Archive for the ‘Creation’ Category

I just heard the commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs at Stanford University in June, 2005.  Below is an excerpt from this speech (the “third story”).  This is a powerful story with even more meaning now in the wake of his untimely death.

“When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Video of his full address to Stanford: 

This question has been asked since mankind reached consciousness and it has certainly driven me forward in my life quest, in searching for meaning in life.   I think many people, regardless of religious tradition or beliefs, will generally agree that our basic goals should be to make a difference in this world and to contribute to others.

Or, in loftier terms, as I suggested in the post “Searching for Nirvana” - to find peace and love, to live in harmony, to create a better world for our children and to surpass the limits of the form we were born into, to evolve the human spirit to new heights…

But while my underlying commitment is about living my life to achieve these ideals, I find that I often fall short of them in my everyday life.  The daily grind, the limits of our human bodies, the endless chatter of our mind, the upsets and frustration we all experience (not to mention the way business and society dictate our behaviours) not only get in the way but often derail us.  So, I sometimes find myself in conflict with people (which always depresses me) and not always exuding the warmth and balance that I strive to demonstrate to others.  This, in turn, can lead to a desire to escape, to be alone, to avoid too much contact or intimacy with the other humans on the planet, lest I misbehave further… hardly an enlightened approach.

One overriding lesson I’ve learned is that it is very difficult for an unhappy, depressed, or angry person to exude warmth and love, to create a space to truly contribute to others, or as Oprah has so eloquently put it: “to be the change you want to see in the world”.  So, our number one priority must be to take care of ourselves.  Consider that if you are ‘happy’ then you are more able to be with people such that they will feel better in your presence. (The old analogy of the airline’s safety rule stating that you must put your oxygen mask on first before assisting others holds true.)  I believe the enlightened individuals on our planet, those we look up to and strive to emulate, understand this, continuing to do the work on themselves while accomplishing monumental tasks for the planet.   They have a deeper sense of their soul’s purpose.

Speaking of giants, I came across Oprah’s Soul Series on XM Radio yesterday.  She was interviewing Brian Weiss which was a great ‘coincidence’ as I had recently read his first book ” Many Lives Many Masters: The True Story Of A Prominent Psychiatrist, His Young Patient & The Past-Life Therapy That Changed Both Their Lives”, as well as a book called “Journey of Souls: Case Studies of Life between Lives” by Michael Newton, PhD.  If you haven’t read them and are open-minded (or perhaps, especially, if you are not), then I highly recommend both authors.  They are both professional therapists who have worked in the field of past-life regression for decades.  They both have a great many documented case studies of patients who have recounted stories about past lives, and even more interesting to me, the soul’s journey between lives.

The original question that I posed – “why are we here?” takes on a much deeper dimension when you consider this viewpoint.  If the heartaches and challenges and struggles of your life were actually selected especially for you (possibly by you), as lessons that you must learn, obstacles that you must overcome, on your soul’s journey, does this change your perspective?  Face them now or you’ll just come back and do it all over again.   Do the work on yourself now.  Be the best person you can be.  Contribute to the people around you with your whole heart.

Another thought-provoking angle is the idea of soul groups which means that many people closest to you have been part of your existence for many lives and beyond.  If you believe this then you can more easily accept their passing and your own when the time comes.  It also puts new meaning, for me, to the concept of contributing to others in this lifetime.  Some advanced souls may only be here for a short visit, to touch our lives, to steer us towards our life lessons.

I believe that everyone is here for a reason and that everybody begins life with something special.   To rise above our life circumstances, to be our best selves and recognize what those gifts are, is part of our quest, our life’s greater purpose.  Some are born rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, brilliant or dull, physically superior or handicapped.  Most of us are somewhere in the middle of these extremes but, regardless of our physical and situational traits, our deeper being has something more to offer in this life.  We all have a unique ability or vision to share with others that can make a difference and allow us to live a fulfilling life, to advance our soul’s journey.

As humans, we are on a collective journey to find peace and love, to live in harmony, to create a better world for our children and to surpass the limits of the form we were born into, to evolve the human spirit to new heights.  Some may call it a search for nirvana (not the 90′s grunge band!). 

Yet, why over the course of human history, and even today, is there so much violence and suffering?  Why do so many of us contribute to the discord and suffering in our daily lives and interactions with our fellow humans?  Eckhart Tolle in his truly inspiring video called “Finding Your Life’s Purpose” provides a clear, concise recipe for stopping the insanity and reaching a pure state of consciousness where we will find that collective peace and can begin to create transformation in our world.

Everything that Tolle has produced (books, DVD’s, CD’s, lectures) leads you on this path to the ultimate state of being, living in the now, present to the collective spirit and power of humanity.  If you’re not already a fan, check out his web site at www.eckharttolle.com to see everything that he has to offer.

Today I want to share some key lessons from Tolle’s DVD that struck a chord with me.

Our ‘mental noise’ distracts us from our true purpose, from reaching these heights.  Our endless thoughts, largely based on our illusions about the past, are constantly churning and often repetitive.  Most of them you have thought many, many times, and the negative ones can have more power and be more frequent than the positive ones.  We do not need to be dragged along by the mental noise, by every thought that arises. 

