LOVE IN THE AIR

Several years ago now—I resisted the gym, which, I must say I thought was strange, but there was such a pull to be outside.  It had been coming—but this particular year—I couldn’t go back to the stuffy atmosphere and stationary workout equipment I knew so well. Something strong was calling me, so I went with it. I called it Gaia. I needed to walk—to feel the fresh air and sit by the beach. To commune with the palm trees and sand, the unique tropical birds and big bright green iguanas who watched me, silently; weird moveable eyelids and their prehistoric nature all became part of my experience.  And then one day it became routine. Every morning for almost two years I walked the neighborhood. In the process—I said hello to new faces and others became familiar on my walk each morning; soon I had old friends that I passed each day waving to and greeting with a smile. I watched the neighborhood change as houses were put up for sale and new families moved in. Other houses were remodeled, and their new beautiful renovations updated the quiet streets. Lawn and maintenance crews were always present somewhere along the way like standard fixtures. So were the police, waitresses—and the businesses of Lauderdale by the Sea and the community in which I lived; it was all mine.

And, then there was Richard. He worked as a maintenance man at one of the big elegant condominiums on the beach. Normally, most mornings when I passed by, he was out in front with a hose—washing the side walk. I said hello—and he smiled—and said hello back. Occasionally, as I got to know him better, we would chat for a few minutes. Never very long—as there were cameras everywhere he would say—and he wasn’t keen for trouble.  So, most mornings—it was a wave and a hello and a smile and a cordial wish for a good day. We all have people in our lives like this—and I enjoyed his smile and energy as much as he enjoyed mine.

And then, like the tide—I was called back to the gym. And, I would now only walk occasionally. Months later—while walking “my route”—Richard was out in front washing the sidewalk like always. I said hello—and he said, “where have you been?”  I told him I had gone back to the gym—he said he had missed me, asking for my number.

To my surprise, he called me. We met at Starbucks a few times to talk. I gave him one of my books. I learned he was a gifted musician and music was his passion. He was divorced. He had two children. He had been born in Jamaica. I shared my story too. But, most of all Richard was just sweet. He had a contagious smile and caring eyes. And, probably one of the nicest people I knew. Our friendship grew—and he would drop over to the house from time to time. He played his CD for me one day—and his voice and talent were amazing. I’d make him coffee if he’d had a long day—and we continued to talk about life; never shallow conversations. Our friendship was real and honest. I guess that’s what made it so special. When I was out of town and hurricane Irma was barreling in our direction—it was Richard who came over and hauled in all my stuff in and prepared my house for the storm. That’s who he was.

On October 29th he texted me at 8:09 am. The text said . . . “Good morning”. “Thinking bout u.” I respond back—“Good morning! How are you doing?” “im good can i stop by”. “What time?” I replied. “Now” he texted back to me. (I was in the middle of breakfast for my LAL students who live in my house—and still hadn’t had my coffee.) I texted him. “Later?”, I asked? “Ok i will try.” But that day went like a flash and we did not meet.

On November 5th my cell phone rang. It was a 305 area code and a number I didn’t recognize but I answered it anyway. “This is Richard’s friend Noel”, the caller began. “Richard died last night.” I paused, “Richard Friesland I asked?” “No Richard Harvey”, the gentleman replied. What? I paused drawing a blank for a nanosecond as my brain searched for meaning. “WHAT?” I said again. “How did this happen? When?” I was shocked—and told Noel—I needed a few minutes to process this untimely news. Richard was 43 and had young children. “How could this be?”, I thought to myself.

I talked to his brother Ian several times—he sounded just like Richard. I attended his funeral two weeks ago.  It was a celebration of his life! But, I miss him today. Without realizing it, he had impacted me in a very subtle and profound way. His brother said he talked about me a lot. I guess I had impacted him too.

As I reflect  on our friendship—I guess you never realize how somebody’s going to impact you—or what meaning they hold in store for you. And, how this “chance encounter” would affect me so deeply today.  I feel him around me. I “hear” his voice and laughter. I wonder if he is one of my guides now? I feel that he is. (My friend Annie confirmed this is in fact so.) And wonder now, if that is why I had such a pull to walk pulling away from the gym? I know there are no coincidences or accidents. I also know that there is no such thing as an inappropriate death.

