Showing posts with label How to SUrvive Life (and Death). Show all posts
Showing posts with label How to SUrvive Life (and Death). Show all posts
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Visit the Brand New Website
I'm very happy to announce my new website is up–it's basic for now–but soon I'll be listing events, and featuring reviews and links to shows and happenings...💛
Come by and check it out!
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Don't Be Afraid of Your Fear of Death (An Excerpt)
I talked a little about "scary" stuff back at the beginning, and that darn elephant is no doubt still in the room with us. Did you happen to notice that huge, quivering pink creature in the corner? It's just our old companion, Fear.
Fear is like a bad relation who shows up uninvited and moves in with you for an unspecified length of stay. Or just comes walking out of the guest room unexpectedly one morning, scratching his heinie and asking what's for breakfast. You don't want to have to feed him, but it's always hard not to when he moves in like that. After all, it's only the human thing to do.
If I knew how much time I'd spent in my life fearing things that never happened, I would be stunned, I'm sure. It would be one of those statistics like how much time I've spent stuck in traffic, or what percentage of my life I've slept in total.
At this point, I've probably spent years fearfully worrying about one thing or another. Yet when I think back on it, a good 98 percent of what I was worried about never came to pass. And if the other two percent did come to pass, it just kept right on passing without too much consequence—or even left me better off than before.
Sometimes, my fears were answered (especially if I was helping them along, as usual) or small fears came out of nowhere and suddenly became unjustifiably huge and seemingly insurmountable. But then even those dark, looming threats turned into something self-imposed and imaginary—not based on anything real. But Fear certainly can feel plenty real, especially when a fearful situation appears on the horizon ahead, or suddenly and unexpectedly seizes you by the neck.
Still, the one thing that has remained true at the end of all those fears is this: At least now—in this moment—I am still here (as well as can be expected) and things are okay. So I know those fears weren't as real as I am. And if you're with me now, reading this book, you are more real than those fears too. Yet even with this understanding, this wisdom of everything's being just the way it's supposed to be, it's still very difficult not to let fear rent space in my head.
It seems to be even tougher to accept that Fear has almost always been good for me, because it's forced me to take some action that I'd been needing to take for some time. That's actually been the most real aspect of fear in my life. Then, simply recognizing the actions that I needed to take helped deflate the fear, and actually taking those actions gave me relief and renewal, and often took me to a new level of consciousness that I had never expected to find in such a "dark" place.
I imagine I would've been afraid of my Near Death Experiences, if I'd known they were coming. But I didn't. Unless we're very old, or very ill, or find ourselves in a very dangerous place, I don't think we ever see a chance of it coming. In any case, it never serves us to make up scary scenarios about death. Instead, you might try inventing something based on my testimony, as long as we're making things up. Like there's a good chance you may not even know when death is happening, or feel it much when it does; or that it may come quickly, as a pleasant, or even amazing thing. So, as usual, much of that preliminary fear is not necessary at all.
Occasionally, however, fear really is necessary—especially if you're being chased by a bear, or, God forbid, by a crocodile. I hate that. Now that's real Fear. But if there isn't a bear chasing you, then what you really fear when it comes to death is probably just the “Great Unknown," and that's understandable too.
Of course I can only speak from my personal experiences. But keep in mind that thousands and thousands of people have gone on the record on this matter, and report incredibly wonderful things after their transitions. In fact, more often than not they have reported ecstatic releases, joyful reunions, and transcendent surroundings. They have reported experiences of a miraculous nature.
Yet there are some rather bad reports as well. For example, my third experience was much darker than my first, or my second. But I believe that was because I'd become more and more blocked from Love in my life, and was carrying almost nothing but self-centered fear. In one way or another, I believe that's the case with anyone who has a dark, or in some way hellish, transition. My experience didn't last long enough for me to delve deeper into that darkness, thank God; but I do understand a little something about Hell, having definitely touched on a bit of it myself.
