Making a Choice

 

An excerpt from my upcoming book:

There are days when I feel like I don’t have a heart anymore. Or if I realize I still have one, then I can’t grasp “why” and “how” it is still there.

Why is it that the pain I have inside has not shattered my heart into millions of particles? How can it still be there as if “nothing” has happened?

There are days when I wake up and puzzled by why I am still breathing. How can that be? I ask myself. How can it be? How can it be that no one is yelling, “Mom, good morning”?

And how can it be that I can’t yell back, “Good morning to you too”? How is it even possible that I am still here and still breathing?

It feels so unnatural and so unreal to me. Then I remember a time when I was in my bed for about three to four weeks, not able to do anything or having any will to change that.

I spent day after day alone, not talking to anyone. My husband would bring me some food, but I hardly ate.

One day would change into another day. Nothing moved.

All came to a stop except for my thoughts, which came one after another, chatting and screaming in my head. At first I tried to stop them. I was fighting them back.

I remember saying to myself, “You can’t think this way.” However, after a while, I realized that they, my thoughts, were more powerful than my will.

So I stopped fighting and just let them run without any control. It was quite an amazing feeling to experience the total separation from my thoughts and emotions. It was as if they had their own life, their own reality, and their own space.

Now there were several different and separate lives: thoughts, emotions, and I. I did not know, however, what or who that “I” was.

Was it my heart, soul, intelligence, or something else? I could not ponder over that question since my thoughts were too busy with their own life.

Later I asked, who was the observer? Who observed whom? Who was suffering? Who was in control? Where is the will to live coming from?

One week changed to another week, and I noticed that my body had life too. I was gaining weight for the first time since a few years ago, when I truly cleaned up my diet and was eating more and more just raw veggies and fruits. That too surprised me since I almost did not eat anything.

“Hmmm . . . ,” I thought, “might be this is a pure weight of pain?” Pain must weigh something . . . is it?

I did not care. Not caring was a new for me too. It actually felt . . . liberating?

Then one day, my thoughts stopped talking. And there I was in complete silence. No thoughts—just emptiness. Just nothingness. I never had that in my life. I never experienced that deep, deep nothingness before. Where was I in that emptiness?

Then there was a voice. Calm, deep, cold, and foreign. It was coming from that nothingness where I rested.

The voice did not come alone. It brought a vision with itself. The vision was like a mirage in a desert. I knew something was there, but I did not know what it was. It was real, looked as 3-D, but it was also like a breeze, airy and unstable.

The vision happened to be a snapshot from a book of my life. That was recorded before, and now it was shown to me.

I was being shown where I was in my current life. I eventually became completely surrounded and wrapped up by the vision, as if it was a blanket or shawl. I became a part of it. As if I walked inside of a movie.

I was right in the middle. Once I was engulfed by the vision, the vision began to play. It felt as if I was watching myself in a movie.

“You have to choose,” said the voice. “You can no longer live in dual reality.”

Note: To be fair, this was not the first time I was shown different realities. I was confronted with the same concept before. Before everything happened with my son and our family. It was in my dreams. They troubled me. They scared me.

However, to be totally honest, at that time I was not sure what to do with it. Or how to go about it. I felt that I was doing my best at that time. At least as much as my current knowledge allowed me. Or at least that is how I thought about it. Was I wrong? Was I not doing enough? Who has those answers?

Also, this time it was very different too. More clear. More to the point. More revealing.

No room for “not knowing.” Not ANYMORE.

Right away I saw two walls forming an angle into a corner. I saw myself staying at the point of the corner. There was no space to move anywhere. I was literally forced into facing the corner. I came to a full stop.

I understood that those two walls were representations of two different realities.

The first wall was slowly unfolding with images and pictures as I watched it. Everyone knows and sees this reality. This reality was governed by the five senses.

In this corporeal reality, there was only a material life. In that reality, death meant the end, because there was no place or room for the life of the Soul. Our actions and choices were final. This reality was firm, concrete, heavy, and as real as a granite headstone on the grave. Everything led to the entry of cemeteries and graveyards.

Everything I knew led me to the funeral of my son and his resting place. In this reality, my son was tragically killed in the car accident, and that was the end. In this reality, I was a grieving mother. That was the end.

The vision stopped, and once again I froze in my pain. Then it moved again.

The second wall unfolded itself with pictures of a second reality. There I found myself floating because there was no gravity. It was a reality of the highest point of the Soul. It felt very pure, innocent. Clear. Oneness with the Cosmic ocean?

The full opposite of another reality. There were no time, no borders, and no limitations of physicality.

I saw my son again. We were talking again.

He came to me not only as my son, but also as my guide, my teacher, and my guardian angel.

In this second reality, my son did not die from an accident. He was taken by G-d at the peak of his soul wisdom and innocence in order to be preserved and protected from the first reality’s spiritual pollution.

He was called to his home, the Realm of Truth, for a particular purpose—to do the work. His work is like being a part of a medical team, saving the collective soul of humanity. It was as if he had a beeper on him that went off every time he has a job to do.

He was needed at Home to bring healing to Earth and join a team of others who were also watching over us. In this reality, I was told that the reason that I am still here is to complete my tasks as well.

I was about to team up with my son to do the work that had to be done. In this reality, I had a soul, a mission, and a community. I was loved, supported, and guided.

In this reality, I had a divine family. I was the mother of an Angel, full of clarity and purpose.

In this reality, my son and I had an eternal life. It was a reality of Trust and Truth.

I was told that those two realities could not coexist in me any longer, and it was a time for me to choose. However, I was warned that after my choice was made, there “is no turning back.”

I knew that most people accepted the first reality. The second reality was highly questionable since it is without any “proof.” Graves with the name of our family on the granite headstone were a proof of a first reality. Who can argue with that?

However, there, in the second reality, I still had my son and an offer to work with him as my teacher and guide. In return, I was asked to work seriously and with a dedication like never before.

I was asked to respect my gifts and the information that I was given. It requested a respect for any future information that I might receive. I was asked to trust it, respect it, and work with meaning, focus, and determination.

The other reality had memories and broken dreams and feelings of being betrayed by G-d. However, everyone accepted this reality without questions. This reality was full of pain, anger, police sirens, death, and devastations.

This reality did not ask anything of me and it did not offer anything in return. It was very comfortable and very familiar to me. However, it did not have room for who I truly was, only for what was “appropriate” and mundane. It provided no future for me—just day-to-day pain, grief, sorrow, a broken home, and the dust of yesterday’s dreams. It was a very tangible reality with facts, but to me it was a reality of illusions.

After each reality revealed its own essence, they once again formed the corner like the fork of paths. I now knew that I am staying at the pivotal point and facing the crossroads of my life.

I could not move. I stood for a while. It was very, very quiet. I could hear my breath. I noticed the sound of blood pulsating in the head. I was fully present to the random beating of my heart.

I had a heart. It was still alive. Though in pain, it was there.

And then I stepped into the unknown reality, the second one. I chose the reality that could not be proven—the one that was thinner than air.

I took a step toward my son. I reached for him, and he extended his hand to me. At that moment, I knew that I still have my heart, and as long as it was beating, I had to be with my son.

That is where I, as a mother, belonged. My heart belonged with my son; it can’t be anywhere else. My soul longed to be next to his soul. That day I made my choice, and it felt right.

Everything that you are reading here and will be reading in the future is the result of that choice . . . and . . . it is a tangible gift from the esoteric realm of Trust and Truth.