Instead we must be present in the now.  It is all that truly exists.  The future is an illusion, doesn’t exist except as a thought, it is a conceptual thing.   Be aware, present, find the aliveness within by putting attention on your body, on breathing in and out, on the stillness between thoughts.  Use awareness of your breathing as an anchor for being present…

The essence of our thinking mind is that it is usually thinking about the past or the future and it is conditioned by our illusions and judgements about what happened in the past.  But can you find the dimension within yourself that exists outside the thinking mind?

Our primary purpose in life does not involve time yet we find it hard to believe in a purpose that does not require expectations about the ‘future’.  My primary purpose right now is to sit in my chair, hands on the keyboard, breathe in and out and share the wonderful lessons that Tolle has given to the world.  The universe has put me here, right now, and this is exactly what I am supposed to be doing.

What you are doing, wherever you are, right now, you are fulfilling your life’s purpose yet your mind doesn’t think that makes sense…  if you’re already here, how can that be your purpose?

So to be here fully, you must align yourself with this moment in eternity, and know that wherever you are, is exactly where you’re supposed to be but this is hard because the mind will expect that everything you “do” must just be a means to an “end”.  As the “end” is in the future, which is really just a thought/concept in your mind, we can become ‘frustrated’ causing us to live in constant discontent or fear.  Being present means every moment that you are ‘doing’ or being, can be joyous and fulfilling. 

Remember, our primary purpose is to be aligned with the NOW which we cannot do if we are always trapped in our minds, living only for the next thing to happen..

So, we must stop living in the phantom world of the mind, constantly judging and labelling and reviewing everything that happens and everyone we encounter (this is the insanity, the dysfunction of our existence), and believing our own stories about who we are.

Instead, be present to the other dimension of your being, to the formless presence that exists in the stillness, between thoughts, that is your very essence.  You will only find it in the NOW before consciousness becomes thought, a sense perception, your interpretation, your stories about the past, etc., etc…

Sadly, if you read our history books or watch the news, you will be reminded that the collective human ego has wreaked havoc and human suffering for millenia.  If there is no shift in our consciousness then the madness will continue.  How can our species survive unless there’s a change in our collective spirit, our consciousness?  The only way that we can affect such as a transformation is by working on our own individual consciousness.

So, from the point of view of a truly present, enlightened being, you will be able to feel the sacredness of the world around you, of our universe, the sky, the garden, the people around you but when your mind takes everything down to a conceptual state, using judgement and thought, this can deaden the beauty around you.

There is a vast power in the inner stillness of this formless dimension of consciousness.  

Achieving this state, right now, in this moment, is our ultimate life purpose..

I recommend that you get Tolle’s DVD and listen to it yourself.

Love and Peace to all…

Hello friends, 

I’m offering some personal reflections as a means of enhancing the feelings of peace, love, compassion, tranquility, fellowship … which exist in every moment of every day of our lives, but sometimes become overshadowed by events which sadden or frighten us. As well, it is a way to connect to those of you who ‘talk the same language’ as me … have been walking along a similar path of spiritual discovery, because I think now more than ever, we need to support each other in our quest to bring as much harmony, love and peace into this world as possible.

Upon learning of the death of two volunteer firemen here in Listowel this week, I have been aware of how often my mind and heart turns to them, to their families, friends … and the sadness that comes up for me. Although I didn’t know them personally, they were a part of my community and therefore, I am affected. They were two men. The sadness I feel today can be multiplied by so many other hearts grieving for loved ones in peril or who have died in Japan, New Zealand, Libya and so many other places on our planet where there is tragedy and suffering…

The very fact that we ARE so affected shows us that we have a universal yearning to love and honour our fellow brothers and sisters worldwide. I hold my hands together and say Namaste to you for your compassion.

And now also, I urge you to remember to love and feel compassion for yourself; to do whatever it takes to recharge your spiritual batteries so that the sadness and fear does not become overwhelming. We cannot give from a cup that is empty, thus must take this opportunity to infuse ourselves with memories of joy, beauty, love, Christ consciousness …. whatever it is that feeds your soul.  For some it may be sharing laughter with friends; it may be walking in the woods and thanking Mother Earth for her many gifts; it may be meditations in which we hold the world in a bubble of loving Godlight … whatever.

I simply encourage you to give yourself an emotional/spiritual hug – for your sake, and the sake of us all. I feel gratitude to each of you, for being people to whom I can say these things, and know that in connecting my heart to yours for a brief moment in this communication, I am also receiving your heartfelt compassion.

Thank you for the contributions you have made in my life in the past, and will continue to do so. I am including a link to Peggy Black’s Morning Messages. She channels a group of beings who are always so loving and encouraging. This particular message came in just 2 days ago, and it seems so appropriate right now. No coincidences, right?

Thank you for being who you are.

Susan

I wrote this short story a few years ago and it was originally published in the “Aurora Storyalis II”, an anthology by the Aurora Writers’ Group.  I would probably rewrite some of it now with a new perspective but have decided to leave it largely as is.  At the time, I was struggling with our mortality and how to ‘die well’.  I believe that this is one of the greatest gifts you can leave behind and that it takes an enormous amount of courage and selflessness.  I don’t know if I have reached a stage in my life where I could do this yet but I consider this one of my life goals…  so that when it is my time to go, I don’t leave my children with a fear of death but an acceptance and curiousity about what might come next.  I suppose anyone purusing a spiritual or religious life is searching for this peace.

The End

By Eden Remme Watt

Perhaps if Jake Winters had paid attention to signs – like his sister’s cryptic message or the ominous drizzle against his window – or even his own intuition, he might have feared that day.  Instead of bounding out of bed that rainy morning in April, perhaps he would have pulled the covers over his head, ignoring the call of the alarm.