If you're living in that kind of self-centered fear in this life that I was, without Love in your heart, you're probably living in a kind of hell already. Hell, as compared to how nice life can be. Heaven is an open-hearted world full of Love and light; Hell is a self-centered world without it. It is always so.
Excerpted from the book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond —now available everywhere, but ask for it it at your local bookstore!
Excerpted from the book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond —now available everywhere, but ask for it it at your local bookstore!
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Why Do We Have to Die?
“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” Lao Tzu
I have the dubious distinction of having "died" three times, experiences I definitely don't recommend; and obviously, I didn't really die because I wouldn't be talking to you now. What I did do was to survive three "Near Death Experiences," each one completely different from the other; and since my books about it (and more), How to Survive Life (and Death) and How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying) were published, I've found myself answering a lot of questions about what death is, what it's like to die, and to the point of this piece: Why do we have to die?
Well, apparently I came back to give you some good news, and some bad news, all based on my (painfully obtained) understanding of it. The good news is that we don't really die, spiritually speaking, we only die to this life of flesh and bones and blood (but many of you suspected as much, I'm sure). The bad news is that we do have to die – our souls seem to require it. On top of that, we have to die in a number of different ways, none of which are all that pleasant, and all of which seem designed to accomplish the same thing. Here's what I mean by that:
If you've ever been around a loved one who's dying, or if you've ever been gravely ill or injured yourself, you know that there's no bluster left in your game in those moments. No claim to fame or fortune remains at all relevant in that grounding bubble of unfortunate reality. What's realized then is a state of absolute humility, where there's no longer any external importance attached, no pretense of "winning"–even though you really are, in a way, because you're free. That state of absolute humility is really a state of grace. You are reduced to the simplest condition of egoless selfhood – the state of simply being who you really are.
Counterintuitively, from that point on everything becomes possible, because in a way, you're starting over. In the grand–call it cosmically spiritual–picture, this happens in a big way when you actually physically die (reincarnation-wise, that is). But first, let's look at the other ways, the other "deaths" our souls require. Let's consider the 'living deaths' that also cause us to regenerate a new, unavoidably more authentic life. Let's look at the difficult times that lead us to be "born again" in this life.
When we witness the death of our family or friends. When a lover or spouse has a change of heart, and decides that they have to leave us and move on to their own new life. When a job or serious expectation we have suddenly, unexpectedly vaporizes – these are all "deaths," of a sort, that cause us to reconsider who we thought we were, and to consider anew who we may have to be from here on. Each death of this sort opens us up, strips us down, and makes us teachable about how we can change and improve our lives on that most important spiritual level – unattached to the material definitions and expectations that have failed to make us happy.
When we learn those hardest-of-all lessons – that our material, ego-based outsides aren't what's really important; when we "die" to that superficial sense of ourselves, and let go of who we thought we were, we instantly expand into Consciousness, and it suddenly becomes possible to become who we all authentically are – not as separate, searching individuals – but instead as loving, giving, creative, contributing pieces of a divine wholeness. Expressions of a single, love-based reality.
Now, let's get back to when we actually die physically. According to the Tibetan Buddhist monks (who really do know all about this stuff), if we don't learn these lessons on a spiritual level, and continue behaving like human animals, delusionally feeding from one desire to the next, we'll be reincarnated as a wild beast, most likely. In the meantime, we'll destroy ourselves, each other, and our planet. Quite a setback on either count, you can be sure.
When I had my experiences I lost my earthly body, and I lost my material identity, but I never lost Consciousness. Instead, I was folded into it. In two of my three NDEs, a new life effervescently expanded around me, I was liberated from the constraining limitations of the material life, and seemingly anything became possible.
So, I'm afraid we do have to die to this difficult form – in a number of difficult ways. That's the deal here, this is a difficult life. But if we, in a way, embrace death – our many "little" deaths and our one "big" one – they will liberate us to our new, unimaginably amazing and wondrous potential, in this life or our next.
