All is Not What it Seems

Note: I am not sure this ever made it here but I am perusing drafts now for the end of Mercury Retrograde. I posted this as a guest blogger for a blog that went bye-bye. This content has resonance since I am doing more ancestral research and preparing to embark on my ancestral lineage healing soon. My prayer is that whoever needs to see this material will find it.  much love, Linda

Death is not my thing. I clearly remember being about 7 years old lying in bed instead of sleeping. I decided that we shall live to be 100 years old. I subtracted 7 from 100 to conclude I only had 93 years to live. Some would say I was precocious or an old soul, but c’mon! Why was I lamenting on my remaining 93 years at such a tender age? I had not experienced any major losses yet. I was not surrounded by serious illness or injury. Why was I so morose? All is not what it seems.

When my sister’s friend’s father was terminal, I was in my teens. I took this incredibly hard. My mother sensed that I don’t handle death well. I just could not fathom life without this kind man who was needed as a father and husband. I gathered that I was supposed to be less involved, but that’s nothing new. My family always complained that I was “too sensitive.”

But this is the thing ~ the trauma of sudden tragic death was coded within my DNA. I was carrying my father’s unfinished pain and anguish over the loss of his father so many decades ago. It took me a very long time to discover that this psychic overlay was infecting my ability to integrate death into life.

My dad adored his father, who I never met. He died as a result of a car accident when my dad was about 10 years old. This event shaped his life in ways I doubt he understood. It fed his ambition, bitterness, and ability to trust in life. Being raised by someone locked in trauma inhibited my ability to process loss in a healthy way. I did not know there was any other way.

My father lived a long life and survived most of the male relatives of his generation. He seemed quite resilient, especially during the last ten to fifteen years of his life that were plagued with a variety of serious illnesses. My mother has said his love of life kept him here. Perhaps he realized that life is a gift and longevity is precious. He was quite optimistic about his life, despite his bitterness around grief. There lies the paradox.

So how did I address my generational trauma? I studied psychology and became a therapist. I learned more about the human condition and found refuge in helping others heal. You can also heal yourself this way. I created a Grief and Loss group at one of the programs where I worked as a therapist/supervisor. Facing up to the topic of death and loss can be very cathartic.

Another strategy I use is to live my life to the fullest, moment by moment. I recognize my time here is short and I want to live as the Tim McGraw song says, “Like I was Dying.” Blogging has brought me back to life and extended my reach all over the planet. Realizing my dream of being a writer has really allowed me to live more fully and authentically. Dreams and goals can change, but bringing your desires into being with intention can be a constant through one’s journey here.

My spiritual path has also made a huge impact on my ability to be present in the face of eventual loss of my physical body. The book Dying to Be Me by Anita Moorjani really struck a chord for me. She espouses living in the face of fear as a result of a remarkable near death experience. A recent session with a medium took my understanding of eternity to a new level. Being a witness to several deceased relatives sharing specific details of their lives was amazing beyond description. This session shifted philosophy and theory and into a bold new realization. There really is a continuation of consciousness.

On the heels of this session, grace stepped in to reframe an old secret into a new way of being. One of my dad’s superstitions was that the month of May was cursed. He referred to it as “Marvelous May.” All I knew was that my grandfather was killed in May. I wondered what else happened then, but was afraid to ask. Well this past May 19^th I had two medical tests performed. After the tests were completed, my mom told me she was very worried about the date. She revealed that she miscarried before I was born and it was on May 19^th. I never knew it was in May. I responded by asking if any happy events happened in May. When she failed to think of something, I thought about graduations and glanced at my MSW diploma. The date read May 19^th, 1996. I told her about it and shared how that was such a great day. I do not think it was a coincidence that the dates correlate. It was time for Spirit to intervene, finally excavating the destructive family legacy that was interfering with living in alignment with Source.

All is not what it seems.

image courtesy of wikipedia.org, public domain