As he showered then dressed, he mentally reviewed his schedule – client appointments all morning, a lunch meeting, legal briefs to prepare, tennis at the club followed by a date that evening.

He made his bed and tidied up, closed the door on his son’s empty room, and shoved laundry into the closet – just in case his date went well.  A final check in the mirror confirmed that his professional image was flawless.  Turning sideways, he admired his new $3000 designer suit.  Perfect.

The morning hours sped by.  Just before lunch, the door to the conference room burst open.  His young assistant stood in the entrance.  “Sorry to interrupt but there’s an urgent call for you.” 

“Who is it?” Jake barked.

“Uh, it’s your mother, sir.  She insisted that she speak with you right away.” 

He left to take the call.  “Hi Mom.  What’s up?” 

“Jake, honey, I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting but I need to see you … today.”  Her voice was strangely tentative.  A widow for over twenty years, people had always taken notice of Abigail Winters, possibly because she was a tall woman with bright red hair, but more likely because of her forceful personality. Jake knew she’d passed that granite will down to her kids – a hereditary unwillingness to compromise had been the source of numerous battles between Jake and his two older sisters.  A weaker woman might have struggled to control such a threesome but Jake’s mother had maintained control.    So, if Jake had been paying closer attention, he’d have realized that his mother’s request, while direct, was not delivered with her usual vigor.

“Uh, today will be tough, Mom.  My schedule is jam-packed.  How about Saturday?”  Jake’s mind was racing.  Why does she have to see me today?  

“No, Jake.  I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.  He’s going to give me some news and, well, it’s pretty serious.”  She paused for a heartbeat.  “I want you with me.”  When he still remained silent, mentally battling his schedule, she spoke again.  “Please cancel your appointments, Jake.  Can you come and pick me up at 2:30?”  Her voice was firm, back in control.

She wasn’t leaving him any choice. 

“Okay, I’ll figure it out.”  Jake agreed.  It finally registered with him that she’d said both ‘serious’ and ‘doctor’.  “Mom, are you okay?  Is something wrong?”

“Thanks, Jake.  I knew I could count on you.  I’ll explain everything this afternoon.”

He wondered what was up, remembering vaguely that his sister had mentioned some tests a few weeks back.  He’d assumed they were routine.  At the time, he’d been away on business.  He hadn’t checked in, hadn’t even returned her last call.  Jake shook his head in confusion as he worked on rescheduling his day.

At the doctor’s office, Jake discovered how serious it was.   When he realized that she was dying, his previous self-absorption hit him like a sack of hammers. 

Numbness crawled through his limbs as the doctor explained that treatment offered little hope.  She’d barely ever had the flu and now she wouldn’t live to see sixty-five.  The doctor’s routine, matter-of-fact explanation made it all the more shocking. Jake sat completely still, shocked, frozen, heartbroken.  The room, its occupants and this insane news seemed surreal.  He waited for the tears to flow from her, thinking he would need to comfort her somehow, but her face remained dry.

Softly, succinctly, she asked questions. How long?  What will she be like in the end? Her expression was solemn but there was no trace of the fear or hysteria that he expected.  Watching her, the ice melted and his body began to shake.  When sobs of misery escaped into the room, they were his and his alone.  Abigail Winters reached over and wiped the wetness from her son’s face, rubbing his back while she murmured soothing words.  It was how she’d comforted him when he’d had childhood upsets in the playground. 

Hours later, his date cancelled, they reminisced over take-out Thai food in her small kitchen.   For the moment, his mourning was at rest, her calm acceptance contagious.

“Jake, what do you remember about your father?”  She asked.

The house was silent as he polled his memory but the usual vague images and random pictures were all he could find.  “I remember Dad bringing home a new tricycle for me.  I remember him spanking Sarah, on a warm summer day, after she pushed me down.”  Sarah was his eldest sister by four years and still bossy.  “I remember being at the grave when they lowered the coffin. Grandma screamed and you were crying.  Later, there were so many people at our house.”  He glanced about, momentarily glimpsing how the house full of mourners had looked in the eyes of a little boy who had just lost his father.  “I remember stories and snippets but they’re mostly from everyone else talking about him and showing me pictures.  Everyone says I look like him.  I guess I can see it from the old photos but I don’t remember much myself.”  He shrugged, shaking off a familiar ache – an ache carrying a wisp of regret that had always been there, as long as he could remember.

They cleaned up the kitchen and then retired to her living room in the house where he’d grown up.  Jake sank deep into the over-stuffed chesterfield.  It had been reupholstered – the plain brown magically transformed into an aquamarine print – but it still felt the same.  She’d done some redecorating too, brightened up the place with paint and trim and modern prints, patched up the dents in the walls from the reckless years of raising children, but it was still unmistakably the old house that contained his earliest memories.  If nothing else, the hall of Winters’ family fame that adorned the main artery was a reminder.  The house Jake purchased when he started his career at the law firm, where his son now lived without him and he’d once imagined a peaceful, domestic future, was now “Jeannie’s house”.  It was the scene of his one great failure in life.  So, this modest abode, built in the west end in the early 50’s and refurbished over the years, still felt like home.  His expensive condo downtown just didn’t feel the same.

They sat together and talked, as they’d never talked before.   She had just been given a death sentence, but she was serene, her occasional tears seemingly more for her son and his devastation, for he was the one that cried yet again, that could not bear to face a world without the woman who had raised him.

