Last week, I was a bit freaked out about a prominent vein that seemed to suddenly appear in the lower part of my calf. I told my husband to look at it...now. "Look at that! What is that? It's making me sick. What is that? It's disgusting! I feel like I'm going to throw up!"
"Well then stop looking at it!" he yelled.
Since I turned 50, something happened to me. I have become neurotic about things like bulbous veins, receding gums, hair color, excess cortisol, and whether or not my green eyes will turn brown (my grandmother told me this one: one day, yes, one day after I turn 50 and have no hopes [say what?], those lovely green eyes will turn brown because that's what they do when they lose their lustre...and my mother added, "No, mom, it's because she'll be so full of shit by then that..." Oh how I love my family...may God rest your sweet souls, mom and grandma).
But there are positive sides to being over-the-hill, middle-aged, past prime and having, as grandma said, no hopes. My spiritual side seems to be growing and I am becoming more curious, investigative and ponderous about getting it right this time around. I have been trying to meditate more, pray more, seek more and worry less. Key word here is, "trying."
Part of my worry is that if I don't get it right, when I finally buy the farm and cross over onto the next plane, "they" are going to drop kick me back into some Godforsaken place, screaming, "Do it again! And don't come back until you get it right!" [sound of door slamming].
Let me tell you: I do not want to come back to planet Earth. I can barely take it right now.
I recently read the book, "Many Lives, Many Masters," by Brian Weiss, at the suggestion of a dear friend. We talked about the book just after the death of her sister, Alison, who also was, is, and has been, a dear friend of mine for over 30 years.
When Lauren suggested the book, I was unsure. A bit skeptical. A bit hopeful. And more than a little frightened. The book, however, was a major page turner and it answered many questions I've had about life, death, and beyond. Whether the book is accurate, or believable, is up to the reader and his or her own belief system. It convinced me of many things, not the least of which was that my dreams about Alison were real. That she really did have something to say to me and that, perhaps, I hadn't created it on my own; rather, Alison had done the creating.
When her brother spoke at Alison's funeral, he said, "I speak at this point for Alison: 'You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.'"
These past few weeks since her death, that message has continually come back to me in various forms. Recently, an older book mixed in with newer bestsellers at Border's Books stood out on the rack. I picked it up and, having heard of it before but never really knowing what it was about, I began flipping through its pages. It began to make sense to me. Someone was trying to tell me something. It was a fiction novel about the soul.
Later that evening, staring at the veins that had somehow gone back to their rightful place (although I was keeping a watchful eye, just in case...), I wondered about various thoughts, dreams, ideas. There is no coincidence, someone told me not long ago.
And then, a movie that my husband and I watched (and he had chosen without my knowledge of the movie until he had popped it in and pressed play) grabbed me and brought those thoughts to the forefront again. Never mind the fact that the movie was a strange comedy. But, its theme encompassed spirituality, living, dying, being born again. I thought about it for days afterward.
The other morning, while pondering the twist of my right index finger and wondering why in the hell I have such ugly feet, I decided that there are messages all around us. Everyday. And there are answers. But because of our own fears and because of strict teachings, we have been fearful to think about other possibilities - such as everlasting life beyond what catechism taught us.
And then...I saw her last night in a dream. She told me something. Nothing special. At least not that I am aware of, but something. I sat with her, bathed in light, and it made me smile to see her teeth glint and sparkle as she smiled back at me. It was then that, without words, she spoke again, and I knew she was all right. She was where she wanted to be.
Unfortunately, when I woke this morning, the prominent vein was back again, I was still 50, and those many stressors currently going on in my life sprang back to the front of the lineup of things going on in my head. Despite all of that, I've learned to be grateful for dreams and for the comfort they can provide, grateful for people we love, for people who teach us lessons, for karma (or, as my dad would say, "God'll get him for that"), for trusting my instincts, and for loving unconditionally, even when I sometimes want to throw in the towel and isolate myself from the rest of the world.
Having continued to grow spiritually and learn more and more, like a snowball rolls down a mountain on a moist snowy day, getting ever bigger, I have one major neurotic fear at this point. That my vehement exclamations over the years stating, "In my next life, I'm gonna be a nun!!!", may just come true. I need to start meditating on that one. NOW.
Copyright 2010 liamsgrandma
