My wife left her body two years ago this month. Four days before her birthday. Nine before our anniversary. Twenty-one after our denial shattered. Cancer.

“For the soul to thrive, sometimes the heart has to be broken.” —Elif Shafak

“The future isn’t what it used to be.” —Arthur C. Clarke

As for my soul, I will not say. Heartbreak? Yes. Clarke’s observation? Yes.

Three others and I watched as the ‘tail of the kite’ left Valerie’s body. The blindingly bright invisible light of a myriad non-human people’s pure compassion received Valerie. Instantly she explosively erupted — expanding into JOY — blurting “I am free!”

Love’s presence. Here now. So full. Yet utterly annihilating for who I believed myself to be.

Then they were off. I followed. Blips on a radar screen. Presenting each hour for 24. Then once each morning — for days. Then but a vapor trail revealing their directional arc.

At three days, Awareness informed me to return. I did.

I use the phrase ‘tail of the kite’ as it describes what I last saw leaving. I had watched more and more of her — non-ordinary ‘invisible’ constituencies of whatever-it-is-she-really-is — aspects organized in and around her physical body — leaving Earth’s realm her final days.

Valerie’s favorite body of work was Andean Mysticism. Through the years she and I learned from and worked with the esteemed Peruvian mestizo Juan Victor Nunez Del Prado, keeper of this ancient spiritual tradition — and his son Ivan — and the Q’ero.

Andean prophecy holds “There will be a time when Condor of the South flies with Eagle of the North.” Condor = heart. Eagle, head. In service — together — to Cosmos, Earth, Nature, Humanity.

Following Valerie’s joyful exuberant burst into freedom, others in the room and I watched — literally saw — Condor and Eagle flying together in tribute to her for furthering the prophesy’s fulfillment.

Once this moment passed, one of the women announced she and the others would give me a few minutes with Val’s body. I needed no time for I saw no trace of her remaining.

To what end I write this?

Death is not what we have been taught. It is something wholly Other.

Body and the nature of our collective human psyche are programmed to fear death. Ego is party to this. Yet, the what-we-are distinct from the human bits — does not fear. I invite you to rouse your curiosity.

I can tell you ’Till death do us part’ — it ain’t so! Ain’t for emphasis! Togetherness beyond ‘death’ does endure.

Until recently I knew little of death’s loss. As a child my favorite person was my grandpa.
He left when I was nine. Has since showed up when needed.

A colleague nipped in a few times.

My dad, twice — letting me know he and I are good. Difficulties dissolved.

My flight instructor, yes!

Valerie and I have not parted. Our relationship changed. She no longer sports a human persona. She and I interact daily. Soon after leaving, she turned up each night. Early early each morning we sat together much as we had done before she took her leave.

Valerie and my non-human people showed me round her precincts. I am heartened for mystical training: Andean, Hellinger — Sente Energetics. I See now.

I invite you to allow curiosity to come to the fore. I invite you to change default setting from fear to genuine Awareness. I grant you permission, entitlement.

“Everything you love is likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.” —Kafka

It has. I now love completely.

COVID and polemical politics bring more and more deaths. Stay close to what-you-are. The one distinct from identities, personas, personality, ego, thoughts.

 

• Sketch of Condor and Eagle by David Zeno Thanes

Stephen Victor photo

Further

All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know. —Ernest Hemingway

There was a time I characterized my life as a ship in transit on which I repeatedly busied myself redesigning and reconstructing its hull — while underway — in heavy, and becalmed seas. I had a knack for creating unnecessary difficulties — while oddly enough, being a decent naval architect and ship fitter. Curious, huh.

Not so much difficulty created these days though — by me, that is.

There is a story, true or not I don’t know. A farmer asked Picasso why he did not paint portraits like everyone else. He replied: You know how any of those I had to paint before I could paint these!?

Often what we once believed to be our ‘truest’ sentences were born out of, and borne on our necessary self deceptions — those simple stations along our way offering solace to our beleaguered selves as we burnished the shine within us — the one we were yet to see.

May the sea and winds render our resolve capable of our truest sentences.

Particularly now – particularly now, may we become equal to circumstance.

Further!
© Stephen Victor 2020

Photo: Stephen Victor – old iPhone

The future is not what it used to be. —Arthur C. Clarke
Lore holds, stories are to personal growth and becoming as facts to science.

• Facts either exist or they do not.
• Some stand the test of time. Some help. Some do not.
• Others nullified. Some helped. Some not.
• Apocryphal stories can be as relevant as factual. Some not.
• Facts are subject to interpretation; interpretation subject to facts.
• Facts and stories are characterizations of our experience of Experience.
• Story is not for presenting explicit meaning.
• Story is not for anyone’s entertainment.
• Story is not to hold your attention.
• Story is to put you back doing your work—inner and outer.

1st fact:
The corona virus known as COVID-19 has made sorties into human territory.

2nd fact:
Some will have a catch-and-release Experience.
For others COVID-19, a means of getting off the planet.

3rd fact:
There has been and will be profound loss, grief, sadness.

1st story:
In coming here, whatever-it-is-we-are beyond body, personality and imagination, aligns with the consciousness of the human body and our particular lineage—replete with their antecedents, friend and foe. It needs to be this way.

Our initial gasping inhalation upon leaving our mother’s body constitutes our soul’s consent to our human bequeathment. Whatever-it-is-we-are begins collaborating—cooperatively or not—with the beleaguered and besieged consciousness of the individual and collective human animal—in which we—for a Moment—have taken up residence.

In this breath, our first concession to profound restriction, we become bound; to moments of ricochetting and—or—flowing in the turbulent nature of Human Life. Life is not intended to be easy. We are here as expressions of Experience: those from precincts within the Mystery.