“Everyone has a beginning and an end – their birth and their death.  No one remembers their birth and most people fear death but regardless of your beliefs, the end will come.”  Her words sounded foreign to him.  They’d rarely discussed mortality or spirituality.  They used to be close, Jake and his mother, back when he was chasing his mother’s dreams.  Abigail’s ambitions had been a motivating force.  He could remember her glistening eyes as she’d watched him attain diplomas and awards, first at high school, then university.  She’d been there when he graduated from law school, when he’d been married, and at the birth of his son. 

Then the years of disappointment had commenced.  His separation triggered her disillusionment.  Fighting with her had been almost as painful as the divorce itself.  Her reproachful eyes still haunted him.   Avoidance of confrontation had become the new pillar of their relationship. Oblivious to his thoughts, she continued.  “A belief in God, in some kind of after life, is very comforting when you’re facing the end.”

Her words catapulted him back to the present.  “Mom,” he licked his lips, uncertain how to continue.  “Do you, I mean, have you been going to church?”

“Not exactly.” She laughed.  Her mirth flowed around the room, caressing his frayed nerve endings.  “Hasn’t anyone told you about my Quest group?”

“Your what?”

“It’s a group I’ve joined.  We study together, exchange ideas, discuss ideas in philosophy, literature, scriptures, even psychology.  We visit churches and temples sometimes.  We meditate.”  At his raised eyebrow, she grinned.  “Jake, it’s hard to articulate what this has done for me.  For centuries, people seeking the meaning of life and death, of creation and god, have searched and shared their insights.  Some of these works form entire religions.  We don’t follow any particular religious doctrines but we believe there is wisdom in all of it.  It’s the continuous searching, the quest, that is vital.”

“Wow, that’s, uh, great Mom.”  He really didn’t understand.  The emotional upheaval had dulled his brain.  “I guess we’ve been a bit out of touch, haven’t we?”  At her gentle nod, he stood up, suddenly struggling to keep his eyes open.  “We’ll have to work on that but now, I’ve got to go.”

“Yes, we’ll work on it.”  She agreed.  She held his arm as they walked into the hallway together.  “Can you and my grandson come this weekend?  I’ll invite your sisters and their families too.”

“Sure, Mom.  Uh, should I get in touch with Sarah and Janet? Do you want me to tell them what’s going on?”

Softly, she responded.  “Your sisters already know.”

“What?”  Resentment wrapped around him like an old cloak, replacing the peaceful mood they’d shared with a more familiar one.  “What the hell? Why didn’t anyone tell me what was going on?”  He exploded, demanding answers. “What was the meaning of the scene at the doctor’s office, anyway?”

She sighed, letting his indignant words float around the old house, waiting for them to dissipate before she answered.  “Your anger is justified as always Jake, but it serves no purpose except to harm you.” She paused meaningfully.  “This is how I chose to share my situation with you.  It was my prerogative.  Don’t turn this into some kind of conspiracy.  It’s because you and your future are so vital, so fundamental to me, that I wanted to be ready when you found out.”  Her gaze was steady, her words calming, cathartic.  The fuel of his anger was seeping away.

A deep breath, a shrug, and finally, he just smiled – her tranquility must have had an affect.  He had a reputation in the family for his temper.  He’d never backed down so easily.   She was right, though.  It was her prerogative, and this was no time to form new rifts.  He kissed her goodnight, fresh tears blocking his vision.

She gripped his arm. “Honey, let’s not make this a tragedy.  We’re all mortals, we all die.”  She didn’t try to hold back her tears but her voice was strong.   “The difference is that I have an idea of when.  I need to work through some things with you in these final months.  Too much time has been spent coaching you, pushing you on material accomplishments.  I’ve neglected so much, Jake…”

That day marked the beginning – the beginning of a new outlook for Jake, and the beginning of the end for his mother.

Jake saw his mother every week, even attending some of her Quest meetings with her.  Their conversations covered so many topics – sometimes esoteric and spiritual, but at other times firmly grounded in reality – their lives, their dreams, and their disappointments.

It was a hot day in June when she broached the subject of his father again.  Her confidence seemed to falter, her voice stammering.   “Jake, you’re so like your father.  I’m proud of you, son, honestly…”  She lowered her eyes.  “But, I have to confess some things to you.  Perhaps it’s partially because you are so similar that I hid my inner torment, for so long.  I know that it drove me in many ways, and that I pushed you hard, maybe too hard at times.”   Her face was gaunt, her disease becoming evident.   “Jake, when your marriage broke up, I said some things to you…well, things that a mother should never say to a son.  You were suffering but I couldn’t be there for you.”

He rose from the lawn chair on her back deck and leaned against the railing.  “Mom, I admit that it hurt when you lashed out at me during my divorce but don’t worry about it.  Let’s just put it behind us.”

“No, I have to tell you the truth about your father and me.”  She cleared her throat.  “Our happy marriage was really just a fairy tale, fabricated for all of you and maybe for me to save face.  But, the truth is that perpetuating that story over the years was like rubbing acid on an open wound.” She gazed into his wide-open eyes.  “Jake, when I saw you following the same path as he did, well, I’m afraid I just reacted.  In fact, trying to gain perspective on my estrangement from you was ultimately a catalyst for me, and an impetus for my own quest.  So, although I’m sorry, that struggle was ultimately healing for me and I hope, for us now, in the end.  Sometimes, Jake, you have to reach those dark recesses and confront them, before your inner light can shine through.  Never be afraid to face your demons.”