And that (I have learned, the hard way) is why we have to die, and have to keep dying. Our souls require it to merge us into our greater life in Love and Consciousness – into a life beyond our wildest dreams.
"Without a dying to the world of the old order, there is no place for renewal, because…it is illusory to hope that growth is but an additive process requiring neither sacrifice nor death. The soul favors the death experience to usher in change."
James Hillman, Suicide and the Soul
So it does appear that our souls "favor," even require, these 'death' experiences to enter the state-of-being that we think of when we think of "Heaven" —you've got to die to go to Heaven, everyone knows that. And everyone has had a taste of "Heaven on Earth" at one time or another in their life, so we know it is possible to find it here and now (in a much easier way...). We look into the guides to getting there in: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), now available from Llewellyn Worldwide.
Read a related article: Suicide and the Superficial Self, at Gaia's "Spiritual Growth."
The latest book: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor from Llewellyn Worldwide can be ordered direct on this page or online; and the first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is available the same ways – but ask for them it at your local bookstore!
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Life, Death, and Baby Boomers––an Excerpt
"I'm not afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens."
Woody Allen
When I mentioned the quote earlier that Life doesn't happen to you, it happens for you, I think that without a doubt the same is true for death. Death doesn't happen to you, it happens for you (unless you are eaten by a crocodile; that could not possibly be for you). We're all part of a much bigger set of ongoing considerations––the big picture I'm asking you to see as the context of your life.
In particular, we need to escape that one self-centered cultural definition that's leading us so far astray––that death is our obliteration. The sad, absolute cessation of Life. The final chord of a sonata that starts wonderfully well, but ends in a dirge. That idea that we only have "one go-round," "one shot at it," and then "the party's over." There's a selfishness (a "sinfulness") in that definition that prevents us from living well, from showing up for each other with the proper compassionate presence. It's a self-centeredness that insists we should be getting something we want out of it all and each other when, instead, we could be forming true partnerships with one another––an understanding global fellowship of shared human experience––and creating a sane stewardship of life here on Earth. When we can get ourselves over this delusional assumption of self-importance, we can create a much less "sinful," more evolutionarily responsible, way of living.
If we know we're missing the mark with the cultural definition of death––one that leads to the fear of losing what we want to hang on to and the "I've gotta get mine before it's all over" approach––then what is a more realistic definition? What's the proper direction in which to aim our lives? Well, Shakespeare's always good for a few spiritual bull's-eyes, like this one: Death is a consummation most devoutly to be wished! So we can see death as a lifelong goal that we struggle to attain––one that we want to meet with preparation, with humility and honor, and with open-hearted promise. It is our matriculation of sorts.
Speaking from my own experience, death is an expansion into transcendent being, for crying out loud. We need to restore death to it's rightful place as a sacred ritual of passage. Let's get kind of Egyptian with it again. Don't mourn me; send me off with an open heart and a song! This party is definitely not over.
It's absolutely essential that we show up for each other with this positive, life-affirming definition of death as a continuation of always being present. Contrary to what Woody Allen might request, you must never take a raincheck for anyone's dying. (That's the only "must" in the book.) While we supposedly have much busier lives than ever, that's just an illusion caused by technology. The really important parts of our lives are still what's really important. Put the business aside. What technology is best suited for is efficiently arranging our lives around those important people and occasions, so that we can maintain close contact with the loved ones involved in all of our momentous life events––making the appropriate reservations, booking the trip, and being there; contributing whatever you possibly can; showing up in a way that honors Life's real connections of the heart; bringing Love right up to the surface, front and center where it belongs. Again, it's not about me; it's about we.
Notice how when we're "coming to the end" of our time in this life with someone we love or for ourselves, just how precious and how special that remaining time together suddenly is. How intensely focused our love and appreciation for each other becomes in those few moments that are left. We need to try to treat each other that way all the time, and grow spiritually together in that kind of Love. We need to recognize the eternal in each other, always. That's what's really important here; everything else is a distant second place. These may be lofty ideals, granted, but pursuing them throughout our lives is time well spent, and leads to a sense of fulfillment that can never be matched in any other way.
