Petapalooza

7-12-17 UPDATE: Guess what arrives in the mail, last night, the eve of the 2 year anniversary of Dexter’s death? A huge envelope from the SPCA. I open it up to discover a 2018 calendar featuring photos of cats and dogs. I have never received a calendar from them before, in all the years I have been affiliated with them. And look at the timing? hmmmmm…

I love you Dexter ❤

On Thursday or Friday I heard something on the radio about a Petapalooza in my neighborhood. My intuition told me this whisper was a possible summons. I like the name Petapalooza and was curious. I “heard” it was yesterday and noticed nothing was happening in the area. That is because it was scheduled for today!

Friday evening before bed I sensed Dexter asleep in his bed. Almost instantly I realized this could not be. Yet I gave myself permission to allow this idea to express itself. While asleep I dreamed about animals. Both a dog and a cat ran to me like babies missing their momma. When I hugged the cat, I felt the embrace of completeness. The cat felt like Dexter, but the body was ice-cold. I remarked about this coldness to someone in the dream. There was also a patch of purple fabric on the cat’s body. I did not analyze the dream, but figure Dexter was paying me a visit.

I awoke feeling confused and sad. Honestly, I have felt sad, lonely, missing, and angry for several months now. I keep working to find ways to heal what needs healing. I considered that the Petapalooza may offer some answers.

The weather is lovely so I did not mind the long walk from my car to the festivities. I told myself my body requires more exercise. At first I only saw dogs around, but eventually I noticed some cat rescue organizations. I checked out some cats, with the intention of browsing. I am not ready to adopt. Even though it will be 2 years next week since I lost Dexter. My grief has changed since then, but I am not fully over losing him. Part of me has not fully accepted his departure. I am not really surprised at this discovery. Not really.

While I am glad I got out of the house for a while, I was only more saddened by the sight of the homeless animals. I thought of my former cats Dex and Jasmine who I adopted from the SPCA.  Someone at the cat rescue booth suggested people take pictures of the kittens to post to social media. Once it occurred to me that I could help out, I had already begun to walk to my car. I simply lacked the energy to seize the moment. I feel like those shelter animals: abandoned, lost, empty, and sad.

I am not a stranger to depression. In this instance it is mostly situational. Practically everything in my life has disintegrated before my eyes. What I tell suicidal clients is that we are here for a reason and it is not our choice to end our lives. I am here to see how it all plays out. But at this moment it does not look good.

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Purple Forever

Here is my tribute to Prince, re published on the 1 year anniversary of his passing. As I write this, I witness another otter ( muskrat, groundhog, ??) sighting. He or she was too fast for me to capture photographically. Still cool to receive some awesome creature magick.

I want to use this opportunity to briefly editorialize on the evolution of my blogging, which is very apropos for a Mercury retro cycle. Initially I thought I would write a few posts about my spiritual journey, as an English student would for a teacher. My grades would be in the form of readers and comments. At least that is how it appears looking back. 2013 was an exciting and mysterious time for me and many others. My writing flourished here, and I grew as a result, both creatively and personally.

As my health began to deteriorate and my finances followed suit, my writing grew both more dark and more intimate. I let you in and shared more of my deepest fears and complicated musings. The polished writer facade became more flawed and exposed.

Please be open to every aspect of my writing and try not to draw any sweeping conclusions. Existence is about context and my blog reflects that context over the dimensions of space and time. Creative types are often both tortured and brilliant simultaneously. Please enjoy my Prince post as you contemplate that paradox.

much love, Linda litebeing

litebeing chronicles

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I was preparing to buy groceries when the news came in. Prince is gone at age 57. Think tender and brash, shy and overtly sexual. Think 1999, Purple Rain, Diamonds and Pearls, The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, Raspberry Beret, Little Red Corvette, Money Don’t Matter Tonight etc.  Just Tuesday afternoon while I was driving to a medical appointment, Purple Rain came on the radio. I have not heard it in quite some time. I became very emotional and was surprised by my reaction. Could I have been sent a message foreshadowing this event? Quite likely.

I learned today that he also had an emergency visit to the hospital on 4-14-16 and was also released on 4-15-16.

