Many people who have lost animals to “death” want to communicate with them through a channel or medium, which is essentially the work I do. When an animal has passed on, I connect through a photo in what is truly the most sacred part of my work. Relaying the messages of an animal in spirit provides comfort to the human companion who remains behind in a maze of grief and self-doubt. Animals tell me repeatedly that they hurt when we suffer this way. In every one of my afterlife consultations, for over 21 years, they deliver this primary message: release guilt and realign with Spirit.
Almost all of my clients ask these questions, exposing their conflicted emotions :
Does he know we did everything we could for him when he was alive?
Please tell him we didn’t even see the tumor. We didn't know he was suffering.
Is she upset with me because I had her put down?
Did she know how much I loved her?
Tell him I put him to sleep to ease his pain, not mine.
Please tell her I'm sorry.
Please tell him why I couldn't stay in the room during the euthanasia.
It took me years to learn how to neutralize these misguided feelings myself.
Our animals know how much we love them, and they understand our difficulty in consciously deciding to part with them. They understand that from the totality of multi-dimensional existence, earthly life is fractional. They accept their temporal roles in in our lives while we waste time berating ourselves with guilt, micro-examining our decisions in hindsight.
In The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche attributes our discomfort with death to our sanitzed western approach to life, which is essentially an ongoing denial of death. By neglecting to give equal attention to the end of this life, we reinforce our unprepareness for death and thus deny ouselves full appreciation of the life cycle. Tibetan culture – most Asian culture -- regards death as part of life and as such is treated reverently, not fearfully. Speaking to us from Spirit, our animals teach this same lesson.
I didn't choose to work with death and dying. When I tell people the area of my concentrated traditional study, their facial expressions reveal this discomfort. I didn't begin this process of accompanying souls in pre and post death communication; the animals did. About ten years ago I noticed an increasing trend in my readings; clients were calling me to help them determine whether it was time to release their animal to spirit. Naturally I don't make that determination. "Let's ask your dog," I'd say, and always, without exception, the animal would answer. They were usually not ready to go despite clearly failing health, and the veterinarians would offer corroboration. Animals know the right time for surrender, and they tell us without panic. They don't seek escape.
I took this pattern seriously and decided to return to school to study death and dying, which involved not only course work but practical experience as well. I chose to volunteer with Hospice and never felt more an instrument of God than when I stood bedside, delivering Reiki energy to patients just hours from their final breath. In that sacred silence we create a tunnel of Light and become enveloped by Spirit. I feel this way always giving Reiki to terminally ill animals. A couple of weeks ago I met a nurse, also a spiritual healer and medium , who does this same work on a regular basis. We agreed on this as the greatest and most humbling honor the Universe grants us.
What I have learned, and what I want to teach, is that frightening as it is initially, we must not run from death (as I did when I was young) but understand it as the entry to the Divine, more permanent root of this life. We, and our animals, do not exit. We return.
Almost all of my clients ask these questions, exposing their conflicted emotions :
Does he know we did everything we could for him when he was alive?
Please tell him we didn’t even see the tumor. We didn't know he was suffering.
Is she upset with me because I had her put down?
Did she know how much I loved her?
Tell him I put him to sleep to ease his pain, not mine.
Please tell her I'm sorry.
Please tell him why I couldn't stay in the room during the euthanasia.
It took me years to learn how to neutralize these misguided feelings myself.
Our animals know how much we love them, and they understand our difficulty in consciously deciding to part with them. They understand that from the totality of multi-dimensional existence, earthly life is fractional. They accept their temporal roles in in our lives while we waste time berating ourselves with guilt, micro-examining our decisions in hindsight.
In The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche attributes our discomfort with death to our sanitzed western approach to life, which is essentially an ongoing denial of death. By neglecting to give equal attention to the end of this life, we reinforce our unprepareness for death and thus deny ouselves full appreciation of the life cycle. Tibetan culture – most Asian culture -- regards death as part of life and as such is treated reverently, not fearfully. Speaking to us from Spirit, our animals teach this same lesson.
I didn't choose to work with death and dying. When I tell people the area of my concentrated traditional study, their facial expressions reveal this discomfort. I didn't begin this process of accompanying souls in pre and post death communication; the animals did. About ten years ago I noticed an increasing trend in my readings; clients were calling me to help them determine whether it was time to release their animal to spirit. Naturally I don't make that determination. "Let's ask your dog," I'd say, and always, without exception, the animal would answer. They were usually not ready to go despite clearly failing health, and the veterinarians would offer corroboration. Animals know the right time for surrender, and they tell us without panic. They don't seek escape.
I took this pattern seriously and decided to return to school to study death and dying, which involved not only course work but practical experience as well. I chose to volunteer with Hospice and never felt more an instrument of God than when I stood bedside, delivering Reiki energy to patients just hours from their final breath. In that sacred silence we create a tunnel of Light and become enveloped by Spirit. I feel this way always giving Reiki to terminally ill animals. A couple of weeks ago I met a nurse, also a spiritual healer and medium , who does this same work on a regular basis. We agreed on this as the greatest and most humbling honor the Universe grants us.
What I have learned, and what I want to teach, is that frightening as it is initially, we must not run from death (as I did when I was young) but understand it as the entry to the Divine, more permanent root of this life. We, and our animals, do not exit. We return.
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