How Do I Find Peace Again

(I read this on Neale’s latest CWG Foundation bulletin. I thought it’s worth sharing.)

Letters to Neale:

How do I find peace, again?

Reader question:

Dear Neale,

First, I want to thank you for writing your books and having the patience and perseverance to complete all of them and see them through to publishing.  I began reading them when my daughter Allison was born with Noonan Syndrome.  She was ill off and on and endured 7 surgeries in 9 years.  I was desperate to understand why she had to endure such pain and hardship and what I had done, if anything, to possibly cause her to live the difficult life she was living.

When she was 9, she was running on the playground at school and died instantly from an arrhythmia.  She had a contagious passion for life and made each moment fun.  She sang and laughed while doing everything.  Everyone seemed to be drawn to her. Even strangers would come up to her and want to talk to her and touch her.  I have been contacted by people as far away as New York who had heard of a friend of a friend who knew Ally.

Since her passing, I find I have lost my passion for life.  I have another daughter who is recovering from the trauma of losing her only sibling.  I can’t help feeling that if I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I would be relieved.  I feel emotionally exhausted and I just want to move on from this part of my existence.

I know Ally is OK and I believe that I will see her again.  It is almost as if while she was alive, I felt a direct connection to God.  I could look at her and hold her and I felt this peaceful feeling that I believe came from her.  I do believe that she was an angel.

I do not fear death and just want this pain to end.  Living for 9 years with Ally, knowing in my heart that she was not going to live a full life, and then losing her so suddenly, has just drained me.  I continue on, have gotten my teaching credential, and I try every day to reach the children I teach and help them be the best they can be.  But something has changed in me.

Is there any way I can find that peaceful feeling again?  I want to learn from Ally, and be the best I can be every day.  I do not wish to end my own life, I just am longing for the feeling I had when my Ally was with me.  I have dreamed of her twice since her death and both times I felt the connection again.  Any words of wisdom? ~Cindee

Neale Responds:

My dear Cindee,

I can think of nothing more devastating to any person than the loss of a child.  I completely understand your emotional response to this, and I experience enormous empathy when reading your letter.  You are a brave and very strong woman to have continued on to obtain your teaching certificate and to create a life where you are around other children constantly, to say nothing of your other daughter, who is, in your words, still recovering from the trauma of losing her only sibling.  I am sure that I do not need to tell you that this daughter needs you now more than ever, and that the children who look to you for care and guidance in the classroom every day are likewise depending on you at a very high level.  So I see the unique situation in which life has placed you — and I honor you for holding that place with such courage.

The first thing I find myself wanting to do, Cindee, is recommend that you read (or re-read, as the case may be) my book Home with God: In a Life That Never Ends.  This book will reconfirm for you everything that you already seem to know about your wonderful Ally — and perhaps much more that you may only have wondered about or suspected.  Not the least of this information is the passage of that book having to do with the death of children.  That passage tells us, Cindee, that…

“Death is very kind to children, because children rarely move into death holding all sorts of preconceived negative notions about what happens afterward. They are pure. They have only just come from the spiritual realm. They are not that far removed from the Core of Their Being. They have just emerged from The Essence. And so small children move through the first stages of death very quickly and return almost immediately into Mergence with The Essence.

“It should be said that children ‘grow up’ in the Afterlife. That is, they become fully aware and fully conscious of all that is going on, and of Ultimate Reality. They know why they came to the Earth and they know why they left as early as they did. If they feel complete with all of that, they will move on, in whatever form they choose. If they do not feel complete, they will have the same opportunity to ‘come back to life’ as any other soul. The process is the same for all souls, no matter what the age of their body when they leave the physical world.

“But now I should like to say something about the agenda of children who die at a very young age.

“Those souls who enter the body and leave the body within a very short period — children who die…at a very tender age — inevitably do so in service to the agenda of another, at a very high level… In some cases they are required to leave early in order to do that. This is never, however, a tragedy for that soul. They have agreed to leave early.

