From Judith Orloff's book The Ecstasy of Surrender.
MAKING PEACE WITH DEATH AND THE AFTERLIFE DEATH IS THE ULTIMATE SURRENDER. EACH ONE OF US, INCLUDING members of the medical profession, knows that this is an appointment we all must keep. But from my intuitive perspective, it’s also a daring expansion of ourselves that we are destined for— the biggest spiritual happening of our lives. I want to quell any fears that you might have and show you that there is nothing to be afraid of. You’re not losing power; you’re gaining it. Death has gotten a bad rap in Western medicine and culture. The transition itself is endowed with an aura of unnecessarily high drama. When the Dalai Lama was asked about his own death he shrugged and laughed, calling it just a “change of clothing.” Imagine feeling so relaxed about death! That’s the peace and drama- free acceptance you too can know when you surrender. Everything in this book has led up to the final letting go. Practicing surrender in various aspects of your life, from finances to sex to aging, prepares you for the leap of surrendering to the beyond. Whether you’re forty or ninety, accepting death is necessary for your serenity now and helps you live more fully. Research indicates that the top regrets of dying people include “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard,” “I wish I’d had the courage to be true to myself, not just do what others expected of me,” and “I wish I’d let myself be happier.” Why not set those priorities now and lead a truly meaningful life? Making peace with death allows you to live more fully and to achieve a mindful closure with your life when the time comes to go. With this intention, we’ll explore: What does surrendering to death mean to you? What can you gain? Do you stop existing? What does death really feel like? Is the afterlife real? How can we heal our collective death phobia? It’s natural to feel afraid or confused about death. Truth is, the passage itself requires both improvisation and trust. It’s the mother of all exercises in humility in which you must surrender your ego and let go of control. Even so, from this, our current world, I’ll describe how you can get a reassuring intuitive sense of what happens next, how safe and insanely beautiful it is. From the standpoint of surrender, what is death? First, you surrender physically. We do not possess our bodies. They’re simply on loan to us for a short while. Science defines physical death as cessation of our biological functions, including blood circulation via the heart and breathing (cardiac death) and brain activity (brain death). At the onset of death, we lose consciousness in a few seconds. Our brain waves flatline on the EEG in about forty seconds though the brainstem may still register impulses for a few minutes. Like many of my patients, you might understandably wonder, “Is death painful?” Don’t worry. As a physician, I can assure you: the answer is no. Since the brain mediates pain and the brain has stopped functioning, you are free of any discomfort. Second, at death, you spiritually surrender to a force larger than yourself. There’s no bad news here, only an opening and freedom from constriction. You don’t have to “do” anything, just relax and let go. What this larger force actually is will become evident as you pass over. Anticipate all you like, but you can’t completely know what lies beyond: it’s a big surprise party just for you. The Tibetan Booh of the Dead calls the revelation of death “seeing the primary clear light.” The brain is a filter that dumbs down consciousness. When you die your consciousness is liberated to a higher level. You are unfettered by the confines of your body and suffering lifts in ways you can’t even imagine. During my medical training at the UCLA/Wadsworth Veterans’ Hospital hospice, I had the great good fortune to be at many deathbeds observing the beauty of this final release, especially when patients had endured terrible illnesses. Immediately prior to death, as a patient’s body wound down and could no longer contain the person, there was no pain. Then an extraordinary letting go occurred, followed by a sense of peace, even ecstasy. It’s often difficult for us on this busy, pain- intense planet to imagine that surrendering to such ecstasy is our spirit’s legacy, the place where we came from and to which we’ll eventually return. But it is. Death is not the enemy, nor is it alien or sinister. Instead, I’d like you to consider it a teacher and healer. Here’s why. Fundamentally, death is a creative energy that impels both destructive and constructive change. Throughout life we experience this energy: the death of a relationship allows us to find something better; we outgrow a negative part of ourselves and become freer; the loss of a loved one or animal companion sparks both grief and growth. In French, an orgasm is called le petit mort or “the little death,” a surrender that gives you bliss. Sleep is similar to death: we temporarily surrender the linear mind and ego until we awaken the next day. And there’s nature’s seasonal death/rebirth cycles for us to contemplate: the wonder of autumn, winter, spring, and summer. But to me, death’s most impressive creative show is catalyzing our transition from matter to spirit. Death is energy in motion. It is not tame. You can’t control it. Turning back is not an option. You can’t pull away from this edge. You must go over it. Let me help you overcome fear so you’ll surrender more comfortably to this transition and not worry so much about it. DEATH AS TEACHER AND HEALER: SURRENDER YOUR FEARS AND DEATH PHOBIA I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to be there when it happens . WOODY ALLEN Why is the subject of death so charged, our fears so vast? How can we console ourselves and heal our collective death phobia? I laughed out loud when reading surveys citing that the only thing people fear more than death is public speaking! I can understand death’s number two ranking. In front of an audience, you’re figuratively naked and suddenly, inescapably up against worries such as “Can I speak? What will others think of me? Who am I really? What do I stand for?” Death demands the same self- scrutiny though from a day- to- day perspective it seems more remote. During my medical training it was sadly evident how strong the death phobia was among physicians and other health care professionals. Death was coldly referred to as “crashing,” “coding,” or “expiring”: no light or sacredness in those words. Terminal patients were often left alone, abandoned in hospital rooms at the end of long dismal hallways with few visits from medical personnel except for angel nursing staff checking vital signs. Or else the dying were spoken to in such technical, sterile language that it was horribly depersonalizing and downright insulting to them. Can you imagine being addressed in this sort of intellectual psychobabble— simply a distancing defense against fear— at this most critical moment? Thank God for loving relatives and friends who sit with their transitioning beloveds, not forsaking them in harrowing circumstances, though hurting and grieving themselves. Frequently, doctors view death as a failure rather than seeing their jobs as showering light and joy on the dying during their sacred passage. Instead, valiant hospice workers guide patients and their families through this complicated period. To the detriment of patients, physicians frequently haven’t made peace with their own deaths, nor do they see themselves as shepherds for a patient’s final surrender in a spiritual journey. So they project their fears onto the terminally ill who need love and support more than anyone else as they prepare to transition. I don’t think I’m being too harsh when I say this is an unwitting form of abuse of the dying. What about death most terrifies us? What is it that makes us shrink into our smallest unsurrendered selves? Since you can’t control it or know exactly what will happen, this alarms the part of us that fears change, legitimately craves reassurance, and wants bulletproof answers. This unknown can turn death into the perfect tabula rasa on which to project our fears of the boogieman. But surrendering to death necessitates rolling with some uncertainty. At a recent intuition workshop I conducted at the UCLA Mindfulness Research Center, a woman asked me with fierce immediacy, “Are you afraid of death?” I had to pause. The best answer I could give, the only one that felt authentic to offer was, “Not at the moment.” At this point, I still don’t think I’ll be afraid when the time comes because of how magnificent the other side has felt in my intuitions and dreams since childhood. I have encountered the eternal