Seeing Grief as a Sacred Space – Part 1

One of my beloved friends is getting ready to leave his body, and transition to The Other Side. It is a sacred time that permeates the rest of ‘daily life ‘, and creates a natural space for reflection and sharing. You see, folks often forget that no psychic or medium is exempt from the challenges of living life. We don’t get a ‘pass’ card when it comes to dealing with the tough stuff. Just like your car mechanic can still have car trouble, your plumber can have bad pipes in their house, or for that matter, your Doctor—who is neither exempt, nor excused, from any of life’s illnesses or dis-eases. Like all of you, that means when someone I love prepares to leave the earth plane, I grieve.

Knowing that life exists after death and being able to communicate with those on The Other Side is a wonderful gift! But in no way does it exempt me from dealing with the natural stages of earthly grief, be it the emotional toll, the physical loss, or just coping with the understanding that it takes time for Life, in It’s Infinite Wisdom, to reorganize the vibrational shift so that the loss of a loved one is not so acutely sharp. It takes time to adjust to the communication shift, and for the physical loss to heal. And even for the ‘enlightened,’ there are ‘growing pains.’

I have found in times like these, where I am fortunate enough to see this as the sacred time it is, that rituals can play a big factor in coping with the upcoming changes life has in store. I clear my schedule of unnecessary stuff. It’s amazing what’s non-essential when you are down to slivers of time with someone you love. I take extra care of myself by staying hydrated, eating healthy, and getting lots of extra rest whenever possible. I make an added effort to be kind, gentle and understanding with myself. I allow extra time for meditation and prayer, so that Grace can come in when I am not looking. I do these things because they are an important part of the process of how I cope and heal in sacred times. So that when I look at my friend, dreaming often of The Other Side, I don’t twist and cajole Life into granting them a physical extension that would only serve me.

Even with the gift of insight, I can’t know the precise number of seconds, minutes or hours my friend and I have left together. And, in truth, I wouldn’t want to. I liken this time to being an experienced cook: I know by the smells in the air, and by looking through the window on the oven door when something appears to be almost done. None of us really controls how fast the yeast rises, or the bread browns. We anticipate, and make ready the kitchen by locating potholders and putting out the cooling rack; tidying up the dishes. Sometimes, things are just done early, and other times, we patiently, knowingly, gratefully, adjust the timer for an additional 15 minutes.

With the extra time, I am planning a celebration ceremony for my friend’s transition. So that we can affirm what a great life he had, and honor our understanding that he has gone on to a wonderful, exquisite place. We will meet again. He is just taking an earlier train, to a place we are all going, that’s all. And when my time comes, he will be standing at the platform to welcome me there.

So that’s my best advice for dealing with a time like this: Focus on staying present, and relishing this sacred space for what it is. Don’t waste the sunny days complaining about the rainy ones. Ultimately, we will all make the same transition. And we will appreciate those around us in that sacred time who are calm, gentle, and understanding of the process of it all. Those who are able to be present, be it physically, emotionally, spiritually, or psychically—despite their fears—can bring comfort. They help to make the natural bodily transition a time of peace and grace.