She admitted his father had been unfaithful.  They’d been arguing bitterly.  Had he lived, she believes they would have divorced.  Her guilt when he died in the accident had left her conflicted.   Although he’d once loved the stories of his father, the hero – perfect husband and father – the truth was liberating for Jake, opening up new possibilities.  He finally faced his own guilt and forgave himself.

On a rainy October afternoon, Abigail Winters’ children gathered by her side to say good-bye.  Her commitment to her family and their experience of death was so deep that even in her weakened state, she showed no fear.

Although Jake’s heart was heavy with mourning, it was also full with love and gratitude – for the last gifts of a great mother.  

Her final words, “keep searching”, resonated deep inside and he knew that he would.

The conflict between Science and Religion, raging for centuries, has taken a surprising turn over the past few decades.  In this new age of spiritually and in the labs of enlightened scientists, the spark of attraction between the two, the esoteric and the practical, is stimulating exciting new ideas.  In some circles, they’re practically dating.

So in taking a glimpse into some of these scientific theories, let’s define “THE Mystery” as not being just any old mystery but rather THE Mystery of the universe, of life and death and afterlife, of the nature of our consciousness, of creation, and the existence of some greater life force.  Some might call this universal life force God, others might say it is an interconnected field of energy to which we are all part of the greater sum.  Regardless, I think we can all agree that this is the mother of all mysteries.

It’s also noteworthy that the title says the science ‘behind’ The Mystery, not that science has “solved” it.  In fact, it might be more relevant to this discussion to say that science today is “enhancing” or “expanding” The Mystery, giving it more colour and depth than ever.

It wasn’t very long ago that many thought they knew the answers.  The laws of Classical, or Newtonian, Physics explained how our physical world worked in deterministic, predictable ways.  Our religious institutions turned a blind eye to science as they already had the meaning of life, death, and creation explained.  Darwin’s theories exploded onto this scene to mess with their creation stories but from a scientific perspective, the evolution of species did appear to connect the dots.

But in the dawn of the twentieth century, brilliant scientists revealed new depths to our understanding of science.  They discovered Quantum Physics, which explained how the very smallest bits of matter behaved (of which everything, even our bodies, are comprised) and then General Relativity which explained how very large objects and spacetime behaved.  And yet, neither of these new areas of science jived with the laws of Classical Physics, nor with one another.

So now the brilliant scientists are searching for a unified theory which will explain how these branches of physics inter-relate. 

And meanwhile, the subatomic world of quantum mechanics has demonstrated some astounding properties.  One established behaviour (Heisenberg uncertainty principle) identified that particles are constantly in motion, in a state of superposition (many places at once) which is seemingly affected by observation.  If one attempts to measure the position of a particle, then it collapses down into one place but it becomes impossible to measure its speed, and vice versa.  

As Dr. Stephen Hawking stated in his book “A Brief History of Time”, “The uncertainty principle had profound implications for the way in which we view the world.” … and it is “not fully appreciated by philosophers and still the subject of much controversy.”

Even more bizarre are the properties of entanglement and nonlocality which state two particles can have interconnected states even if spatially separated by extreme distances.  Once in contact, they remain in contact throughout spacetime.

The implications of this are summarized In “The Field” by Lynn McTaggart: “Nonlocality shattered the very foundations of physics.  Matter could no longer be considered separate.  Actions did not have to have an observable cause over an observable space.  Einstein’s most fundamental axiom wasn’t correct: at a certain level of matter, things could travel faster than the speed of light.  Subatomic particles had no meaning in isolation but could only be understood in their relationships….” 

In the search for the “theory of everything”, quantum field theory is a framework which relates laws of relativity and quantum mechanics.  The zero point field, postulated as a future unlimited source of energy in science fiction and now by real scientists, is a field of energy that underlies and interconnects everything in the universe.  When you try to wrap your brain around this, that our brains, our bodies, our thoughts, the room we’re in, the trees, our planet, the sun and everything in the universe are all part of a quantum web of interconnected energy, you must be struck by the enormity of the possibilities.

In the words of Dr. Hal Puthoff ,  this means that “so called empty space is not really empty at all, it’s actually full of energy.”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pbn5vPhLjk0 .  What we do know is that this sea of energy is electromagnetic in nature and vast beyond our imagination.  If we could find a way to tap into this source, our energy troubles might be over.

While some ‘nay-sayer’ scientists or strict religious leaders, committed to their dogma, may scoff at how far imagination and speculation might be going with quantum theories of consciousness, these possibilities take concepts of human spirituality and our place in the universe to a new level. 

An interesting anecodote to end with is Arthur C Clarke’s Law of Revolutionary Ideas: “Every revolutionary idea — in science, politics, art, or whatever — seems to evoke three stages of reaction. They may be summed up by the phrases:

(1) “It’s completely impossible — don’t waste my time”;
(2) “It’s possible, but it’s not worth doing”;
(3) “I said it was a good idea all along.”

Excerpt from “The Joinings“:

As we were born into new bodies and new capabilities, we walked upright and surveyed our world.  Our instincts and intellect drove us forward.  We built tools and fire.  We mastered the planet and its creatures.  We became self-aware and questioning.  We formed tribes and worked together to build homes and families.  We hunted together, collectively sensing the mystical forces at play in the universe.  Our early cultures honoured our elders, worshipped the beasts that we killed, developed cunning and resourcefulness, as well as a spiritual sense to help us not only survive but thrive in an untamed world.

