Spiritual growth

I'm alive.

It was a rather long time I thought I was not. Floating in a gray matter of apathy, unable of enjoying simple things like breathing fresh air or laughing with loved ones. Was it loneliness or just a nameless suffering, looked like depression- and why am I using the past tense to describe "it"?

"It" is still with me. Just I know now, that everything has not died in me yet. It might be a phase of my spiritual growth to feel depressed without any clear reasons.

Recently, I heard two opposite narrations from two deaths, from two people who went through death and came back again. One described death like a joyful feast and the after-death so beautiful and glorious, the other saw it dark, gloomy and scary, an unbearable regret and disappointment. 

The first narrator was a young lady, an innocent soul, clean and bright. She couldn't do wrong to anyone.

The second one was a lost soul... An alcoholic, confused poor guy.

I'm thinking deep thoughts...
........

This is an inner crisis- has no external trigger factors.

It can express the appropriate feelings for the situation that it is in, but as soon as it leaves the situation, the feelings disappear back into the silence. There seems to be no going back to the old sense of ego.

The big question is, why does this happen? Should we call it plain old-fashioned depression, or could it be connected to some kind of positive transformation of energy taking place in the psyche? Three possibilities suggest themselves: psychological development, enlightenment, and contemplation. Some examples of this loss of the affective ego seem to be connected to prior spiritual practice. It is almost as if the counsels to practice detachment that are found in so many religious traditions are no longer active things that we attempt to do, but we are suffering some kind of process of detachment that has a life of its own.

the loss of the affective ego

Why always wanting something? Achieving? Fulfilling?  As if something is lacking in life

Can't one simply live the moment without labeling it, studying it, overthinking, exhausing oneself over judging whether the moment is what it "supposed" to be??

Why is one to be where pleases others? Can't one simply lie down and do nothing, be nowhere?

Why not.

My angel Dennis

       No Steve, I am not crazy, though I may look so. And when I told you he has become an angel I was wrong, because he has been an angel since old times when he was still alive, maybe since childhood.
Steve is my fb friend (He reads here now). Seems that I have many fb friends, but it's not true. Just people who talk to me every now and then. This afternoon I told Steve about Dennis, and all he did was say"Are you crazy?"

   As Allan, an Australian shaman says "If you feel heaven you are an angel. It is not when you die. It is inside you. pretend you have wings for a while." And none of us is crazy, neither I nor Allan. He's the chairman of the Royal Equine Acupuncture Society of Australia and I am a physician who visits 20 patients a day.

I tried to joke and answered Allan: "Can you write a book under the title "How to become an angel in this life"? But Allan usually has no time to laugh with me. He's an angel shaman or angel man, so he knows everything about the angels and about how people turn into angels, dead or alive. I have known Allan year and a half , though he lives far away in Australia and always meets his angel in bushes. First he came to the chat to tell me "Hello, I dreamt of angels who showed you to me. They wanted me to let you know you have an angel." (I'll write more about him another time.)
Then he taught me how to connect with my angel. That's why I didn't get surprised when my friend told me last week, that she had a LUCID dream of Dennis turning into an angel...


I didn't get surprised, not that much, but still it was so strange: Dennis goes to my friend's dream and not to mine, to tell her to support and protect me. Then he grows wings in front of her astonished eyes and flies away.
I know that I am a fiction writer, but this time I am trying to explain a completely non-fiction story, a true one, and also trying not to sound crazy. Telling the truth is not easy in this situation. Additionally, this is my private life issue. But at the same time it is important to know about life after death and to let others to know, so I continue.

My friend Shirin is an Iranian woman who had lived in Los Angeles since she was 5. She was interested in shamanism, so she tried hard to find a way to a place where the native American shamans lived. After long time of seeking, at last she succeeded finding a tribe near Las Vegas. there were healers and medicine men in the tribe who kept the ancient secrets of shamanism alive. They did so also by training selected persons. Although they were really poor, they received no money for the training. On the contrary, they helped the trainees heal from their physical/mental/emotional disturbances and taught them how to heal others, too.
Shirin was accepted after passing a test. This "test" in fact included observing and measuring the type and amount of her energy. Then she got trained there for a few months. She lived with them, ate and slept in their tents and learned a lot. After the course ended, they told her she can go. She was not to go back to them again.
But she would be in touch with the shamans for ever, to send messages and receive answers. Also she had to practice shamanism all the time and help other people as much as she could. After two years Shirin came to Iran to stay for personal reasons. At the time she "found" me and we made friends, she distinguished that I needed help and told me she would heal me the shamanic way. I was grateful because her energy healing gave me my happy mood again. This happened in the recent two months. Shirin also ordered a piece of gem called amethyst especially for me. Such stones gain healing powers after the native healers work on them energetically. She said one of her friends who was allowed to enter to the shamans' village would bring the gem to Iran. But this didn't go as she thought.

 Last week Shirin came to see me with an excited and surprised smile. She showed me a bluish-withe stone my handful size instead of the promised amethyst, and said: "look here! There is your picture on it!"

To be continued

    

 You'll understand me only if you've lost a loved one. He's everywhere, in every particle of the air. Just about a few days after his departure, I felt he was looking at me from all directions. And when I meditated to talk to him, in the deep alpha waves when I asked him to appear, he answered from inside of me. Since then he's with me and I know that he lives in his family and friends, too. He uses our voices to accomplish his mission in this world.

- My name is Dennis.