“Every soul who comes to the body to serve the agenda of others is an angel — and every child who has died very young has done so to bring a gift to another. That gift may not be understood for some time by parents and others who are, naturally, deeply grieving.   But I promise you that as time goes by and healing occurs, the gift will be seen, it will be received, and the work of that little sweetheart — who could only be described as an angel — will have been accomplished.”

I know, Cindee, because you have told me so, that you already know that Ally was and is an angel.  But I wonder if you have previously considered the rest of that passage from HOME WITH GOD.  There is an agenda that Ally came here to serve, and it was not only her own.  Or, to put this another way, her own agenda was to serve the agenda of others.  These would include everyone whose life was touched by her…and you tell me that this was a great many people.  I am not surprised.  Yet have you considered the possibility that this included your own spiritual agenda, Cindee?

I know that, on the surface, that may be a difficult thing for a mother saddened by the death of her child to hear.  But I believe that just below the surface of that challenging statement is a deep revelation of enormous value.  I know that during the remainder of your years on Earth, Cindee, you will touch the lives of a great many people — and a great many of them, because of your chosen profession, will be children.  Do you think this is an accident?  I, Cindee, do not.  I see in it a perfect design. And I believe that you will be a more compassionate, more caring, more sensitive, more understanding, more insightful, more wonderful-in-every-way guide for those children than they could ever have hoped to find at their schoolhouse…all because of the experience in life that you have had, and that your angel Ally has brought you to.

I am going to go further, Cindee.  I am going to say that I believe that Ally and the souls of all those other children had it set up that way.  That is, your wonderful child died for a reason much larger than you might ever have imagined: to prepare you to touch the lives of not just one child, but hundreds and hundreds of children, in a way which could only emerge from a heart that had been broken…and healed again, thus to know the true wonder and glory of life, of childhood, of Divinity Itself, and the worth of each and every soul.  I believe every child in every classroom you ever enter from this day until the end of your life is waiting, Cindee, for you to give him or her that gift.  I believe that your other daughter awaits your giving of that gift every time she folds herself into your arms.  And I believe that when you hold her, you hold Ally, too.  For Ally’s soul accompanies the soul of her sister into your arms, that her healing and joy may be yours, even as yours is her sister’s.

Is this too large a reality for you to embrace or comprehend, Cindee?  I don’t think so, or you would never have written me.  So go now, and celebrate Ally’s everlasting presence by honoring her soul’s intention, and yours.  Shed not tears of sadness, but tears of joy, for as you bring lightness and happiness and the promise of tomorrow to all other children — and, indeed, to all people who enter your life — you bring them a piece of Ally…who, after all, was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, a piece of YOU.

God bless you, my friend, and thank you for writing to me.  A part of me shall be with you always because of this exchange we have shared.  Know that God sends you strength and wisdom in unending abundance.

With Love,
Neale

The Bling Heart

11 July 2018 Wednesday 10:23pm

“Losing a loved one has a way of putting everything in perspective… please explain that one to me.”

That was a tweet from someone I follow on Twitter. He recently lost his 19 year-old son who died in his sleep. Can you please help us understand the phrase “has a way of putting everything in perspective”? Which I believe people like to say to someone who has just had a devastating or traumatic experience happen in their life.

What does the word “perspective” mean?

I found two relevant meanings on Dictionary app: One—the state of one’s ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship.” Sample sentence is: “You have to live here a few years to see local conditions in perspective.” And the second meaning is “the faculty of seeing all the relevant data in a meaningful relationship.” Sample sentence is: “Your data is admirably detailed but it lacks perspective.”

Why do you think these two definitions are relevant to our discussion?

Well, because they mention the word “relationship”. Isn’t our discussion about relationships?

Yes, it is. So now repeat that statement above and let’s see how the definitions relate to it.