But as our populations grew and agriculture led us to create permanent homes and settlements, our aggressive tendencies turned us away from our instinctive, spiritual natures and instead forged warriors and conquerors.  We built empires and dominated those that were weaker physically.  Groups that remained in the more primitive, mystical world of the past became easy targets for slavery and slaughter, oppression and cruelty.  Individual power became an ambition of man, overcoming the clan lifestyle.  The value of human life was low if it stood in the way of progress and domination.  Instead of honouring the natural world and the creatures that sustained us, we created new gods, powerful ones that would lead us forward in our quest for domination.

Ultimately, we awoke to a more sophisticated age and began to move away from the barbarianism of the past.  We formed governments and religion.  We created classes and rulers.  Laws governed our behaviour in society; religious leaders dictated morality.  The human consciousness imagined exultant possibilities and followed the new orders without question.

But our curious minds would always lead us to new territory. While authority and discipline, piety and unquestioning belief in a higher power may have been necessary at a particular stage to drive us forward, eventually, it became oppressive.  Despite the answers to life and creation offered by religion, we dug deeper.  Science and astronomy, philosophy and art triggered a renaissance of new ideas and new abilities.  We discovered ways to manipulate our planet’s resources, asked new questions about our existence, and uncovered previously unimagined answers.  Humanity’s progress could not be stopped.  Prosperity and technological advances transformed our way of life at an increasingly rapid pace.  Empire-building again became a focus but we discovered that war was not the only way to dominate other cultures.

At each stage in the development of our culture and our consciousness, the life conditions of previous stages influenced our direction, in some cases as a negative force.  We reacted to that which seemed wrong instead of out of pure creation and conscious choice.  Not all areas of the world progressed at the same pace and within regions one might find evidence of past and present cultures.  Yet, overall, our progress was steady.

A natural next stage was a revolutionary worldview, an understanding that many of our advances were endangering our planet.  For peoples who had been born and bred in a prosperous environment free of war and struggles, many grew more sensitive to less fortunate citizens of the world.  They understood the effect that man’s rapid progress was having on our natural resources.  They fought to bring harmony and spirituality, a return to more primitive principles when the earth was worshipped for sustaining us – not destroyed and used without concern.  This led to a philosophical merging of all great wisdoms, religion, and spirituality and a natural disdain for past structures that still sought to dominate the planet.

But a power struggle remained and for those cultures left out of the prosperity and advancement curve, still rooted in past cultural stages, resentment and violence brewed – particularly towards those who dominated the world stage. 

And it came to pass that with so many disparate cultures and worldviews, with violence and unhappiness rampant in some areas of the world, that a relatively small percentage of the human population were able to instigate unprecedented death and destruction upon the entire planet.

Copyright © Eden Remme Watt 2010

This Eulogy for Grandma Jean was written by her youngest daughter Susan and delivered at her memorial event in April.  Susan shares some of Jean’s final reflections and insights on death and the afterlife…

Thank you all for being here today, to help celebrate Mom’s life.  Mom was a great one to collect and quote poetry.   Recently I was going through her wallet and came across this very dog-eared newspaper clipping – had likely been in her wallet for years.  It’s entitled “Nobody is Perfect”, and I’ll read you what it says: 

“Each one of us is a mixture of good qualities and some perhaps not so good qualities.  In considering our fellow man we should remember his good qualities and realize that his faults only prove that he is, after all, a human being.  We should refrain from making harsh judgment of a person just because he happens to be a dirty, rotten, no good son of a bitch!”

It’s so like Mom to have saved this quote – shows her impish sense of humour.  I don’t know if anyone has ever done a formal study, but I believe that all Newfoundlanders are born with a humour gene – Mom certainly loved to see the funny side of things, loved to laugh. 

...with her four daughters and first husband, Wib

In the last couple of years Mom’s memory was beginning to fail.  She would get frustrated by this at times, and ask me why it was she couldn’t remember anything – I’d explain that she was having little strokes and that they affected her short term memory.   One day she said to me, “You know it isn’t all bad, not being able to remember – I’ve even forgotten who I didn’t used to like!”   I would tell her that from time to time, as she had forgotten she said it, and she got a kick out of it every time.

I spent a good deal of time with Mom in these last 3 months, and it was such a gift.  Not always easy, but as time went on, very rewarding.  Mom died the way she lived her life – curious about what was happening, but asking for nothing; being as independent as she could be; and appreciating whatever it was that people gave her.   She lived, and died with dignity and strength. 

Mom believed very much in not looking back – only forward.  Yet, over these last few years whenever I tried to engage her in discussions about what might be next for her, she did not want to go there either.  She would just say, “Oh well dear, everybody’s got to kick the bucket some day.” – and I knew that was the end of that topic. 

The highlight of Mom’s life in these last few years was her monthly trips to the casino with Aub.  Although she did ‘donate’ far more money than not, she also won from time to time.  The last time she won a pot we decided not to put the money in the bank – that way every time she looked into her wallet (which she did quite often) and saw all that money, she was delighted anew!   So in December, when Aub asked her if she wanted to go gambling, and she declined, we knew she really wasn’t feeling well.   She was admitted to hospital a few weeks later.