From the time we reach that more adult perception we start to come upon as teenagers, to the time we lay ourselves down, our essential spirit remains generally young and energetic––especially in pursuing our passion for Life. It's just our bodies that atrophy, that break down and require costly repairs––or that just quit running. Our spirits, our eternal selves, always feel youthful. They're always ready to keep growing upward and onward, and so they do. That essential part of us can only collapse under the weight of selfish self-centeredness and that oppressively off-the-mark definition of death––and the negative effect it can have on the last third of our lives––when we permit those attitudes to define us as limited.
The truth is that we always have that unflappable, limitless hope that comes along with youth. Just scratch the surface and, like Love, it's always there. We've also got all that blind faith that we don't hardly notice enough even to take for granted when we're young. And, although it seems somehow harder to come by as we age, there's also more evidence of that faith as we grow older. Hope, and faith are real working spiritual mechanisms that are always alive, and always will be in all of our lives. And if you just add grace to those two, then you've got my three favorite names for girls.
Read about this and much more in: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor from Llewellyn Worldwide available direct on this page or online. The first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is available the same ways – but ask for it it at your local bookstore!
Monday, October 19, 2015
A "How to Survive Life (and Death)" Excerpt from the Chapter "The Last Time I Checked (Out), I Was in Arizona"
Perhaps the scariest, but most awe-inspiring (and comforting), realization I finally reached—long after all my bumps and bruises had subsided—has also been the hardest one for me to wrap my head around and to actually learn to live with. It's the part I mentioned earlier that has to do with really never getting any privacy (in a way that has probably crossed everyone's mind at one time or another).
Years later, when I came to the point where I could turn the corner on all the pain I'd suffered and caused in my life, I was hit by something I'd known all along—something very, very moving: Someone had been with me each time I nearly died. Someone had gently shepherded me away from my wrecked car; someone had shown me those scrupulously selected scenes of great significance from my life; and someone had gently, but forcefully, pushed me back into this life to tell you what I'm telling you now. I've realized now that it was one someone—my guide, my guardian, my angel—whom I have finally come to know personally (like a lost and loving aunt). I'm certain that we all have one, and that we are all receiving that same kind of personal attention. We are never alone.
Now, we all know why that's scary. I mean, really, somebody's watching me all the time? That's right. But it's no big deal because, fortunately, I'm not particularly important, and neither are you. Nobody is, yet everybody is.
And "all the time" is nothing really. I believe that our angels observe us from a perspective apart from time. I believe they can see every one of those life moments eternally, as they happen, like discreet panes of time suspended in space—in much the same way that those moments can suspend themselves in our memories. All of this is happening now. All of it has always been happening now, and always will. Being human makes this impossible to see. Yet, in our hearts, each of us knows the cause and effect of all these moments strung together, especially when we concede to this intimate exposure of the truth. We know the parts of our lives that need mending, the edges that need smoothing, the loose ends that need to be bound.
Who really wants a witness to all their stuff, regardless of how forgiving that witness may be? It's been said that "your sickness lies in your secrets"—your misdeeds, selfishness, hostile thoughts, and all that stuff we "safely" hide in our little compartments. Being human makes us want to believe that no one can see it written on our faces, or veiled in our desires, or behind our actions. But, of course, they do. That's who we are, on the outside. The question is, who are we really; and who are we going to be? Those self-revealing secrets shouldn't cause us fear, because we're actually keeping them so we can learn from them. Life doesn't happen to you. . .
Our angels (and angelic people) immediately forgive our misdeeds because they, too, know them so well. In this way, our fears can be dissolved into the reality of that profound intimacy—that shared knowledge of our greater selves. The Sufis call it fana, the dissolving of the human self into Eternal Love. That's nice, isn't it?