Before his “graduation from earth school”, his young nephew awoke from a deep slumber—walked into his Mother’s bedroom and said, “Richard can’t stay. He’s got to go.” Two days later Richard was gone from a undiagnosed kidney infection.

I know that there was a love between us that was unexplainable—an undefined intense soul connection—that I for one didn’t understand. Maybe he did?

I think it is important with all the division and fighting, and angst in the world right now—and in the United States in particular, to create a unity with others. At the end of the day—we are all the same—all from the creative source—all with divinity inside. We must throw away the idea of separateness and embrace our Love for one another; one Human Being to another. This much I know is true. I think Richard did too.

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Milestones

img_2845It had already been a few weeks of significant change and major life events for me as a boarded another flight out of Ft. Lauderdale ten days ago. I was headed for Boston’s Logan International; my youngest son David, was getting married to a beautiful young woman named Hannah. They had fallen in love seven years prior while they were both in college.  Now they were marking the beginning of yet another cycle in their relationship; a vow to each other and commitment to their future together.

Weeks before, I had celebrated my Mother’s 85th birthday with my siblings and their families on the cool Pacific Ocean in the picturesque town of Cannon Beach, Oregon.  Thirteen days later my Mother would pass unexpectedly in her sleep; a surprise to all. She, on the soul level, was complete.  The end of another cycle; her transition was proof as shocking and surreal as it seemed to us, upon receiving the heartbreaking phone call.  We were all together again. This time at her memorial service appropriately held in the First Hill neighborhood at the historic Trinity Episcopal Parish in Seattle.  This was a place of memories; she had been married there—so had my brother.  She had held a similar service where we sat upon her own Mother’s passing—my grandmother and my namesake; I remember that, so many years ago.   History on many levels as I learned that her Father had helped to found the still beautiful old English Gothic Revival landmark; milestones. . . .

At my son’s wedding, I would be seeing my ex-husband and his new wife. He was a reminder of another milestone: my painful divorce in 2006. I would be saying hello to my aging ex-mother-in-law, seeing my happy, energetic red-headed two-year old grandson, my oldest son Joshua and his wife Jessica, and meeting Hannah’s parents and sisters for the first time.

I had vowed to myself to show up powerful, balanced, peaceful and loving.  I felt, I had fulfilled that promise—to myself:  for me that was another milestone and cycle that was complete.  I had been working towards that resolution for the last ten years.  It was the mastery inside that I strove for daily, and my compassion and evenness was proof that day.  These events, coming like hard packed snowballs, one after another, certainly acted as good barometers for not only myself—but can be markers, for all of us—on how far we’ve come, or how much work on ourselves we have left to do. No denial or illusion would mask any remaining sorrow, grief, anger or emotional hurt which remained.

Milestones— those major events in our lives are happening all the time to everyone.  They are defined as a “significant event or stage in the life, progress, development, or life of a person, or of a nation.”  We often think of birth, death, divorce, and marriage as the biggest and I believe they serve as our greatest teachers in life.

Each and every one of those events could have been a traumatic emotional sand trap; life’s hazards of sorts; “Watch Out!” However, in the center of any storm, you can stand as the unmoved mover and reside at the place of stillness within.  What comes to mind as I write this blog, is the merry-go-rounds they had in parks when I grew up.  You could more easily stand the ride if you could get to the middle of the quickly moving circular metal platform—a brightly painted spinning disc with welded grab bars called fun!   On the outer edges the ride was definitely more dizzying and much harder to hang on.  Isn’t life like that too?  How easy or difficult is it to get to the center of ourselves—our eternal core of strength when there is so much change happening so quickly? This can be dizzying too. The core of internal strength, please remember, is that which we carry inside ourselves.  It is in everyone. It is that piece of the divine that so many dismiss as separate, and external from our very being.  But, acknowledging this I AM strength is a gift we can access at any time; it’s there for the asking.

