Life And Death, entwined in an incredible journey – and goodbye to a young, talented man.

One morning, around 8.30 am, I was walking through our local wood with our dog. We had already been along the beach and back, and it was a lovely morning… in fact more than lovely. There was a spiritual beauty in everything – the calm, clear blue sea, the sun glinting off several high-flying planes, all leaving iridescent trails in a cloudless sky. The sweet scent of white blossom, mingled with the coconut aroma of bright yellow gorse. The birds, dipping and swooping, a robin, fearlessly collecting tiny sticks from the pathway in front of us, ducks splashing around in the river – all set to a magnificent soundtrack of rock music, blasting through my headphones. (Since writing this blog, our beloved Tink left this world. We haven’t felt ready to revisit the wood or the beach just yet… it would feel so odd, without her.) 

And then, just as I had reached my favourite part of the wood, where the river bends, and the scurrying water tumbles over and around the rocks and tree branches, something behind me and to my right caught my attention. I turned around to ‘see’ an elderly lady sitting on the bench, and she was looking directly at me. She smiled, and patted the seat next to her. I acknowledged her, but kept walking; I have been aware of non-physical people many times before, and tend to respond to them as I would to anyone ‘real’… smile and nod, and go on my way. 

However, something caused me to hesitate, and I turned around to sit alongside her. I recognised that she was small in height, slightly built, hair pinned at the back of her head, and dressed in black – there was definitely something stylish about her! She exuded calm, and joyousness, and I just knew that this lady had been a real force to be reckoned with – and that she loved dancing, and God! She didn’t tell me this, of course. You see, the communication between those in the physical form, and those in the non-physical form, is about feeling, rather than words. I felt her joy, I felt her love of God… except that it didn’t come to me as God, it came to me as ‘The Lord’. She expressed to me that we need to be true to who we are, and that human beings sometimes struggle to understand passion and exuberance and natural joy. She assured me that The Lord understands me, and ‘has my back’.

Now, at this point, I feel it’s important to explain that when I say I ‘saw’ her, I wasn’t using my eyes. I was seeing with my mind. I don’t see non-physical souls as if they are flesh and blood… they show themselves to me rather like holograms. After all, a ‘deceased’ person no longer has a physical body – they are pure, vibrating energy!

I believe she picked up on my own energy, and the depth of my sense of gratitude and awe, for being with our beloved dog, on such a beautiful day, in such a wonderful location, listening to my favourite music, with a head full of hopeful plans… and an underlying anxiety about HOW to achieve all that I want to! I am so pleased that I stopped and shared a few moments with her. Although I am unlikely to ever ‘see’ her again, I know that I will always remember her. 

And crossing paths with her probably wasn’t a coincidence; I had recently been giving the subject of communication with those who have passed on a lot of consideration. I used to give public demonstrations (running into the hundreds, I imagine), but I stepped back from them, around three years ago. These days I no longer do much along those lines, or actively promote it as a service – but not because I don’t believe.

Over a long period of time, I questioned, contemplated, and soul-searched. I became more and more fascinated by the wider and broader aspect of our existence. There is no doubt in my mind that awareness continues beyond physical death, and that there are many, many journeys for each of us yet to take. I believe entirely in the potential and the power of the spirit; I believe that each one of us is a soul – a tiny shard of the creative source of all existence – and that our spirit is the essence of us – it is the nature of the relationship we develop with life whilst we are here, in the physical world… and, that our spirit is the only thing we take with us when we die.

I continue to see and feel non-physical visitors, here and there, and I know for sure that the emotion, energy and passion we put into life, whilst we are here, goes with us when we come to the end of this experience called life on Earth. I will always want to genuinely feel the energy of the communicators… not just know things like they wore blue shoes and a red hat: otherwise, how can I know that they are still very much ‘alive’?