and I don’t fear it. Still, you never know. I could very well cling to my last moments and last breath as tenaciously as others have. In fact, I watched my mother, herself a physician, who had cancer and was clearly in her final days, drag my father to the Armani store in Beverly Hills to buy yet another designer outfit for her wardrobe. Mother was stubborn and was making it clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with dying. I understand how painful it was for her, as it is for many of us, to let go. But, to make peace with death, it behooves us to address and surrender fear. In order to leave the fear zone, you must examine honestly and compassionately what you’re so afraid of. There’s no point denying fears. They don’t go anywhere. Fears just lurk within, handicapping your heart, your intuition, and your ability to feel safe letting go in all areas. What are your worst fears? Let’s get down to it. Here are some common ones. Physical pain Loneliness Loss of power and control Being alone and lost Lack of choice Abandonment Unfinished business Depression Missed opportunities Disorientation Hell Estrangement from people we love The devil There’s no God Purgatory Separation from the earth Being stuck in limbo Being judged Annihilation of everything about yourself Punishment One fear that I had a difficult time surrendering was what would happen to my body after I died. I felt extremely attached to my body, this particular package of self I’ve been given in this particular lifetime. It felt so sad to let go of my books, my writing, the ocean, the trees, my friends, my loves, my struggles, my joys. And the thought of degenerating in some coffin with worms eating me or being cremated felt horrifying. Not to mention the waste: all of those facials, the endless hours in the gym, the time spent with hair stylists, the chiropractic adjustments— all my efforts to stay healthy, beautiful, and fit ended in this! Clearly, I was working myself into quite a state. So I called my friend Rabbi Don Singer who is also a Zen roshi . He just laughed and said he thought the intensity with which I was grappling with this dilemma was fabulous. He told me, “The body knows what to do when the time comes. Just trust it.” This felt so intuitively right, I immediately relaxed. Processing the fears of my body’s post- death fate let me freshly appreciate how much I adore this body and the rest of me right now. As long as I’m “me” in this form, I intend to enjoy every moment of my physicality. Plus, I realized that after I’m dead, I won’t care about physically degenerating. I’ll be on to new endeavors. My Daoist teacher says about the other side, “The work continues.” All this helped me surrender the fear. For me, releasing my fear of death, or anything else, is a process. It’s not as simple as changing my thinking, though that’s part of it. Sometimes I’m a hard case to convince. “Experts” offer a multitude of good solutions for releasing fear which for me are impossible to execute without intuitive confirmation. To know a solution is valid, I must feel waves of goose bumps propelling chills from head to toe, my gut saying yes, my inner guidance relaying, “You’ve found a secret! Trust it.” In your life, train yourself to be mindful of your intuitions too. Personally, these are the stars I choose to follow, and so may you. How can you surrender your fears of death and realize that we are all eternal beings? First, examine the attitudes you were raised with. Were your parents afraid or in denial? Did they impart that to you consciously or unconsciously? As a child, I remember a series of sweet goldfish ominously floating belly up at the top of the tank. My well- intentioned mother, without a hint of a eulogy, would abruptly flush them down the toilet (which to me was shocking, considering what else went down those pipes). She’d sympathetically say, “Don’t be sad. We’ll get you another one.” Actually, I was really sad— each time— and never felt that goldfish or any other creatures were so easily replaceable. I wish Mother would’ve taught me more about how natural death and the sadness of loss are. But, like many caring parents, she just wanted me to be happy and to spare me upset. Plus, as I’ve conveyed, she wasn’t that keen on facing death herself. So I was left hanging, never fully able to process the loss or to resolve, “What really happened to my goldfish? Where is it? Did it go to heaven or somewhere else?” For all of us, it’s useful to track our early reactions to death. What was your first exposure to it? Did a relative die? An animal companion? Did you see a gull decaying on the beach? Did you witness someone killed in a car accident? Do you remember your emotions? Were you alarmed? Revolted? Confused? Shocked? Inconsolable? Did you share your feelings and get a satisfying explanation? Or did you hold your feelings in or fail to get a useful response? Identifying the source of fears and misconceptions makes it easier to substitute the positive attitudes I’ll share. ARE THERE FATES WORSE THAN DEATH? REPROGRAM YOUR FEARS I’ve seen even the coolest people lose their cool around the subject of death. Keeping a balanced perspective helps you stay centered and out of nervous drama. I agree with Father Greg Boyle, fearless leader of Homeboy Industries, a rehabilitation program for Los Angeles gang members, who advises kids, “There are fates worse than death. For instance, being unloved or having your head jammed in the toilet by your violent psychotic mother.” When I had the honor of visiting Homeboy Industries in the barrio, Father Greg told me, “During gang wars, many kids don’t fear death. They fear the horrors of their lives. Death would be a sign of honor.” Consider: are there fates worse than death for you? Looking at things this way will lend a more realistic perspective when you are conquering your fears. To reprogram fear, a key intellectual surrender is for you to open your mind to the notion that consciousness isn’t limited to time and space . We are not simply brain- based beings. Think larger. Our consciousness is so much more resilient and multifaceted than the limitations your linear mind can invent. This applies to your deceased aunt Pearl, your cat Cupcake, and all life forms that have passed over. Consciousness is energy; it survives. In this chapter, I’ll offer research on near- death experiences (NDEs) revealing that consciousness is “nonlocal,” existing outside the brain and body, continuing past death into exciting phases of soul growth. Also you can start reprogramming your fears by considering the following concepts. Concept 1. The Spiritual Revelation of Observing a Dead Body Witnessing the absence of the soul can accentuate what your soul is. The soul animates the body making it luminous and engaged. When the soul is gone, the body looks vacant and lightless. Witnessing this striking difference lets you grasp that you’re more than your physical self. That’s why I suggest to patients and to you that you view a dead body. I realize the mere mention of one triggers fear and loathing. We’re not supposed to look. We’re not supposed to touch. It’s creepy and disgusting. When you can change this perspective, surprising insights will confirm the enduring brilliance of your spirit. Therefore, if you are present to witness someone’s death and also have time to stay with the body, consider not looking away or leaving. Be specific. Notice the skin, the eyes, the face. How do your impressions compare with when the person was living? Does the person look odd? Cold? Distorted? Rubbery? Inert? Remote? Peaceful? More beautiful? In what way? Try to remain intuitively unguarded. It’s natural to be put off. But see if you can go further. What else can you sense? Notice any intuitive flashes, images, or knowings you may have. Place the palm of your hand a few inches over the body. Can you sense its energy? Or is it gone? Touch the skin. What do you feel? There’s wisdom in the experience. Alternatives include visiting museum exhibits on human anatomy such as Bodies: The Exhibition (which is also on the Internet), going to a wax museum (which has a less authentic but similar effect), and looking at anatomy books. Concept 2. Cultivating Faith To overcome fear, our world’s diverse spiritual traditions offer much- needed solace. For instance, Buddhists believe in the liberation of reaching nirvana as you heal past the realm of karma and your spirit evolves. I smiled when one Buddhist friend cheerfully said, “Since we’ve probably had thousands of incarnations, we already know how to die, so we can relax!” Daoists believe that all paths lead to one divinity, the Tao. Then there are the differing Christian and Islamic conceptions