And then I wonder and ask, do we need to be more like the leaf on the river, always being guided around the rocks and undercurrents? When we are able to trust this always spinning revolution and know that our lives are co-created by our complete and whole beingness including that God-part within; we are like the leaf.   Or are we barely hanging on for dear life, dizzy, shaken, and too weak and unable to stand upright?

I have come to believe the Wheel of Fortune—represents the wheel of life.  It is a powerful metaphor for our lives; our milestones.  It continually moves—up and down.  It is our job to stand in the center.  At the highest level, writes Pamela Eakins, the wheel is seen as “the wheel of consciousness and a wheel of evolving destiny.”  She continues, “The Wheel of Fortune is seen as a path that brings individuality into alignment with the movement of the Cosmos.”

When necessary these past weeks, I felt strong.  I felt compassion.  I have allowed myself to be vulnerable.  I have been loving. I am at peace.  I felt like I have stood at the center of the wheel. I feel like I am in alignment with the Universe.  I have pulled on this strength within and I invite you to do the same.

“As the world turns,

so do I.

When I change for the good,

I can touch the sky.”

Wings of Change

Inspired Wellness Within

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

http://www.cathrinesilver.com

Dear Dad . . . Open Letter for Father’s Day

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Dad’s 80th Birthday–with siblings:  L to R, Chris, Caryl, Cathrine, Charles Jr

Dear Dad,

I won’t be calling or sending you a card this year, but you already know that, don’t you?  It has been almost a year since your transition—or what I affectionally call ‘your graduation day’ (from earth school).  Your expansion and lessons for this incarnation complete. I cannot be sad; that would be selfish.  I saw your frustrations—exasperations—and vexations prior to your exit. Life did not hold the same pleasures or satisfaction; no words were necessary to explain, I knew. Unexplainable to most, I know you have not left me or anyone dear to you for that matter.   I know you are with me always—everyday—and every moment; divinity hidden behind the veil of mystery. Separation only an illusion.

We all react differently to death. I must say that I know you are around me more now than when you were here physically as my Father.  I know you helped me bury my cat Sasha last October.  In my minds-eye, I heard you tell me “go get your gloves and shovel.” We did that together. To confess, it’s not because I ever felt disconnected  but, because I know a piece of you has stayed with me and I know you understand more of what I’m about; who I am and what I believe.  I know I confused you at times; but that is ok too.  You get me now.  Your understanding has clarity. You exist in a quantum expression entangled with all here on Earth.

We said our good-bye’s in May.  I am grateful.  I never thought about what an example you were to me; I only hoped that I can impart these qualities to my own two sons. I share that now.  Perhaps, that is why we chose these soul relationships this time around?  You my father; I your eldest daughter.

I am grateful you showed me compassion by your way of being; your gentleness, caring, concern and kindness towards others. I say it kept me sane.  This way of being shown through with your customers at Equine House and the way you treated our animals; the horses, adopted dogs and barn cats.

You taught me about unconditional love.  When I married my now ex-husband, you may not have understood, but you assured me that as long as I was happy—you were happy too.  Not all parents can do that.  You stepped up when it counted.

As a young child and young adult, you always respected us—all of us.  You listened and tried your best to solve the crisis at hand;  I appreciated that you listened.  Sometimes, we just need to be heard; I needed to be heard and you were there.

You taught me patience and anticipation.  These were lessons while horseback riding, but they apply to life too.  I believe now they are a metaphor for how we live.  They were not fearful warnings, but common sense practical guidance. It works as well today, as it did decades ago. I know life is a wheel—constantly moving up and down.  Cycles within cycles; patience is key—so is trust. You taught me that too.

You taught me about the simplicity of the the small pleasures perhaps the real secret to life; that satisfaction from within.  The value of spending time with your children.  The side trips along small winding country roads back to the barns from the feed store or the hardware store. You held the space for the family vacations; that once a year camping excursion to The Big Woods camp ground, the Calgary Stampede, Grand Tetons or Yellowstone Park.  Thank you.  I too shared adventures with my sons while they were young.  I know they will one day look back fondly—just as I look back fondly now.  It could have been yesterday.