When I first knew him I was fighting hard for survival. I don't know how to express my condition then. It was not just the financial crisis in an economically bankrupt country or the sorrows of a newly failed relationship. I was mostly defeated by regret. The thought of spending most of my life in vain tortured me every day. I clearly saw that my abilities were abandoned to droop and this was killing me, especially because at that time- 16 months ago- I was full of doubts and fears and could see only a faint light in the horizon. Then he appeared.
After his death hundreds of his Facebook friends wrote on his wall messages like "thank you Dennis, you changed my life", it was just then that I knew what he did for me was not an exception. He had helped many people around the world to find their way in darkness. Before that time, I had asked many spiritual teachers for help. But Dennis was the first and only person who completely understood my problems and solved them at once- and distantly.

His extraordinary personal attractiveness came from his unbelievable capacity for "being at your side". He listened with his ears, his heart and his shamanic powers patiently, then he "saw" everything. For others, his live presence was healing, too. He also helped them with direct advice. For I had not the privilege, I tried to compensate with all I had. After hearing all my problems he told me "You must drop fear, this is the key. Come to Peru and the Paqos and I will heal you forever."  But as I couldn't go immediately I said, "Can't I heal myself?" He agreed "Why not! Of course, you can." And I could because my soul had touched the rays of his truth and was ready to go back to its origin which was love and light. That was how Dennis became my great inspiration source.


        Also, the story behind his life was extremely interesting to me. It's a unique story that I can describe only repeating the adjective "unique", going back to some 500 years ago to the time of the Spaniards invasion to Peru. The Inca was a peace-loving nation with unique civilization based on peace. they had an advanced organization for irrigation and agriculture and a very deep socialistic system that left no poor or criminal in the society. Their social classes were not in contrast with each other and strange to say that they were great mathematicians though they had no written language.
A unique character of their religion, Andean religion, which is based on loving and protecting Pachamama (our mother earth) is its full tolerance toward all other religions. Even though the Spaniards destroyed their temples and slaughtered most of the Inca, the Inca even today show respect to Christianity and have added prayers to Mary and Jesus to their shamanic ceremonies, because the nature of their religion is to respect all the others and to give love and respect to all the children of mother earth. They believe the feminine power of the earth has produced life, so everyone has to let their feminine part of the soul flourish.
Dennis used to say "I love to share". This is a feminine characteristic which I like most. Sharing, loving, showing our emotions as they are, even our weaknesses... These are only a small part of what I learned from Dennis in a very short period of time.

PS. Today the Inca shamanic way is not counted to be a religion anymore. Instead, the Inca (or Inka) pathway is believed to be a tradition of the ancient spiritual wisdom and healing arts of the Incas. 

My writer soul

         ... I had to try hard to overcome "her" severe resistance to rebirth. She was distressed about writing again and also writing about a man I loved and lost last year. For not writing making excuses is always easy for her, because I'm too busy in my clinic (I am a doctor) so she always can remind me of hundreds of things that must be done there.

 So we fought and she came out of her shell again. But why she doesn't want to choose another subject for her posts? Honestly, I don't know. It's 8:36 am now and I must hurry to work in one hour, so I have no more time to adorn my writing. It would be enough to say he was from the ancient people of Qero, from Peru. By the way, this is not (unfortunately) a love story. That our souls knew each other and called each other's names distantly doesn't change the truth that he died before we get the chance to meet. That's why I can't write anything about love.

Dennis died young. They say the shamans are able to see their death coming. I still wonder how such a mighty shaman could be surprised by the red-winged angel in the middle of the roaring waves of Pacific Ocean. But last night, I was reading a very beautiful paragraph of Dennis's book about "how to feed the stones". Feeding special stones is a ceremony in Inca shamanism and depicts how to nourish our links to mother-Earth by paying attention to the symbols of nature. I closed the book for a moment to answer the "aha!" voice in my heart that said "You fool! Why do you think he's gone to a worse place?! Death was his friend as the stones and the whole existence were!" And I started laughing aloud for a lightning bolt in my mind suddenly showed me the answer why he left, and all the other whys, oh yes: He had done whatever he had to do here.

I feel inevitably attracted to shamanism since I knew him. But who is a shaman?

Shamanic teachings say "Symbols are everywhere, and everything that you experience mirrors a part of you. When you can perceive reality in this way, you understand how you're already dreaming your world." Then his short time appearance and setting in my life must be a reflection of something deeply rooted in me, otherwise it couldn't impress me so much.

I'll continue soon. Promise.

Hello there! It's my new blog after 8 years of just pouring my mind's contents on paper-and then hiding them in places I couldn't remember later. Writing has always been part of my life since a very young age. I had made things that on compassionate grounds could be called short stories, memoir, diary of trips (this one is my favorite) etc, though no one has read them except for the readers of my previous blogs... Oh I loved those blogs that don't exist anymore.

Now I feel that the need for sharing is exploding me from within! Currently I work up to 12 hours a day in the role of a physician- that's just one of my "persona"s. My other roles have been wife/mother/healer/lover and a few more, and they all have been fulfilled more or less but one: the writer. I really don't know how and why the destiny or maybe an inner power of self-destruction has stopped me from choosing writing as the aim of my life, but I see the soul of writer behind my other "masks" that is always waiting to get unveiled some day.

Well, now it's the writer's time! She is so shy (It's natural after a whole life of hiding) that I had to wrestle with her for 8 hours today until at last she accepted to show up, and here she is (oof!) I won't let her go to sleep again at least in this life and if I'm lucky, in all my next lives, too.