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  • Rose wrote me: “A few years ago, after suddenly succumbing to a high fever, unbearable headaches and mental absences, I was eventually diagnosed with a brain tumour which apparently had been growing for the last 14 years and was by then a giant of 3.5 cm, with far-reaching tentacles. Thank God it was benign. They operated 26 December 2006, and the op took about 11 hours. During that time I died. Literally. Clinical death. The old screen went bleeeeep and for a couple of minutes - until they got me back - I was no more.That was the most enlightening and marvelous moment of my life. I floated in a 'soup' of pure love and I didn't really want to go back to what I thus far had called reality. Still, I was aware of everyone waiting for my recovery and worried that I 'let them down' and disappoint. The 'soup' let me know that we are all living in this love, breathing this love, being this love all the time. Just that at different levels of our existence - and it was made clear to me that my temporary new existence was also just that: another form of life - we are either allowed to know it – or, better, allow ourselves to know it - or remain ignorant of who we are, where we come from and where we are. I understood that my beloved people downstairs in the hospital were breathing exactly the same love and that it was only a question of a few quantum moments more and they, too, would understand. Then I was 'sent' back with this message in my heart.”

    I just love to read and reread this.

    I have heard several times similar stories in my practice. I have always believed them. But I have not had an experience like that.

    And my head is filled with doubt. After my daughter - in - law´s suicide these doubts are worse. Not so much her death hurts me as the terrible hell of a life she had had to endure for so many years. I cannot forgive that to God, if he or something God - like exists, or Life...I am angry, I want to rebel and protest and scream that this is not a good universe, it has so many flaws. I know that suffering is necessary to grow, but there is a kind of suffering, which seems useless and senseless and that makes me doubt in all the good spiritual teachings I so much search for.

    I realized today that actually if you melted me down you would just find a lump of fear, a dark huge ameba of panic. All my painting , whatever I write, all my talking, even all my meditation are desperate attempts to calm down the panic. I have been at this for decades and don´t seem to have gotten anywhere, just a ton of blahblahblahs leave my trembling mouth.....

    I am completely naked now.

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    Art by Kiki ("The Cosmic Soup")

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