of heaven. In the Sufi tradition, the mystical poet Rumi’s death day is described as his “marriage day” when he ecstatically joined with the divine. Faith in the hereafter is a potent tool to overcome fear. However, faith is intensely personal. When you’re up at three in the morning with a head full of fear, just staring at the ceiling, faith must be authentic, not just some theory or politically correct idea. Concept 3. Death Is a Parallel Universe: Leaving the Fear Zone What matters more than anything I can say to comfort you about death is your own experience of what lies beyond. I can tell you that all fears are merely projections of your insecurities. I can assure you that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Still, this won’t suffice if you’re not intuitively convinced yourself. It’s important to understand: Death is simply a parallel universe that exists simultaneously with our lives. It is not the end . The membrane between us and the other side is thinner than you think. You can access death through intuition. With that in mind, I offer the following meditation journey for you to experience death and the afterlife firsthand. A MEDITATION JOURNEY INTO DEATH The shamanic tradition uses the potent inner process of journeying to explore different levels of consciousness and obtain insights that will help us better understand ourselves and the universe. Here we’ll use it to explore death. 1. Relax and let go . Sit upright in a comfortable position. Take a few slow, deep breaths. Feel the warmth of your breath as air passes through your lungs and out your mouth. Be completely present. For a few minutes, inhale and then exhale. Go slow. Soften your shoulders, chest, belly, and legs. No guarding or holding back. Then focus on what you love the most. It could be a person, an animal, a deep blue lake, or the divine. Whatever you select, let beauty and love surround you. Allow your heart to open until you feel centered and secure. 2. Invite death in . When you’re at ease, get ready to silently invite death in. If old ideas or fears intrude, let them pass by like clouds in the sky. Visualize death as a presence, a force. At a safe pace, ask death to come closer. Go as slow as you like while exploring this realm of energy, sounds, visions, and sensations. First visualize death as being ten feet away from you. What do you sense? Colors? Fragrances? Sounds? Do tears come? Do you feel relief? Let yourself surrender to it all. Then, gradually shorten the distance. Five feet … three feet … two feet … a foot. No hurry. At each stage, ease into it. How do your perceptions change? What else are you learning? Notice any spontaneous visions or insights but don’t cling to them. Concentrate on your breath. Rely on your intuition to signal when to proceed. 3. Surrender to death . Gently, slowly, allow yourself to merge with death. Become one with it. Dissolve into spirit as awareness of your body slips away. Pure energy. All heaviness recedes. You grow lighter and lighter. Take a moment to orient yourself. How do you feel? Calm? At peace? Confused? Exhilarated? What are you observing? Is there silence? Music? Light? Does anyone or anything look familiar? Do you feel relief? Welcomed home? Notice it all. Cling to nothing. Breathe into the sweetness, unbound by physical constraints. Breathe out all pain and concerns. Breathe in the ecstasy of spirit. Breathe in the boundlessness of love. No separation. No holding. Let death carry you. You are rising. You are glowing. You are floating like a feather in a never- ending sky! Stay with the experience until it feels complete. Remember what happened. In the future, you can come here again. 4. Return to your body . Gradually prepare yourself to return to your body. Clearly picture your physical self: your clothes, hair color and style, jewelry, makeup— the more details the better. Let gravity draw you back to your body, toward earth and the material world. Inwardly express gratitude for what you’ve been shown. Then solidly reconnect with your feet, legs, arms, hands, abdomen, chest, neck, and head, fully grounding yourself. Take as long as you need making the adjustment. If you feel scared or hesitant during this meditation, it’s fine to stop. Let what you’ve learned sink in. Later, when it feels right, go further. Some people prefer to practice this surrender meditation in stages. Check in with yourself. Honor your own pace. Journeying into death is possible and safe. Many people fear that if you try to explore death, you’ll die. Wrong. My Daoist teacher says, “When you can accept death, the path gets longer.” Your lifeline truly extends into eternity and becomes richer in the now. Sometimes after an exhausting workday, I purposely meditate on death to replenish myself. I also do this if I’m creatively blocked. It feels like I’m reattuning to an ancient, eternal drumbeat. Bursts of new ideas can break through. Death is a muse that inspires. Thus, it makes sense that we’d benefit from the same creative boost when we finally transition out of the body. There is no harm involved at all. I offer this meditation to patients, terminal or not, to defuse fear. Often when one nears death, there’s an urgency to glimpse what’s next. In such cases, I integrate this meditation into psychotherapy. As a physician, I want to support patients through this transition. Even if someone is in perfect health, experiencing death through meditation can be life- changing. It’s not only a look forward but a portal through time to a holy place where we partake of divinity. Afterward, we resume our lives refreshed. SPIRITUALLY SURRENDER TO DEATH AND GRIEF: AN EXERCISE IN HUMILITY AND FREEDOM Ultimately, the ecstasy of spiritual surrender means letting go to grief, death, and the beyond. It requires humility and the renunciation of control. This applies whether we are losing a loved one or are ready to pass over ourselves. Many patients have asked, “Judith, what happens when we die?” My response, which took years to have the courage to stand behind with my whole being, is, “We don’t die.” As a physician I’ve spent decades with the troubled, the tormented, the very ill, and the dying. All this is at the heart of my medical practice and what I’ve learned about our lives. I’ve also devoted decades to spiritual growth and intuition, including studying Daoism. So what I tell patients about dying is based on a profound commitment to what I’ve worked so hard to recognize and make sense of. Therefore my conviction is: Yes, you surrender the transient temple of the body but your soul, which is way larger than your ego, endures. Still, your soul’s journey requires change: change of location, change of characters, change of form. As is said in Ecclesiastes, “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Though naturally you grieve the loss of your current life and loves, change is definite. My Daoist teacher also says, “Heaven is not a dead- end road. Work is longer than life.” Nothing lasts forever. Eventually our time will run out. Spiritually surrendering to death means risking total annihilation in service of integration. But don’t worry: the point of shedding your physical identity is for your soul to grow, not to destroy you. You awaken again and again in different forms, an infinite process of becoming more whole. The life- death cycles are designed to help you evolve into the most beguiling light you can imagine. A compelling reason I— and I hope you— avidly practice this book’s surrender techniques is to be as prepared as possible for the spiritual surrender of death. Do you realize how hugely important that is? When you pass over, you want to transition smoothly, not be drawn back by lingering earthly attachments. The Tibetan Buddhists believe that there are different bardos , intermediate states between life and death. Ideally you see the pure light and ascend to higher levels of consciousness. Problems occur when unresolved desires, obsessions, and resentments about money, possessions, or people (including your ex- spouse or ex- boss who may seem to lack any redeeming qualities) prevent you from moving on. These nasty attachments have an intense magnetism that can keep your soul stranded in bardo states of suffering. For some, the earth itself is considered a bardo of obsession with the hellish emotional pain that comes from clinging to whatever preoccupations you’re gripped with. We’re attached (in Sanskrit, samudhaya ) and so we suffer ( duhkha ). This is the Tibetan Buddhist view. As a physician, working with so many people who have suffered in so many different ways, I know all too well the cost of obsessions, the power they have to pull you into a personal hell. Surrendering