Young souls create such a ripple…

Recently (at the time of writing), a young man I had never had the pleasure to meet, died suddenly and publicly. He was a lovely, ambitious, polite, hard-working and much loved soul. There was no mystery to his passing from a physical point of view; he was engaged in a highly dangerous sport, and many others had gone before him – but not recently, thanks to rigorous efforts made in the name of safety. It was one of those situations in which a second either way would probably have led to a completely different outcome – it was an accident that no-one realistically could have anticipated or planned for. But none of that was of any consolation to his family, friends, colleagues, and fans. You could ask the question, “why him, with such a bright future ahead? What is the reason, the point? Especially when there are so many wrong-doers still allowed to breathe the same air as the rest of us?” And I would have to say, “I honestly, truthfully don’t know.” I really wish that I did. There is much that cannot acceptably be explained away, and we have no choice other than to live with it. However, what interests me more is the journey that a soul takes, following their death; after all, aren’t we all going to die one day? Isn’t this something we should all be interested in? It isn’t morbid or sick to want to understand more about that aspect of our existence; in fact, surely it is more healthy to be open to it than closed and fearful?

Having said that, I completely understand that none of us wants to think about the loss of our loved ones, or about us leaving them behind to cope without us. That is heartbreaking. But the fact still remains that we are all going to take that journey one day, and I believe that becoming more informed could possibly make loss a little bit easier. Most of us don’t fear our own passing, and it isn’t death, as such, that is the problem – it is the sense of loss that is so agonising and that we dread the most. But, if we could feel the essence of that person, if we knew for sure that they retained a sense of self and awareness, and that they were engaged in something meaningful, surely that would help?

As for the young man, I opened my mind and asked for a connection with him if possible, aware that I would be very blessed if it happened. I did ‘see’ him, in my usual way, briefly, and the initial sense was one of great concern for his loved ones, combined with a sense of wonderment. I understood him to be one who paid attention to detail, who genuinely loved what he did, and who was fascinated by every aspect of it. And I knew that he could feel the essence of his heroes who had gone before, and that he would continue to create, and to absorb knowledge, in line with his passion. You see, everything has to exist energetically before it can exist physically, and nothing is ever lost or rendered unimportant. The ideas and inventions that come from human minds are plucked, albeit unconsciously, from the great creative store of life. And human experience is a very precious commodity indeed, absorbed by the collective soul, with every physical death. You can imagine the energy of the passionate, expressive, competitive and brave soul, can’t you? And you can be open to the idea that energy doesn’t die, or dissipate like smoke escaping up a chimney? 

As a result of that young man’s life, and his death, something will change in this world. He will live on in the hearts of his friends/competitors, and you can bet that projects will be created in his name, for the benefit of others. Safety will also be tightened again, where possible. No-one ever, ever, ever wants to lose a person they love, especially a child… but those who go young appear to have a special purpose, because their passing often has a bigger impact, and a wider ripple effect, than those of us who live to an ‘acceptable’ age (no disrespect to us, of course! We all leave something of worth behind, in our own way). I don’t know why he had to go, at that moment, and on that day… and that is the scary thing about death – we have no choice other than to live with the uncertainty, which is why it is easier not to think about it at all. What I do know is that his spirit is strong, that he is ‘alive’ in the most powerful way, and that he is continuing to expand his experience and his knowledge. And, that his loved ones will feel his presence from time to time, and will hear from him again, in whatever way he is able to reach them. And as for me, I will never forget him. 

If you have found this this blog interesting, you might also enjoy my books, Our Life Beyond Death, and, How The ‘Dead’ Connect With Us – And Vice Versa. They are available on kindle and paperback.

   

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An intuitive consultant, blogger and writer; a lover of motorbikes, Formula 1 motor racing, music, reading, walking, camping and ongoing self - improvement!

2 thoughts on “Life And Death, entwined in an incredible journey – and goodbye to a young, talented man.

  1. i came to see you in cemaes bay.
    Id lost my mum a few months before i was very close to her we used to spend every day together at each others house.
    She was my best friend so when she went i was obviously devasted then i came to see you
    yoy described her to a tee and everything you said was right even my father came thtough.I was amazed at how accurate you were,It was a lovely feeling it helped me tremendously and id like to thank you with all my heart for making her passing a lot easier to bear xx

    Like

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