Okay. “Losing a loved one has a way of putting everything in perspective.” So now, I guess I’m supposed to replace the word “perspective” with its meaning?

Go ahead. Let’s see if we can expand on it.

Here goes—Losing a loved one has a way of putting everything into showing the facts one knows about having a meaningful interrelationship. Hm, that actually makes sense.

How so?

Many of us actually know the basic principles of how to maintain a strong and loving relationship. But many of us are sometimes too busy with matters of this world that we sort of put our own relationships with ourselves and with our own family to the back burner. What I mean is—our own self-growth and family interrelationships are not at the top of our To-do list. Sometimes we learn this folly the hard way. We don’t realise we had it good until we lose it—as the saying goes. It is when we lose someone we love that we sometimes realise we could have done so, so much more in making that relationship into a loving and enriching one.

That last sentence is the explanation, my dear. But to expand even more on it—imagine the word “perspective” in that statement as a jigsaw puzzle in the shape of a heart. And that heart-shaped puzzle shows all the relationships you’ve had in a span of a lifetime. When you are born, your life is like the outline of a heart which is a jigsaw puzzle—no pieces in place yet except for that one piece which is yourself. Let’s place it right in the middle. You are now standing alone in the middle of a heart-shaped jigsaw puzzle with no piece in place. As an infant, you have no perspective yet of who you really are because you are not able to make deliberate conscious choices when it comes to relationships. You have subconscious choices, of course, like instinctively relating to your birth mother or father. You are still not aware of these choices. It is when you learn to make conscious choices that you begin to acquire the other pieces of that heart-shaped puzzle. You will be acquiring these pieces as you go along through life. So now, you have a couple of pieces which are from your mother and father. (There are now several deviations when it comes to what is a family—but let’s keep it to the basic to make for easier discussion.) You may have pieces that are from your siblings. There will be from your relatives, like your grandparents, uncles and aunties, if any. As you grow into adulthood, there will be pieces coming from your teachers, friends, co-workers, lovers, husbands and wives, children, etc, etc. Now, as you stand in the middle with all these pieces around you, you begin to see the “perspective”. You begin to see who you really are in relation to all these relationships—which we refer to here as pieces of a puzzle that is the shape of you. Because this world is actually nothing but relationships. There might be pieces that you would see as brilliant in colour and there will be those that are not so brilliant—dim, in fact, because these particular pieces of relationships do not shine that much for you. And then there will be pieces that may have cracks in them.

I know what those are—broken relationships.

Yes.

What about a relationship whereby a parent loses a child that he or she loves very much? A child who never reached his or her fullest potential? What kind of jigsaw piece would that look like?

If there was immense love, then it would be a brilliant one.

But the parent’s heart is broken upon the child’s death. It can’t really have a crack on it, now can it?

You tell me how that piece would look like. After all, you have a very rich imagination.

Me? I don’t think so. Anyway, if I lost a child (touch wood) who I never saw grow up, I imagine that tiny jigsaw piece to be brilliant but there’ll be a shape of a teardrop on it. You know, like the crying emoticon.

A very good visual.

Thank you. So let’s get back to that statement. “Losing a loved one has a way of putting everything in perspective.” I’m thinking—is this meant to judge the heartbroken? Or is it meant to uplift?

The meaning of everything is the meaning you give it, my child. Imagine that you have just lost your loved one and you are grieving. You are looking at your heart-shaped jigsaw puzzle of life with all its pieces that are shining brightly and some not so bright. You have in your hand that little piece which is the symbol of your relationship with your lost loved one. That brilliant piece with a teardrop on it. Do you see any other piece that looks like that in your heart-shaped puzzle?

Of course. There’s my Dad’s piece. And then there’s that piece that represents my marriage.

Ah, your marriage. Which led to a divorce. Will that piece be brilliant or dim? Because how brilliant or how dim each piece will be is entirely up to you. Did a relationship enrich your life? Did you partake of any life lessons from it? Did it make you sad? Or depressed? Did it devastate? Is the relationship still active? Has it died?

