Been There, Done That

Wednesday,  October 31, 2001


This is Halloween morning, and I wish you only treats. No tricks.

Just heard Johnny Mountain of ABC7 News report that we're having a full moon for Halloween.  The last time this happened was 1955 when we were four; the next time, 2020, when, God Willing, we'll be 70.  Egads.

Last night, as DH and I drove home from work, we admired the silvery moon.  To us, it looked like a full moon. DH said that tonight's moon will be a vivid orange, something about dense atmospheric particles.  We'll look for it, and I hope you will, too.


"Orange Moon" 
~Heidi Priesnitz


Joe Idkons, tall, blonde and impossibly handsome in his pressed and spiffy sheriff's uniform, came by the office yesterday afternoon.  Like all of America, he is in a non-specific heightened state of alert.  Before he left, he gave me such a sincere, warm hug that I became worried for him.  Does he know specifics the rest of us don't?

God,  I ask you to take care of our front-line defenders on the home front like Joe, as well as those in Afghanistan. The battlefield is both here and there.

Ernesto Blanco, Florida inhalation anthrax survivor who fought and beat anthrax with a cocktail of antibiotics and his faith, was interviewed on TV.  He shared his out of body experience with America. 

Losing 16 pounds in 21 days, he was slipping away, and at one point thought he was at death's door. He felt himself physically ascending from, then descending back to his bed.  "God has been good to me, he saved my life."

His mission was incomplete; it was not his time. Perhaps, part of his mission is now to comfort America, by reminding us that life goes beyond the physical plane.  It was time for Kathy Nguyen in New York, the fourth anthrax casualty. Her mission was completed, and she graduated. I celebrate her arrival over There.

I comfort those in fear -- and my physical self -- by openly expressing my thoughts on the matter of death: 


"God is more powerful than any terrorists and has never lead me astray. If it is my time to leave, it's time. If it is time for us to leave together, we've fulfilled our missions on Earth.  Let's get together in Heaven and celebrate, okay!"

Tension breaking, my words seem to dissipate fears, big and little. The moment instantly lightens, eliciting smiles at the prospect, even outright laughs. 

Once in awhile, when sensing deep fear or despair, I am moved to share my own death experience.  I don't refer to it as near death, because for that brief period away, I was pure spirit.  I was not of this world.  My body was dead and I was over There.

I had knocked on Heaven's door and I got a glimpse -- just a fleeting glimpse -- of the other side of the veil.  It was glorious, beyond words.  Since, I know exactly what the elders  meant when they said, "If you knew what awaits you, you'd kill yourself to get there." 

The "message" was: "Mission incomplete. Go back."

I am Heaven's reject.  

The best gift of this rejection is that my spirit knows there is no death, but transitions between energy levels. The body is an envelope for Earthly energy. Discarding it was simple.  Sweet. 

I believe, for the last 25 years, I have been fulfilling that mission, whatever it is. The opportunities that present themselves and the synchronicities -- the `meaningful coincidences' in life that nudge me in certain directions -- indicate that this is so. I think I wasn't told exactly what my mission is.  God knows me well.  If I knew, I'd hurry up and complete it expeditiously.  In my hurry, I'd miss out on the process itself -- the journey.  I'd miss out on the savoring of the gifts of this physical world.

These days, I'm a budding way shower. Just as before, when it is time to go Home, I'll let go, let God. 

Been There, done that.

"Life is a Gift."

Author Unknown

P.S.  Killing yourself is not the optimal exit from this physical plane.  Physical life is a gift to be cherished and lived to its end.  One of the benefits of being older -- 50 -- is that you know that it is not forever, and thus you live it to the fullest.  Including looking for an orange moon tonight.


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This web journal was created on a September Morn, 
September 29, 2001
September Morn 2001