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There is Life after Death

At some point in our life, we deal with loss …The loss of a friend, a partner, a soulmate.

In a recent conversation with my wife we talked about Quinn, the Friesian she let go off in 2011. He used to be Kylian’s best friend before he met Brenda Lee in person and he used to be Katleen’s equine soulmate, along with Kylian.

This Whispering is about how I used the story of being human to help her in 2011 with how to create life in the next chapter of the story of Quinn, her horse friend.

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The human I’m referring to is Frank Reid, my father, and how he became more alive in my story of him since his death than when he was alive.

My father, as all of us, had many sides to his personality. I often refer to him as a “More Than”. More kind, more selfless, more funny and more generous Than anyone else I knew.  More mean, more violent, more selfish and more fearful Than anyone else I ever knew.

After his passing, I got on with my life and decided  to pursue a childhood dream of being a Body Builder.  During this venture I could often be witnessed in the gym lifting incredible amounts of weight.  People around me were amazed and gave me great space when I was working out.  Not because I wanted them to but rather because of the intense focused state I would put myself into, in order to lift these weights.  I would tap into my fathers’ violence and meanness and move weights that were previously beyond my imagination.

While in this state a funny thing happened, I was filled with gratitude for my father being my father.  Something I had lost long ago, wiped out by the states of being on the other side of too much alcohol, and what that does to an already intense personality acting out his pain on others.

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Here I was, headphones on, listening to Christine Aguilera’s music as loud as it would go and the most obvious forces driving my performance were my fathers intensity, anger and violence applied to my childhood dreams in a focused pursuit.

I never asked for this intensity but here it was, available for my use to create rather than destroy. An option only made true by my choosing to direct it toward the life I wanted to create, the story I wanted to write.

I wondered if he ever had this option, if he was ever aware of this choice.

Resentment, loss and anger were transformed through awareness and understanding to gratitude, love, and support and the gift was my father “ALIVE” in my life, lifting me toward the life I wanted to create.  My father was alive in my life and I was forty at the time.  “Thank you Frank”.

Back to Katleen.  As I listened to Katleen share her feelings of her loss of Quinn I was moved to see how well she was doing.

I remember she was feeling the loss, the pain, the sorrow and she was O.K. with it.  She was actually slightly beyond O.K. to a state of satisfaction that she could at once feel pain, loss, sorrow, and confusion all the while feeling warmth, fondness, connection and love toward her companion.  She was solid in her authenticity and genuineness. Two states that Quinn taught her were the foundation of living in the moment and following your heart.  As I listened to her, I felt a sense of relief that she was doing well and a sense of gratitude toward having a friend who lives life according to the life lessons her horses have taught her.  To be in the moment, to be genuine and authentic.

In her authenticity she shared that she will never get to feel him again.  She alluded to her sense of his “goneness”,  his forever absence from her life, his death.

This is where I asked her to think about another option, his Life.

I shared with her the story of my father and asked her to consider that every horse she owns or rides from this day forth will be influenced by her relationship with Quinn. She could honor his life and bring him back into her world by feeling for his presence and guidance with every relationship she has going forward and toward the life she is creating.  She could create the story of Quinn’s next rather than his never.  The choice was hers, she was aware of the option.

I also reminded her of how so many people ask me how old Brenda Lee is, while what they are really asking is how long till she dies.  What they don’t know is Brenda Lee will always live in my life forever as Quinn does in Katleen’s story.

It’s not the story of the loss of Quinn, it is the story of the living of Quinn in Katleen’s life.

Visit this link to read Katleen’s guest Blog about Quinn.

 

Have you been in the situation of losing a loved one?

What are the gifts that your loved one(s) have left for you, today?

Share it with me and with us all and let your gifts expand.

Feel the Connection,

Brian Reid


Get Brian’s and Brenda Lee’s help to move you, make that change and ultimately gallop to freedom within a timeframe beyond your imagination.

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The Great Eastern Sun

Guest Blog by Judy McClain

 

The day broke cold and windy.  We huddled in the truck as we drove to the beach.  Unloading the horses, we were all cast in silhouette against the breaking-day sky.  The moon was setting in the west.  In between the moon and the lightening sky over the ocean, a cascade of stars blanketed the sky.  i usually get out the door earliest by 6:30; here we were standing in the sand already, headed for the sunrise.

Cynthia’s birthday: an ordinary day.

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From the beginning, i was not surprised.  Cynthia had chosen me as one of five special beings in her life.  Ten years ago i would have reacted: surprise, glee, “Who, me?”  But the invitation summoned in me only gratitude and a big yes, of course.  Of course i would join the sunrise-with-horses-on-the-beach party.  Of course i would sit with my friends in the truck.  Of course we would walk from dawn through sunrise and back again with the waves of the Atlantic pulsing, welcoming Cynthia into the second half of her life, her second birth in this lifetime. We would all be present for her rebirth.

Of course.

 

Most of us have experienced a sunrise or two in our lives.  Some of us make a ritual of rising with the sun.  For me, sunrise takes a little more effort.  Plus, if you blink, you might miss the moment when colors coagulate into form – the peek of the sun itself.  We made our way over the dune to East Beach and just started walking.  We didn’t need to say much.  It felt ordinary, because we are all relaxed with each other, the horses included.  No unnecessary chatter or giggles or moodiness.  We were five friends with two equine companions simply walking into an ever-graphic sky.
 And how beautiful and magical the moment when darkness began to organize itself into color; and then color began to organize itself into shape.  i was tempted to photograph the appearance of the sun itself but then didn’t.  I wanted to feel the moment in my body, to feel the gift of the sun on my face, to watch Cynthia and Brenda Lee together materialize with the light, to move from silhouette to vivid detail.

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The horses were untethered for most of the walk; we were connected and trusted that we would stay together as a team.  And we did.  Our party stretched several hundred yards at times, and yet we remained connected.  I felt Maisie leaning down for her shells; i felt Katleen behind me with the camera; i felt Cynthia riding Brenda Lee way ahead; and when Kylian dropped and rolled in the sand like a puppy, i felt his pure and ordinary joy.  And giant Brian, the magician who had orchestrated this party: i felt him floating along the edge of the receding waves as he simply allowed his vision to manifest.

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My father asked me, “Have you ever occupied the space between dawn and sunrise?”  
He meant this figuratively, i believe.  i have thought a lot about his question in the months since he’s been gone (but not gone, too).  My father was articulating the vividness i found that morning watching my friend in the sun.  To lead a vivid life is to live an extraordinary life.  A life of heightened awareness – strong sensory perception, intuition, connectedness with others – is an extraordinary life.  And yet…..  And yet living in this way, where all of life becomes magical, is perfectly ordinary.  
If we relegate a life of feeling and heightened awareness to something we call extraordinary, it may remain outside our reach.  We may believe that it exists beyond the present moment, accessible only to people who we feel to be more beautiful, more wealthy, more fortunate than we believe ourselves to be.  What a shame that would be.

There is nothing more natural or accessible than happiness and joy; a mindful life is right now, waiting for us to wake up to it.

In walking the beach toward Cynthia’s rebirth, I was reminded that in Buddhist tradition, we choose to live with a joyful, natural approach to life, called the Great Eastern Rising Sun.

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As we led the horses off the beach, we saw a man in a wet suit diving again and again in the shallow waves.  He held a camera; he was photographing the curl of the wave from underwater. He had seen us but would not be drawn away from his work. He felt no need to wave, to speak, or to stare.

We were all experiencing, feeling the morning together.

Perfectly natural, perfectly ordinary.

Of course.

 

Judy McClain

www.GraceYoga.org