I think it was a great Swami named Maharshi who said that we don't fear death because of the painful end of life. By that time, many of us are ready for it. What we're never ready for is that painful accounting for what we've been up to, that golden interview. It's an embarrassment we naturally wish to avoid, again. So death is a blissful relief, but it can be made even more blissful by the way we live.
All of this helps me describe the hidden, but always available, "technology of the heart" that I've been talking about. It's all part of that greater reality that we're actually occupying—the realm of the spirit that constantly enfolds, supports, and directs us—and to which we and all of Life belong. But you already knew that.
Still, I hope they haven't been watching everything. . .
Not to scare you any more than the idea of being watched all the time, but in the context of my last moments in Arizona, it is clear to me that there are real consequences to being bad—both now and later. It just simply is not good. Being self-centered, cruel, violent, even just unconscious will deliver us to a "darker" place, in this life or the next, than where we might be able to live otherwise. How much darker is up to you, what you've done in Life, and how hard you're willing to look at yourself–and don't fool yourself, everything is accounted for.
It comes as no surprise, does it? There simply are better ways to live and better ways to die, and one has everything to do with the other. And as I've found out about ways to die, exiting on a bad note is not the best way to get there.
The way this physicality is imbued with life energy—the means of our animation and of our sensual awareness—is all achieved by a pretty particular set of forces. And it won't do to go about releasing it all willy-nilly, or without some consideration and some proper well-deserved reason. It may require effort.
Personally, along with the very clear lessons I've learned through my own experiences, I find a lot of resonance in the wisdom of the ancient masters when it comes to the possibilities for our future, our past, and our present. And how can you go wrong with the good old ancient masters, for crying out loud? So, as best I can (and preposterous as it may seem), I'm going to try to describe what the three "fatal" experiences I've had have taught me about what may actually be the best way to go about "dying"—which (at the risk of sounding like a broken record) I don't believe is really dying, but actually just changing forms from this matter into a form of energy that grows out beyond our current constraints into an entirely different dimension of being.
I hope that, by now, you see that this is the central message of this whole book—what my experiences taught me and what I want to pass on to you: Simply that there's nothing to fear about dying. It's really a logical and beautiful culmination of Life, and quite a fluid process. And once you get past the rough patches you may have to cross to get there, you'll see, as well, that there is no Death.
The book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is now available everywhere, but ask for it it at your local bookstore!
Monday, November 3, 2014
An International Association of Near Death Studies (IANDS) Interview
"Believe me, it was worth the wait. Reading it reminded me of nothing less that Ram Dass' famous book "Be Here Now," but without all the references to LSD." Lee Witting, International Association of Near Death Studies.
Listen to Lee's excellent interview, on Talkzone: How To Survive Life And Death, A Guide to Happiness in This World and Beyond, #NDE Radio
Listen to Lee's excellent interview, on Talkzone: How To Survive Life And Death, A Guide to Happiness in This World and Beyond, #NDE Radio

Labels:
How to SUrvive Life (and Death),
IANDS,
NDE,
Ram Dass,
spirituality
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Reading Between the Lines!
As a longtime designer I've designed my first book with something very different in mind. It's about life, and death, and how to "suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," and come out ahead – even through life's most difficult passages. Check out this kind and concise review by the principal reviewer for Bookshelf Awareness (Thank you, Kathleen!)
Monday, April 7, 2014
"How to Survive Life (and Death)," An Author Q&A for Patheos Book Club
Here's a very nice, and very informative Author Q&A about the book, from the Patheos Book Club. I hope you enjoy!
Labels:
How to SUrvive Life (and Death),
NDE,
spiritual
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Second Sight Radio Interview for How to Survive Life (and Death)
This past Thursday night I had the great pleasure of being the guest of Second Sight Radio, with it's terrific hosts, Victor Fuhrman and Chris George. It was a wonderful couple hours, as we got to delve quite deeply into the new book, How to Survive Life (and Death). I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed doing it!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)