But I am here and he is not.

wikipedia.org pub domain

I do not have the energy to write a complete post. He had a Gemini Sun, Pisces Moon, and Scorpio Rising. His chart aligns…

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Crossing Over the Psychic Highway

Around the 1st or 2nd of March, I am listening to the radio during my morning commute. Business as usual. I am only partially tuning in to the announcer’s comments. He is discussing the next clue for a contest. That gets my attention as I became a bit curious. He said ” Answer all five correctly for your chance to win free tickets to see John Edward in Philadelphia. ” John Edward, the medium? Now I was more than curious!

I did not expect to win any tickets, but wondered when John Edward was coming to town. March 11, it turns out, was the magic day. That is a little over a week away. I check out the website and tickets are still available. Wow, I may actually do this.  I have been interested in John Edward for many years, having watched  his Crossing Over TV shows and interviews. I would scan the TV audience and imagine being there, receiving a random reading. He is not bad to look at, and really down to earth. Not only that, he credits himself on the ethics of the metaphysical profession.

I was amazed that I was led to this point. It is now Friday, March 3rd and I am sending out feelers to family and friends. No one is able to go with me. I keep trying to figure out if I am supposed to go. The tickets are not cheap and I do not know if I want to go alone. I settle myself down and ask for specific guidance. If I get a sign I will order a ticket.

So I am watching television, keeping myself open. I am listening to Bill Maher, as I do most Fridays. He is doing his “New Rules” routine, which is where he introduces images to accompany his satire. The topic is finding Liberals who can battle as hard as the Conservatives. He discusses bringing back people who may misbehave but kick Progressive ass. He goes on to suggest a candidate who  was a huge proponent of government – backed healthcare in 2008. The person’s picture appears on-screen: John Edwards! He was a popular Democratic Senator who had some excellent ideas but was morally distasteful. He is clearly not John Edward the medium, but their names are almost identical and Senator Edwards is not someone often mentioned anymore in the media.

I got my sign!

I marveled at my fortune, albeit briefly. My intuition has been amping up recently, and the more I listen, the more data that I receive. Just Friday morning in fact, I got a message from my mother via dreamtime. In the dream I am awakened by a phone call without any ringtone. I hear my mother’s voice a few feet away coming out of the receiver. I pick up the phone and she tells me to be careful driving to work. I see a vision of a dark rainy road. I tell her not to worry because I am calling out today. A few minutes later I wake from the dream and it is time to get ready for work. I review my dream and take it as a warning to stay home. I call out sick and go back to sleep. Thank you mom!

I was beginning to feel very nervous yesterday morning. The fact that the trains were not running did not help. How could I meditate on my dead relatives and pets while obsessing on how to get downtown? I didn’t, that’s how. I became focused on tracking the transportation agency’s twitter account instead. Thankfully service was restored because it was frigid yesterday and I did not want to drive into town on the first day of the Flower Show. It is one of the biggest draws to the downtown area so the city will be totally congested with tourists.

The birds began to take flight in harmony as I drove off to the train station. This was not lost on me at all. I arrived early enough to get a quick lunch. The historic Reading Terminal Market was filled to the brim and I had only a few minutes to gobble something down. Let me tell you this entire process was very harried, from beginning to end.  All of a sudden I get this thought about a gyros sandwich. I find the stand and,  lo and behold, one sole stool is empty! I jumped on the stool and ordered quickly. I was surprised I was able to find a seat with no line in this congested conglomerate of chaos.

So I get to the theater and find my seat, The energy is negative, despite the obvious sage – smudging. I am clearly excited and nervous. Here I am living my dream, yet all alone.  The name Linda came up often. 5 people were chosen to ask questions and one of them was Linda. Early on he mentioned a L name in the reading. He said ” Lou or Louise, but not Linda. ” When he uttered not Linda, I knew I would not be called on.  And I was correct.