Your Obsessions: Beware of Hungry Ghosts The Buddhist Wheel of Life, depicting the Six Realms of Existence, includes the hungry ghosts or pretans located between the nonhuman animal kingdom and what is called the hell realms of fire and ice. Buddhists warn us about hungry ghosts: insatiable, withered creatures suffering the torments of greed, abuse of power, and other unwholesome obsessions. Their hunger can never be fulfilled, no matter how much they consume. Hungry ghosts aren’t just in other realms. They’re in us and in other people too. Since I’m no stranger to experiencing the hell of obsessions, I am dedicated to freeing myself from this emotional trap, a humbling endeavor that has brought me to my knees more than once. How can we heal the hungry ghost within? First, with humility. The starving parts of us can have incredible power. They command respect. Second we must honestly, compassionately begin to soothe these places in ourselves. Compassion for our own emptiness feeds our starvation and supports spiritual fulfillment by opening our hearts. Buddhist scholar Robert Thurman told me about a scene he translated from a sutra, a sacred verse. He said, “A bodhisattva of compassion goes to hell and floods it with tears from his thousand eyes to put out the red- hot broiling fires. His compassion beams those suffering beings out of hell.” Our compassion can save us and others too. Spiritual surrender means accepting that obsessive desires are bottomless pits of need that can’t bring lasting happiness. Whether you’re a crack addict or are hooked on pleasure or money (I love Charles Dickens’s image of Scrooge’s ghost chained to his money box), the ongoing spiritual practice of surrendering these attachments can free you now and in the hereafter. A MANTRA TO SPIRITUALLY SURRENDER YOUR OBSESSIONS To release yourself and all hungry ghosts from the suffering of obsessive desires, recite this compassion prayer: “Om mani padme hum.” Use this mantra as many times as needed. In addition, those who are dying can repeat it to gain a sense of peace as they go. In the Buddhist tradition, it is said that one syllable from each word has the power to send nourishing light rays to whatever hell you’re in and draw you out of it. The Spiritual Surrender of Grief Grief is spiritual surrender in action, a deep sorrow and suffering catalyzed by loss and death. You courageously let go of attachments when someone or something you love— a relationship, a job, your health— has been taken away, or when physical death occurs. Love is a high- stakes surrender. When you love profoundly you risk everything, including the pain of loss and grief. No half measures would ever dignify the heart. As one patient with a dedicated spiritual practice told me, “I’ve heard all the theories and the how- tos about death, but there is still a deep sadness about having to let go. That’s the price of love.” While grieving, I urge you to stay open and brave. No way around it: grieving is rough. I know how brutally unfair losing someone can feel. I understand why some of my patients want to shut down and guard themselves against the searing agony of loss instead of opening to it in service of their healing. Still, squashing the potent energy of grief leads to only depression, physical pain, and other symptoms, plus an eerie dissociation from yourself and the rest of life. Unlike the slogging inertia of depression, grief has a healing trajectory that seeks to resolve itself. I tell my patients and you: to heal, you must surrender to grief since it ultimately carries you forward with a more open heart. Flowing with Waves of Grief: Mourning and Surviving Loss I’m attracted to the depth in people. Grief is a reaction to loss that can deepen you. It is strangely yet wondrously liberating if you can hang in there during the intensity. To me, grief is a form of passion . Try to flow with it rather than attempting to change it, resist it, or get it over with. As I’ve learned from experiencing the death of both my beloved parents, grief comes in waves. You’re suffering, then you’re better, then a wave of sorrow rises up and overcomes you again. You can’t control or hurry grief. The pain lessens with time but it can well up over the years spontaneously, especially on anniversaries of deaths. Whenever grief arises, it is vital to allow yourself to cry. Surrendering to the tears of grief, not holding them back, cleanses your soul and hastens healing. In psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler- Ross’s classic book On Death and Dying , she presents common stages of grief. Denial: “This can’t be happening.” Anger: “I’m furious about the loss.” Bargaining: “I promise I’ll be kinder if you just bring him or her back.” Depression: “How can I go on? Why try? Life is just unfair.” Acceptance: “I’m crushed but I’m coming to terms with the loss.” We all have a different time frame for these stages. And they may occur in different order. You surrender when you allow your emotions to flow spontaneously as you mourn fully. Mourning is a healthy expression of grief. The rituals of mourning you prefer are shaped by your culture, religion, and beliefs. Specifically, how can you mourn? Visiting the gravesite of a loved one on special dates may be comforting. Or keeping a photo album to remember the person lets you celebrate him or her. In Judaism, family and friends sit shiva for about a week. They gather in prayer, bring food, and reminisce to provide survivors loving support. Mourners know they are not alone during this difficult transition. The Irish wake is a time of rejoicing in a person’s life, exchanging stories about the loved one, singing traditional songs and laments, drinking and sharing meals. In other cultures, there are varied and sometimes dramatic expressions of mourning, including tearing at one’s clothes. Do what is most comforting. How you mourn is personal. There is no “correct” way to do it. Like many of us, you might find that a heartwrenching aspect of grieving is releasing your attachment to a loved one’s physical form— how the person looked, smelled, sounded, or felt in your arms. Even when you have strong spiritual faith, this can be a difficult, lonely journey. The harsh fact is, the person can no longer relate to you in ways you’ve depended on. You can’t talk to him or her on the phone, give or get a hug, or make love with this person— all of which is inconceivably sad to confront. Still, to achieve closure, you must accept this new reality and treasure your memories. As you adjust more to letting the physical version of the person go, your spiritual surrender then becomes opening your mind to different ways of contacting your loved one through intuition, meditation, and dreams. In the next section, I’ll show you how to feel your loved ones nearby during quiet moments. Seeking loving support will help you heal and surrender your pain. Even if your grief feels private, being stoic or isolating yourself can make you depressed. Talk to supportive friends, family, a therapist, or a spiritual guide. Journal about your feelings. Don’t censor them. Rail at the universe. Get angry at God. Do whatever you need to do. Bereavement support is a great benefit that hospice care offers survivors. The period after losing someone can be a roller coaster of emotions, a trying adjustment that includes financial pressures and helping children cope. Bereavement counseling provides tender loving care and guidance to help you acclimate to this new reality. Spiritually surrendering to grief and releasing your physical attachment to others is eased by cultivating humility for the elegance of the birth- death cycle. Even in the midst of terrible melancholy, it’s possible to find awe in the alchemy of change— an emotional paradox I experienced when my mother was in a coma and nearing death in the hospital. Sitting at a mother’s deathbed is about as pure as pure gets. Staying there for endless hours, I became entranced by the beauty of her body, her lovely hands, her soft pink belly rising and falling with each labored breath. Looking at her, I saw the horizontal caesarian section scar above her womb and saw myself as a newborn being raised out of her into the world. Circles get completed. Parent- child roles become reversed. Just as Mother had ushered me into this life, I had the honor of ushering her out. There could be no consolation for losing her, but the roles we fulfilled for each other in our time together felt satisfying, rich, and complete. Nature never promises us that anything in the material world will last forever. The big wheel keeps on turning. What nature does give us is the blessings of cycles, growth, and the mystery of change. Certainly, losing