I guess it would be brilliant because I’ve learnt a lot from it. And since I can choose how I perceive a relationship, then I want all the pieces in my heart-shaped jigsaw puzzle to be brilliant. How awesome that would look like! A heart-shaped puzzle that is so bling!

Yes, that heart would definitely shine for all the world to see. That is how the heart of a true master looks like.

The Flower Vase

21 May 2018 Monday 6:43am

“The word “abandonment” doesn’t belong in God’s dictionary.” What’s this about, God?

Please look up the meaning of the word “abandonment.”

Okay. “Abandonment” is the noun of the verb “abandon.” And it has a lot of meanings:

1) to leave completely and finally; forsake utterly; desert: to abandon one’s farm; to abandon a child; to abandon a sinking ship.

2) to give up; discontinue; withdraw from: to abandon a research project; to abandon hopes for a stage career.

3) to give up the control of: to abandon a city to an enemy army.

4) to yield (oneself) without restraint or moderation; give (oneself) over to natural impulses, usually without self-control: to abandon oneself to grief.

The first three sort of sound the same. But number four is more like..Um…More like..

More like freedom?

Yes! The sample sentence says “To abandon oneself to grief.” I can substitute the word “abandon” with the word “free” or “freedom.” It’ll be like – to be free to express one’s grief. Or to have the freedom to grieve.

Good job.

Thank you. Wait a sec. I don’t think I can substitute the word “free” or the word “freedom” for the word “abandonment” in my tweet – “The word “freedom” doesn’t belong in God’s dictionary.” That sounds weird.

It will not sound weird if you believe that God is everything and God is the nothing.

I don’t understand. It’ll be difficult for me to believe something which I don’t understand.

Let me explain. Take for example an empty clay pot or a flower vase.

Let’s take a flower vase. I like flowers.

Okay. There’s a flower vase in front of you. That flower vase is a perfect example of God being everything and God being the nothing. Let’s say it’s made of porcelain. When you touch it, you can feel the physical part of it. The physical of everything is God because God is everything. Now, put your hand into the mouth of that vase without touching the porcelain. What do you feel?

I feel air. I feel nothing.

Now, put your hand above and around the vase without touching the porcelain. What do you feel?

Still nothing. Just air.

The everything includes the nothing. And since God is everything, then God is also the nothing. In order for you to experience the porcelain of the vase, there must exist the nothingness around and inside the vase. The everything cannot exist without the nothingness. And the nothingness cannot exist without the physicality of everything. Now do you understand when I say, God is everything and God is the nothing?

Yeah, sort of. But what’s that got to do with my tweet – “The word “abandonment” doesn’t belong in God’s dictionary.”

I will never abandon my children, you know that. But do children abandon their parents?

Some do, yeah.

So since God is everything and God is you and everyone else, then God abandons and God does not abandon. Because God is everything.

I prefer the statement – God doesn’t abandon.

But most of you abandon your parents, yes?

Like I said, some do. Total abandonment for some reason or other. Then there’s part-abandonment when most of us have to leave the nest when we’re old enough or when we get married.

Why?

So we can be independent. And focus on our own family, spouses and children. But we still check on our parents and visit them as often as we can just to see how they are. I guess like what I’m doing here now. How are you doing, God?

I’m good, thank you. Nice of you to visit. What about your mother? How is she?

She’s very good. She’s right here next to me, having her breakfast.

Why haven’t you left the nest?

I did. But I got divorced and we had to sell our apartment. So Mum and Dad welcomed me and my children back home. Lucky me. I can’t say much for those mothers and their children who have nowhere to go.

That’s another long story of abandonment, my child. Let’s talk about that another time. When it comes to discussions of the oppression of women, it will take forever.

Oh no, you’re abandoning me!

Never.

I’m kidding!

I’m not.