IMAGE: Tides of life © Louise A. Shilton
A few days ago marked the ninth anniversary of my dad’s passing over. In the months and days leading up to his passing, he shared his emotional state with me energetically. And in the moments before he passed over—before his soul left his body—I felt the escalation of his physical symptoms and emotions, culminating in the sudden release of both as his soul sighed with relief upon leaving his body. (I blogged about these experiences in “Telepathic Communication from a Soul at the Moment of Passing Over” and “Experiencing the Suicide of a Loved One”.)
At the time my dad’s soul and spirit shared these experiences with me, I was essentially an atheist and did not have a belief framework to support such experiences even being possible―especially as my dad passed over in England, and I was many thousands of kilometres away in Australia. But I knew that somehow, and for some reason that I didn’t understand at the time, I had experienced his passing energetically and telepathically. While confusing, these experiences also offered me a little comfort and occasional respite from the grief and turmoil that ensued―somewhere deep down I had a knowing that my dad’s spirit had not died with his body, but that he lived on in some way. Importantly, given that my dad passed over at his own hands―through intentional suicide―I was also momentarily privy to the fact that he felt better when he passed. (John Cali, channelling Chief Joseph in the documentary Tuning In, says of the death experience at the moment of passing over "It's like taking off a tight shoe―it's always a pleasant experience".)
Almost five years later, in September 2010, I experienced something similar in the build up to, and actual moment of passing of one of my closest soulmates. At that time I had a growing awareness that I was sensitive to others’ energies, but I still didn’t have any idea that I was an empath (see “You Say I’m Emotional Like It’s a Bad Thing!”). I didn’t understand who had communicated with me telepathically, or what exactly had happened until I later read about the event, and continued having lucid dreams and a range of other unusual and paranormal experiences as her spirit revealed to me who she was. I just had a tiny kernel of knowing that I was experiencing something outside of myself, and a sense that I was being shown things about this woman for a reason.
In sharing some of his experiences with me energetically and telepathically, my dad gave me a wonderful gift. It was a gift I needed some time to process―to make sense of what I was to do with it―but I knew it was a gift. And now I know that sharing my experiences openly not only honours my dad, and the ongoing life of his spirit, but also provides some comfort to others who are searching for evidence of life after death―or who have perhaps also experienced the emotions and telepathic communications of other souls, and have not known what to make of them or what to do with them. Sharing my own experiences might also offer some hope and peace, and even encourage confidence in others to trust the experiences that their mind, or other people, may try to talk them out of.
When I first saw a psychic medium in late 2008―three years after my dad’s passing―I went seeking some understanding about what I was supposed to be doing with my ‘premonitions’ and other profoundly intuitive experiences. I was in turmoil because I had experienced a knowingness that some traumatic things were going to happen, and yet I seemed powerless to change the course of those events. I wondered if I was supposed to be using the information that I was privy to in a particular way―whether or not I could help others?
When one of my closest soulmates passed over in late 2010, I didn’t understand exactly what had happened at the time―only that I had an overwhelming sense that my life was never going be the same again. Another soul―my closest soulmate―telepathically called out to me “Oh my god! She’s done it…” and, confused, I remember the voice in my head asking “Who? Done what?!” and then my soul declaring confidently from deep within me “It’s the start of the next chapter…”. (In my experience, the soul's voice booms from the heart chakra area with a deep and unmistakable resonance.)
I was filled with trepidation, and remember I just wanted to run out of the building into the night air with my arms flung open wide, and scream to the world “She’s done it! Nothing will ever be the same again!”―but I kept my emotions inside as best I could. After all, I didn’t actually understand what had just happened, only that it was big―at least big for me―and that the course of my life had just taken a very different trajectory. I remember a colleague asking if I was okay as she observed that I looked distressed, and I recall thinking my response didn’t really make much sense―how could I possibly articulate how I was feeling when I didn’t actually understand why I had just experienced both an accelerated plunge into the darkness, and a simultaneous liberation of spirit flying high?
I have already written about some of the experiences that happened in the days, weeks, months and years that followed in blogs such as “Practising the Art of Letting Go”, “On Heartbreak & Soulmates” and “Pets Have Souls Too―And Sometimes They Alert Us to Others”. Bit by bit, experience by experience, and memory trigger by memory trigger, I pieced together an understanding of an agreement that my soul had with at least two of my closest soulmates―one who had passed over, and the other who was still living, and who I now understand is my twin flame. The spirit of my soulmate who had passed went to great lengths to show me that she was present in my life―she was like a bull in my china shop! Gradually I learned to trust that she was one of my spirit guides―that her contact with me was safe―and that her presence in my life was something that I had agreed to at a soul level. Her passing when she did was part of her soul plan―it was her destiny, her soul path, something her soul had agreed to do as part of her mission to catalyse a wave of heart opening and awakening in others.
