Beginnings & Endings in the Eternal Stream

Many of you write to say these newsletters strike a chord with you. Some of them, like today’s, feel very personal to me too. It was a week of beginnings and endings.

Sunday night, I heard a loud noise and went outside to discover that a bird had hit the window and was lying prone on the ground. I put my gloves on and gently picked her up. I knew she wasn’t long for the world. Her eyes were closed, and I felt only the tiniest bit of life force within. I held her to my heart and prayed for her peace until a burning heat streamed through my heart and hands and surged into her little body, releasing her spirit. I felt her leave, saw her in my mind’s eye hovering in front of me, and then flying free.

I wailed, not so much from loss, but from feeling the privilege of being able to love another soul during their transition. I know we live on. I just want everyone to feel loved. Her sweet spirit was anything but sad. As I marveled at the miraculous perfection of her tiny form, I felt an even more intense appreciation for every moment of life on this earth.

I “laid her in state,” as I do for animals that come to me to die, on a bed of soft tissue, lavender flowers, and rose petals, and paid tribute to her life until the next day, when I gently laid her to rest in the earth in my backyard. I felt her appreciation and cried even more. The beauty of our dance sometimes overwhelms me.

I’d rather breathe life back into injured creatures. Sometimes that has been the case, but often they come to me to be loved on their way out. This little dove had been born on my patio column several years back. We watched each other through the window every day, and she and her sibling stayed around the yard their whole lives. What a privilege to be there for her birth, her first flight, and the flight of her soul out of body. It brings me to tears still. Life is so precious. She gave me the gift of seeing the eternal through new eyes.

That afternoon, a mother dove who had nested just outside my door hatched her little chick. I went outside, still teary-eyed from the transition an hour before, and looked into the eyes of brand-new life—another miracle in feathered form. Mama dove, with whom I’ve been spending a great deal of time in silence, sent me a huge wave of love and asked why I was sad. I sent her pictures of the bird that had passed, and she looked intently at me, then at the little dove. And again—at me, then the little dove.

Really? They reincarnate that fast?

Apparently, in some cases. Mother dove looked at me with such compassion and what looked like relief that I got the message. My mind was blown again, as it has been so many times by these otherworldly experiences. The baby stared at me with pure sweetness, and I stood transfixed. I’ve never seen birth and death so closely tied in time. This was new, even for me. I shut my mind off and gazed in wonder at the eternal stream manifesting itself in this adorable little creature.

This isn’t the first time I’ve looked at the same soul in different eyes. Years ago, a client brought his large dog with him every time he came for an appointment. The dog and I had our little greeting routine. He’d run up, then turn around and back into my hands, waiting for his massage! When the dog passed, his communication was loud and clear. In spirit, he explained he’d be back. He gave me the week and month, told me how it would happen. Sure enough, to the day, the owner was contacted by a rescue society and told that a lady out of state had to give up her nearly identical dog. His dog in spirit had told me the one on earth would not want to live without his former owner, so he was going to “walk in,” and the other dog was going to “walk out.” These things are rare, but they can happen. The next time I saw the man and his new dog, the new dog walked up to me, did the exact same greeting he had done for years in his former body, and looked at me intently as if to say, “Told you so!”

Even my dog years ago looked so familiar to me. I knew I knew him, but could not place the feeling. The angels laughed. “You don’t recognize him?” My mind wasn’t ready for what I felt. “No,” I answered. Apparently, my grandpa projected a bit of his love into this dog, and so there we were. “Grandpa? Don’t eat the cushions?” My mind had a hard time wrapping itself around that one until his dog personality revealed so many similarities to my grandpa’s humor that it was hard to deny.

Hearing my grandpa’s spirit in heaven tell me about his experiences as a dog was beyond mind-blowing.  “Why do you eat Kleenex?”  “It feels like cotton candy on my tongue.” “Lord help me,” I used to think. “What do I do with this?” “Love it all,” came the answer. Love every precious moment of these adventures in the body. Grandpa—in his role as my dog—thoroughly enjoyed his adventures, whether I did or not!

Life is a series of constant beginnings and endings—some easy, some humorous, some so hard we don’t think we’re going to live through them.

I have one client who lost her son to what we’d instantly label a tragic death… until he came back in spirit, told her they were going to write a book together, and revealed his life through his soul’s eyes, after allowing her to write about it through her own. In the book, he recounts how his tragic-seeming death stemmed from a sudden, spontaneous realization that he was complete and there was so much more to be discovered in spirit. Their two sides of one story are an amazing example of how life seen through the 3D lens differs from life seen through 5D. If you’re interested, you can check it out here.

