Much has happened of late, causing me to take a deeper look into the spiritual side of grief. I will admit I have been consumed, gravitating toward the sadness of life, the pain and loss, because it is just everywhere. I allow myself to visit the place of darkness, but just a visit. I have learned not to stay too long, or else the darkness will swallow me, and I won't be able to see the light. I learned early on to work through this MY way, and through the many, many modalities, I work to live, I grieve, and I get swallowed up, just like anyone else. I accept the dark times, and through various healing sessions, I empower myself to do what is necessary to survive. I do what is necessary to live, breathe, and exist. Even on the days when I would prefer to stay in pajamas till noon, and those are many lately, I allow the indulgence, but I rise up and gather what is good to take me out of the pain. Or at least I try to...don't always succeed, often succumb to the suction of grief, but while doing so, all the while, looking for that crack of light.

We are all in a losing zone right now. Sometimes I can imagine that no one knows my pain, and I don't know anyone else's. I can get swallowed up in wondering how I am going to keep hearing and accepting the news that each day brings...cancer, death, car accidents, house foreclosure, hunger, growing death by suicide, devastation. I find myself inundated with the tragedies, because now I feel something I may have not felt before, and that is what true grief, right to the core of my being, is like, and I only "wish" it upon no one else. But it comes, and it goes, and we each get a turn.

I have come to realize that all of this is about who we are from a spiritual perspective. It's going to happen. Loss, pain, and all those things that can consume us. We are human beings and we cannot get through life without avoiding it. We are human beings who think about being spiritual, but in reality, we are spiritual beings living in a human world. I know that I have shared a quote of this magnitude in my writing and personal journals, because early on, when I began my quest to live after death, I relied on my own interpretation of it...I believe it was Stephen Covey who said, and I am paraphrasing..."We are not human beings on a spiritual journey, we are spiritual beings on a human journey".

It takes much work and energy healing, thank you dear Helen for being in my life, to understand oneself and where we fit into all this, and how we fulfill our purpose here, that is, while we are here. It takes that deeper understanding that scriptures and affirmations provide, but more importantly, it takes weaving them into my being, not my human BEING, my spiritual BEING. It takes making the choice to still my soul so I can hear, really hear, what God wants from me. Even on my days of angst, crying out, inner turmoil, confusion, fatigue, remembering what I don't want to, and forgetting what I wish I could recall, it is about the spiritual realm, the life that is bigger and better than me.

So much is uncertain, every step. I don't know how to do this. I find myself walking the steps of what Helen helped me term, "countdown energy", those hours, minutes, images, days, season, holiday, memories, that bring me closer and closer to a time that she, Allison, left this earth, left her physical being for her full and beautiful spiritual self, leaving behind a host of loved ones, trying to make sense of what this side of heaven is all about. It takes everything I have in me to move through this time, knowing I am being carried, knowing I am not doing anything special, this is not ME, this is a host of angels, and support from above. It takes every ounce of strength to remove myself from enduring the physical loss, to focus on the bigger and better picture. I am working on it, I am lifting my heart to her, to the light, letting her go, even when I don't want to, letting her go and spread her wings, knowing, she will never be physically mine again, but she will always come back to me, spiritually, fully and lovingly.