And yet, I felt tuned in with John as my name came up repeatedly during the two hours. Nowadays,  Linda is not a popular name. There was also a reference to my favorite uncle, long ago deceased. He specifically said in the midst of another reading ” Uncle Joe”. What was important that he said Uncle Joe, not just Joe. John Edward often referenced how what is said for one person may apply to many, and he weaved in readings all across the audience, from one party to another, It was fascinating to watch him work. At the end of the event, there was time for a few more questions. I did not have a questions so I didn’t raise my hand. But the woman next to me did and they called on her. So John was looking at me while she spoke. I knew it.

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5/deed.en By User:Alain r (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons

I highly recommend seeing him if you are interested in contacting a loved one. He is very wise and emphasized the power of energy work and implored everyone to become more educated about the workings of energy. John was impressive, offering information that was unexpected and quite specific. I enjoyed watching the audience member’s reactions and comments regarding how they grieved and who they loved. It was a very moving and humbling sight to behold.  He also flubbed a bit, showing he is human and fallible in this material world that we call Earth. He said teaching is his main mission now. I admire his dedication to helping others navigate the quantum world.

While I still desire to connect with the departed and get specific information from the other realms, it was not meant to be. I wonder why I was led so carefully to be at this event. I do not know. But what I am sure of is that signs and messages are everywhere and what you visualize you can realize.

PS: My buddy Dewin wants you to know about his new website Gallybloggers. It is a collection of poetry created by homeless people in his part of the world. It is a cool concept and I urge you to follow it and support this worthwhile cause.  thank you!

Glove Story

I have been spending the past few weeks honing my creative therapy skills by helping my clients dive into their emotional landscapes via music, visual arts, and writing.  This is not particularly new. I have used these modalities many times in my work as a therapist. But as a therapist who is now an active writer, this endeavor has taken some new turns.

The more I delve into my clients’ lives, the more I question my own. The mirroring that I observe is both miraculous and ordinary. If you visit here often, you know that the miraculous and ordinary usually represent the same experience for me. For example, I have a new client who I was told can be difficult to connect with. I have not seen her through that lens. We engaged in some small talk initially, which led to her revelation about art. She repeatedly said that she is not good at art, but she loves viewing it and learning about it. ”  I don’t know why I love art, I just do!” We have connected so easily because of our shared love of art. I quickly noticed that I say the same thing to others: that I am not good at art, but am a huge fan of the craft. I realize that repeating that statement undermines my delight in making art and enjoying my process. Note to Self: Halt the judgement.

I use these creative modalities in order to help others access their emotional worlds and enhance their communication skills. This emphasis on self-expression has led me to analyze further my own unique process. What is driving me? Why do I need to write? Am I incomplete in some way until I release my essence on the written page? Reading Michael’s excellent offering yesterday inspired me further to conjure up a little something for you today. The Universe never fails in complementing my inner musings with outer evidence.

So let me share a small Glove Story with you:

I used to lose my wallet repeatedly or have it stolen. This happened in both dreamtime and while awake. I figured this had to do with a weak identity. When my wallet stopped being stolen or lost, I decided the identity misgivings were resolved. I also have lost many keys in both realms, tying this into mastery and autonomy. This association works for me. Earrings also go missing, leaving me with several solo earrings in my jewelry box. This seems less symbolic and more aerodynamic. Earrings fall off or get caught on things and slip away to earringland.

But then there’s the gloves….

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I bought these oh-so-sweet gloves a few months ago. They dazzle with so many of my favorite colors, purple, gray, maroon, etc. They work so week with my plum jacket and black shawl. They are soft and warm and cozy. I have lost one glove at least three times since I first wore them. And every time I was able to retrace my steps and find the stray – until now. Tuesday night I discovered that one of the gloves was not in my jacket pocket. I was at a diner and began to search half of the entire diner, then my car, my office the next day ….  Nada.

Then I begin combing the office parking lot and the cafeteria where I ate on Tuesday. I also scaled the campus between said parking lot and cafeteria by car and foot. I discovered other sole ( soul)  gloves, but not mine. I even went back to the bathroom stall in aforementioned cafeteria. I later returned to the diner on Wednesday, again asking the same questions and receiving the same answers. Today I went back yet again to the lost and found. I even searched online to see if I could buy a new pair. They are all sold out. I called the store where I bought it and contacted the manufacturer. I also prayed for guidance.