a loved one who’s ninety and has led a full life can feel more organic than grieving for a younger person or child who dies suddenly from an accident, violence, or a virulent cancer. But as much as you are torn apart by loss, the grieving process is necessary if you want to heal. Offering no resistance, even during the harrowing surrender of loss, can impart unsuspected ecstasy in ways that may surprise you and broaden your experience of the world. The Sacred Deathbed: Honor Love’s Final Moments Grieving isn’t just for survivors. It’s also a spiritually important surrender for those who are dying. When working with terminal patients, I support them in gently letting go of their bodies, this life, and everything they have known and loved. I help them see that they are shedding an old identity in favor of another luminous one. Granted, this is a tall order, but it can be mindfully accomplished if the transitioning person is open. How? I guide patients to find faith in a higher power. I meditate with them so they can glimpse the light on the other side. I hold their hand as they grieve or as they are transitioning, sending energy, hope, and faith so they can be peaceful, even smiling when they go. As patients get closer to death, their interest in life often slips away as if preparing their attention for what comes next. When the dying can grieve well during the very final losses they face, less baggage drags them down as they start to fly. Still, not everyone who’s dying wants to address these emotions or any of the surrenders to grief I mentioned. Some patients aren’t afraid to go so a lot of words aren’t necessary to prepare them. Once when I worked in a hospice there was a Holocaust survivor who had lung cancer. Right before she died she sat up in bed, said the shema (a sacred prayer pledging her love to God) in Hebrew, lay back down, closed her eyes, and passed over. She knew her moment had come and she made a stunningly graceful exit. I am aware that people experience grief and death differently, some more quietly than others. You don’t want to badger your father or mother to express his or her emotions or to “find God” if it’s not his or her style. One of my patients, a sports fanatic, just wanted to watch a Lakers game in his final moments and his wife respected his wishes. However, I’ve watched some well- meaning, caring people impose ridiculous expectations on their dying relatives. This isn’t useful! Though spiritual awareness can greatly enhance the ease of transitioning— and I always discuss this with a terminal patient— how or if people find a higher power is their business. Soon enough they will find out. Be clear: If someone is dying, this is their moment. It’s his or her deathbed. Not yours. You must defer to the person’s every need and wish . Your job is to help your loved one be happy and leave in peace. As Aldous Huxley wrote, “Lightly, my darling, lightly. Even when it comes to dying. Nothing ponderous, or portentous … Just the fact of dying and the fact of the Clear Light.” Despite how people choose to cope outwardly, remember that grief is built into the dying process. In the end, we all know we have to let go. Giving people some credit is a sign of respect. Also realize that the timing of when you or a loved one dies naturally is out of your control. Years ago, when my soul mate Labrador retriever Pipe was dying (she waited until I graduated from medical school), I called my mother from the animal hospital. She rushed across town to meet me. Arriving, she saw me sitting in the kennel crying, Pipe in my arms. “You must say goodbye and leave,” she tenderly advised. “Pipe will fight to stay alive if you stay.” I knew Mother was right. My love was holding Pipe here. Agonizing as it was, my mother and I went home. My sweet dog died soon afterward. At a deathbed, try to surrender expectations about when a passage will occur. My Daoist teacher believes the time of our death is predestined. He says, “You can run from death but if you’re meant to go, even if you travel to the ends of the earth, an airplane will still fall on you there.” The same sense of fatedness is true of who is present when we die. I’ve heard of a few psychotherapists who’ve died suddenly in mid- session with a patient— quite a challenge for the patient to process I am sure! Or perhaps you wanted to be with your sister at her passing and you were there, adoring her completely. What you desired was meant to be. But sometimes spirit has another plan and this is not possible. Frequently I’ve seen how spouses leave the deathbed for just a few minutes— to grab a cup of coffee, to go to the bathroom— and suddenly their beloved passes over. If this happens to you, you didn’t do anything wrong! You must trust the organic timing of someone’s passage. Showing up for a person in such a profound way is a holy testament to the strength of your heart and devotion. A sacred deathbed is a highly intimate experience. It must be cocooned in a bubble of loving protection for the transitioning person and for attending friends and family. Regrettably, not everyone honors its sanctity. Recently, I was shocked to receive a call from a reality TV show producer asking, “Can you recommend dying patients who would allow us to film their last moments in order to educate millions of viewers about death?” Whether the producer’s motives were altruistic or he was simply exploiting the dying for ratings, his claim that “the cameras won’t be intrusive” showed an audacious disrespect for the privacy of the deathbed. A camera crew that’s not intrusive? Come on. With as much tolerance as I could muster, I declined to participate in the show. I also explained the absurdity of a psychiatrist risking a terminal patient’s trust and the confidentiality of therapy by inquiring, “Would you like to be filmed as you die?” Though my response probably made little impact on the producer, I’m pleased to say I never heard of that reality show materializing on air. To make leaving this world feel a little safer and less haphazard, it’s freeing (not morbid) to visualize your perfect death and clarify your goals for the passage. Setting your intention brings clarity to the experience. For instance, shaman Hank Wesselman told me he wants “a clean getaway.” Dannion Brinkley, tireless advocate of dying veterans, said, “I want a death where I don’t come back!” I agree with both of these men about preferring (if the choice were mine) to move on from this suffering planet without incarnating here again. As much as I am crazy about being alive, I am eager to experience places of even higher love. I’m also moved by the following responses from a mini- survey I took among other friends and patients when I asked them about their wishes about passing on (see this page ). One friend told me a charming account of her grandmother’s death. She said, “Grandma announced to everyone at ninety- five that she was having her hair done because she would be leaving overnight. My father called her the next morning and Grandma answered the phone, saying “Shit! I’m still here.” She died the next night after a full life with her sense of humor intact. WHAT IS YOUR PERFECT DEATH? 1. Knowing I haven’t left a big mess. 2. Quick and painless. 3. Watching the sun rise with my beloveds. 4. Dying in my sleep at the end of a three- hour massage (but not so great for the massage therapist!). 5. When I am old and fast asleep. 6. Having an orgasm. 7. Death by chocolate. 8. Quickly in the wee hours of the morn without anyone watching. 9. Fast— no lingering, dementia, pain, or drugs. 10. Holding my partner’s hand or him holding me. 11. Being utterly alive in an ecstatic moment of bliss. 