Most of you have your own memories of Mom, involving perhaps her grit, her sense of humour, her independence,

...with her first two grandchildren

generosity, love of family … today I’d like to share with you some highlights of conversations I had with Mom in these last few months, which demonstrate the grace and dignity Mom displayed making the transition from believing she would recover and go home, to accepting her death. 

Mom was raised in the Anglican Church in her youth, but had not been a church goer for most of her adult life.  In the past few years she had begun to seriously question religion, and even the presence of God.  We have had many conversations in which she asked “It says in the Bible that Jesus is the son of God; but it never says where God came from.  Now answer me that.”  So I’d tell her my theories about a Higher Power, discuss infinity, offer thoughts from theologians far more intelligent than me … but she always seemed unconvinced.   After she was admitted to hospital in January, she brought up this issue again, and for a change I said the first thing that came into my head – that I didn’t think we could understand God with our heads, only with our hearts.  I said, it’s like love Mom – you can’t see love, you can’t touch it or paint it – but you know it’s real – you can feel what a powerful force love is.  She seemed astonished at this thought and said, “Oh, I see now.  So God is Love.  Yes, I see that now.”   Mom’s memory was such that she would not have consciously remembered that conversation 5 minutes after it was over; but it is interesting that she never asked me that question again.  

For about the first month and a half that she was in hospital every day I went in she would ask me why she was there, and when she would be going home.  I would tell her that she had almost died at admission, and then once again and she would be astonished, then say – “Well, everybody’s got to kick the bucket some day.”

In early February she began quoting a poem I’d never heard before – it’s a hymn and it’s written on the back of your program.  It’s called “The Lost Chord”.  Mom remembered the lines:

Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease.

My fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys.

I knew not what I was playing, or what I was thinking then,

But my fingers struck one chord; it was the sound of the Great Amen.

She said to me that what the people were talking about in that poem was death.  But she made it very clear that SHE wasn’t dying – it’s just what that poem was about.  I said that I understood.   Over the next weeks, after Patti had found the hymn on the internet and I printed it out, I would read it to her in its entirety, which she seemed to enjoy.  

One day in early March she asked me, “When I’m finished here, where will I go?”  I said, “You mean here, like on earth?”  And she said yes.  I said, “You’ll go to heaven Mom.”  She said, “Heaven, like up in the sky?  Do you really think so?  Do you believe there’s a heaven?”  I said that I certainly did think so, but then her face darkened and she said, “What about Hell? – maybe that’s where I’ll go.”  And I said, “Oh no Mom, Hell is here on earth.”  Despite her frailty her eyes widened, she drew herself up and with pointed finger she said, “You are absolutely right about that!”  So we talked about heaven, and who all would be there waiting to see her.  Finally she said, “Hmm, I guess nobody really knows.  I mean, you have to die to find out.”  I confirmed that that was true, and then with a twinkle in her eye she asked me – “If I get there, do you want me to send you a sign?”  I said I definitely did.  I’m still waiting.

Jean at 92

A few days later she asked me what will happen when there is only one person left on earth.  I explained to her that it was very unlikely due to our population growth.  She wanted to know what would happen when we ran out of room here on earth, and I said “Well they’re doing space exploration all the time – I suppose when Earth gets full, lots of people will go to other planets to live.  She seemed fascinated by this and said she was really glad she’d asked me this.   But she continued to ask that question over and over, finally asking this – “But if there WERE only one person left on earth, it’s unlikely that it would be somebody in my age bracket, isn’t it?”   I said, that simply wouldn’t happen, that someone as old as she was would not be left as the last person on Earth.  She never asked me that question again. 

She had stopped by this point asking why she was in hospital, or when she would be going home.  She seemed very content, and enjoyed visiting with whoever came to see her.  One day when my sons went in to visit her she immediately called for a nurse.  When the nurse came in she said, “There you are.  Two young bachelors – take your pick.”  

The day before she died I spent quite a bit of time with her, reading to her, listening to music, talking of this and that.  She was drifting in and out of sleep but awoke once and said, “I heard it Susan – The Great Amen” – I asked her what it sounded like and she said it was absolutely beautiful.  I said that the next time she heard it she’d be in Heaven, and she said, “I’m ready to go – how do I get there?”  I said she just needed to let go.  Just let go.  Then she asked if I was coming too.  I said, “Uh, I don’t think so … not for a few decades.”  She just said, “Oh, okay.” 

The next morning when I went in she was weaker yet, but still talkative.  I fed her lunch and she drifted off to sleep, then woke suddenly and said, “They were wrong.  It isn’t the end.  It’s a beginning.”  With tears in my eyes I asked her if she meant Heaven, and she said, “Yes, I think so.”  We talked again about who all would be waiting to see her and she said that would be lovely, just lovely.  Then she sent me off home for lunch, saying she was going to rest.  I kissed her forehead and told her that all her daughters loved her.   I got the call about 40 minutes later that Mom had died peacefully in her sleep.

I’m going to close by reading you a note I got from one of the nurses who cared for Mom on 1^st floor.  Llori used to work in the community with the VON Friendly Visiting program, and now works in hospital.   She wrote:

“I just wanted to send you a little note to say how much I really enjoyed all of my interactions with your mom Jean.  Everything from her being filmed for TV with those in-home exercises, to all of the fun she was in her hospital bed.  She was such a pleasure to care for – so bright, lively, funny and very witty.  She was one in a million and my life is richer for having had those experiences with her.  I miss her.  The hospital hasn’t been the same without her but she’s in a better place and I smile when I think of her.”  