I want my glove back. I do not know why I am so obsessed. I have other gloves that are nice. But they are not enough somehow. I told myself in a few weeks it will be much warmer ( heck it’s spring-like now!) and I will not need to wear gloves. I realize this is a frivolous, high-class problem. But something deeper lurks. Something is stirring within that leaves me sad and unsettled.

Maybe it would be different if I had made peace with my father before he died, or if I could have caught Dexter’s heart problem before it took his life, or if I remained in one neighborhood and school for my entire childhood, or if I was taught that I was always enough simply because IAM. But I wasn’t taught and it is not different.

This Glove Story has no ending. In fact, it has only begun to brew, like a fresh teabag covered in tepid water.

My Best Friend For Life

July 12th will mark the one year anniversary of Dexter’s passing. Tomorrow will be more poignant for me because he passed on a Sunday. I am beginning to receive signs, some of which are rather bold, that is time to seriously explore adopting a new cat. While I will consider this guidance carefully, a part of me is still not quite ready. Dexter made me better, and I do not know if another soul can bring out the best that is left inside my soul.

Here is an old post written a week after Dex’s passing. It is heartfelt and chock full of excellent resources. Please send me some light tomorrow and show your loved ones how much they mean to you. It is everything.

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It has been incredibly challenging to simply survive this week. One week ago today, my beloved Dexter transitioned to another realm. So far this is a realm I cannot reach. I sincerely thank everyone here for their love and support. My longtime readers know that this year has not been an easy one. Your unwavering loyalty is priceless.

While writing is both my joy and my solace, words have not come easily to me lately. My pain is too great and my motivation too meager. Yet I do have a message to convey and I will attempt to do so to the best of my ability.

The week that Dexter died was a very busy one. While I know the word busy is relative, for me the increase in activity was substantial. Tuesday was the dentist, Wednesday and Thursday Caryn visited me, and Friday I took my car to the shop. Saturday, my last full day with Dexter was a blur, except for posting about master/students late at night. Sunday, of course, was my own private circle of hell. I wish I could remember more of my final day at home with Dexter, but I don’t. Unfortunately the details of last Sunday seem to be on a rotating loop inside my heart.

But I want to go back to earlier in the week to share some resources that have helped me and may help others who “stumble” upon my blog. Caryn and I have not been together in Philly since the 1990s. We did hang out last fall in NY after reconnecting on FB. I plan to blog about what brought me to NY, but that draft is not ready for completion. Caryn and I were so so busy: special Impressionist exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, movie night at an old lovely theater, 2 incredible meals ( one was Indian since we both adore it!) and a mini road trip to Longwood Gardens. Our 2 days were go go go and rather frenetic. The weather was horrible both days and my patience often wore thin. Yet grace did surround us in many ways: a deer crossing on a road where this “never” happens; a “random” encounter with a waiter that was filled with synchronicity, a gratis fruit platter that was a work of art in itself and discounts off our bill; and  the sheer joy of watching Caryn frolicking at Longwood for the very first time. The waterlilies  I am sharing were a highlight of this particular visit for me. They were not in bloom during my last two trips.

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Another source of peace was Matt Kahn. On Wednesday Caryn and I spoke about relationships and the nature of connections. That very evening I come home to notice a brand new video by Matt on soul mates and twin flames. In it he mentions, among many other things, that for some a soul mate may be their pet. This idea prompted me to refer to Dexter as my soul mate on my latest post. Matt refers to a soul mate as a balancing counterpart with little drama or intensity, but great love. While I do not agree with every point made, I find Matt’s take on the different type of soul connections to be fascinating and quite revelatory. This information is especially relevant in regards to next week’s Venus retrograde event.  I offer his video here:

 

Now I want to share some resources that have softened the loss by providing a rare understanding of my bond with my cats ( and most animals and inhabitants of the natural world) and some insight into the grieving process.

