Homage to dying
🕊A tribute to Marije*🕊
Death… can be terrible for those left behind, but a blessing for the deceased. Right? Or is it more nuanced? Last Saturday I visited Marije* in a Dutch hospice. She has a form of cancer and wanted to meet me before she goes. I was in Holland just that week and felt it was important to respond to her request. In her peaceful room, Marije and I talked about death and her dying process. The lovely employees of the hospice let us be. Marije told me that the closer she came to death, the less frightening it became for her. She perceived a bright light and a warmth. But when she got further away from death, she found it scary again.
And that’s it… Fine and scary at the same time. Partly because of the many testimonies of people with a near-death experience (for example from the work of Dr Pim van Lommel), we know that death is a transition to a much finer place than here.
The soul knows this… Not the personality. He’s scared. Afraid of what it might leave behind. Afraid of the pain of relatives. Afraid to let go… It is not for nothing that almost all spiritual currents talk about letting go and detachment. The dying of the personality before physical death is considered a high good in most spiritual teachings.
If you can let go in life, you can let go in death. And death is beautiful… Countless times I was allowed to see her with dying people, or with those who had died. I was allowed to experience her countless times in the many reincarnation sessions that I underwent and conducted with others. Countless times I entered the light during unity experiences. Countless times I’ve spoken with the deceased in healing sessions, or in my children’s bedroom…
There’s nothing scary about death. I know. And yet… when I think of my own death. Then I think especially of letting go of my wife and children. The idea that my boys would have to grow up without a father gets to me. I’m not afraid of death. Not for a long time… But I am afraid to leave my children alone.
And that’s why I feel so much compassion for Marije, who will be doing that in the near future. That is… if no miracle happens.
🕊And of course you can always do that.🕊
We discuss that once she gets over to the other side, she will have tremendous wisdom and insight. That she will then understand her life on a deep level. The point of her dying, and the reason her children should be motherless so young, will unfold before her when she is over…. I explain to her how her ancestors will be waiting for her on the other side. Death is basically the taking off of the physical body, but the rest remains for a while. Over there on the other side.
Finally, the deceased goes to the Light where the information and energy from the emotional body, mental body and personality structure merge into the karmic (causal) memory. This information and energy then goes back to the next life as karma. But you don’t have to go straight to the Light. You may choose to stay a while. To support your loved ones. As so many do…
I told Marije she could stay with her children after she died. To support and protect them. I advised her to get a code with them. That if she blinked a lamp twice, for example, her children would know it was her. The dead are like electric fields. They can affect electricity like in a television or a lamp. And signal with it. They can also communicate directly with the living. Only not everyone can understand them… Marije and I did a healing where we asked the light of the Source to free her from trauma, fear and pain. She softened and relaxed. I shared a 2500 year old Buddhist technique with her: the Metta meditation. That comes down to sending love. Love to her sick organs, love to herself (ouch, tricky), love to her loved ones and love to the world. Sending love is the best she can do right now.
And she does. That sweet, brave Mary.
Reflection… I’m not going to die yet. If it’s your time, it’s your time is my belief. And I intend to make it to 104. (If that doesn’t work out, I’m okay with that too). A luxury position I realize when I look at Marije. Marije doesn’t know how long she has left. An agonizing uncertainty for the personality. A resignation for the soul. A struggle for her between those two opposites. Her children are left in good hands. She wrote cards and letters for them that they get when they reach a certain age. And she’ll be there for them herself. Over there on the other side. She will watch over them and support them when they are struggling.
And if the light flashes twice… They’ll know Mum’s around.
X Robert Bridgeman
*Marije is of course a fictitious name.