12. In a magnificent fireball. As of today, my perfect death would be writing during the day, soaking in a hot bath, making love to my partner, then passing away in a dream— all the while staying right in there enjoying my last tastes of sensuality in everything. Natalie Goldberg, Buddhist teacher and writing guru, talks about “writing as a practice” in life and how one can also use writing as a practice into death. One last time, I’d like to write like a wild woman. Then I’d let my physical self go! When the time comes, we’ll see what actually transpires. But for now, my vision of death sounds to me like nirvana. To prepare for this surrender, contemplate your own priorities. See which scenario of death appeals to you. Addressing death with a lightness of being rather than dread is liberating. It also clarifies your place in the universe with a loving sense of realism. I encourage you to start this conversation about passing over with yourself and others in order to lessen your grief about departing someday. The next exercise will help you accept death as another part of life and allow you to spiritually surrender to the journey onward. IMAGINE YOUR PERFECT DEATH: SURRENDERING GRIEF, FEAR, AND TABOOS Ask yourself, “How would I like to pass over? Where would I be? Whom would or wouldn’t I want to be with? Or would I like to be alone? What is the ideal environment? Would I be awake and aware? Asleep? Would I like music? What scents would I prefer? What about the lighting? Would I want to go fast or more slowly?” Picture the details of what would be most perfect and comforting for you. Write these down in a journal so you document them. Be sure to inform loved ones of your wishes so they can be carried out. SURRENDER TO THE MYSTERY OF THE AFTERLIFE After you die, where do you go? Are there other dimensions? Does your identity survive? Can you be certain of the lights of eternity? How can you stop worrying and know that you’ll be fine? I’ll offer scientific and intuitive evidence that your consciousness survives in nonlocal realities beyond our local physical world. Since the word death has been ruined by too many scary connotations, I propose removing it from our vocabulary. It’s more useful to view death as simply a natural extension of nonlocal consciousness into more timeless realms. Our being isn’t forever limited to living in California, Kansas, or Paris or even in this body or on this planet. Think of it this way: at death, we are liberated from a small container to adventure in an infinite sky far beyond the world we know. Whether this is a new direction or simply a break before you reincarnate here to continue your soul work in a different body (as Buddhists and Kabbalists believe), feel the wonder and possibilities of it all. Don’t overthink it. Surrendering to the mystery of an afterlife comes down to trusting your mind, heart, and intuition. Scientific Evidence of the Survival of Consciousness: Near- Death Experience (NDE) Research With extraordinary new advances in cardiopulmonary resuscitation, which can revive patients after cardiac arrest (clinical death is reversible for up to a few hours), numerous survivors worldwide have given accounts of near- death experiences. In fact, a whopping 4.2 percent of Americans— more than thirteen million people— have reported having had an NDE! Who has them? Survivors of life- threatening crises such as a cardiac arrest on the operating table, stroke, shock from blood loss, and near- fatal drownings or car crashes. What is a near- death experience? This is when people who’ve crossed over the threshold of death have come back to report what they found. Their descriptions are compellingly similar. Often people see a beautiful white light, a tunnel, and deceased relatives and friends who meet them. They feel enormous love, even euphoria, safety, and a sense of coming home. They sometimes report feeling a strong draw to continue moving into the light. There’s often a sense of hyperreality: colors are crisper, sounds more resonant, emotions and memories more intense. Some are sent back to life, having been told, “It is not your time yet.” While having an NDE, people remember every detail of their lives; there is no amnesia. Additionally, many survivors report having dramatic out- of- body experiences where they peacefully hover over themselves, looking down from above. This is the common scenario. A patient goes into cardiac arrest and “codes” during surgery. The medical team rushes to give CPR. Meanwhile, the patient calmly surveys all this from many feet in the air, observing everything, overhearing conversations (later documented as accurate when the patient regains consciousness). Near- death researcher and physician Pim Von Lommel told me, “I recall one man who the ER nurse said was cyanotic [blue from lack of oxygen] but when revived remembered the nurse who had taken off his glasses and put them on the crash cart while he was ‘dead’ and floating outside his body. Apparently the nurse almost went into cardiac arrest herself upon hearing this!” Simultaneously, during an NDE, people experience a state of grace and insight. Often they go through what researchers call a “life review” where they see all they’ve experienced— things they regret and would’ve done differently and what they did with goodness and love. Afterward, some people develop newfound healing and intuitive abilities. The NDE is usually transformational, providing profound insights into survivors’ lives and priorities (such as expressing more love). Survivors see that love is the force that holds the world together and also connects us to the beyond. And, like Dannion Brinkley, who had an NDE when he was struck by lightning, they realize that there’s nothing to be afraid of. No wonder Dannion told me that he doesn’t want to reincarnate here after his life is over. Since NDE survivors have seen that they clearly still exist outside of their bodies, their fear of death disappears. That is so liberating. My friend Kheller had an NDE after a near- fatal motorcycle crash when he was living in Bali. He experienced the brilliant light and the feeling that he was being cocooned in love. He told me, “When I regained consciousness in a small primitive hospital, I felt content and complete. I thought I was dying but I wasn’t afraid. A small circle of loving friends who had been living in Bali too surrounded my bed and I thought about them: ‘You are my final moments. This is a perfect way to go.’ Though I am thankful I survived, the NDE changed me. I had gazed in amazement at what Einstein called ‘the moving beauty of the eternal.’ ” In a groundbreaking article published in the prestigious medical journal the Lancet , Pim Van Lommel argues that the NDE phenomenon is authentic— that it can’t be reduced to imagination, fear of death, hallucination, psychosis, drug effects, or oxygen deficiency, as some scientists contend. Most patients are permanently, positively changed by an NDE. Thus the current conventional medical view regarding consciousness and the brain must be expanded to more accurately understand what happens to these patients. As a physician, I’m interested in the commonalities of NDEs. During my intuition workshops, I experiment with replicating these findings. However, to avoid cueing the group, I don’t initially reveal my intention. Here’s what I do. In an exercise, I train the participants to intuitively read others simply by tuning in to a first name. I select the name and repeat it aloud. I then ask the group to tune in to whatever images, flashes, or gut feelings they sense from the name. Afterward, I provide feedback about the accuracy of their intuitions. I’m consistently fascinated by what happens when I repeat “Margaret,” a friend’s name. Each time people begin sharing impressions such as “I see bright white light,” “It feels like heaven,” “I am overwhelmed with love,” “I have a sense of weightlessness and euphoria,” and “Margaret was ill but she’s not sick anymore.” Some people even say, “I think she’s passed over.” In fact, my friend Margaret died years earlier at age eighty from a debilitating lung disease. You can imagine how powerful it is when the group discovers this— that, most likely, they were picking up intuitions from the other side, perhaps even heaven! My group’s descriptions are stunningly consistent with common NDEs. Tuning in like this— focusing on the name of someone who has passed over, then noting what you intuitively pick up— lets you make contact and get a sense of their well- being. What all of this suggests is that our consciousness, the thing that makes us who we are, doesn’t die just because we are pronounced dead. Max Planck, father of quantum mechanics, said, “I regard matter as derivative from consciousness.