They are both courtesy of  Caryn and Karin, “the Carings” in my life. Caryn provided me with this link that really spoke to me. I am very picky about these grief expert offerings, perhaps because I provide these services in my work, or because I am quite discerning. In any case, this article was profoundly insightful. For those who may not understand the connection between human and animal, please take a look and your impressions may shift.

http://www.anaflora.com/grieving/beloved/beloved.html

I especially like both these passages:

The love of an animal permits us to unfold, to open up, drop our defenses and to be naked, not only physically but psychologically and spiritually as well. With an animal we let ourselves be seen instead of hiding behind our personalities, our cultures, our jobs, our clothing or our makeup. They know us as no one else does, in our private joys, angry rages, deepest despair, in sickness and in health. All the while their calm steady presence companions us with an unwavering love like few others on this earth. Our animal companions see through us to the very soul of our soul, encouraging the unfolding of a sacred trust. If there is such a thing as a soul mate, then surely this is it.

Many people have never been blessed with, or felt for themselves, the true love of an animal. They are incapable of understanding that your love for an animal may surpass your love for the humans that are the closest to you. It is a different bond, in a way, more profound; something only the heart understands. What I have learned over the years, as a student of grief and a student of many spiritual traditions, is that no guru, guide, master or friend no matter how enlightened can comfort the heart that believes it has lost what it holds most dear. Whether grieving ourselves, or consoling a grieving friend, often the most useful thing we can do is to simply tell our story. For in the story of our own journey through the gates of grief, or in bearing witness to the grief of another, we can at least legitimize the experience and make it “Sacred.”

Karin turned me on to this excellent video with medium Danielle MacKinnon that was posted just a few days ago. While I do hold some skepticism regarding animal communicators, Danielle is someone who naturally conveys authenticity and warmth. Please check it out if you are called to explore this topic further. What really struck me most was the question posed near the end of the interview.:

 Animals choose to pass at a particular time.  Ask yourself : What was it about this time that has meaning for you?

Here is the link for the video: https://wingingwithwhitehawk.wordpress.com/2015/07/16/pets-in-the-afterlife/

Finally I want to share some closing thoughts. It is so ironic that I have been so successful as a grief counselor. So very many clients over the years suffered unimaginable trauma and loss. I seem to be rather effective at facilitating healing for those in pain and was quite driven to focus on this area of therapy. Personally though, I suck at loss and death. I do not judge how I grieve, so please do not misconstrue my meaning. I just do not like to let go. I do not detach easily, especially if the bond was deep. Losing my first cat brought me to the brink of depression from which I doubted I would ever recover. Yet I did recover and I will recover from this loss. But this journey has just begun…

Let me conclude with a song that helps express the enormity of my love for Dexter. When I call him my best friend and soul mate, I am not exaggerating. It does not mean I do not love or have not loved other human beings deeply.

Dexter

It’s just different.


For a tribute to Dexter circa 2013ish, please visit OM’s site here.

On Living and Dying Day 17 by litebeing

Please check out my guest post on Sreejit’s year-long series On Living and Dying. This exploration was cathartic and quite timely. There is still time to contribute, so email Sreejit if you are interested.

The Seeker's Dungeon

All Is Not What It Seems

by litebeing of litebeing chronicles

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…

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Purple Forever

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I was preparing to buy groceries when the news came in. Prince is gone at age 57. Think tender and brash, shy and overtly sexual. Think 1999, Purple Rain, Diamonds and Pearls, The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, Raspberry Beret, Little Red Corvette, Money Don’t Matter Tonight etc.  Just Tuesday afternoon while I was driving to a medical appointment, Purple Rain came on the radio. I have not heard it in quite some time. I became very emotional and was surprised by my reaction. Could I have been sent a message foreshadowing this event? Quite likely.

I learned today that he also had an emergency visit to the hospital on 4-14-16 and was also released on 4-15-16.

But I am here and he is not.

 

wikipedia.org pub domain

I do not have the energy to write a complete post. He had a Gemini Sun, Pisces Moon, and Scorpio Rising. His chart aligns very strongly with my Pluto Mercury signature. We both loved Purple and adored paisley.  Similar to Edward Snowden’s signature as well. To learn more about the Gemini Scorpio mix, please check out this article I wrote about Joan Rivers and Johnny Carson.