Likewise, I know a woman whose husband never recuperated from his traumatic experiences in war until the pain culminated in him tragically leaving the planet. Nevertheless, he came prancing back into her readings and her life in so many undeniable ways that she was able to wade through unthinkable, unbearable, unfathomable grief into the light of self-acceptance and self-love. She feels his presence with her constantly now and has gone forward to become a powerful voice of compassion for the grieving, and an advocate for helping soldiers who come back emotionally wounded from war. Her book is a journey through the darkness of grief into courageously embracing her own light. She shares with such authenticity that she gives others permission to dive so deeply into their own hearts. Dive deep enough, the angels say, and you will inevitably feel the love. You can check out her story here. If you read it, expect visits from her husband in spirit, who loves to prove life is eternal in his own playful fashion!

Beginnings and endings are inextricably tied. We die unto heaven and are born into this life. We die in this life and are born into heaven. Sometimes we rest in heaven for centuries, or if you’re my little birdie, you may reincarnate and hatch within hours.

I destroyed one of my favorite cooking pots this week by accident, and quickly found a new one on eBay. When my old beloved Maytag washer died, I got a new Speed Queen and named her May Queen to embrace the spirit of the Divine laundry feminine! She works tirelessly now for me.

People, creatures, and things come and go through our earthly lives, as the saying goes, “for a season, a reason, or a lifetime,” and even a lifetime is a blip on the screen of eternity. But temporary as these forms may be, they are precious to us. Our life in this body is a precious experience. Our loved ones are precious to us. Our things matter while we love them. And so, the 3D forms have great value in the moments we experience them. But when they are gone, the greater value—the soul and the light within—is highlighted.

I think the optimal life experience comes from enjoying the forms with all our hearts—the hugs, the touches, the conversations, the howls, meows, and chirps; the devices, the fabrics, the tastes and smells, and so much more—but also knowing there is more behind it all. I love my people and my things, but beyond them, I love the soul within and the spirit of love that inhabits all. I miss dear ones when they leave. I cry when the little birdies fly free, because at those times, I feel the poignant preciousness of life itself and the privilege of being in this form for the time being, enjoying the miracle of life as we know it.

Someday, we’ll know the miracle of life behind this miracle… and on it goes, deeper and deeper into the eternal presence of love.

Beginnings and endings can be exciting, a relief, or deeply difficult—but in any case, they offer us new realities and new chances to love.

Here are a few ways to remember the love in your beginnings and endings:

1.  Look for Evidence of Your Resilience

When a beginning or ending feels difficult, look to your past for evidence of how resilient you really are.

Recall a time when you began a new phase of your journey and felt intimidated or unsure. Maybe it was going to college, starting a job, having a baby, getting married, leaving a relationship, or launching a business. Think of something new you entered into. Recall how you felt at the time—and then look at how love evolved through that choice.

Whether the marriage worked or not, you evolved. Whether the business failed or succeeded, you grew. Whether college was inspiring or exhausting, you learned.

No matter the outcome, recognize how the choice to begin something new led to growth.

Now think of an ending that felt incredibly hard at the time. Maybe it was leaving home, ending a relationship, or even something small—like saying “no” when you meant no for the first time, ending a lifetime habit of people-pleasing.

How did that ending catalyze your growth? How did it lead you to seek greater love?

I was terrified the day I quit engineering, but every day since has been better and more loving because I allowed my heart to lead me through a difficult ending. I’ve mourned the loss of loved ones, only to have them visit me more often now than when they were in physical form. When my dearest dogs passed, I discovered new freedom. When my first car was on its last legs, I found my second—one I still love and drive to this day.

There are many times we think we can’t handle something, only to discover we’re far more resilient than we knew.

2. Look at the Relationship Between Beginnings and Endings

Make a list of your beginnings and note what had to end to permit them. Make a list of your endings and reflect on the beginnings they led to.

There is never one without the other. Somehow, simply contemplating this truth can help you feel the eternal flow of life.

3. 3. What Beginnings or Endings Do You Want Now?

Sometimes we just need to admit it: we want a beginning or an ending.

Maybe we want to start a new hobby, learn a new skill, or dive into a new exploration. Or maybe we want to release an old complaint, end a habit that no longer serves us, or finally clean out the closet.

Write down the beginnings you want—and what they’ll end. Write down the endings you want, and what they might begin.

This balanced perspective can help us clarify what we truly want—and all that it involves.

Transitions and change in life are inevitable. So is love’s tendency to carry us through them, calling us, beckoning from within, always trying to show us the way.

Today begins and yesterday ends. Today ends and tomorrow begins.

Here and now is where we live—eternally—in spite of all transitions. And in this precious present, there is always something to love. 💛