…” If he’s right— that matter (you and me) originally came from consciousness— it makes sense that when our bodies (matter) are gone, we will become pure consciousness again. I hope this helps to reassure you that you were fine before you came here and that you will be fine afterward. You’re just going through a metamorphosis that occurs with all sentient life. As part of your surrender to the possibility of an afterlife, I’d like you to contemplate that your consciousness is quite skilled at existing in nonlocal ways, independent of space and time. Let yourself absorb and contemplate this. Understanding the enormity of your spirit’s scope and the versatility of your consciousness will let you approach death less apprehensively. Communication After Death: Mediums, Ouija Boards, Visitations, and Dreams In the recent Time magazine cover story “Rethinking Heaven,” a Gallup poll revealed that 85 percent of all Americans believe in heaven. What is heaven? Is it real? Can we find it? In our discussion of afterlife communication, my desire isn’t to convince you of anything. Rather, I want to present information. Then you can intuitively decide for yourself. By now, you know I have a profound belief in spirit and in the sweetness of eternity that lies ahead for all of us. But truly, accepting this yourself is a very personal matter and depends, at least in part, on how much you’re willing to trust what you sense. It’s fine if you can’t totally surrender to the idea of an afterlife. It’s fine if you want to hold back a little or a lot on committing to conclusions. With this particular topic, the linear brain can go crazy trying to defend its limited material version of reality. Don’t force anything but be curious. Yes, there have been frauds and charlatans involved in afterlife communication who cause people to be wary but there is truth out there too. When you can let your mind open just a crack without cynicism or defensiveness then you’re inviting the mystery to work with you, to be a partner in your own awakening. From the beginning of history, humans have tried to contact the dead. It’s a primal urge to want to know what happens to loved ones and to ourselves when our time here is over, particularly as the passage nears. In Native American traditions, shamans fulfill this role as messengers between realms. In ancient Greece, people from all walks of life, including kings, consulted the oracle of Delphi, a trusted seer who provided guidance about everything from love to strategies of war. In the Old Testament, the Witch of Endor was said to have raised the prophet Samuel’s deceased spirit so that the Hebrew king Saul could consult his former mentor about a battle plan. And of course, Jesus had the gift of love strong enough to raise the dead, a depth of love I pray for. However, the practice of mediumship with séances didn’t become popular in the United States and Europe until the advent of spiritualism in the mid- nineteenth century. Mediums such as Helena Blavatsky and mediumship supporters such as Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes stories, helped give spiritualism credibility. Séances were even held in the White House and at royal palaces. Currently in the United Kingdom, mediums are plentiful and continue the spiritualism tradition. What is the medium’s role? Believers feel they are a clear channel conveying messages from the other side, a go- between who connects a departed individual’s spirit with those of us who are still here. In terms of nonlocal consciousness, mediums are thought to extend their awareness beyond linear time to access additional levels of information. Whether a medium is simply picking up intuitive data about loved ones or is actually communicating with them is an ongoing debate among consciousness researchers. However, from a therapeutic standpoint, the great potential value of mediums is that they can convey that the deceased loved one is fine and that there is nothing to worry about. This is a useful contribution to the grieving process that can help mourners find comfort and peaceful closure. Also, maybe for the first time, grasping that an afterlife is possible can feel incredibly reassuring to survivors. But is the medium simply telling you what you want to hear? Are these messages merely “wish fulfillments” as strict Freudians would claim? That’s where your intuition is key. In this area, no one else’s opinion matters. Most important, you must gauge the authenticity of the medium’s message by trusting your gut feelings, your deepest instincts, and how the experience resonates in your core. Over the years, I’ve had several productive sessions with mediums. In the United Kingdom, I saw a wonderfully prim and proper woman in her late sixties who relayed important truths about a late colleague whom I was conflicted about, as well as provided insight into current relationships that needed clarity. She also made me laugh when she told me, “You have more friends on the other side than you do here!” I knew exactly what she meant. I am blessed to have treasured friends but I’ve always sensed that I have an even larger cheering section out there. How did I know she wasn’t just fabricating something? If a person— a friend, a medium, anyone— says something to me, I can feel what intuitively rings true. Musician Quincy Jones told me about his own intuition: “I listen for the goose bumps!” I do too. I’ve reached the point where I trust my intuition. I surrender to it. Doing so has served me well for a long time. Because I have tremendous respect for the power of nonlocal communication with the other side, I urge you to be discerning in this area. I’ve seen some people get into trouble by “playing” with Ouija boards. This is not just a game. When two people put their hands on the pointer (which spells out the message) and call in spirits to give them messages, they have no idea who will answer, nor the quality of the advice they will get. I’ve had some patients get terrified by horribly wrong declarations the Ouija board has spelled out, such as “Your wife is betraying you” or “You will soon be very ill.” That’s why I advise staying away from Ouija boards and relying on your own intuition or a trusted intuitive advisor instead. Opening to Visitations and Dreams Have you ever had a dream about a departed loved one? An intriguing aspect of surrendering to nonlocal awareness and the possibility of an afterlife is being receptive to our loved ones reaching out to us in visitations and dreams. Just because our intimates aren’t communicating to us in the conventional fashion doesn’t mean they can’t do so in other ways. Again, your linear brain may find this outlandish but to your intuition there’s nothing supernatural about it. Once you get used to the concept, such communication can feel perfectly natural and even exciting. What is a visitation? It’s a sighting from the other side. Think of it as a visit from a friend like any other but the visitor is not quite like you or me. He or she is the same person you knew, only the pure- energy version. Practically speaking, for the purposes of interacting, it doesn’t matter whether these visitors are in their bodies or not. You are still able to connect in a tender though more limited way. A visitation can occur as a waking apparition or vision; as feeling a person’s presence; as a scent, a touch, a voice, a song; or in a dream. Though most of us aren’t accustomed to such intense overlaps with other realities, you don’t have to be afraid. Over my years of medical practice, many patients have shared comforting visitations they’ve had from deceased family, friends, and animal companions. Interestingly, these visitations happened whether or not my patients had previously believed in such things. Typically, in a visitation, loved ones appear in their prime. They’re not suffering any longer. Commonly, those who’ve passed on want to reassure you that they are all right. After the recent death of one patient’s husband, a proud former Marine Corps officer, she told me, “While I was washing dishes, Joe suddenly appeared out of the corner of my eye. He was in uniform and saluted me, smiling and glowing with health. It was very healing for me to see that he looked so marvelous.” Often visitations happen at the exact time of someone’s death. These can range from gentle and touching to highly dramatic. Here are some examples. At the moment a patient’s brother died, she was sitting in her living room and heard her brother’s guitar, which was leaning against the wall, suddenly strum a few chords from his favorite Willie Nelson song, “On the Road.” She was startled, naturally, but later when she learned the time of his death, she had to smile— the song was a perfect preamble to his path on the big road ahead. Another patient’s grandfather clock, a family heirloom, stopped at the very minute her grandfather died. Another smelled the scent of her best friend’s perfume. One patient was checking on her five- year- old daughter, who told her, “Grandma is here tickling me!” My patient asked, “Where, honey?” Her daughter pointed and then kept insisting she was right there by the bed. Yet another patient actually had lightning strike his home the instant his rambunctious mother- in- law died! When my aunt passed away, I felt her stroke my cheek as I was falling asleep. When an ex- boyfriend died, I felt him sweetly come to hold my hand. Similarly, over the centuries, numerous people on the edge of death— astronauts, polar explorers, pilots, divers— have seen loving presences that guided them to safety. This kind of visitation is called the “third- man factor.” For instance, Charles Lindbergh, in his historic transatlantic