Have not gotten around to my Bowie retrospective yet. These things take time for me. I do not digest easily and it is the bane of my existence. I must learn how to absorb and transmit at a faster clip.

My header will remain up in its purple glory in memory of His Purpleness.

 

RIP PRINCE

WHERE HAVE ALL OUR ICONS GONE?

 

Listen here for Prince’s Super Bowl performance.

 

image credits ~ Prince symbol- wikipedia.org, fair use, paisley -wikipedia.org, public domain, fair use, header image - "ScorpionFog" wikipedia commons, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

Guest post by litebeing of “litebeing chronicles”

Thank you Shannon for having me guest post for your wonderful blog on surviving grief. I hope my experiences will inspire and offer comfort to others who are in the throes of grief.

Surviving Grief


Litebeing delights in assisting others in self-discovery as a blogger, astrologer, teacher, artist, mentor, writer, therapist, dreamer, intuitive guide, light worker and mystic. She has been blogging at litebeing chronicles for three years.


The theme of litebeing chronicles is a glimpse into my everyday life, showing how the light shines through on a moment- to- moment basis. The light may vary from a tiny flicker to a strong ray to a magnificent rainbow to a blinding shaft of white light. The blog also chronicles my reactions to the cosmic weather. The cosmic weather varies and leaves us with joy, elation, inner peace, sadness, doubts, questions, hope, and resignation. I have experienced tremendous miracles, devastating grief and loss, and everything in between. I hope to inspire others as I record my reactions as I continue to heal, regroup, and advance on my path. The reactions may be in the form of…

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Pluto Mars Madness

US free domain wikipedia.org

Hello there, all new followers. Welcome to the family! Don’t be shy. Please let me know how you like the blog and what types of content you are interested in reading.

How many times have you heard about dramatic messages from Spirit?

There have been several instances both off and online where “the Red Sea parts” for some famous author, celebrity, or New Age teacher. My cynical side would wonder, ” This must have been exaggerated for sensationalism and to increase book sales.”

While there is little if anything that surprises me anymore, it is still healthy to apply discernment whenever you encounter something that seems too good to be true.

In any case, while I still have some pieces in draft form, I have an interesting tale that relates to the mystical, watery, ephemeral side of life. I am thinking of the 4th, 8th, and 12th houses, along with both of Scorpio’s rulers, Mars and Pluto. While Mars is the incredibly fiery ruler of Aries, it was the original planet associated with intense, passionate, volatile Scorpio. Pluto just re-entered my 12th house for an extended stay. It was only straddling the cusp in 2015, barely whispering in my ear. Now I sense more of the transition from the 11th to the 12th.

The 12th house rules institutions, the subconscious, and the unconscious. We are talking confinement, shadows, the hidden and the buried. Good times indeed! My desire to work with a medium had continued to increase to the point where I was ready to do something about it. Although my 8th house is empty, I am strongly Scorpion in nature with a lifelong interest in the occult. While I do not consciously possess mediumistic abilities, my fascination with the afterlife is strong and persistent.

This weekend I met with a gifted medium.Transiting Pluto was opposing natal Mars and transiting Mars was squaring natal Pluto on the day of the session. One could call this a double whammy. Meeting on this particular day was not planned way in advance, mind you. The opportunity came on quite suddenly.

While I am not at the point of revealing details, I will say that it was incredibly emotional and a bit cathartic. I also believe that Source has been preparing me for this opportunity behind the scenes.

The last question I asked the medium was if my own abilities to connect with the departed would increase as a result of the reading. The answer was an emphatic yes.

Now for the reveal:

The following evening after my reading, I was drawn to re-read Sylvia Browne’s world predictions. I have at least four of her books and am a huge fan of hers. I used to tape her regular appearances on the Montel Williams show. I did not remember which book had this material, but I figured my bedroom closet was the most likely location. The top shelf is very high, so I stood on my tippy toes to grab the book with her name on the sleeve. The book came tumbling down along with my Goddess tarot cards, my healing cards, and a few other books. The tarot cards spilled all over the floor and I had plenty of stuff to clean up. While this was happening,  I flashed to a story in an old Shirley MacLaine book where an important book leaped off the shelves to get her attention. The Sylvia Browne book that created the avalanche was not the one I was originally searching for. But on the carpet near the scattered cards I found a cat’s whisker. Then I turned over the Sylvia Browne book that I had identified at the top of my closet shelf. Imagine my shock when I read the title.

