Sometimes I wake up at 3am and lay awake in bed for an hour or more, hoping to go back to sleep, but my mind starts to drift. Sometimes I get up and quietly write something on the computer (for my blog, or the book I’ve been writing over the last ten years). Sometimes I meditate, pray, cry, and then meditate some more. Other times I go on a crystal journey (meditating with one or more special crystals near or on my body), which nearly every time takes me on an inward path where I find the gentle solace of a holy place.
My grandfather used to say, “Stop and smell the roses.” Somehow, I feel when I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s because I didn’t take that time to smell the roses that day, or if I did, now I’m caught up in the mystery of it all. Had I been as fully aware as I could be, that the moment I was smelling the rose, I was standing in the presence of something timeless? Grace washing over me? My thoughts become almost tangible and palpable. As I lay there in bed, my heart becomes so open that I think it will leave my body! My huge open heart resonates with a feeling of connection with all.
I believe everything happens for a reason. I cry about things that cannot be changed, about which I feel guilty, or ashamed. Gradually, I let those thoughts go. I remember good times. I remember the friends and family who have transitioned. I miss them. I cry some more. Then, oddly, I begin very slowly, almost like a train steadily slowing as it arrives at a station, to breathe, and allow myself just to psychically embrace each of them. I remember each persons face, what it felt like to be near them, perhaps as we were going somewhere, dancing, talking, or such. I send them my love. I tell them, “Though I miss you fiercely, I know you are in perfect health, wonderful peace, and like the molecules of air around and IN me, you are still near me. And I love you. Thank you. Thank you ever so much dear heart for ALL you gave me. For helping me be who I am NOW.”
Sometimes after a stretch of time, I fall back to sleep. Other times, I write for hours before deciding it’s time to shower and get ready to prepare for my day.
There have been times that the connection I feel to my friends and loved ones, during these middle of the night mental sojourns are so strong, they seem vividly real. But, more often than not, the “visit” is faint, and dissipates into a near whisper. I am imagining, right? I mean, just because it feels real, it cannot be so. Or can it? As I do not limit God, perhaps there is a way to connect and spend time with my loved ones–and I am not only referring to those who have passed on, but even with those who are not living physically near me.
I don’t pretend to know what fills empty space, though the new frontiers of science is finding that what they used to think was empty space, is actually “filled” with “something”–though they do not yet know what. Could that mean that my mystical musings in the middle of the night are when I mysteriously meander through a holy place? It certainly does feel like it’s a sanctuary for me.
I’ve learned that when I move too quickly through a day, too caught in all of the “doing”, that I can easily walk by people, places, and things, unaware of the blessings or hidden messages that they might provide. Have I “walked by” people, places, or things, too preoccupied to notice the richness, the magnificence, or the subtle profound vibrations each offer me?
Realizing that I can always STOP, and consciously choose to pay attention to even the smallest of things, my heart dances with joy! I am open!
I actively seek. And I know when we honestly seek, eventually, we will find. I do not need a crown of jewels when I get to Heaven (whatever do people expect to do with those anyway?) but instead, I’d rather trade anxieties for peaceful moments, sadness, feelings of loss, or thoughts of missing those I love most, into balanced emotions, joy, and dare I say, pure bliss NOW–while I’m alive! Isn’t that the true definition of having good mental health?
I go back again and again in my mind to my grandfather’s mantra. Regardless of the season, weather or time of day, I don’t want to miss the roses. When I leave this place, my spirit, mind, and body will have lived fully, changed much, and heartily, truthfully, given as deeply as I knew how–to those who received me.
I speak a mindful thought to someone. Then POOF! And it’s gone.