soulMerlin’s Almanack

Sep 25

Flying and Dying - (Part Four)

Category: Flying and Dying

Flying and Dying in Synchronicity

I was sitting in the aircraft, en- route from Houston to Blighty, reading a book I had bought just before I boarded the plane, when I realized that I was not only flying over the exact locations mentioned by the author, but also at the precise moment I was reading about them!

 

Huston via Hartford and Maine to England

My fears about flying had receded somewhat since the sad event of the Phuket air disaster - I was after all, going home to England and not to Hartford; what I didn’t at first realize, was that my flight-path went directly from Houston diagonally to the right, toward Hartford and Maine, before turning directly right toward home.

The book “Here if you Need Me” a true story by Kate Braestrup, was immediately totally absorbing. Around ten years ago, Kate’s husband Drew, a Maine state trouper was killed by an out-of-control, oncoming driver. This tragedy caused Kate to re-examine her life and take on the future path her husband had chosen, which was to become a chaplain with the Maine Warden Service. This caused Kate to take up the studies her husband had decided to embark upon. She is now one of the first chaplains ever appointed to the Maine Warden Service.

I felt an immediate empathy with Kate’s need to care, wash and see her deceased husband right through to his cremation and to the final scattering of his ashes, by the lighthouse in Port Clyde. Then it struck me with a shock that I was reading about Port Clyde at the exact moment I was flying over it!

I had paused in my reading and had switched the video monitor screen to a map of the flightpath we were taking. Frankly up to that moment I had only a hazy idea of where Houston was (extreme left pin) and I certainly didn’t know that Hartford was on route (second pin to the right) but the real shock came when I realized that I was thinking about how I scattered Christina’s ashes along the Durham river banks and how I stripped off in front of folk (who didn’t seem to notice) and swam to the middle of the River Wear, before letting the urn sink to the bottom, at the precise moment my plane flew over Port Clyde. (third pin)

I then realized that I was doing what the spirit-ball in my prophetic dream had asked: “Have you checked your route to Hartford?”

I read the book from cover to cover throughout the flight. Kate is a Universalist Unitarian minister, with a natural view of spirituality that resonates with the North American Indian and also the English Pagan/Druid ‘Old’ religious ways. She talks of honouring the dead by lining simple graves with flowers and by building mounds of stone to both commemorate them and also to keep contact through the active process of digging, tending and building. Kate’s spirituality goes beyond the tramlines of accepted religious practice, to an instinctive understanding of “The All”.

I have seldom felt such an affinity with a writer’s beliefs. If this was ‘the prophecy’ then all my fears about my journey were mistaken. Was it just by chance that I had picked up the book at the airport shop? (I have never bought a book in an airport to read on a flight before). Was it the spirit of Kate’s husband guiding me? Was it the spirit of my mother nudging me on?.. Or was it just chance?

I think that once a person decides to ‘tune into’ the spiritual dimension, the spiritual dimension then reciprocates and begins to reach toward them. All that is then really needed is ‘acceptance’. It seems to be an active/passive process that is easily dispersed by intellectual resistance. “Want” and then “Accept” and then “Wait” seems to have been the process I have gone through and through which I still pass. I do not feel that the messages I receive should be of any great importance. It is enough that I now feel that I walk with my ancestors; that I am part of a process of Love that is passed on from generation to generation.

One thing intrigues me a little is a story near the end of the book: A young women left her dorm’ room at St. Mary’s College in Waterford Maine, planning to drive to Portland for a dental appointment and then to meet her mother for lunch…She was murdered as she crossed the campus car park. It did not escape me that the young woman’s name was Christina and that the surname of the detective who solved the murder was Love.

For me it is now like a living conversation. Events both simple and significant are offered to me, rather like in normal family life, where the stories of the day are related over dinner; for me to place any great meaning on them, would be to court sensationalism and self-importance.

It is enough that they happen and that I recognize them for what they are.

I have now returned to the US and I’m writing this from Hartford. The weather is warm and sunny, like a wonderful Summer day in England - But the next journey from England to Hartford would prove to test me to the limit…

soulMerlin

Click on this link: Here if You Need Me

A little thought: “Being Professional is about doing the things you love, on the days you don’t feel like doing them.” - David Halberstam, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and journalist who died in a car crash in April.

1 Comment so far

  1. Robin Easton April 2nd, 2008 7:59 pm

    I am SO grateful that you sent me to this post, and so glad to have found you. I cannot believe your writing. I’ve not had someone’s writing touch me so deeply in a long time. You come from your heart and soul…simple, clean and human….with room left to breath. I resonate with the truth and openness of your words, and very much related to this:

    “For me it is now like a living conversation. Events both simple and significant are offered to me, rather like in normal family life, where the stories of the day are related over dinner; for me to place any great meaning on them, would be to court sensationalism and self-importance. It is enough that they happen and that I recognize them for what they are.”

    I grew up in Maine but left at 18 to travel the world and only went back for a handful of years after my Australian rainforest time. I’ve not yet read Kate Braestrup’s book, but am now going to. I’m sure it will touch me profoundly. From what you’ve said here I can see why you would like it…so will I.

    PS I also just love these words of yours: “It is enough that I now feel that I walk with my ancestors; that I am part of a process of Love that is passed on from generation to generation.”

    Yes. Such beautiful truth.
    Thank you.
    Robin

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