On Monday we had a full moon, and the North America had a hurricane. It roared through the Caribbean, across Florida and up the East Coast, where it made landfall, encountered a cold front and kept going.
The death toll, as of today, is 90 in the US and almost as much in the Caribbean. Sixty million people were affected.
We have been going a collective evolution of Consciousness. Everyone is feeling it, in different ways. It's a disintegration of everything we've believed is solid and real. If you identified with your career, you were probably laid off. If you identified with your marriage, you're probably divorcing. If you thought you were your social status, your car, or your house, guess what.
Sixty million people got a big boost in that direction this week. Now what?
When you lose everything, you feel like dying. The pain is unbearable. How do you keep breathing, let alone putting one foot in front of the other? How do you get through this?
It ain't easy.
I looked back to the few significant times when the world I'd built was razed to the ground. How did I survive?
When you've lost everything, what is left behind? Your Essence.
Knowing that didn't make the first few weeks, months or sometimes years, easier. However, gifts showed up to help me through. When I had nothing in front of me, the Universe would sneak something in on the side.
When I lost the home my children were born in, left the marriage after secondary addictions reared their ugly heads, I plunged into poverty. The first year I was on food stamps, but I could not afford toilet paper. That Christmas, I was suicidal. "Titanic" had just come out in the theaters, and jumping off a ferry looked pretty good, except I wouldn't do that to my kids.
I had no money for Christmas presents but the Food Bank had a toy drive. I'd filled out a form with my kids ages. When I went there, I was overwhelmed to see a large garbage sack full of toys. I took it and started to leave. "Wait," they said, "don't you have two kids?" There was a second entire bag for us!
Floating on this miracle, I went to the grocery store to spend my last food bank dollars when a neighbor stopped me in the parking lot. "We had a chimney fire and can't use our fireplace," he said, "please use the firewood behind our house."
Suddenly, I had enough heat for the winter.
Miracles match the level you're on. They become harder to notice & appreciate when you have more, than when you have nothing.
At the same time you are hurting, whether in body, heart or mind, there's an aspect of Yourself that is above and beyond all of it.
When someone I loved died, I did not think I could make it through the agony. This time it almost didn't matter that I had kids. At the same time, however, the greater aspect of me was in communication with the dead loved one. I would have moments of intense Love, what you long to have when you're in relationship but it nearly impossible to have due to personalities and histories.
I couldn't imagine life without my Love, how could I go on for the next several decades?
I got the clear impression that physical life, for Essence, is like jumping into a swimming pool. It's for splashing around and enjoying yourself. Committing suicide would be like getting out of the pool before swim time is over.
It shifted my perspective. Instead of lessons, it's "Open swim" in the pool of life.
How are you bigger than whatever has happened? Your Essence is greater than any disaster. Connect to You as Essence and gain the bigger picture of what is going on.
As Essence, we never lose anyone. They remain connected with us, we can experience that hear and now by simply acknowledging their Presence.
If your Essence is hard to connect with, connect with your Future Self, the part of You that has lived through this and knows how. A conversation (in your head, out loud, or on paper) can yield surprising insights and reassurance.
Essence transcends time and space, so your Future Self, Essence Self and You are all the same.
As Essence, we never lose anything. We *are* All That Is Essential.
My mother is currently showing me what's valuable about being here on the physical plane. She loves sitting outside and breathing fresh air. She's thrilled by the change of seasons, the leaves turning colors. She appreciates music on the radio. Even though she doesn't remember who they are, she enjoys seeing the latest photos on Facebook of the grandchildren and great grandchildren.
All of this is winding down for her as her brain succumbs to Alzheimer's and her body to cancer. It is a slow withdrawal from this world, a prolonged labor to the next.
Doors close to one experience, and opens to something infinitely new. As Essence we're excited by the possibilities, about creating.
What is left, after great loss?