flight, described presences who were reassuring him and offering details about how to navigate to avoid danger. Then there is the striking account of a 9/11 survivor, a financier, who lay nearly unconscious in a smoke- filled stairwell, heard an invisible presence say, “Get up. You can do this,” and then felt the presence literally lift him so he could get out of danger. T. S. Eliot wrote in The Waste Land , “Who is the third who walks always beside you? / When I count, there are only you and I together. / But when I look ahead up the white road / There is always another one walking beside you.” It’s been postulated that the experience of being close to death can trigger an “angel switch” in the brain that puts us in a mystical state during an emergency. If only a few people had experienced the third- man factor, it might be dismissed as a stress- induced hallucination. But aided by these visitations, all have escaped traumatic events and were led out of harm’s way to tell strikingly similar stories. Sometimes visitations can happen in dreams. Dreaming seems to be an easier place for the departed to make contact. People worldwide have told me about loved ones who have appeared in dreams. A high school student said, “I dreamed I was called to serve as a chaplain for my best friend’s funeral. The next day we learned that she had been killed in an auto accident.” Similarly, loved ones have appeared in my patients’ and my own dreams telling those who remain here that they are okay and that they love us, or imparting specific messages ranging from the practical to the cosmic. For instance, a patient’s deceased sister came to her in a dream communicating, “Always take care of Philip,” their brother who had schizophrenia. And when I dreamed of my mother soon after she died, she instructed, “Be grateful that your life has so much passion.” I heard Mother’s wisdom and rarely take for granted the blessing of my passion. Reaching out to loved ones who’ve transitioned isn’t just something mediums can do. Your love is strong enough to cross those bounds, to be heard by companions who aren’t as far away as you think. To experience this, practice the following exercise every day for a week until it feels comfortable. Record your impressions in a journal. SURRENDER TO ETERNAL LOVE: SENSE YOUR BELOVEDS ON THE OTHER SIDE During quiet moments, close your eyes. In a relaxed state, focus your love on the one who has transitioned. Erase the idea that there’s a “here” and a “there.” Don’t worry about whether communicating is possible or not. Just sit and be present in love, faith, and happiness about your bond with each other. Inwardly invite the person to come closer. With a pure heart, ask to feel, hear, or see him or her. Stay open without pretense or expectation. Then note any intuitions you receive now, later, or in dreams. Do you feel a wisp of movement or breeze? Do you sense the person nearby? Do you have a vivid image or a long- forgotten memory or do you hear a voice? Are you feeling an emotion? Let the tears, laughter, or other feelings flow. That will help you receive the person’s messages, subtle or direct. Don’t ask others to confirm if these are real. Simply know what you know in appreciation of the link that invisibly connects us all. Accept any signs of communication as a token of goodness that comes from humbly surrendering to the mystery. THE GRACE OF CLOSURE Surrendering to the mystery of an afterlife using the above exercise and other strategies I’ve presented can help you find healthy closure after a loss. Closure means recognizing that an ending has occurred, an acceptance of “so be it”— as painful as it is to begin releasing your physical attachment to someone. Closure gives you a sense of completion or at least a sense of knowing that the relationship had gone as far as it was meant to. You benefit from closure by gaining more peace. Those who’ve crossed over benefit since there’s no pull of unfinished business so they can move on. To honor their journey, and your own, reflect on this Japanese prayer of solace and surrender: Like the day of my birth , Like the day of my death Is this day: I begin to travel . Closure signals the end of an era for the relationship but not the end of love. Whether you meet again in some other place or time is yet to be seen. For now, though, closure lets you surrender to living fully embodied in the present instead of getting derailed by the past or what you’ve lost. As poet John O’Donohue wrote, “When you’ve gone as far as you can go, quietly await your next beginning.” Closure allows you to surrender to your future with faith and an open heart. There are enchanted, compassionate forces operating in the universe if you can allow yourself to open to them. There are invisible hands at work— you can call them angels if you like— that are watching over each one of us. When your loved ones pass over, they may become one of the angels who watch over you. Michelangelo once said, “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set it free.” Of course, there’s no ironclad method to prove or disprove the particulars of the other side. However, the great power that you possess is the crystal- clear knowing of your intuition. My wish is that you can increasingly honor intuition and cherish the bursts of revelation about the mysteries that it offers. Over and over again, your surrender will entail deepening your commitment to what you want to trust, live by, and gain solace from. The tremendous challenge and promise of this book, from accepting death to succeeding in business to falling in love, is letting yourself be catapulted beyond the ordinary to view all of existence in extraordinary terms. The cycles of light— mortality and immortality— are part of the astonishing adventure of surrender. This path of awakening to wholeness is open to anyone who desires it. Every experience you go through— good, bad, or indifferent— can offer a teaching that enriches the sacred practice of letting go. The artfulness of life, the clumsiness, the grace, the messinese, the faltering, and the clarity are integral to this dance. Breathe deeply with it all. Keep surrendering through the pleasure and the pain. Keep releasing what constrains you as you immerse your body and soul in the cosmic rhythms. Life is permeable and ever- changing. You can’t do it all right. You can’t do it all wrong. Relax: imperfection is part of the beauty you’re after. Let go to the passionate perfection and imperfection of everything. You have just one imperative: live each moment with the most open, generous heart you can have, with the most magic and faith you can summon. Then wildly spread these heart- altering blessings around. What a relief when you can realize that we’re dying all the time and being rebirthed again and again into our own lives, into the heavens and hells that constitute our exquisite human experience. Flowing with the diverse, sometimes contradictory aspects of yourself is enticing and impressive. Don’t run from your changes. Ride them out. Meet power with power. Constantly, in nature, synchronicities of birth and death are paired: your grandmother dies, your daughter is born; a relationship is lost, a love is found; night and day merge into each other with the setting and rising of the sun. May surrender be your prayer for wholeness that comforts you on your never- ending path of discovery. What I’m certain of is that if you yearn to surrender, if you yearn to be free, everything in the universe will conspire to assist you. Then you’ll become more alive, more experimental, more interesting. You are laughing. You are crying. You are old. You are young. You are innocent. You are experienced. You are chanting the songs of the eternals. You are falling upward ecstatically into the sky. I am full of optimism for us all. Your time has come. Our time has come. When surrender is a priority, you are ready to savor an abundant, more fearless life. What you’ve learned in this book about letting go of fear and embracing an ever- growing ecstasy will keep you attuned to the pulse of your life and your vitality. Lean into your heart, always. Hold back no goodness or passion. Treasure yourself and each other. Our hope, the hope of this planet and human evolution, comes from our dedication to surrendering to the oneness and radiant life force of love. SURRENDER AFFIRMATION TO PRAISE THE MYSTERY I am one with my body. I am one with the earth. I am one with the heavens. I am not just my body. I am not just this earth. I surrender to the vastness of spirit, to the infinity of love, to the ecstasy of the unexpected, and to the bounty of happiness I deserve. I surrender to the love of all things in our time and beyond .
