, wrestling with the demon in the dark dark wood. Grieving that PTSD made it impossible to really enjoy the little moments of beauty or kindness. Grieving that PTSD and aging killed the good life I had in Franconia — maybe it’s truer to say that PTSD wounded my ability to live a good life, and it got to the point where I couldn’t keep going by myself. Why did I choose this for myself if that’s what I did? I look forward to talking over Jenny’s life with my “family group” in the astral realm (or wherever they are).
Instructions from a dream I had long long ago: “Go down, under, and through.”
I badly need a lift of the heart.
The bus at 6:42 AM is the one that’s recommended to Kendal residents, because the gathering for the chain of people from the high school in Hanover to the one in Norwich starts at 7:30AM. Getting up that early is very tricky for me.
Why did I choose this for myself…? The idea is given in books by Michael Newton and Robert Schwartz who have done research through hypnosis and psychics. John Newton had many clients who remember a similar process for the time between one life and the next one. This process involves getting together with a number of souls who have been together for thousands of years and often incarnate in the same life where they interact. I call them a “family group” because that’s what happens in the mornings at Kindred Spirits. We all get together and each person speaks truly about their life, and they are listened to with love and without judgement.
One of the ways I image my death is that I stop breathing and wake up, sit up, and say “Wow, I was Jenny. What an intense lifetime!” It will be like the final night of a performance of a play. You will be sad not to play that part again, but you will have learned a lot.