I’m honoured that Lori took the time to write this note, and filled with admiration for my mom, who even in her dying days made such an impression on the people caring for her. 

After Grandma died, when my aunt was sorting through her belongings, she found a well-worn paperback novel on the bed stand.  Inside the jacket cover, in Grandma’s distinctive handwriting, was inscribed: “My favourite book of all times”, signed: “Jean Thompson”.

For a family of curious women, this old book with Grandma’s declaration has intrigued us.  I don’t remember Grandma mentioning this book yet it obviously had great meaning for her.  Since discovering it a couple of months ago, we’ve passed this old book around the family, each of us wanting to read the actual copy that Grandma had obviously paged through many times herself. 

The book is called “A Woman of Independent Means” by American novelist and playwright Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey.  Released in 1978 and her first novel, it was an unexpected bestseller and later became a play and TV miniseries.  The story is told exclusively via letters written by the main character Bess Steed Garner throughout her lifetime – primarily in the first half of the 20^th century at a time when the art of letter-writing was a regular and meaningful conduit between people. 

Bess is a memorable character – strong, sometimes overly domineering and opinionated but always loving and optimistic even after facing great tragedies.   One actually has the sense of having walked in her shoes by the end.  A prominent woman who loves travel and adores family, her need to control extends well into her twilight years demonstrated when she buys crypts for the entire family and writes her own obituary for the Dallas Morning News years before her death.  Outliving two husbands and one son, she revels in the new life of her family as she bonds with her grandchildren and marvels at the arrival of great-grandchildren, commenting: “It is such a miracle to see another generation coming to consciousness.” (p.273) 

Having read this book now myself, I concur that it is a great novel and well worth picking up if you haven’t read it.  However, a woman of 92 who had read countless books in her lifetime has credited this as her “favourite book of all times”.  This is a large statement and I wonder what it was that spoke so deeply to my grandmother.

The era of the story, the fascinating female character, and the lens to her experiences through a lifetime of personal letters must have all appealed to Grandma.  The main character, Bess, was born almost 30 years before Grandma so I also wonder if she was intrigued not only by commonalities with her own life experiences but also by a view into the life of a previous generation of women, possibly connecting her with her own mother or grandmother. 

Grandma actually underlined in dark blue ink, three completely different and unrelated passages within the book which provide some more clues:

p.84: “But do not count on others to convince you your life matters.  All of us are finally alone with only a single opinion to sustain us – our own.”

- Like Bess Steed Garner, my grandmother Jean Earle Perry Thompson was never shy about expressing her opinion and many of her descendants share that trait.  Although, this passage is really more about being self-sufficient ‘emotionally’ and self-confident… advice I will take to heart.

p.170: “It is my opinion that every couple contemplating marriage should be required to sign a contract before being issued a license.”

- Similarly to Bess, Grandma’s second husband was not the father of her children which might give one a different view of a marriage contract, even for this earlier generation…  also, perhaps Grandma related to the idea of a first marriage being for love and a second, more practical in nature..

p.176: “I would like to believe that the soul sets out on a journey of its own long before the body ceases to breathe so that by the time those left behind begin to mourn, our traveler has already embarked in another country.”

- no doubt, Grandma was introspective about death and what would come afterwards although she never shared those thoughts with me.  Whenever I would ask her how she was, her most common response was: “Oh, I’m fine dear, let’s talk about you…”

Another interesting angle to me is that Mrs. Hailey has credited her maternal grandmother as the inspiration for “A Woman of Independent Means”.…and now, here I am inquiring about my maternal grandmother’s passion for this novel…

As a writer myself, I don’t think there could be a greater compliment that anyone could give a writer than the one my grandmother inscribed in her paperback - so I must find a way to deliver this one to Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey.

Grandma’s 93^rd birthday was last week but she is no longer alive on Earth so she missed it. 

Grandma Jean departed in March.    Although resistant for many years, in the end she understood that there was something more waiting. She knew it was her time and so she left us in peace.  It was a final gift from a generous and loving woman to those of us that would mourn her passing.  Instead we are left to wonder and muse upon what she might be doing now, to cherish her life lessons (primarily taught by example) and to always know her pride in us.

Grandma never met Jasper.  At least we don’t think so.  In any case, we didn’t witness their encounter if in fact there was one.  Jasper was born on June 14^th, the first child of my sister, so he is now 18 days old, having breathed his first breath less than three months after Grandma breathed her last.   

As it’s been years since I’ve spent time with a newborn, I’d forgotten how enthralling it is just to stare at the darling little face of burgeoning awareness, his instinctive cries for survival, his utter dependence on his loving caregivers, and, of course, his impact on everyone he touches. How does such a tiny little creature completely transform the nature of life to his new family?  One can only stand by in awe when confronted with the reality of how fast we can fall desperately in love, how immediately our own life can become secondary to another.

2010 is a landmark year for our family to have witnessed the wonder of both life and death in such an intimate manner.  

Both Grandma and Jasper have shown me that everything in the universe we need is available right now.  In this exact moment of time, everything is as it should be.   This is something that I will have to remind myself of every day.

Goodbye Grandma, you were an inspiration. I would love to know what you are up to now but I imagine I will find out soon enough..

And Jasper, welcome to our planet!  What a joy it will be to watch you grow…

Au revoir Grandma

A brand new life