In an evolutionary context, DNA only changes under pressure. This is a useful analogy for us—in human form. Though, whatever-it-is-we-are does not itself evolve human anatomy, physiology and psyche do. Whatever-it-is-we-are are here to directly experience Experience and then to complete Experience by expressing our actual and genuine response to It. OUR own genuine response. Not that of the animal of our body. Re-read this paragraph please.

In this we are Changed. As such, the Awareness of whatever-it-is-we-are perceives and knows the Mystery’s Wisdom. Its Universal Intelligence. With this Awareness, whatever-it-is-Earth-is, changes: its Nature changes—as so too, the corporeal consciousness of the human animal opens and expands. Moves. All—and each of whom—increase their Luminescence. Their Beauty.

2nd story:
Flatland: A Romance in Many Dimensions by London Reverend Edwin Abbot – 1884

There is a two dimensional world called Flatland. It is a world that has length and width, but no height. Everyone in Flatland moves around as freely as shadows move around the surface of the Earth, totally unaware of height.

“Square”, the protagonist had a dream one night. In the dream he had been transported to Lineland. In Lineland all there was were either points or a series of points arranged in a straight line.

Everyone in Lineland moved freely in this one dimension but had no idea of width or height. While visiting Lineland, Square tried to explain to the inhabitants the missing dimension of width.

Eventually he got frustrated and went to the longest line of Lineland—the King of Lines, the Line of Lines and stated: In my land you would be nothing compared to me and I’m just a Square. In my land I am nothing compared to the nobles in my land.

Eventually all the lines got angry with the Square and began to line up their points ready to attack Square—at which point, he awakened from his dream and felt relieved to realize that he had been dreaming.

Later that day Square was explaining to his grandchild—a hexagon—some notations on geometry. In Flatland, succeeding generations of males had one more side than their fathers until there were so many sides to figure that they were indistinguishable from a circle, the priestly order. Except for triangles—they would always be triangles.

As Square was explaining to his grandson how to figure the number of square inches in a square—this is done by raising the number of inches on one side by the second power—the grandson asked what it would be like in the geometry of something were raised to the third power.

Square explained patiently that there was no such thing as the third power. The grandson persisted until Square got angry and sent the child to bed, telling him that he would do better in geometry if he would talk less non-sense.

Later that evening, Square continued saying to himself “there is no such thing as the third power.” He then heard a voice say “Yes there is!” Square looked around and saw a Sphere in the room with him. The Sphere was a visitor from Spaceland.

The Sphere began explaining the third dimension and it was to no avail as Square was not comprehending. The Sphere then created for the Square a transcendent experience that transported the Square to Spaceland.

Square then yelled “This must be madness or hell!” The Sphere said “It’s neither! It is knowledge. Open your eyes and look around.” The Square go so excited and began talking to the Sphere of the possibility of a forth and fifth dimension. The Sphere said “There is no such thing!” and immediately and angrily threw Square back to Flatland.

Square told people of the other dimensions to no avail.

3rd story:
In times gone by a horse of unknown origins came round to a farm family’s house and barn.
Neighbors came round praising the family’s good fortune.
The farmer responded “Maybe”.
The farmer’s son was thrown from the horse breaking the boy’s leg.
Neighbors came round deploring the bad luck.
The farmer responded “Maybe”.
Army officers came round conscripting adolescent boys and young men.
The son’s broken leg stopped him from being taken.
Neighbors came round praising the good fortune.
The farmer responded “Maybe”.

4th story:
Humanity has experienced extreme exposures to peril myriads of times before. Each one rendering its future altered. And so now too with COVID-19. The intellectually indefensible part of this fourth story is: Each of us are poised to take a fundamental decision. It is based on the choices—many or few—available in the current state of Awareness. This one decision must be taken before taking the many others that too must be taken. It is wise to take this decision consciously. With Awareness.

The fundamental question: Will I let the fear and folly of the provincialism of human conscious take the lead in my Life, or will I, whatever-it-is-I-am, lead my thinking and action?

There are calls to action in the facts and stories of this piece. Take them Awares.

Photo: Stephen Victor

I heard a short story, whether real or apocryphal who knows. It went like this: A woman whose circumstance and those of her community were extraordinarily challenging was asked why are you so happy. Her response was because I cry so much.

This morning I cried and cried—missing my late wife. I looked to identify what prompted the emotion. I checked the calendar. Today would have been her birthday.

Though the majority of us attend little to the unseen media we exist within, I refer to it as energy or energy fields. Affectionately I call it the Mystery. Energy itself is memory. It stores experience. Our own and others’. The greater the emotional intensity of experience, dreaded or desired, the more intense the stored past experiential content: it is present in the energy around us, here and now.

Places and locations and borders of things, and calendar dates, accumulate and store quantities of energy rendering them more easily perceptible. My sense of loss and my associated sadness, though prompted outside my Awareness, are very present this morning. My crying released my response to this date’s content, changed me, changed my energy and body chemistry. I feel greater ease. Lighter. Happier.

Consider the story of the happy woman in light of this story: A person repeatedly asked herself Why am I so unhappy? Why am I so unhappy? An insightful other responded saying it is because all you do is think of yourself and there is no self.

If there are truths, that answer may point to one of them. However, in the here and now in a practical sense, unhappiness may well ensue from content stored in the energy we have become inured to whether carried within ourselves or resident in the places and locations and borders and dates we frequent or inhabit.

Is it time to return to our senses? To inhabit and live in our body again. To know and sense our body’s sensory experience and allow ourselves to directly experience our experience? To give our selves over to Life’s flow? The one our body knows? The experiential flow that will then inform our intellect via the Wisdom of direct experience?

A long time ago I watched my brother instructing his young daughter to stop crying—it’s not to be done… Hmm?