Posts Tagged ‘death’

Let’s talk about bugs again. This time it wont be mosquitoes though, I promise. And heads up, there is some santería related stuff in here, and I would LOVE to receive comments from those of you who are more learned than me in that particular religion.

I just read this blog post over at Mystical bewilderment, which was about spirit bugs or bugs being used as spiritual warnings, which made me think about something that my mom experienced a couple of years ago.

Me and my mom wre on Cuba, experiencing the not-so-touristic sides of Havana. We were there as a part of a cultural exchange project, focused on dance. For years I had practiced afro-cuban dance and this was a way for my dance group to get over there and learn more, dancing with one of the local dance companies. Since the dancing revolved around Santería it also came natural to learn more about the religion, and one of the favourite moments of the trip was when we attended a “birthday celebration” in which there was lots of food, lots of dancing, lots of sacred drumming and people going in and out of trances. Crazy cool.

On the last day in Havana, my mom took a short walk through the local market. An old man suddenly came up to her. The man held up a wooden staff in front of mom, and said that she was going to buy it from him. Now mom isn’t easily fooled by street merchants , but as she described it afterwards this old man seemed so very… weird. He was so serious . It seemed important. So she gave the man some money and received the staff.

Later that day we were moving out and going back to the airport. The leader of our group, our teacher and choreographer who is also a santera, caught sight of the wooden staff in mom’s hand. She froze, staring at the staff and looking slightly shocked. She asked mom where she’d gotten it, and shook her head in disbelief.

The staff is about the size of a walking cane, but thicker and shaped a bit differently with a bug knob at the top. It’s painted all over in bright colours, and at the top knob there is an eye. My dance teacher explained that this kind of staff is used in specific rituals, very dark and dangerous rituals about death. Such a staff would NEVER be sold to a tourist just like that, which was why it made her so shocked to see it in mom’s hand.

So what about the bug? Well, we came home. The staff was placed in the living room. It made mom feel uncomfortable, and it had the same effect on me though not as strong. But it felt scary. So we didn’t touch it much, it just needed to be there. Then all hell broke loose in our lives as my grandpa died and our family broke apart. It was a time of heightened emotions as well as spiritual experiences, as both me and mom seemed to be going through a sensitive period.

One night when I wasn’t at home, mom was woken up by her two cats making an unusual amount of noise. She went out to the living room and found both cats intently watching the wooden staff. Mom took a closer look.

On top of the knob there was a huge bug. An unusually big and veeery colourful beetle. It had the same colours as the staff it was sitting on. As mom looked at it, it flew up and crossed to room, eventually landing on top of an old cupboard (almost 100 years old, that used to belong to my mom’s grandparents).

Mom told me about what had happened as soon as I came home the next day. We went looking for it, but it was nowhere to be seen, though I could see traces of it in the dust on top of the cupboard. We went on to look up every kind of beetle known to exist in Sweden, and found nothing even remotely close to what mom had seen. Too many colours, too big. It just shouldn’t have been there.

Mom is still convinced that the bug was physically there, but that it had to have something to do with the creepy magical staff. I tend to agree. Not sure how it all connects though, and what it means. Most of all, I would love to learn more about what that staff really IS. Ever heard of anything like it? As I wrote in the start, we were told it was the kind used in rare and dangerous rituals of death.  Does it ring a bell to any of you?

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A couple of years ago, a much loved politician in our country was attacked. I remember hearing it on the evening news, and while not a lot was known then about the details it was clear that she had been stabbed,  and that she had been brought to the emergency.

The whole nation was holding its breath, in shock. To think that such a thing could happen here!

That night, I went to bed early. After hearing about the attack I went directly to my room, feeling that I had to at least try to do something. I laid down on my bed and started going into meditation. I tried to open up and connect to her.  I repeated her name and imagined a string of energy reaching from my body to hers.

I remember feeling the connection establish. Now I was just a teenage girl with limited experience, and I had no illusions of being a great healer or anything. But I repeated my message: Take what you need of my energy. Use my energy to heal and stay alive. 