At a soul level, the manner and timing of my soulmate's passing was planned as what Jennifer Hoffman calls a "compassion vortex”. It was part of a soul contract that she had agreed to with many other souls, principally involving myself and our mutual soulmate―my twin flame―as part of a greater mission to help many others awaken, heal and grow. It was an act of compassionate service for soul evolution among her tribe, and should be acknowledged and honoured as such.
For the last four years my soulmate's spirit and I have been collaborating as a team―“Team Soulmate” as we affectionately refer to ourselves―in part to reach our other close soulmate, and assist her in her own healing and awareness.
I love my soulmates deeply, and I have been doing my best to honour my own soul agreements with them, as well as more broadly. In order to do so, I had to work through layers of energetic debris to clear the path for my own healing―emotional, physical and soul―and overcome fears around publicly stepping out of the spiritual closet as a scientist and former dyed-in-the-wool atheist. I have transitioned from believing that biological evolution was the essence and primary purpose of life as a human being, to my understanding now that our journey is as spirit beings having a human experience for our individual soul growth as well as the collective evolution of Spirit. In essence, each and every one of us is on a spiritual journey, whether we believe this or not.
Over the last four years it has become increasingly apparent that by honouring my own soul agreements, I am also honouring the life and legacy of my soulmate who passed over―and her ongoing life and work as Spirit. My spirit guide is quite simply one of my closest and most treasured friends. By design, I did not know her in person during her last physical life―but I know that she lived her life with a generosity of spirit, was true to her calling, and touched the lives and hearts of many others. She is remembered and missed by many people for who she was, and what she created in that life―but she, like all of us, is actually so much more in spirit, and she wants those who knew her in life to understand this. She wants for them to know the truth of why she passed over when and how she did.
Our story has many parallels with the wonderful and inspiring life and story of ‘bad boy’ “Billy Fingers”, as written posthumously in The Afterlife of Billy Fingers by his sister Annie Kagan, who received contact and messages about the afterlife from Billy’s spirit after he passed over. And like Billy’s story, my soulmate’s story needs to be written in all its glory―not just the life of who she was as a human―but importantly, who she is in spirit, and the work that she continues to do in supporting others and contributing to the collective awakening and raising of consciousness that is taking place across humanity at this time.
Writing her story―our story―is something that I am completely committed to doing. It is an important story―a beautiful but complex story of profound and enduring love and connection―and I intend to continue to honour her spirit and our soul agreements as best I can.
That our story needs sharing widely is a no-brainer to me. The main challenge that has repeatedly presented itself to me is how do I write this story if the third party in this key trio of souls does not come on board as part of the physical team? I have done my best to write about certain important events and experiences authentically, with sufficient details for the importance of those events to be received, but without giving away personal information about other parties. I have grappled with how I can proceed in honouring my soulmate’s spirit and her ongoing work with me if I do not receive our living soulmate’s blessing―certainly the written story would not be as powerful, and would not honour my soulmate and spirit guide fully if her identity in life is not revealed. But now I am told that I am to write our story anyway―she wants to be named and she wants our story to be shared―this is the best way to honour her life, her gifts, her love, and her spirit. She is still very much alive and so much bigger than she was in her human life―and this, in essence, is true of all of us when we step out of our human bodies and return to spirit (as is described beautifully by Billy Fingers in Annie Kagan’s book).
And so this is what I intend to do, and it is what I must do―it is an important part of my calling. Our story of love and service needs to be shared. It is time. We hope that our much loved other soulmate will come on board with us, but this remains to be seen, and is her choice―her free will. Certainly her involvement in sharing our story would be much better for the tribe and also help extend the reach to a much broader audience, and provide hope and inspiration for many more people who are searching for meaning and understanding. Part of our collective awakening is for us to individually understand that death is an illusion―death is only a transition from one state to another. Life goes on. Each and every one of us is in essence a Divine Spark of life―of consciousness―that is eternal and immortal. The more people that awaken to this knowing―the better our collective humanity will be.
While grieving for loved ones who have passed over is a natural and necessary process for us as humans, with awareness we can shift our thinking away from feelings of loss, to feelings of ongoing love for their spirit―and celebrate their gifts and ongoing life. This is essentially what is already practised in many other cultures, where the cycle of life and reincarnation is a core belief. Remembering souls only in terms of our ‘loss’ and their ‘death’ can actually hold some of their soul evolution back as their energy is repeatedly pulled back into the density of the third dimension―but the shoe no longer fits.
I am humbled and filled with gratitude for the role of my soulmate and my dad’s spirits in awakening me in this life, escalating my search for understanding about life and soul, and catalysing me to step up into my role in being of service to our collective humanity. And, in order to honour their spirits fully―I will write the books that I am called to write.
Death is not the end of the Book of Life—death is only the start of a new chapter.
Do you see death as a final experience or as a transition on our ongoing journeys as spirit?
If you truly knew that your passed over loved one was safe, happy, loved, connected, learning and growing at least as much, if not more, than they were in life―would you honour them differently?