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This is the second time I found a whisker after Dexter’s passing. The thought occurred to me that these whiskers could be from my previous cat, but I doubt it. In all the years since my first cat died, I never recall discovering a whisker.

I think this experience really qualifies as a dramatic “Other Side” encounter. I wonder who or what put the idea in my head to search for the book on predictions. The subtle impressions we receive are often overlooked. I am more comfortable with the visual so I tend to minimize non-visual stimuli. That could be an error on my part. I am sharing this here to celebrate the wonder of Spirit communication and to say that we are more likely to create what seems impossible if we keep ourselves open.

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check out Dexter’s fierce whiskers!

 

Please share in the comments section if you have ever found a whisker or other souvenir after your pet transitioned. What about wild, dramatic, experiences that resulted in contact from Spirit?

image credits ~ previously used public domain images(header) wikiart.org, (first image) wikipedia.org

Dexter Rising

Dexter circa 2011ish
Dexter circa 2011ish

The snow is really piling up outside and I am loving it. The header image was taken earlier today. I welcome the change of scenery as it evokes a new mood inside of me. When something novel happens at home, I automatically think of Dexter. He would have been glued to the windows propped up on hind legs, taking in the action.

Most long time readers know that Dexter had been an integral part of litebeing chronicles. His picture is on my about page and he is mentioned in several posts. He taught me more about love than everyone else combined. He loved hanging out in that special spot on my couch. This shot was taken many years ago, perhaps 2011 or 2012. My former cat Jasmine also fancied that very spot. Perhaps it is all mapped out in the top-secret feline handbook.

I worry that I may forget him more and more over time. I recall so little about Jasmine and she lived with me 16 years. Maybe this has more to do with the passage of time as it affects my consciousness. Part of grieving for me is the sadness as shared moments fade.

However, I experienced something odd and unusual that is definitely blog-worthy:

The pieces come together more in retrospect so I will walk you through it piece by piece. A few days ago I looked under my coffee table and discovered a whisker. I had not noticed it there before. I was filled with joy to find a piece of Dexter that remains intact ( on the physical plane.) I have held onto it, an angel’s feather if you will. Then a couple of days later I was dusting a bookshelf and took the decorations off the shelves. I put them on the floor. As I began putting them back up, I discovered a brightly colored round object. It is one of Dexter’s toys. I was amazed to see it. I thought that I had gathered them all up right after his passing.

Then I was led to google Dexter the Cat to see what came up. I learned about a comic character Dex-Starr. While there are many glaring differences, I enjoyed the narrative.

To learn more, visit this link:    http://greenlantern.wikia.com/wiki/Dex-Starr

The following morning, after discovering the toy and comic icon, I was involved in a mysterious interaction. I think it was a dream about being awake, but there could be multiple explanations. I was asleep in my bed and I felt this furry being above my head on the pillow. It was giving me furry head bumps. Then it rubbed its furry self on the top of my head. Dexter loved to run up on the pillows, despite my displeasure. He also was a fan of the occasional head bump. Then the scene went dark and I was petting this large cat on his head and his back. I did not see anything. He was warm and soft and very alive. A second or two later, I was laying in my bed recalling these events. I immediately thought of Dexter. My next instinct was to check the clock. It was a few minutes before 4:00 AM. That is prime liminal time.  There ares stories online about ghost cats visiting their owners ( parents).

Here is a link to a blog featuring a cool ghost cat video:

http://seeksghosts.blogspot.com/2011/03/ghost-cats.html

In my case, I did not see anything. My experience was strictly tactile. I have not as of yet seen any Spirits of deceased loved ones, or any Spirits at all. None that I am aware of. But this “visitation” combined with the previous events has me wondering what really happened.

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I have missed him more intensely the past few weeks. The rhythms of grief differ from person to person.

Having this cosmic love exchange was just what I needed.