That was all I could do. I focused intensely on keeping open a link to her and repeated that message, opening up for her to use my energy if she needed it. I fell asleep with that thought.

In the middle of the night I woke up. I could still feel the connection and repeated my message once more.

Then I dreamt a long and quite disturbing dream. I dreamt of telling to young boys that their mother had died.

Early in the morning, I woke again, startled. The connection was lost, it was as if it had been cut. I looked at the alarm clock beside my bed, it was about 5.30. Feeling an incredible sadness but also a sort of stillness, I went back to sleep.

Turned out she had died at 5.30 in the morning in the hospital. She left behind to young sons.



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For the last couple of weeks I’ve made a habit out of meditating right before I fall asleep, either sitting in bed or laying down, and welcoming sleep anytime it comes. I first begin by shifting my consciousness from bodypart to bodypart, leaving each part completely relaxed. Then I move my attention from my body to my spirit, acknowledging any feelings and thoughts before I can try to relax my mind as well.

Then I shift my consciousness even further back, into my soul. This is where it gets a bit challenging! In this relaxed state of mind and body I can sense my soul, or my “higher self” or whatever you’d like to call it, existing within yet also beyond my physical boundaries.  I feel it connecting to the rest of me by an cord of energy, almost like an umbillical, connected to solar plexus. Interestingly, I always feel it stretching back through my middle back rather than forward through chest or stomach. I follow it to what I feel is my soul. Pure energy and light. Me yet very much beyond me. I’ve not yet been able to shift my consciousness into my soul the way I can with the different body parts and the mind, but I get ever closer. I get to the cord, I follow it and come upon that being of light that is me, and I can’t get closer. Not yet at least. And maybe I never will?

Last night when I performed this bedtime meditation I felt a great need to communicate, and called on my grandpa and his mother. I felt them come, told them how much they are loved. As usual I was more or less bombarded by great multitude of images and feelings, all jumbled together. To much to make any sense of whatsoever, as it usually is. I asked for help to understand and listen, to make sense of all I picked up! And almost immediately I saw one of those whirling plates than acrobats may spin on the tip of their finger, or on a staff. I saw it spin, focused and clear, realizing the image stayed with me a lot longer than usual. A message, yes. After that it became easier to focus, I thought of the spinning, whirling…

I asked grandpa and great grandma if they had a message to my mother, and got a strong reply. Do not fear death, they said. Live without fear, and when her time comes they will come to her, be with her.

In the end, I felt myself starting to lift, my hands and arms moving out of the physical boundaries. I felt like a baby rocking back and forth, just before learning how to crawl. I am so close, so close.

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I read a post on another blog just now (http://psychicintraining.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/crossing-over/) , that made me think of when I lost my grandpa… So I thought I’d share it with you!

Grandpa had gotten a stroke, and been at the hospital for several days without being able to communicate with us. This one day, I was there together with my mother and grandmother. We sat quiet, and I almost fell asleep. Then I was overcome by the sad beauty and love in the room, thinking how amazing it was that we, four generations of women gathered around him… Me, his granddaughter. Mom, his daughter. His wife, my grandmother. And his mother. All there to take care of him and show our love.

Then suddenly I awoke. His mother? What? His mother had been dead for decades, and I had never even met her! But she was there, in that very room, I was sure of that!

A couple of days later, early in the morning, I awoke with a bang. You know that feeling of falling down, that the scientists explain as a remnant from when we lived and slept in trees? Like that. But just when I had opened my eyes I heard a very clear voice. An woman, for some reason I knew that it was my grandpa’s mother. She simply said: “He’s gone now.”

Turned out, my grandpa had passed away at the hospital at that very moment. I was horribly sad, but not surprised.

I still mourn him, though it was a couple of years ago.  At the same time I feel comforted by the knowledge that we might be helped over two the other side by relatives who have passed before us, that we are not alone…

Have you got similar experiences?

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