Most recently, I discovered you always loved to finish your dinner with a dessert. I never realized that growing up; maybe everything was lost in the hustle of school and hurried family dinners.  It was only when I visited those few weeks each year, I discovered this nugget.  I understand Grandfather was like that too—the apple never falls far from the tree.  (smiling) There was a child-like pleasure when Linda ( your wife) and I announced we had a sweet-treat to complete the meal baking in the oven.  A twinkle in your eyes, and smile as a child like innocence couldn’t contain the excitement over the confection presented; an image indelibly seared forever in my mind.  I recall the bakery that we used to visit every trip to Washington in La Conner; that delicious apple dumpling—more like a single serving apple pie!  How cool is that Dad? I found a recipe on line. I know you’ll enjoy it with me—when I make it at home!

And so, on this Father Day—I know you view the world differently these days from your new vantage point; I don’t know how that looks.  You know what I am thinking. You know more about me than I know about myself.  You know many of the secrets of the Universe that I would love to know—and that’s ok. I’ll wait.  But, one thing I do know, is love is something that rends the veil.  It is a multidimensional attribute.  And so, from my soul to yours, I wish you Happy Father’s Day—and Thank you for being you!  Recorded in the history of earth and humanity—that will never change and always be part of who we are—and who we have been and for that I can celebrate this day and all Fathers’ Days to come!

Love Always,

Cathrine

Oh, and no, I won’t forget the Vanilla Ice Cream—I know it wouldn’t be complete without the frozen sweet topping melting over the hot apple dessert!  LOL  Yum. 🙂

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Apple Dumpling ala mode, La Conner Bakery, La Conner, Washington.

My Father’s Death

Dear Fellow Travelers and Beloved Souls,

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Me, holding his horse as a young colt.

As most of you know from my Facebook post, on July 6th, I unexpectedly and suddenly lost my loving, gentle, and kindhearted  father.  He was 84.  The obituary in the paper began  . . . the gentle giant. . . I never saw him that way, but many did with his 6’6” stature. I just knew him as ‘Dad.’ The services were Monday, July 13th—the day after my 58th birthday.

At the funeral services many different ideas and beliefs surfaced as we all directly faced the question of death and mortality.  I realized this as a spontaneous mini-exposé in front of those gathered,  speaking at the microphone that my father would be back. I would know him, I continued,  this time playing on the playground, laughing and joyful—perhaps as my grandson—and we would recognize each other when I saw his eyes; the windows to the soul. Life is a continuous circle with —no beginning and no end.  We are eternal and forever and as old as the cosmos. In esoteric circles it is accepted  that we most often reincarnate in karmic  (old term) or akashic groups.  As close family and friends gathered in the small Weller chapel together; we witnessed, his journey as Charles complete. And those he touched were tearful as we said our good-byes; big or small, he had touched us all.

Who was he? And, who are we? Each milestone always begs questions, bigger questions from us all, does it not?  I share what resonates; it may or may not with you—but this is my truth.  God doesn’t change; we do. Try it on.  Does it make you feel better?  More at peace?  Or does it shake your belief system?  Make you uncomfortable?  It is not meant to; these ideas are meant to bring peace.  Remember these are just words and thoughts—nothing harmful or anything to fear—ideas, that’s all. 

If we look back in history, we are aware of other belief systems that at one time were true—only to be replaced by updated ideas and new systems of belief.  Two of my favorites are when we as humanity believed the earth was flat, or that germs did not exist, only because we could not see them; they were there all along.  We think differently today.  Is this multi-dimensional view simply the next step in an evolutionary process of human consciousness and acknowledging the god within?  Perhaps a  growth, expansion and awareness of our individual divinity?  That we are the light?

