All That Really Matters

Vulnerability, pushback, and spiritual anchors

After being away for hours, I came home the day my brother died in 2002, stumbled to the couch and collapsed. My dog, Cleo, immediately came over and burrowed onto my lap, leaning her head against my heart, as if she knew my heart was breaking and was trying her best to help. She stayed there as I cried, nuzzling closer each time I sobbed.

I was having trouble processing my day. My brother died. I had to relay the news to my parents and sisters. And then there was this incredible event: I witnessed my deceased grandmother greeting my brother. I heard Grandma say his name over and over again in the unique way she had, as if she was crying with joy at the reunion. I had felt a deep, unconditional love overwhelm my body and my soul. 

My mind was reeling, but there were things to do over the next days, so I plodded through.

Then, two days after my brother died I sensed him in my bedroom at 5:00 am. I was already awake, staring at the ceiling fan with Cleo curled up at the bottom of the bed softly snoring. I felt my brother there, just like someone can know who is behind them before turning around.

My brother’s words came to me, not out loud, but in my head: “You have to take care of my family.”

I said, “No” out loud. Agreeing with him would have meant admitting he was gone. I still hadn’t accepted that.

He implored me again, a little more insistently, “You have to take care of my family.”

I said, with a little more force, “I don’t wanna,” in the petulant voice only a youngest child can fully master. I began crying.

He tried again, gentler, and I felt love and compassion emanating from him: “You have to take care of my family.”

I finally said, weakly, “I’ll try.” Then it felt as if he nodded and left.

Cleo slept through the whole thing.

Sharing with Vulnerability

As soon as I started sharing my stories, I started getting pushback. “You were in shock. Your mind made the whole thing up.” “You were just imagining what you wanted to hear.”

I knew (a) what I experienced, and (b) my imagination was not that creative.

At first I was less concerned about pushback. Something astonishing happened to me and I wanted to share. I wanted everyone to understand the incredible love that is just beyond our earthly reach.

One person said I was wrong in thinking I was visited by my now-deceased brother. Her reasoning was something like, “God knows our needs and can send his angels to deliver messages in a voice we can understand.”

I responded incredulously, “So angels were mimicking my brother’s voice? And they somehow felt like him, too? Spoke in his cadence? Had his gentleness of tone?”

She said, “Yes.” She said more than that, trying to modify my interpretation into something that fit within her own theology. And there was no room for communication with dead people in her theology. My interpretation made her uncomfortable.

Challenging our existing beliefs

I now understand better why some people reacted the way they did to my stories. Our spiritual beliefs constitute an anchor in our lives, keeping us steady as the winds of life rage all around us. If a new concept threatens to upend that steadiness, an uneasy feeling starts deep within us. We first reject what doesn’t fit.

All humans have this mechanism within us, even those of us who consider ourselves open-minded. Our brains have magic properties that give us a dopamine hit of pleasure when we hear something that fits within our existing world view. Conversely, our magic brains lead us to seek out disconfirming evidence if something doesn’t fit within our existing world view.

We humans really don’t like to change our minds.

I can only know a small part of that which is infinite

Is what I believe true? I don’t know, nor do I feel I need to know. What is important is that these experiences — and my interpretation of these experiences — changed my life in profound and powerful ways. I now feel at a deep level that

• life continues after death,

• communication is possible, and

• love—a deep, unconditional love beyond any earthly experience – is what awaits.

These beliefs have given me strength and confidence in the midst of a changing world.

I don’t understand the mysteries of the universe; I have more questions than answers. My spiritual anchor is the belief that this powerful love is all that really matters. And I’ve felt this love in the communications I’ve received from those who are no longer on this earthly plane, including from my faithful companion, Cleo pup.