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For many years, I have been extolling the virtues of white light. I've written about it in my novel, Sherry and the Unseen World (iuniverse, 2005) and elsewhere. I have taught countless people to access white light. I even used to drive around with a bumper sticker I had designed which said "surround the world in white light".
Some people see white light as universal healing energy and others as the light of spirit. It has been used by healers for centuries. You can access white light by simply imagining sparkly light around a person or a situation or even yourself. White light is like what happened when Cinderella's fairy godmother touched the pumpkin with her magic wand. When you white light something, you are calling on positive energy.
Think of all the times you worry about things. When you worry, you are actually focusing on the negative energy of problems. And, you are tensing up. You are stressing yourself. When you white light something, you are infusing positive energy. You are bringing your attention and your intention toward a positive outcome.
Just this morning, I was worrying about someone when it dawned on me that I should apply my own advice and white light the person. Not two hours later, I received a call saying that the situation had been resolved in exactly the way I had hoped. Only, for the past several weeks, I had been worrying...sending out worry energy. Interestingly, the person first asked me if I had white lit him and I delightedly told him of my epiphany. Is this a coincidence? Some would say so. Only it happens so frequently that I cannot ascribe it to random occurrence. I urge others to use white light. Anyone can do it. We are all very powerful. Go wait on line somewhere and notice how stressed people look. Then, pick out the one who looks particularly grouchy. Mentally ask the universe to surround the person in white light. You won't be speaking out loud; you just imagine the white light all around the person. Usually, within about 30 seconds, you will notice a change in the person's demeanor. Their facial features will have relaxed. Try it. Play with white light. And feel yourself lightening up.
One of my favorite pasttimes is solving jigsaw puzzles. I love the feel of the pieces and the shapes. I only like 500 - 750 piece puzzles with intense, vivid colors. I begin by finding the edge pieces so that the rest of the puzzle will find a context in which to fit.Over time I have discovered that there are several therapeutic levels to my puzzling. I find that if I am stressed, my anxiety abates as I do the puzzle. I am able to sort through current problems and concerns. And, if I am grieving putting together a puzzle is especially helpful. I suppose it is something about being able to put together something that is broken, to bring order back from chaos. When our family cat died years ago, I found that assembling cat puzzles was very comforting. There was something wonderful about finding the puzzle cats' faces, tails, and fur that helped soothe me for a time. Then, after 9/11, I found some comfort in completing puzzles of New York City that contained the World Trade Center. This was much more satisfying than merely seeing pictures of my world intact. As I fitted the pieces of the Twin Towers together, I felt I was mending something deep within my psyche.Recently, I attribute an even greater value to my puzzle activities. About three months ago, my mother died. She was a very active woman who, in her early nineties, was still working full time as an attorney. She was still driving from her home in Manhattan to her country home in Connecticut and entertaining friends, attending opera at Lincoln Center and walking home alone at night. Suddenly, she had a stroke and was gone within four days. The shock of all this affected my thought process. I would start doing something and then forget to finish. I'd lose a book and then discover it had been right in front of my eyes. I couldn't seem to find my place in the world and was only really focused when I was working in my office with clients. I became very busy with the paperwork of death and had little time for anything else. Puzzles I had purchased just before Mother's stroke remained in their boxes. I had no interest in them. But then, about three days ago, I decided to clear some space on my desk and attempt a new puzzle. And, the funniest thing has happened. As I search for the pieces, my mind is synthesizing everything else again. I have begun to feel like myself once more. I am not as scattered and my focus has improved. The colors of my world are more vivid. This goes beyond my conscious awareness; it is as if the pieces of my mind are again fitting together.
I hold the belief that consciousness survives death, that there is a spirit world where we go when we die and a continuation of "life" in another dimension.
What if dying is like moving to a new place? I remember that when I relocated to Florida from New York many decades ago, I felt very attached to my New York friends and didn't want to leave them. I knew I'd miss the day to day existence of my New York life. There were farewell parties and long good-byes. And yet, as I began to plan for my new home in Florida I began to feel a pull toward all that I would experience there.
Those who watched me go were sad and some truly wanted me to stay in New York.
There are others who also believe that consciousness survives death and that their loved ones on the other side can communicate with them. Only, those who are still here on the earth plane long for more communication with those who have left and gone on. And, so it occurred to me today that even though the loving connection between souls continues, the souls who have left become involved in their new "lives". They don't just watch us and wait for us to "call".
When I moved to Florida, and began meeting new people and getting involved in new activities, I didn't forget my dear New York friends. However, I had less need to contact them on a daily basis. I knew that I could speak with them or write letters (this was years before cell phones, emails and such) and that every time we spoke or saw each other on my visits to New York, we could connect just as closely as we ever had.
Our love connections transcended all that transpired over the years and we never lost contact; They moved on with their lives and I moved on with mine. Yet, I can speak with each one and it feels as if no time has passed.
And, that is what I believe happens with death. Our loved ones go on to new adventures, new learnings as their souls continue to evolve. And, when one day we join them, it is as if they never left.