When fighting for someone's life we are like snarling street dogs wrenching at a bone. We go hell for leather. No, quarter given, we send healing, night and day. We push, prod, drive, bully. And along the way, we fall in love with those we stand at death's edge with. And so we get extremely upset if patients even dream of faltering. One such patient a gamine, spirited young thing, lets call her Suhashini was fighting cancer, a virulent and difficult one. She decided to go back home for a month to Tamil Nadu, to be with her daughter. Her husband told her, perhaps kindly that her daughter would be cared for, as after she died he would marry one of her friends and the daughter would be cared for. After that it was downhill, we however refused to allow her to entertain death's welcome. After a few days, she is critical in ICU. Then one night, her sister calls… her sis had called all the relatives to her bed and said goodbye. Suhashini says… “Tarun I can't fight any more…” with a great big lump in my throat, I realise she is asking me permission to die. I say “you've fought hard sweetheart, you've lived, you've loved, its ok, live or die we will be there with you. We will make sure your death passage is smooth.” An hour later she passes away. We spend the night escorting her to the light.
Round 2: Life is down. Not Out.
The other day Buffy curls up next to me, and tells me that, her guides have told her to say: ‘she may not stay so much longer. Very long for her, but for you very small. A few years'. She is worried how her dada will take the news. She looks at me trying to figure. My head's heavy. But my heart's happy.
M's father is diagnosed with cancer in a very difficult area, intensive treatment clears it, the docs are happy, he is about to leave US back to India , when M gets a dark, prophetic dream. In it his father's health deteriorates. And eventually passes away. It may seem that we are confronting defeat. And at a human level it is as bad as it gets. The grave, the pyre has won again. But as we discuss it with M, we point out that while the dream's message was dark, it's meta-message isn't. For it says that we are all connected. That we have access to the place where life is being cooked up.
Ratna, Vikram's mother passed away, a few years ago. When she first came to us she could barely walk, as we got to know her health improved dramatically. Buoyed by her improving health, she decided to go for a minor surgery. Complications ensued and she struggled for 6 months before she passed away. The morning, she passed away Celia hears her voice calling out. 15 minutes later, Vikram calls to let us know Ratna had moved on.
An uncle has lived a good life, full life. When we tell Buffy we are going for a funeral, she's excited, scampers around. Why is she so excited? Celu gets the answer. Buffy says that in her psychic circle, a death is celebrated with a feast. So where's the party?
The cathedral, the funeral is at, is full, the uncle is loved. Above his coffin we see him. Hovering above, dancing above. It's almost as if he is tethered. He has been tied in place. “I was bouncing too much” he says. At the end of the funeral, I am given the privilege by his guides of untying him, he leaves. I watch him go towards, his old home, he stumbles over a tree. Somehow it seems very funny. That physical things still bind us. And then I realise that the physical has a hold on some of us. And frees others.
Round 3: Gifts from Beyond.
Kanak calls up a month ago, his father had passed away… Kanak has questions, instead of answering them, we take him to meet his dad. Climbing the dark tunnels, the lit spaces, escaping death's guards. There we show him his father. A light wrapped in a purple, protective shield. The father speaks one penetrating word. A word that crystallises 7 decades of life wisdom, and death's clarity. It's Kanak's polestar now… as life's confusions unfurl.
Several year's ago, Petra's father had passed away. Then he appeared in her dream. She was terrified that he was angry with her because she had entered into a relationship with someone who already had a partner. Far from it, the luminous figure just held out his hand to her and said "Come follow me."
Many year's ago, Peymaneh's father passed away. On & off, she and her sister's have gone to his grave. Once, the garland of flowers broke instead of falling down they seem to have been flung up at her face. Like a blessing.
Recently Bhupender came to us for a past life session, in it he discovered that he had been a king, tired of life... one day he was drawn into the desert, pulled by a mysterious light. Deeper and deeper he went till he came to an extraordinary sage sitting in the middle of nowhere. 'I have been waiting for you" he said. The King spent a night of vocal silence with the sage. And in the morning the sage was gone. The king returned his face luminous. The memory, lifetimes later, of a greater light now glows within Bhupender, of a king who saw a true king.
Sometimes… as healers Life will win. And sometimes Death will. But is Death a defeat? Not really! For as Devadhara Healers, as Spiritual Seekers we see there is more to us, cloaked in robes of light, free of time and space. And often the spirit proclaims just that. Squeezing past Death's censorship to remind us… that we are lights, immortal lights!