Could it be as simple as putting down our elementary school primer—and graduating to a high school or college text?  I ask you to ponder this possibility.  Of course, there will never be any proof until we take our last breath and our own journey across the veil transferring our energy to our real state—our home; the great central sun.  A metaphor I like.  Great because it’s about our angelic magnificence.  Central because it’s inside us and everywhere. Sun, because we’re light and part of the creative source we call god. What a grand vision. We must each use our own discernment—even stepping back from what our intellect “knows.” These ideas come with a deep knowing and intuitive understanding about  our ‘temporary state’ here on the earth plane—certainly part of a much bigger picture than we could possibly imagine or possibly fit into our small linear 3-D brown corrugated  box on the earth plane within the multi-verses we have occupied.  Each life we live brings its own story, lessons, “tests”, wisdom and compassion. Entangled together like a collected ball of yarn with many colors and textures, our reality more akin to a grand and classic Shakespearean play.  Knowing when the curtain goes down, the one with the knife in his chest gets up and bows with the rest—going on to the cast party afterward to celebrate the success of the play.  Death is like that too.

In his life as Charles, my father was a poet and author. He was a horseman.  He was a father to four children—a husband—a son—and a brother.  He served his country. He loved his garden roses.  Red was his favorite color. He delighted in meeting others and hearing their stories.  He loved cars.  He loved to laugh.  He loved his family— fascinated in discovering his ancestral linage.  He loved to wear ties and his collection was vast and varied; fun and meaningful to him. He delighted in history, quirky humorous movies and the Washington Huskies, never missing an opportunity to don his purple and gold in his later years.    But, that is only part of our story.  It is a story of our linear bias and human mind.  It is a story that we tell ourselves and it has purpose.  But what if it was far grander than our human eyes could see?  What if this was all about learning and growing? The planet of free choice and discovering the magnificence inside and our god piece, raising the vibration and the consciousness of our planet? What if this is a catalyst for even more growth and learning; not only for us here on earth but for our cosmic family—in a mission of love?   What if it could open our eyes to something bigger—if we are only willing to look?

I know he is around me. I feel a glow around my heart.  There has been an transference of energy and he exists simply at a different vibration; he views my colors now.  I wish I could see his colors—but that is not my gift as Cathrine. Einstein taught and left us the iconic phrase ‘energy cannot be created or destroyed.’ Therefore, even science acknowledges he is around me always in that quantum multidimensional state, which restricts our full understanding of our grandness in our limited human form and perception of our multi-dimensional state.

There is a store in my neighborhood. Jezebels, carries many wonderful and unique cards. The words on one brightly colored note complete with hand-painted pink silk-screened roses and vines caught my attention one day.  “When we are born, we are crying and everyone else is smiling.  When we die, we are smiling and everyone else is crying.”

When I am sad, I think of this.  I think of all the wonderful memories we shared as Father and Daughter.  “You had a special relationship with your Dad.” my cousin wrote in his condolence card.  We did.  I hadn’t realized it was so visible to others; energy is that way. So is love. The last gift he left me was a birthday card; he loved cards.  As he lay in the hospital, my birthday was a week away.  Did he know he was not going to be here to share cake and blow out candles?  He sent his wife home to retrieve his cards; he selected one for me.  A young girl and her horse; that was me.   The early memories we shared were remarkably simple: trips to the feed store—getting hay—repairing fences—doctoring horses—the farrier—Dairy Queen.  Those easy simple times that meant the most to me as the years passed.  I told him so. He kept me sane I confessed.  The happiest memories of my childhood—and the freedom I felt at the “Barns.” Perhaps it was the same for him too?

I feel a glow around my heart.  I know it is him.  He is always with me.  We are eternal and forever in both directions. We have traveled many times before.  He graduated first.  One day it will be my turn.  We are not finished.  We have work to do on earth.  And, he will be back.  I know he feels me too and ‘hears’ this message.  I can talk to him anytime. Thank you Dad, for all the loving, simple, laughing and compassionate moments. Next time, DQ is on me!

Inspired Wellness Within

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

CathysilverHealth@gmail.com

Biological Decoding, Family Constellations, Hypnosis, Nutrition, Spiritual & Grief Counseling

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