I received the following email from Marianne, one of the generous contributors here at Psychic Revolution. It was meant to be posted as part of the discussion on our big paranormal questions but, as with a lot of the writing that goes on here, it struck a chord with me and so I thought I’d start a new post.
In the Beginning
Below, Marianne comments on something that I wrote a long time ago but it is something I do feel holds true for me today.
Essentially, when I first came to earth this time round, I struggled.
I didn’t want to be here. Still don’t in some ways.
It’s not that I don’t love life and appreciate all that is beautiful about it. I do.
It’s more that I wanted to be there, not here and I found taking on the coarser energy a struggle. I guess my memories are of a place with finer energy and it’s the contrast that I struggle with.
Having said that, Im committed to being here and becoming a mother was very much a part of my grounding. I am so in the here and now, now that my memories of the finer place have receded.
My challenge was to ground the dream and I feel I have done that. Now, I my challenge is to work back from coarse to fine (yes, I do like challenges). And this website is part of that journey.
So, that’s the background to Marianne’s post below.
But, before we move onto Marianne’s words I need to explain why this post is called:
Confronting Life, Confronting Death
My Dad is very unwell. That’s him above with my Mum. The picture was taken in June this year at my daughter’s 18th birthday party, here at home. Dad was not well when he made the big effort to get on a plane, to celebrate the first of his only two grandchildren to reach adulthood. Since then his health has deteriorated further and pain is his constant companion.
Dad is of that generation which is both stoic and uncomplaining and pig headed and independent. It’s a challenge (there’s that word again) to deal with this mix and to be so far away. I’m hoping Dad will be admitted to hospital (readmitted) as soon as possible, today would be good but even that seems too late.
Some of you may remember in another post, I alluded to the difficulties that go with artificial hips. Dad had his replaced and bounced back to excellent health. Then, In January he had a fall (nothing to do with blackouts of tripping – an explainable fall) and he stepped onto a slippery slide.
This week I suspect I’ll find out that there’s more to his condition than the superbug that has taken over his body.
This week will be a long week. Waiting; not knowing; thinking; praying; planning; loving. I’m a telephone counsellor on a crisis helpline here in Australia and we talk about sitting, really sitting and being there for that person in their pain. That’s what Im doing with Dad. My Dad.
So, to come back to the title, while a part of me is still remembers having to confront life and coming to grips with being here, on the other hand my Dad is confronting death. There was a time when I would have changed places with him – I used to keep looking for the exit door, as if I’d made a wrong turn. But not now. My wonderful daughters, Dad’s only grand daughters, have helped me to well and truly commit to this life – but a part of me does remember otherwise.
Now, I’m on a journey with Dad, perhaps his final journey (it’s too early to know), and I’m with him in spirit and heart as he makes some tough decisions about whether to recommits to this life, or not. Of course there is hope; there must be hope. Nothing is decided and much is unknown. But, this week I feel marks a the beginning of a new journey.
If you feel able, a prayer and some healing for Dad (and Mum and my family) would be greatly received. And please, remember to hug your loved ones and tell them how much you care and how much they really matter to you.
And now, back to the email that triggered this post.
I have been thinking for a few weeks now about how you said you cried for the first 18 months of your life. And then you said you probably didn’t want to be down here on Earth. I didn’t want to reply until I had something that may strike a chord with you.
It makes me sad that you think you didn’t want to be here. Of course you did! You probably just didn’t want to be all cooped up in that crib with only rattles and pacifiers to keep your magnificent mind engaged.
So I found this passage from “The Ringing Cedars of Russia” that reminded me a bit of you (I so wish you’d read only the first book and make up your own mind – not what that one reviewer said who hadn’t even read the entire series. This book made me believe in God. A real God that I could understand. Not the god I was taught about for 12 years in Catholic School…, Yikes!)
Here’s the passage:
(Book 3, page 154 – Anastasia is speaking)
There is just one thing that is important [in raising a child], and it [the child] will find the right path under any conditions.
And what’s that?” [asks the writer of the books]
“One’s attitude to one’s child. The thoughts surrounding the child. Believe me, and try to understand. Christ could only be born only by a mother who believed that Christ would be born to her, and if the parents have the same attitude to their child as they would to Christ or Mohammad, their offspring will follow this thought. And he will become whoever he aspires to become. People will still explore Nature, and those who are able to feel and become aware of what the Creator has created – its sense and purpose – they will be able to make a bright and happy world for their child…
…this can only be done with the heart. Only the heart is capable of understanding it.”
End of passage
So, I think you were bored and wanted to explore all on your own. You did want to come down here, because look at what your field of study is? Look at all the people you’ve helped. Look at all you’ve done to help yourself. As an infant you most likely just wanted to go out and play with the ants and flowers and look at the sky. Not be all penned up inside. You already knew how big and wonderful the world is, and you wanted to see it. But did for some reason you didn’t.
Someone once said we have two chances to have a good family life. When we are young. And when we have our own. True enough, ey?
Response From Rosemary
Marianne, I was in a bookshop the other day (rare thing these days as I mainly buy online) and there it was – the whole series of these books – except Book 1.
So, Im letting your suggestion just be, for the moment.
Thank you so much for thinking of me and writing to me directly. I hope my explanation above gives you more of an idea about my mindset when I arrived here. My parents have been a godsend and, as you say, there’s nothing like being a parent to revisit the many twists and turns of our own childhood.
I know some people are critical of their parents and their upbringing. I’m not one of them.
It’s in my nature to be that way but, because I’m not in this instance, this says a lot about the way my parents raised me and the role model they have become for my own parenting.
I was once told that I had several options when it came to choosing my parents in this lifetime (spoilt for choice). I’m happy with my choice. Mum and Dad are just right for me. We do fit together well.
I was born into a good family Marianne and, with the advent of my husband my girls, that good family has just grown bigger and better. How long it will stay this size however, remains to be seen.